Rico's massive stone hands gripped the edges of the deck. His muscles bulged beneath the rocky exterior as he bent low, fingers digging into the wood with crushing force. Then with a roar, he lifted.

  Half a section of flooring which was nearly four meters of wooden planks, support beams and decorative fixtures rose into the air like a giant's shield. Nails shrieked as they were torn free. Wood groaned under the impossible strain.

  He lifted half of the boat's flooring? He's going to throw it. I can dodge it but what if he throws it towards the civilians? Kazama realized, his eyes widening behind his mask.

  Kazama immediately retreated, his feet sliding on the wet deck as he put distance between himself and the massive projectile.

  But Rico didn't throw it. Instead, he charged forward through the raised flooring, his rocky form smashing through the wood like it was paper. Splinters exploded in all directions. The air filled with the deafening sound of destruction.

  Kazama's instincts kicked in. He pivoted sharply, leaping onto the railing just as Rico burst through. Using his momentum, Kazama swung himself outside the boat's edge, his body arcing through the air. For a moment, he hung suspended over the dark ocean water below.

  Then he swung back, using the railing as a pivot point. He landed behind Rico with a sprinter’s position - one knee on the floor.

  Now!

  Electricity crackled around Kazama's legs, the current intensifying until his muscles locked into rigid columns of striking power. He launched himself forward, both feet aimed directly at Rico's back into another supercharged dropkick.

  But Rico had learned.

  The massive boulder of a man spun with surprising speed for someone made of rock. His stone hand shot out and caught Kazama's legs mid-strike, stopping the attack cold. The electrical current sparked and crackled across Rico's rocky palm, but he didn't even flinch.

  "Not this time!" Rico growled, his Portuguese accent thick with anger.

  Kazama's eyes darted frantically. He was trapped, dangling in Rico's grip like a caught fish. His hand shot to his pocket, fingers closing around the last metal ball he had. The one he'd been saving for an emergency.

  This is the last one. I hope this works or else I am toast…. Kazama thought with desperation. He started sweating the moment Rico had caught him mid air.

  Kazama poured everything he had into the small sphere. Electricity surged through it, building up charge faster than the metal could handle. The ball began to glow white-hot.

  Then it exploded.

  The flash was blinding. A miniature supernova of light and sound erupted between them. Rico roared, his stone grip loosening instinctively as the flashbang stunned his senses. He stumbled backward, shaking his head.

  Kazama dropped and rolled, putting distance between them as spots danced in his own vision. The improvised flashbang had worked but it had cost him his last piece of equipment.

  I'm running out of options. Even though that metal ball gave me room to breathe, I can't fight him. He is just too strong! There is no way…. Well there is… But ….. Kazama thought while gasping. His mind racing through options.

  "I am done with your stupid little tricks!" Rico bellowed, his rage amplified tenfold by the disorienting flash.

  With terrifying strength, Rico gripped the nearby railing and ripped it free. The entire metal barrier with three meters of steel and iron came away in his hands like he was pulling up a weed. He swung the makeshift weapon in a wide arc, the metal whistling through the air.

  Kazama dropped into a slide, his body skimming across the wet deck just under the sweeping attack. The railing sailed over him by inches and slammed into the hall structure to Rico's right with a tremendous crash. The wall buckled inward with debris raining down.

  Kazama tried to rise to create distance but Rico was already moving.

  Rico's massive foot came down on the deck with apocalyptic force. The entire section of flooring buckled and shattered. The shockwave rippled outward, hitting Kazama like a physical blow. His legs went numb. His vision blurred.

  Then Rico charged.

  The stone giant lowered his shoulder and rammed forward like a freight train. Kazama's eyes widened but there was no time to dodge, no time to leap away. His legs didn't have that strength anymore.

  Shit! My legs are giving away. I can't dodge this. He is going to run through me! I need to brace for impact. I need to minimize the damage….., Kazama thought while his body shivered with fear and sweat collected beneath his mask.

  Kazama's muscles stiffened instantly, electricity flooding through his body to lock every fiber in place. Simultaneously, he thrust his hands forward, electromagnetic energy coalescing into a shimmering barrier in front of him. The shield was thick enough to stop a small car moving at 20kmph but was not strong as Tachibana Takemi’s force field. And nearly as strong to stop Rico.

  The shield formed just as Rico's massive shoulder connected.The impact was catastrophic.

  Kazama's electromagnetic shield absorbed the initial impact but then shattered like glass after a few seconds. The force drove through his braced arms and into his chest. For a split second, he felt the crushing weight of solid rock pressing against him.

  Then he was airborne.

  Kazama flew backward across the deck, his body tumbling through the air. Three meters passed in a blur. Then he slammed back-first into the railing on the opposite side of the boat.

  Pain exploded through his back. The metal bar caught him right across the shoulder blades and his upper back. Air rushed from his lungs. His vision went white, then dark and then white again. He collapsed onto the deck in a crumpled heap, gasping for breath that wouldn't come.

  Can't... breathe... back... hurts…, Kazama thought as he desperately tried to get back to his feet.

