Tower Siege
Kyoto Tower – Perimeter, 3 Hours Into Hostage Situation
The flashing red and blue of police lights reflected off the glass of nearby buildings. A cold breeze swept through the crowd of officers and media personnel cordoned behind hastily erected barricades. Beyond that, Kyoto Tower loomed in the night.
Ian stood off to one side, away from the press and police chatter. He pulled one arm across his chest, stretching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn’t in much of a rush, despite the situation. His reinforced running sneakers squeaked slightly against the pavement as he adjusted his stance. "So, I've heard you have some experience with hostage situations?"
Christopher, standing nearby, adjusted his red-tinted goggles and tapped at a small device clipped to his belt. Hitomi was perched on his shoulder, swishing her tail while watching Ian. "Kind of, yeah."
Awkward.
“Comforting,” Ian replied dryly, rolling his neck with a faint crack.
Nearby was Hifumi leaning casually against a barricade. "We’ve been standing here for a while now," he said, not to anyone in particular.
Impakt clapped a hand on Hifumi’s shoulder, grinning. “Patience is part of the job. Don’t wanna rush in and get more people hurt, do we?”
Hifumi gave a small shrug, but his expression softened. "Fair enough."
"Alright, listen up," Ryusei interjected, stepping forward and exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipated into the cold night air. "We’ve got thirteen hostages inside. One confirmed casualty. Suspect’s armed. Police recon says they’re holed up on the main observation deck. Minimal visibility from outside. No demands. That’s all we know. No shots have been fired since this started. Either they’re too nervous to pull the trigger, or they’re waiting for the right moment. Either way, we plan for the worst.”"
Chris frowned. "And their quirk?"
"No information on that. That's why we’re treating this like there’s more to it," said Impakt.
“Exactly,” Ryusei said with a nod. “We don’t know what’s in there, so we go in smart. Hifumi, you’re teleporting me and Impakt in first. The plan is simple: I’ll use my smoke to disorient the perp, and Impakt will take them down before they can react. Best case, we neutralize the threat, and no one else gets hurt.”
Ian, who had been doing some warmups, stopped mid-motion and narrowed his eyes. "And worst case?"
Impakt stepped forward, his demeanor steady and reassuring. "Worst case, the perp doesn’t go down quietly. If that happens, Ryusei and I will keep them occupied while Hifumi starts getting the hostages out. Now, worst than worst case? That’s when you two—Mirror Devil and Rush—make your move. High-speed, high-versatility backup.”
“And if the hostages aren’t all in one place? Or if the perp has a failsafe?” said Challenger.
“Then you improvise,” Ernst said simply. “You’ve got the tools. Trust yourself.”
Inside the observation deck of Kyoto Tower, the atmosphere was suffocating. Hana stood near the hostages, her automatic rifle hanging loosely in one hand. Her other hand rested on the strap of the large duffel bag slung over her shoulder, bulging with ammunition and other weapons. She swayed slightly, her breathing uneven, pupils dilated, and face slick with sweat. Her body radiated an unnatural tension, veins bulging along her arms and neck. The drugs coursing through her system had pushed her beyond normal human limits, but it was clear they were taking a toll.
Behind her, the body of the security guard lay crumpled in a pool of blood near the door. The hostages huddled together on the floor, trembling but unharmed. For now.
The operation began with Challenger teleporting Smokin’ Sexy and Impakt directly into the observation deck, before returning to his starting location. Climbing the Kyoto Tower stairs is no small feat. The observation deck sits at approximately 100 meters above ground, and with Hifumi’s athletic condition, it would take him around 2–3 minutes to ascend the 400+ steps. However, the urgency of the situation undoubtedly pushed him to move faster.
Hana's head snapped in their direction, eyes wide and erratic, pupils blown from the drugs in her system. She raised her automatic rifle instinctively, but Ryusei was already moving.
“Smoke!” he barked, exhaling a dense, billowing cloud that expanded rapidly across the room in Hana's direction before converging in around her face.
