Meanwhile, in the most heavily guarded penthouse across the city, high above the sleepless glow of New York, sat the headquarters of the Titled Association. At its very peak, behind reinforced glass and layered security systems that even most A Ranks would struggle to breach, an old man was trying to get some shut-eye.

General Harold, the head of the USA Titled Association.

For him, sleep was a luxury. It ended up being a few scattered hours stolen between endless reports, crisis management, political pressure, and the constant, looming threat of gates and Titled incidents spiralling out of control.

Tonight, he had managed to secure two hours, which was a miracle in itself.

He lay in bed, eyes closed, his breathing steady, his ageing body finally allowed a moment of rest.

Then, a sharp vibration echoed from his wrist.

His specialised watch lit up, causing him to frown slightly, but he refused to open his eyes.

But then came another vibration.

And another.

Then, even an incoming call.

"I can deal with whatever it is in the morning," he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion.

For him, that meant a couple of hours from now, if he was lucky.

But then his eyes cracked open, and the faint red glow on the watch face caught his attention.

It was an emergency alert, causing his expression to harden instantly.

They were reserved for very specific situations: gate breaks of B Rank and above, large-scale Titled incidents, or anything that could spiral into a national-level threat.

Those were things he literally couldn’t ignore.

Sighing heavily, he pushed himself upright, bones creaking slightly as he did.

"Of course," he muttered.

He tapped the watch.

"Speak."

A panicked voice immediately came through.

"Sir, it’s-"

"What is it?" Harold cut in, his tone sharp, already irritated.

"You know the March Madness UFC event-"

"Get to the point."

There was a brief pause, the operator clearly trying to gather themselves, before... 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

"The barrier around the location has dropped, sir. Likely due to the Barrier Bastion running out of energy or being out of commission. The crowd is panicking and attempting to evacuate."

Harold’s eyes narrowed.

"That doesn’t warrant an emergency alert. Just send over some black suits and shut it down."

"But sir, the Riot Valkyrie is currently engaged with another A Rank in the arena."

There was a moment of silence after that revelation.

"Who?" Harold asked slowly.

"We believe it’s Elara Veyne, sir. The one they call the weakest A Rank."

"What?!"

Harold was fully awake now.

Two A Ranks causing a ruckus without concealment from the public.

And not just any A Ranks.

One was Kaela, the Riot Valkyrie, a woman infamous for escalating beyond control the longer a fight dragged on and never backing down. The other, Elara Veyne, a complete anomaly. She was unpredictable, unstable, and worse, her abilities weren’t fully understood.

"Damn it..." Harold muttered, rubbing his temples.

Once A Ranks like that started fighting seriously, there was no stopping them, definitely not easily.

He swung his legs off the bed, mind already racing through options.

’I could go myself, but I would need at least one other A Rank with me, preferably two. And even then it will be tough.’

But that would take time, and he wasn’t sure they even had A Ranks available with the numerous gates around the country. There were so many that it was a miracle they had them all under control.

"How many A Ranks do we have on standby?" he questioned.

He could hear the person clicking on a keyboard on the line before answering, "Eight, sir, but only one within the city, and they aren’t the most mobile, so will require transportation. By helicopter-"

"That’s enough. Scrap that idea," Harold cut them off.

Even with two more A Ranks, there was no guarantee they could suppress both of them quickly enough to prevent widespread damage. Let alone one who didn’t sound like the most capable.

He needed someone faster, stronger, and more reliable.

And only one person came to mind.

"He’s back in the country, right?" Harold asked suddenly.

"Yes, sir," the operator replied quickly, knowing exactly who he was referring to. "The A Rank gate he was commissioned for in Morocco has been cleared. He’s currently in US airspace."

Harold didn’t hesitate.

"Good. Send him."

"Sir, are you-?"

"Just do it."

The line cut.

Harold exhaled slowly, then leaned back into his bed.

If anyone could handle this quickly, it was him, and if he couldn’t sort it out, then it was hopeless. And the only reason he was sent to Morocco, despite the troubling times, was that they were an ally who needed urgent support.

But now that he was back, it was as good as sorted.

"I’ll leave it to you..." he murmured, already closing his eyes again.

Within seconds, he was asleep.

-

Meanwhile, high above the Atlantic coastline, cutting through the night sky, a man floated lazily on his back. His arms were behind his head and his legs crossed, as if he were lying on an invisible bed.

Except he was moving faster than a commercial aircraft.

The clouds parted around him as he drifted forward, completely at ease despite the absurd velocity.

Then, there was a vibration.

He frowned slightly, lifting his wrist.

"What now?" he groaned before answering a similar emergency alert mid-flight.

"What is it?" he then asked, clearly annoyed.

The operator’s voice came through quickly, efficiently explaining the situation.

"We have unconcealed and unsanctioned Titled combat between two A Ranks in a highly populated area. There is potential for city-level damage and many casualties, requiring urgent support."

"Seriously?" he sighed loudly.

The operator then desperately blurted out additional details and also added that it was a direct request from the head of the association.

"Okay," he said finally. "I’ll handle it. As a favour to the old man."

He rolled onto his front mid-air, his lazy posture vanishing.

"But after this..."

His eyes sharpened slightly.

"...I’m disappearing for a while."

Without waiting for a response, he thrust both arms forward.

Zoom!

The air behind him exploded as he accelerated instantly, his speed multiplying as he shot toward the provided coordinates like a missile.