BOOM!
The station's walls cracked. Fire surged through the hallways. Shards of glass and debris cut through the smoke like shrapnel.
Bodies were thrown. Screams echoed. And then—silence, broken only by the low crackling of fire.
Civilians outside gasped as a thunderous explosion rocked the police station. Smoke billowed into the sky, flames licking the edges of broken windows. Phones lit up the network—calls flooding the fire service, desperate pleas for help.
"What's going on in this city?!" one man cried. "First the bloody massacre incident, now the police station's gets blown to bits?" another woman shouted in disbelief.
Sirens howled in the distance.
---
Inside the ruined station, smoke slowly thinned. Rubble covered the floor. Some officers groaned, crawling from debris—bloodied but breathing. Others lay still, unmoving.
But the Hero Squad stood tall, bruised but unharmed.
Timothy scanned the scene quickly. "Check everyone. Now."
"Is the Commander alright?" Johnathan called out, coughing through the haze.
Amidst the dust and flame, Derick—Mega Panther—emerged, shielding someone beneath his arms.
He gently helped Layla to her feet. Both looked shaken, but alive.
Derick's voice was low but firm. "Are you okay, Commander? Hope you're not hurt."
Layla brushed ash off her uniform, offering a faint smile—and a slight blush. "I'm fine. Thanks to you."
Timothy turned sharply to Larry. "Scan the building. I want everyone accounted for. Anyone injured—get them outside. The ambulance is on its way. Looks like a crowd's forming."
Larry's visor flickered to life, beams of light cutting through the smoky air. "Understood. Scanning now…"
Thanks to Max's superspeed, the wounded were evacuated quickly. The dead were respectfully loaded into ambulances, their faces covered with white sheets.
A crowd had gathered outside, murmuring in growing confusion and fear.
"The heroes were inside when the explosion happened," one man said. "Could someone be trying to assassinate them?" another civilian asked, eyes wide with dread.
News reporters swarmed the scene, cameras flashing and microphones extended. "What happened in the building, Commander?" "What caused the explosion?"
Commander Layla stepped forward, her uniform dusted with ash but her presence composed and commanding.
"I'll answer your questions," she began, her voice calm but firm. "First, I want to address the tragic incident that happened the other day—the massacre."
She paused.
"Our heroes were caught off guard. They are deeply apologetic. They believe they should have done better... and I won't lie—I was furious with them myself."
The crowd murmured, many nodding solemnly.
"But," Layla continued, "during our investigation, we discovered something critical. The internal cameras at the police station were tampered with."
Gasps spread among the civilians. Some turned to each other in confusion and shock.
"Who would do that?" someone whispered.
"We noticed something else," Layla said, eyes narrowing. "When we stormed the station today, something felt off. Thanks to the heroes' sharp thinking, we realized—there were no police officers stationed in the area."
"That's true," a man in the crowd shouted. "There weren't any cops when the attack happened! If they had passed through Tora Link Way, we'd have seen at least one of their bodies!"
Voices rose around him.
"Bring out the Police Captain!" "He should be questioned!"
Layla raised a hand, quieting the uproar. Her next words dropped like stones in water.
"I was just about to address the matter of the Police Captain… He was the one who ordered the officers on duty to abandon their posts that day. And he's the one who tampered with the surveillance systems."
The entire area fell into stunned silence.
She looked out at them, her voice lowering with gravity. "After we confronted him… he refused to reveal who he was working with. And then… he detonated the bomb. Taking his own life."
Silence deepened. Some gasped. Others stared blankly. The truth had shaken the city to its core.
Later that day, the heroes and Commander Layla gathered at Abyss 9, the underwater base hidden deep beneath Ultra City Ocean. The atmosphere was heavy. The explosion, the betrayal, the truth revealed—it all hung over them like a storm cloud refusing to break.
They sat around the circular war table, the room dimly lit by the glowing interface projected above it.
"What just happened proves it," Johnathan said, his voice cutting through the silence. "They've infiltrated the city. We don't even know how deep it goes… who else could be a traitor?"
Raymond leaned back, folding his arms with a frustrated sigh. "Someone with power. Someone who has ties to the city. This is tough—there's no trail to follow."
"The one clue we had blew himself up," Rudy muttered darkly, staring at the table. "Now we're back at square one."
Tyler glanced up, his eyes flickering with suspicion. "You think it could be Sun and Wukong?"
Jakson scoffed. "You really believe it's them?"
"I mean… we haven't heard a word from them since they escaped," Tyler replied. "Maybe this is their revenge. Maybe they're hiding in the shadows, pulling strings."
But Vilex—their leader—shook his head slowly.
"No," Timothy said. "This doesn't feel like their work."
Everyone looked at him.
"Yes, Sun and Wukong tried to destroy the city. But think about it—does this feel like something they would plan? Something this… calculated?"
Silence followed.
Deep down, they knew he was right. Sun and Wukong were powerful, yes—but impulsive, chaotic. This betrayal felt colder. Smarter. More dangerous.
Layla stood tall, eyes sharp as blades, her voice firm with the weight of what she knew.
"This meeting ends now," she said. "But I'll leave you with this—trust no one. Not even your loved ones. What's coming… it's going to be brutal."
The room went silent.
Without another word, she turned and exited the base with Johnathan close behind. The remaining heroes sat in the war room, each deep in thought. Doubt. Fear. Anger. All of it swirled inside them like a brewing storm.
---
Elsewhere...
A dimly lit chamber flickered with blue flames. The smell of incense and old stone filled the air. Shadows danced on the walls like phantoms. Here, the true orchestrators of the chaos watched in silence.
"So... he blew himself up," Al-Daeem said, seated on a black throne.
Eric—also known as Wukong—grinned. "Well, boss… they caught on to the plan faster than expected."
Al-Daeem smiled faintly. "That was my plan all along. The police captain had served his purpose. He followed orders to the end."
"Do you doubt the boss?" Silas snapped, his glare sharp as a blade.
Joshua raised a hand, calm. "Relax, he didn't say that."
Joshua leaned forward. "When do we strike?"
A calm voice came from the shadows, barely above a whisper. "We attack… when Master Al-Daeem is ready."
Al-Daeem rose, his gaze like death incarnate. "No more arguments," he said coldly. "This is only the beginning. The wound we've opened in this city… it will fester. No one trusts anyone. Friends are enemies. Lovers are traitors. Bit by bit, they'll collapse from within."
He paused, eyes glowing dimly.
"And when Ultra City is at its weakest... when all hope has turned to ashes…"
A cruel smirk tugged at his lips.
"We'll strike. And this city will know true despair."