Destroyer Fault

Aca chuckled softly, shaking her head. "That sounds like Elang. Always quick to anger, but also quick to forgive, I guess."

"Yeah, he's definitely got a temper," Dove agreed. "But he's also fiercely loyal. Once he's on your side, he's all in."

I nodded, a sense of respect for Elang growing within me. Despite his flaws, he had a good heart, and his desire for revenge against the Seers was understandable, given what they had done to him and Lili.

"Alright, let's go back to my home," I said, stretching my legs. "I miss my bed."

The rest of the drive passed in a comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I couldn't help but reflect on the events of the past few days - the concert, the encounter with Libido and Essokinesis, the rescue mission at the Seers' training ground. It had been a whirlwind of emotions and experiences, a stark reminder of the complexities of my double life. The constant balancing act between my ordinary teenage existence and my extraordinary responsibilities as The Imaginary was both exhilarating and exhausting.

As we pulled up to my house, a wave of relief washed over me. It was good to be home, to be surrounded by the familiar comforts of my own space. I thanked Aca and Dove for the ride, promising to see them soon at the WRA Building.

With a final wave goodbye, I stepped out of the car and made my way towards the front door, my suitcase trailing behind me. As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of home greeted me, a comforting embrace after the whirlwind adventures of the past few days.

"Hey, my son is already home?" My mother's voice echoed from the kitchen as she emerged, a welcoming smile on her face.

I nodded, looking at her petite figure. "Yeah, just got back."

"How was it? How was it?" she asked excitedly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Fun, I guess?" I replied, still a bit dazed from the trip.

"You guess? Geez..." She chuckled. "Oh right, your father borrowed your bike today, since you weren't back yet."

"Really?" I said, a hint of worry creeping into my voice. "I hope he doesn't get caught by the police. That bike is... custom, you know..."

My mother waved a dismissive hand. "He was a racer in his younger days. I believe the police won't catch him, especially since everyone in this city knows he's your uncle's brother."

"Right... Uncle Thony is a police officer..." I replied, a sense of reassurance washing over me.

"Well, I'm going to head to bed," I announced, stifling a yawn. "The trip was exhausting, and I need some rest."

"Alright, dear," my mother said, her voice filled with warmth. "Sleep well. I'll wake you up for dinner later."

I nodded and made my way upstairs to my room. As I closed the door behind me, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I crawled into bed, letting the soft mattress cradle my weary body. The events of the past few days replayed in my mind, a kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences. But as sleep finally claimed me, all thoughts faded away, replaced by a peaceful oblivion.

***

At Xian's father's tea shop, a group of young men, members of a local gang, huddled together, their eyes fixated on a motorcycle parked outside. It was a sleek, black, custom-built machine, its chrome gleaming in the afternoon sun. There was no mistaking it; this was the Imaginary's motorcycle.

"Hey... look at this bike..." one of them said, his voice hushed with a mixture of awe and apprehension. He pointed towards Xian's motorcycle, which was parked prominently outside the tea shop.

The rest of the group turned their heads, their eyes widening in recognition. A tense silence fell over them, broken only by the soft clinking of teacups and the murmur of conversations from inside the shop.

"No way... that's the Imaginary's bike," another one whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. The realization that they were standing so close to the legendary hero's personal belongings sent a shiver down their spines.

The leader of the group, a burly young man with a shaved head and a scar across his cheek, narrowed his eyes. "So, the Imaginary owns this place, huh?" he mused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Interesting..."

They were mistaken. The Imaginary didn't own the place; he was simply the son of the tea shop owner. But their misunderstanding could lead to trouble, a potentially dangerous situation brewing right outside the unsuspecting tea shop.

An idea sparked in the gang leader's eyes, a mischievous glint replacing the initial apprehension. "Hey," he said, turning to his companions, "how about we have a little fun?"

His followers exchanged knowing looks, their grins mirroring his own. They understood the unspoken plan, the thrill of challenging the Imaginary's authority, even if it was just a symbolic gesture.

"Yeah, let's mess with his bike," one of them chimed in, his voice filled with a reckless bravado.

"We'll leave a little 'present' for the hero," another added, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips.