“Stay low!” Impakt shouted as he moved to shield the hostages. His body absorbed the kinetic energy of the bullets, the impacts fueled his growing strength. One bullet grazed his shoulder, another ricocheted off his reinforced helmet, but he held his ground with relative ease.
Ryusei kept Hana distracted. He darted towards her staying just out of reach, and, sidestepping a burst of gunfire, delivered a swing of his katana slashed the strap of her bag. The heavy duffel fell to the floor with a loud thud, spilling weapons and ammunition across the tiles.
“Can’t have you restocking,” Ryusei quipped, stepping back to avoid a retaliatory strike.
Hana snarled, discarding the now-empty rifle. She grabbed it by the barrel and swung it like a club, forcing Ryusei to block. The force of the blow reverberated down his arm, but he held firm.
That’s when Impakt charged. With her focus on Ryusei, she didn’t see him coming until it was too late. His fist collided with her chest, sending her staggering back. She brought the rifle up to absorb the impact, the weapon snapping in half under the sheer force. Undeterred, she used the broken barrel as an improvised weapon, lunging at Impakt with surprising agility.
Impakt ducked the first swing, sidestepped the second, and countered with an uppercut that sent her sprawling. “Tougher than she looks,” he muttered, rolling his shoulder.
The force should have knocked her out cold, but she was already back on her feet, shaking off the blow. Her lips curled into a snarl, and she lunged at Impakt. She tackled him with enough force to dent the wall behind him, pinning him against it. Her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingers tightening.
Ryusei appeared behind her, his bokuto swinging in a precise arc. The wooden blade struck Hana across the back of the head. The blow made her release Impakt, but it didn’t drop her. She turned on Ryusei with an animalistic growl, her movements erratic but unnervingly fast.
Hifumi arrived at the observation deck while the two pro heroes where still keeping the villain busy. His breathing was labored from the sprint up the stairs, but that's only because he had managed to surprise even himself with how fast he climbed up.
“Challenger, get the hostages out!” Ryusei shouted, parrying Hana’s wild strikes with his bokuto.
“On it!” Hifumi had already moved towards them, and in his mind, he meticulously reconstructed the first hostage’s features and position, preparing for the teleport.
Meanwhile, Hana’s attacks grew more frenzied. She ignored the injuries she was sustaining, her body seemingly impervious to pain. Ryusei managed to deflect most of her strikes, but the relentless assault forced him to stay on the defensive.
From the corner of his eye, Ryusei noticed that the smoke in the room was beginning to dissipate. He inhaled deeply, drawing more of the lingering smoke toward him and reshaping it into a dense, sticky fog that clung to Hana, slowing her movements. It wasn’t enough to fully restrain her, but it still made for a great opportunity.
“Impakt, tag in!” Ryusei called.
Impakt surged forward, grabbing Hana by the arm and twisting it behind her back. She let out a guttural scream and twisted free with inhuman strength, dislocating her own shoulder in the process. The sight made Ryusei grimace. “That’s not natural,” he muttered. However, still with Smokin' Sexy's quirk blinding and burning her face, Impakt had enough of an opening to deliver a crushing elbow strike to her chest.
The impact sent her crashing to the floor.
Impakt didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, throwing a series of heavy punches. Hana blocked one with her arm, the unnatural resilience from the drugs allowing her to shrug off what would have broken bone in a normal person. She retaliated with a kick to his side, sending him skidding a few feet but barely slowing him down.
Ryusei stayed close, using his smoke to keep Hana off balance. Every time she tried to focus on Impakt, he would release another burst, forcing her to shield her face and giving Impakt another opening.
Eventually, Hana began to falter. The strain of the drugs, combined with the relentless assault, was taking its toll. Her movements became sluggish, her attacks less precise.
She tried to rise, but Impakt delivered a final, crushing blow to her chest, knocking her out.
“It’s over,” Impakt said, breathing heavily.
