The night wind brushed softly against Aoi Shigure's cheeks as she sat alone on the rooftop of Providence's estate. Below her, Aegis Prime glittered like a dream painted in starlight. Music, fireworks, and cheering crowds spilling through the streets as if joy itself was mandatory.
But up here, it was quiet. Too quiet.
Her legs dangled over the railing as she hugged her knees to her chest.
I'm supposed to be happy.
That was what idols did. Smile. Shine. Be hope. But when she closed her eyes, all she saw was the look on Asol's face when he told her of his dream. Her chest tightened.
Why did those words hurt so much?
"Asol…" she whispered, the name carried away by the rooftop breeze.
She pressed a hand over her chest.
Why does part of me… feel afraid that he might be right?
Her smile... That perfect idol smile wavered. Then she did something she hadn't done in years.
She let it fall. There were no cameras, no crowds and no one to disappoint. It was just her alone. Aoi Shigure. Not the idol. Not the hero. Just… a girl.
"Why do I have to smile… if smiling hurts?"
The wind didn't answer. But memories did. The city lights below blurred like tears as the past seeped in — memories she had buried under songs, concerts, and camera flashes.
Years ago — before heroes, before the cheers… there was only hunger.
Dust. Smoke. Screams. Her world wasn't made of light back then. It was made of mud and blood. She was just five at the time. Her brother was nine.
They lived in the slums of Aegis Prime before it became Aegis Prime, back when the world was split in half: the rich in their sky towers, and the rest in the dirt below.
Their house was nothing more than a broken shack made from rusted sheets of metal held together by rope and prayers. The walls cried whenever it rained. The roof trembled whenever Kaiju footsteps thundered in the distance. Back then, heroes didn't exist.
Only soldiers and bullets.
"Aoi."
She remembered his voice clearly, clear even though years had passed.
Providence.
But he wasn't Providence, then. He was just her big brother.
Aoi Shoto.
He held her hand tightly as smoke drifted through the alleyways.
"Stay close. Don't cry."
"I-I'm scared…"
"I know. But if you cry, your stomach will hurt more."
He said it like a joke. She didn't laugh. They were hungry. Always. Their mother used to warm her hands and press them against Aoi's cheeks when she cried from hunger. Their father used to sneak into the Upper District, stealing bread just to keep them alive.
They died on a rainy night.
Not to Kaijus.
Not to monsters.
But to people.
A riot broke out between the rich soldiers and the starving slum dwellers. Gunshots. Screams. Smoke. When it ended, their parents didn't come home. Shoto found their bodies in the mud.
He didn't cry. He just pulled a blanket over them and whispered as his eyes burned with a passion to burn the world down:
"They will pay... I WILL make them PAY!"
The next day, Aoi stopped speaking when he told her. The days blurred as they scavenged for food. Sometimes they stole. Sometimes they starved. People died every day. Some from disease, some from Kaijus, and some because they gave up.
And every day, her brother said the same thing.
"We just need to survive one more day."
Hope fell from the sky. It was night.
The ground shook — a Kaiju, massive and grotesque, tearing through the slums like paper. The military didn't come. The rich closed their gates.
Aoi remembered thinking:
So this is where we die.
Her brother stood in front of her, shaking, but his arms spread wide like a shield.
"I'll protect you!"
Even if he couldn't. Even if he died trying.
And then—
Light.
A man descended from the sky, not a soldier, not a god, but a man in worn armor and cloak tattered. Yet he stood tall.
Ultima, The First Hero.
He raised his hand and the Kaiju fell. No one spoke. No one breathed. Ultima didn't leave. He didn't fly back to the shining towers above the clouds.
He walked into the slums as dust clinging to his boots and knelt before the children cowering in the ruins of their home.
"We are not gods," he said. "We are not saviors. Not yet. But if no one will protect the weak — then I will."
Shoto stared at him like he was staring at the sun as Aoi remembered whispering for the first time in months.
"...Are we going to live?"
Ultima smiled.
"If you want to."
That night, he spoke to the world leaders. Those who refused, he fought and those who agreed, he led.
The Hero System was born.