  A small group of passengers huddled near the tilted entrance to the dining hall, their formal wedding attire soaked. They had watched the entire battle unfold, frozen between terror and awe.

  "He's hurt," a woman whispered, her hands covering her mouth. "That masked man... he can barely move."

  "Someone should help him," a man said, but his feet remained planted. Fear held him in place.

  "What can we do?" another woman asked desperately. "That thing is made of rock. We'd just get in the way."

  A young boy, no more than eight years old, stood at the front of the group. In his small hands, he clutched a Shirai Takeru action figure posed in a dynamic fighting stance. The boy's eyes were fixed on Kazama's struggling form, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  He's trying so hard, the boy thought, his small hands squeezing the action figure tighter. He's fighting that monster to save us. He's getting hurt to save us. He does not even know us but he is giving his all. And no one knows him but still….

  Kazama pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, every movement was clearly agonizing. His mask was askew. Blood dripped from somewhere beneath it. But still, he tried to stand. His whole body was shivering but his spirit was not giving up.

  "Get up," a woman whispered, as if her words could reach him. "Please get up."

  Rico began walking forward, each footstep shaking the deck.

  "He's going to die," someone said quietly. "That man is going to die for us."

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Let's go, masked man!" a voice suddenly called out. It was an older gentleman, his formal jacket torn, but his voice strong.

  "Let's go, electric guy!" another voice joined in, then another.

  "Come on!"

  "You can do it!"

  "Don't give up!"

  The boy looked down at his action figure, then back at Kazama.

  The boy took a step forward.

  "Kenji, no!" his mother gasped, reaching for him.

  But Kenji pulled away and ran. His small legs carried him across the tilted, debris-strewn deck. He ran past overturned tables and broken glass. He ran toward the injured vigilante and the approaching stone monster.

  And he placed himself directly in between them.

  "KENJI!" his mother screamed, running after him.

  She reached her son and wrapped her arms around him from behind, trying to pull him back to safety. But the boy planted his feet and spread his arms wide, the action figure still clutched in his right hand.

  "No!" Kenji shouted, his young voice cracking with emotion. "You can't hurt him! He's trying to save us!"

  Rico stopped.

  The massive stone villain froze mid-step, his foot still raised. He stared down at the small boy standing in his path with his arms spread wide and tears on his cheeks, protecting a stranger with nothing but courage.

  Kenji's mother sobbed, pulling her son tighter. "Please, please move. Please..."

  But Kenji held his ground, his small body trembling but refusing to budge.

  “A child. What…” Rico said with a very low tone. The words just came out naturally.

  The thought cut through Rico's rage like a knife. He stared at the boy's tear-streaked face and saw someone else.

  Gabriel.

  His son. Eight years old. The same age as this boy. Gabriel with his bright eyes and infectious laugh. Gabriel who loved action figures and pretended to be heroes. Gabriel who was lying in a hospital bed right now, fighting a battle no child should have to fight.

  The memory hit Rico like a physical blow.

  ************************************************************************************************************************

  Three months ago. S?o Paulo, Brazil.

  "Papai, when can I come home?" Gabriel had asked, his small voice weak from the medication.

  Rico had held his son's hand, feeling how fragile it had become. The leukemia was aggressive. The treatment was expensive. Their insurance had run out.

  "Soon, meu filho. Soon." Rico said with pain on his face.

  "Will I get better?" Gabriel asked with sadness in his voice.

  "Yes," Rico had lied, forcing a smile even as his heart shattered. "You'll get better."

  But the doctors had been clear. Without the advanced treatment, without the experimental drugs that cost more than Rico could earn in five years... Gabriel had a few months.

  150,000 US dollars. US Dollars? I don't know…. I don't know what to do…. Loans? But how will I get that much… Oh Angelica… Only if you were alive today…. Please guide me… Rico sat outside Gabriel’s room in the hospital with crushing thoughts and a defeated face.

  Then the Japanese man in the expensive suit approached him at the hospital with a katana hanging to his waist. His steps echoed as he saw a defeated Rico sitting outside leaning and with his hands on his head.

  "I hear you need money," the man had said. "I hear you would do anything for your son."

  Rico looked up and nodded instinctively.

  "Anything," Rico confirmed.

  “Japan made a few breakthroughs with your son’s disease. Results have shown full recovery but at a cost.”, The Japanese man said while taking out some reports from his briefcase.

  “The cost would be upwards of 250,000 US dollars. But don't worry. We will cover all of it. We will provide shelter. Regular health updates. All the necessities. Everything. Anything you need. We just need you to use your abilities for us” The Japanese man continued while handing out the reports and adjusting his sun shades.

  Rico had known what kind of "work" it would be. He wasn't stupid. But when he looked at his dying son...

  "I'll do it."

  ************************************************************************************************************************

  Rico stared at Kenji, still standing there with his arms spread wide, protecting a stranger. He saw Gabriel in that courage. Saw the kind of man his son might grow up to be... if Rico succeeded in his mission. If he earned enough blood money to save one innocent life.

  Do I have what it takes to finish the job? To sink this ship and possibly put the lives of this mother and child in danger? Oh Angelica only if you could guide me…. Our son’s health has just improved… By a bit… And I…. I…., Rico’ thoughts weighed down on him.