After a few seconds of silence, Hana suddenly stilled, her body twitching unnaturally. Her head jerked toward the spilled contents of the bag, her erratic eyes locking onto a small vial containing a black-and-blue liquid. Before anyone could react, she snatched it up and plunged the syringe into her arm.
The transformation was immediate. Veins darkened beneath her skin, and her muscles seemed to bulge unnaturally. Her already enhanced movements became even more erratic, her speed and strength pushing the boundaries of what her fragile body could handle. With an unnatural lunge, she closed the gap to the bag, her feet barely touching the ground.
“Damn it!” Impakt cursed, surging forward, but he was a step too late. Hana reached the bag first, her hand disappearing into its depths.
From the corner of the room, Hifumi reappeared. His breathing was labored from the effort of back to back teleportation of a lot of unfamiliar people. Only one hostage left, and Hifumi was quickly readying his mental image to get them out of there.
“She’s got something!” Ryusei shouted.
A grenade.
Impakt and Smokin' Sexy exchanged a glance. Years of heroics and teamwork allowed them to act without words. Impakt moved to intercept Hana, while Smokin' Sexy darted toward Hifumi.
“GO!” Impakt roared, diving between the grenade and the group. The explosion caught him mid-dive, sending him hurtling across the air. Smoke and shrapnel erupted in all directions, but his body absorbed the brunt of the kinetic energy, giving Hifumi that half a second he needed to blink them out of there.
Hifumi reappeared a second later, leaving Ryusei and the hostage below. His eyes opened, bringing him back to the observation deck. Smoke still lingered, and Impakt’s voice came through the comms.
“I’m fine,” Impakt groaned. “Just got knocked for a ride.”
Hifumi exhaled in relief but barely had a moment to process before Hana lunged at him, moving faster than should have been possible. Her distorted body were closer to those of a puppet.
He raised his electric katana to defend, but she was faster.
He had climbed up there right after hearing through comms how Smokin' Sexy warned the others, arriving just in time to see Challenger face the villain. To Ian, the world slowed to a crawl as he shifted into his top speed. At Mach 2, the chaos of the scene unfolded in excruciating detail.
The shrapnel from the earlier explosion hung suspended in the air right outside the deck, glinting like tiny stars caught in the light of the observation deck alongside the actual stars of the night sky. Smoke curled and twisted in unnatural patterns, frozen mid-surge as if painted on a canvas.
Hana’s distorted body was mid-lunge, her eyes wide with rage, her hand outstretched to strike Hifumi. Each muscle fiber in her arm was visible, straining under the immense pressure of her enhancements.
Hifumi’s katana was mid-swing, the electric current crackling along its edge, but it was too slow—she would reach him first.
Ian moved.
The first step sent shockwaves through the floor beneath him, his reinforced shoes holding firm against the stress. He passed through the smoke effortlessly, weaving between the suspended debris. His breathing remained steady, his focus absolute.
In the span of what felt like an eternity to him but was less than a tenth of a second in real time, he reached Hifumi.
He didn’t hesitate. Grabbing Hifumi by the shoulder, Ian pivoted, moving him a few feet behind Hana, positioning him perfectly for his katana’s swing to land.
As Ian released Hifumi, he turned his focus to Hana. He could feel the strain of maintaining this speed, but he didn’t need long.
The moment Ian stopped moving, it was almost like time resumed its normal flow.
Hifumi’s katana completed its arc, the blade crackling as it found its mark. Hana, caught off guard by the sudden repositioning, let out a guttural cry as the electric edge slashed across her side.
Ian stood a few feet away, his breathing heavy but controlled. “Got your back,” he said casually, giving Hifumi a quick nod.
Hana staggered, her enhanced body struggling to keep up with the punishment it had endured. The fight wasn’t over, but the tide had turned.
Ian darted across the observation deck, his movements a blur as he scooped up the scattered contents of Hana's bag: weapons, ammo, and vials of those dangerous drugs. All the while, Hifumi was locked in a close-quarters battle with Hana.
