The famous hero

For eight months, Zane had been hunting Black Crow.

At twenty-eight, Zane was widely regarded as the greatest hero alive. He’d defeated superhuman threats, dismantled criminal empires, and rescued entire cities from catastrophe. Yet Black Crow had repeatedly outsmarted him at every turn.

Black Crow was a nightmare given a name. He’d brought cities to their knees by crippling their infrastructure, breached the supposedly impenetrable systems of the Hero Association, leaked the secret identities of countless heroes, and ruined anyone who dared oppose him. Governments considered him a global threat, and even the most seasoned heroes thought twice before getting involved in his affairs.

And yet, nobody knew who he was.

Black Crow rarely appeared in person. He was little more than a fleeting silhouette in grainy surveillance footage, a masked figure emerging through smoke, or a distorted voice interrupting a hijacked broadcast. Nobody had ever seen beneath his signature black mask. Nobody knew his real name, his age, or even whether the person behind it was human.

Some estimated he was well into his forties.

Zane had finally found his hideout.

The underground facility was filled with glowing monitors, stolen intelligence, and classified files containing enough information to ruin half the world’s governments. At the center of it all sat a figure dressed in black, his familiar mask concealing his face.

“Black Crow.” Zane stepped into the room, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Eight months and three days,” the figure replied coolly. “Your obsession is becoming rather embarrassing.”

“Funny. I was about to say the same about your hiding skills.”

The security shutters slammed shut behind Zane.

A trap. Naturally.

Black Crow rose from his chair, already preparing to activate the mechanisms he’d carefully arranged throughout the room. “Do try to make this entertaining, hero. I’d hate for all that effort to go to waste.”

Then came a metallic creak overhead.

Before either could react, a poorly secured piece of equipment slipped from an overloaded shelf, struck the edge of a cabinet, and crashed directly into Black Crow’s head.

CRACK.

His silver mask shattered while he was still wearing it.

Fragments scattered across the floor.

Silence.

Zane stared at the face revealed beneath the broken metal.

Messy dark hair. Youthful features. Wide eyes.

A teenager.

The infamous Black Crow—the mastermind responsible for countless disasters, the man Zane had imagined as a ruthless veteran criminal in his forties—looked barely eighteen.

The boy stared back at him, frozen in place

Slowly, the tips of his ears turned bright red.