  "Please don't hurt him," Kenji's mother begged, her voice breaking. "Please. He's just trying to help."

  Behind the boy, Kazama had managed to get back to his feet. He swayed, clearly in pain, but he was standing. And even now, even barely able to move, the masked vigilante was positioning himself to protect the civilians if Rico attacked.

  He doesn't even know these people. He gains nothing from this fight. But still he stands, Rico's rocky fists clenched and unclenched. What have I become?

  But then another thought crashed through: Gabriel. I need this money for Gabriel. If I don't complete the job, he dies. My son DIES.

  The internal war raged in Rico's mind. Save his son or save his soul. There was no good choice. No right answer.

  Finally, something inside him hardened. Not his body because that was already stone. Something deeper. Something that hurt worse than any physical wound.

  I'm sorry, Gabriel. I'm sorry for what you'll learn your father was.

  Rico's eyes fixed on the task. Just the task. Not the people. Not the children. Just the mission.

  He turned sharply to his left and ran, his heavy footfalls shaking the deck. He headed directly for the main hall which was another structural point that, if destroyed, would speed the boat's sinking.

  "No!" Kazama shouted.

  The vigilante pushed past his injuries and ran after Rico. His legs screamed in protest. His back felt like it was on fire. But he moved anyway.

  "Stop!" Kenji's mother called out. "You're hurt! You'll die!"

  Other passengers moved toward Kazama, trying to grab him, trying to hold him back.

  "Let the heroes handle it!"

  "You've done enough!"

  "You can't fight him in your condition!"

  But Kazama slipped through their grasping hands, driven by something beyond reason or self-preservation. He couldn't let Rico destroy more of the ship. Couldn't let these people drown.

  Rico reached the entrance to the main hall and drew back his fist, preparing to demolish the support structure.

  Then a blur of motion crossed the deck.

  Tanaka appeared like a missile, his fist engulfed in brilliant orange flames that turned the night into day. The air around him shimmered with heat. His hero uniform was soaked but his eyes blazed with determination.

  "BLAZING FIST!" Tanaka roared. This time the move appeared smaller and weaker than the last time Tanaka used it due to lack of a solid ground.

  His flaming punch connected with Rico's midsection with the force of a bomb. The impact created a shockwave that rippled across the deck. Fire exploded outward in a brilliant corona.

  Rico managed to bring his arms up at the last second, blocking the full force of the blow. But even his stone form couldn't completely withstand it. Cracks spider-webbed across his rocky forearms. Chunks of his granite-like exterior broke away and clattered to the deck. Steam rose where the flames had scorched his surface. Rico stumbled backward, staring at his damaged arms in shock. For the first time in the fight, he looked vulnerable.

  Tanaka landed in a fighting stance between Rico and the hall, his fists still wreathed in flame. He glanced back at Kazama, who had stopped running and now stood behind him, swaying with exhaustion.

  "Time to switch, vigilante," Tanaka said, his voice calm despite the intensity of the moment. "You've earned their trust. They'll listen to you now. Get them to the life rafts."

  Kazama wanted to argue. Wanted to say he could still fight. But his body knew the truth even if his pride didn't. He could barely stand, let alone go another round with Rico.

  "And you?" Kazama asked through gritted teeth.

  Tanaka's fist tightened further, the heat causing the air to ripple. A confident smile crossed his face. The smile of a Top 50 Hero who knew exactly what he was capable of.

  "I am a top 50 Hero. Don't worry about me," Tanaka said simply. "Besides..." He cracked his knuckles, each pop accompanied by a small burst of flame. "I'm a better match for him anyway. You did your part. Now let me do mine."

  Kazama looked at the gathered passengers. Kenji was still clutching his action figure. At the people who moments ago had tried to protect him. At the tears in their eyes and the hope in their faces.

  He's right. They trust me now. I have earned it. Not because I am from Tokyo Super High. Not because they know who I am. But because of my actions…

  "Don't let him sink the ship," Kazama said.

  "Don't let them drown," Tanaka replied, echoing Kazama's earlier words.

  Kazama turned to the civilians and straightened up despite the pain, trying to look stronger than he felt. "Everyone! We need to move now! Follow me to the life rafts!"

  The response was immediate. People began moving, no longer hesitant or panicked, but purposeful. They helped each other up. Supported those who were injured. Moved as a unit.

  Kenji ran up to Kazama and grabbed his hand. "You're a real hero," the boy said, looking up at the masked figure with absolute conviction. "Just like Shirai Takeru."

  Kazama's throat tightened. There was a feeling of disgust that took over Kazama’s mind. He squeezed the boy's hand gently. "Come on, buddy. Let's get you somewhere safe."

  As Kazama led the civilians toward the life rafts, he heard the sound of battle resuming behind him.

  Hold him off, Kazama thought. Just hold him off long enough.

  The boat listed further to the side. Water was now ankle-deep on the main deck. They were running out of time.

  But for the first time since this nightmare began, Kazama felt something unexpected.

  Hope.