"Chris, catch!" Ian called through the comms.
With a precise throw, Ian sent the bag hurtling through the broken window. Outside, Chris was making his way up towards the deck perched atop his black dragon. The small dragon flicked its wings, adjusting mid-air as Chris leaned out, snagging the bag.
"Got it!" Chris called back, steadying himself as Hitomi arced gracefully through the air before diving toward the broken window.
The dragon’s compact frame shifted mid-flight, its smooth black scales rippling like liquid. By the time it entered the observation deck, it had transformed into a massive, coiled serpent-like construct with clawed limbs and glowing crimson eyes. The dragon-turned-serpent lunged at Hana, wrapping around her in a flash. Its limbs pinned her arms and legs, its body tightening just enough to restrict her movements without crushing her.
Hana thrashed violently, her enhanced strength putting immense strain on Hitomi’s form. The serpent shifted its grip, adapting to her erratic movements. Each time she twisted or pulled, its claws dug into the floor for stability.
Ian rejoined the group, his hands now free, scanning the situation. "That bag’s out of play now. Hifumi, you good?"
Hifumi nodded, his katana held steady as he circled around Hana. "Hanging in there. She’s fast, but not faster than me when I keep my head in the game."
"That's what I like to hear," Ian said, cracking his knuckles. "Because if she breaks out of that thing, we’re gonna need to end this quick."
Hana roared, her body convulsing as the drugs pushed her beyond her limits. The serpent’s grip visibly strained, cracks forming along its scaled surface as it struggled to contain her. Hitomi hissed, its eyes narrowing as it reconfigured itself again, this time sprouting additional limbs to anchor itself more firmly.
Through the comms, Impakt's voice cut in, steady and assured. "Starting Point," he said, signaling that he was back at the location where Hifumi had first teleported him and Ryusei into the tower.
Hifumi, still on the observation deck, caught the cue immediately. He closed his eyes. In an instant, he vanished. A heartbeat later, he reappeared with Impakt standing tall beside him.
The crash-themed hero’s arrival was perfectly timed. Hana, still thrashing against Hitomi's serpentine grip, had nearly broken free. The dragon construct, despite its adaptability, was visibly struggling to maintain its hold.
Impakt cracked his knuckles, his confident grin flashing as he surveyed the scene. "Looks like you’ve all been busy," he quipped, his tone light but focused.
"Police are on their way up with restraints," he added, addressing the team. "Let’s wrap this up."
"Mirror Devil, keep her steady," Impakt said, dropping into a grappler’s stance.
Chris gave a quick nod, and the dragon-construct responded instantly. Its serpentine body shifted again, this time locking Hana’s arms to her sides while coiling more tightly around her legs. With a guttural snarl, Hana tried to break free, her drug-enhanced strength pushing Hitomi to its limit.
Impakt ducked low, wrapping his arms around Hana’s torso in a bear hug.
Hana screamed, her body writhing wildly, but Impakt held firm, his muscles unyielding. Hitomi adjusted its position, wrapping around Hana’s neck and head to keep her from thrashing further. The two worked in perfect tandem, the dragon-construct limiting her movements while Impakt applied the final chokehold.
"Lights out," Impakt said, his voice calm but resolute.
He shifted his grip, locking his forearm across Hana’s windpipe while his other arm pressed against the back of her neck. His technique was deliberate, designed to cut off her airflow without causing unnecessary harm. Hana’s struggles grew weaker as the extra drugs wreaking havoc on her system began to take their toll.
"She’s fading," Chris noted.
Impakt adjusted his hold one last time, ensuring it was secure but not lethal. Within moments, Hana’s body went limp, the fight draining out of her entirely.
"Got her," Impakt confirmed, carefully lowering her unconscious form to the ground. "Hitomi, let go."
The dragon construct uncoiled smoothly and it returned to Chris’s side.