With a shared nod, the group sprang into action. They approached the motorcycle, their movements swift and purposeful. One of them pulled out a can of spray paint, shaking it vigorously before unleashing a torrent of bright red paint onto the pristine black surface. Another took out a pocket knife, carving crude insults and threats into the leather seat.

They worked quickly, their laughter echoing in the quiet street. They were reveling in their defiance, their actions a misguided attempt to assert their dominance over a symbol of justice and hope.

Inside the tea shop, Xian's father, oblivious to the vandalism taking place outside, continued serving his customers with a warm smile. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and the gentle clinking of cups created a peaceful ambiance, a stark contrast to the brewing storm just beyond the shop's walls.

The gang, satisfied with their handiwork, retreated to a safe distance, their laughter echoing in the twilight. They watched with anticipation, eager to see the Imaginary's reaction to their "gift." Little did they know, their actions had set in motion a chain of events that would have far-reaching consequences, consequences they could never have imagined.

"Ahem."

The sound, soft yet commanding, cut through the gang's raucous laughter. They froze, their bravado evaporating as they turned to see Elang standing behind them, his arms crossed and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Huh? What are you gonna do, seeing us do this, huh!?" the leader taunted, trying to regain his composure. But his voice faltered, a flicker of fear betraying his bravado. He had heard the rumors about the Imaginary's new recruit, the fire manipulator who had once terrorized the city.

Little did they know, they were facing a man reborn, a man with a newfound purpose and a burning desire for redemption. And most importantly, a man with the power to unleash a fiery inferno upon those who dared to cross him.

"I'm just passing by," Elang replied calmly, his voice deceptively mild. "But hmm... it seems you're causing trouble here. I hate people who cause trouble in public, especially in broad daylight."

The gang leader scoffed, his bravado returning. "And what are you gonna do about it!?" he challenged, stepping closer to Elang, his fists clenched.

Elang's lips curled into a sinister smile. He extended his hand towards the gang leader, seemingly offering a friendly handshake. But as their hands met, Elang's palm crackled with intense heat.

"Aghhh!? H-Help me..." the gang leader screamed, his hand burning from the unexpected contact. He desperately tried to pull away, but Elang's grip was like iron.

The rest of the gang, initially stunned by the sudden turn of events, quickly rallied to their leader's aid. They rushed towards Elang, their fists raised and voices filled with anger. But Elang merely smirked, his eyes gleaming with a newfound confidence. The fear and uncertainty he had felt earlier were replaced by a burning resolve, fueled by his desire for redemption and his loyalty to the Unveiled Family.

With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a wave of intense heat, forcing the gang members to stumble back, their faces contorted in pain. The air crackled with energy as Elang's flames danced and swirled around him, a fiery barrier protecting him from their attacks. The once-timid boy was now a formidable force, his power harnessed and controlled.

"Stay back!" he warned, his voice a low growl. "Or you'll suffer the same fate as your leader."

The gang members hesitated, their bravado faltering in the face of Elang's newfound power.

"W-What is that...?" one of them stammered, his eyes wide with fear.

"A fire?" another asked, his voice trembling.

Elang's smirk widened. "It's more than just fire," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of menace. "It's the wrath of a Harbinger, unleashed upon those who deserve it."

The gang leader, his hand still burning from Elang's touch, whimpered in pain. "Please... let me go..." he pleaded, his bravado completely shattered. The searing pain had stripped away his arrogance, leaving only raw fear in its wake.

Elang released his grip, and the gang leader collapsed to the ground, clutching his injured hand. The other gang members, seeing their leader's defeat, hesitated, their resolve crumbling like a house of cards. The tables had turned, and they were now the ones at the mercy of their intended victim.

"Get out of here," Elang commanded, his voice booming with authority. "And don't ever let me catch you vandalizing property again."

The gang members, their tails between their legs, scrambled to their feet and fled, leaving behind the defaced motorcycle and the lingering smell of fear. They had learned a valuable lesson that day: don't mess with a Harbinger, especially one seeking redemption.

Elang watched them go, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. Then, his gaze fell on the vandalized motorcycle. "Whose bike is this, anyway?" he muttered, oblivious to the fact that it belonged to Xian.

< Chapter 178 > Fin.