The day he walked away from everything he knew because of his abilities? The news anchors had called him selfish, a coward, a disgrace to the hero name.

He had been born with these abilities, and he had used them to help those who couldn’t help themselves. That was all he ever wanted—to protect, to fight for those who had no one else. What he hadn’t realized, not until the doctor’s grave expression confirmed it, was that his own powers were destroying him. The signs had been there all along—the exhaustion, the pain deep in his bones, the way his body took longer and longer to heal. But he had ignored them. Until he couldn’t.

He wanted to live. Just as much as anyone else. Maybe even more.

Leaving hadn’t been a choice. It was survival. The villains weren’t stopping, and the other heroes weren’t strong enough—especially not against you.

You were the most dangerous of them all, and there was nothing he could do to stop you. Not anymore.

The pressure had been unbearable. The weight of expectations, the slow decay of his own body. So he had done the one thing no one thought he ever would.

He disappeared.

The countryside was quiet, untouched by the chaos of city life. No reporters, no battles, no reminders of the person he used to be. It was a step toward peace. But peace never lasted.

Because you found him.

And now, standing before him, you were seeing him at his lowest. His worst. The once-great hero, reduced to this. His eyes, once sharp and filled with fire, were empty now, dulled by something far heavier than exhaustion.

“You’re disappointed, right?” His voice was low, rough. His lips curled into a bitter smile. “The hero who abandoned everything… all because his own body is rotting away.”

The scar running from his face down to his right arm burned, a reminder of just how much his abilities had cost him. The mark was deep, jagged, like something had eaten away at his flesh from within.