"Nice teamwork," Hifumi said, his katana still in hand but no longer humming with electricity.
"Always a pleasure," Impakt replied, standing over Hana as he brushed dust off his combat suit.
Through the comms, he added, "Hostile neutralized. Police can take it from here. Let’s secure the area and check on the hostages."
The flashing red and blue lights from police cars and ambulances painted the night in sharp, flickering hues. Hana, unconscious and restrained, was being carefully loaded into an ambulance. Despite her drug-enhanced state earlier, she was now so weakened that additional heavy-duty restraints weren’t necessary. She was secured in place with standard measures, though the officers nearby remained vigilant.
Down below, just outside the police cordon, the heroes regrouped. Standing near a crater in the asphalt—the clear mark of Impakt’s abrupt landing after being blown off the observation deck—they exchanged words about the operation’s outcome.
Hifumi had his phone out, scrolling through messages. Ian, stretching his arms and legs to ease the tension in his muscles, glanced over. "You texting someone? At this hour?"
Hifumi didn’t look up. "Yeah, letting Bobby know what he missed."
Chris adjusted his goggles as he spoke up. "Too bad for him it’s nighttime."
"I bet he’d have found some excuse to be here anyway." said Ian with a light smile.
Hifumi chuckled, angling his phone to snap a picture of the crater. "True," he admitted, typing quickly. He added the photo as an attachment to his message, titling it: Impakt’s Impact. "Just making sure he at least gets the highlights."
Ian laughed.
"Besides, Bobby’s probably gonna ask him for a spar in the morning. I’m just letting him know he might actually win this time—what with Impakt falling from that height and tanking all those shots."
Impakt, who was standing nearby inspecting the damage to his suit, turned his head toward them with a raised eyebrow. "I heard that," he said, grinning. "And for the record, I’ve got plenty left in the tank, thank you very much."
Chris stood a bit apart from the group, arms crossed, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead. His gaze was steady as he watched the police finish their work. After a moment, he turned his attention to Ian, who was leaning casually against a nearby streetlight, sipping from a water bottle.
"Hey," Chris called, his tone measured but curious, "about that moment you threw the bag to me.
Ian grinned, lowering the bottle. "Yeah? What about it?"
"How did you know I was almost at the window?"
"Oh, uhh... Don't take this the wrong way, dude," he started, "but for someone with a quirk all about versatility, you're kinda... direct."
Chris raised an eyebrow, the faintest, tiniest hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Well, excuse me for not being as proficient with the quirks I copy as if I’d had them my whole life."
Ian held up his hands defensively. "Wait, my bad, let me rephrase that. I didn't mean the quirks. I meant that you are direct."
Chris narrowed his eyes slightly. "Explain."
Ian straightened up, his expression earnest now. "Okay, so hear me out. You're the type to fight independently from Hitomi, unlike Myoga—who's almost inseparable from his construct, right? But even with that independence, I knew you'd be at the window. Why?" He gave Chris a moment to respond, but when his classmate stayed quiet, he continued.
"It's because the fastest way for you to check the situation for yourself would’ve been flying up there. That’s just how you operate. You don’t wait around for someone else’s play-by-play when you can get eyes on the target yourself. Compare that to Impakt and Hifumi. Hifumi doesn’t hesitate to act on Impakt’s callouts, and Impakt trusts Hifumi to have his back without a second thought.”
Chris listened intently, his arms still crossed but his posture less rigid now.
"It’s not a bad thing—it’s just how you roll. But it also makes you predictable in some ways. Like, I knew you’d be there because you’d want to see the situation firsthand before making your next move, rather than doing it based only on vague or partial information that you get from someone else. Or at least that's what it looked like to me."
After a moment, Chris gave a small nod. "Fair point."
Ian smirked. "No problem. Just keep in mind it'd do you wonders to take dragon flying lessons from Myoga, at least for stability. I was scared the bag would knock you down."
Chris allowed himself a faint smile. "I'll keep that in mind."