The slums were given food. The towers opened their gates. And Shoto, Aoi's brother, followed in his footsteps. Providence was not his birth name. It was the name the world gave him.
Back to present.
Aoi realized her face was wet. She wasn't sure when she started crying.
"Brother… Asol… What am I supposed to believe in?"
She hugged her knees tighter.
I'm supposed to smile. I'm supposed to make people happy. But… why do I feel like I'm lying to everyone? And why… why do I feel like Asol saw something I can't?
Her voice trembled in the dark.
"If the world is really as perfect as I think… then why am I scared?"
She closed her eyes, and for the first time in years she didn't smile.
A breeze swept over the rooftop— gentle, cool, indifferent. Aoi wiped her eyes before the wind could dry them for her. She wasn't supposed to cry. Not as an idol. Not as a hero. Not as Providence's sister. And especially… not now.
She heard footsteps. Slow. Controlled. Familiar.
"Aoi."
She froze. Providence stood at the rooftop entrance. He wore no cape, no heroic armor, just a simple white shirt and black trousers. The moonlight rested softly on his figure, outlining his calm expression.
"You're late for dinner."
His tone was gentle, playful even, but his eyes were not. Aoi quickly rubbed her face.
"I… wasn't hungry."
Providence didn't move closer. He didn't have to.
"I heard what happened from Kazuma."
Aoi stiffened.
Brother continued:
"You, Kazuma, and Asol. The things he said. How he stormed off."
Silence stretched between them like thin glass. Aoi looked down.
"He said our world isn't real. That we're blind to something… ugly. And everyone including me told him he was wrong."
She clutched at her skirt.
"But when he said it… it scared me. Because I didn't know if I could say he was wrong."
Providence's expression didn't change. He simply walked forward and sat beside her. The city glowed beneath them like a dream that refused to end.
"Aoi," he said softly, "do you remember when you asked Ultima if we were going to live?"
Her breath caught.
"That was a long time ago," she whispered.
"Not for me."
A breeze passed again, brushing their hair.
"When Ultima saved us… he didn't save a world," Providence said. "He saved a belief. A belief that people could become better. That light could exist even in filth."
He looked at her side profile as the moonlight caught in her eyes.
"But Aoi… light always casts a shadow. No matter how bright."
She turned to him startled.
"…Are you saying Asol is right?"
"I'm saying," Providence murmured, "that you cannot protect something you refuse to look at honestly."
Aoi opened her mouth — but no words came.
Down below, somewhere in the darkness…
Asol lay unconscious, exactly where he'd fallen.
A group of dark figures had carried him to a secluded space untouched by the city's glow. His Aura flickered restlessly beneath the skin, pulsing like an unstable heartbeat as his prosthetic arm glowed faintly, as if reacting to something unseen.
Even in sleep, he frowned whispering a single word:
"I'll show them…"
Back on the rooftop
"…Brother."
"Yes?"
"Do you believe this world is perfect?"
Providence did not answer immediately but instead, he smiled— but it was not the smile of the Ultimate Hero. It was quiet. Sad even.
"No world is perfect, Aoi. Not even this one."
He looked toward the stars— and for a moment, his eyes looked impossibly tired.
"Ultima once told me something I've never forgotten."
Aoi blinked.
"What did he say?"
Providence smiled faintly.
"A hero is not someone who protects the perfect world. A hero is someone who loves the world enough to see its ugliness and still chooses to protect it.'"
Aoi's breath trembled as she turned to look at her brother, then the lights, then her hands.
"…Then what am I supposed to do?"
The words came out smaller than she expected. Providence reached out and placed a gentle hand on her head— like he used to when they were kids huddled in the cold.
"You don't have to smile all the time."
Her eyes widened.
"You don't have to be perfect. Just be honest."
Aoi looked down at her trembling hands — and for the first time, she allowed herself to let them fall. No smile. No mask. Only her.
"…It hurts."
"I know."
"…I'm scared."
"I know."
She pressed a shaky hand over her heart.
"What if Asol is right? What if… everything we believed in is a lie?"
Providence's answer came quietly. Honest.
"Then we face it."
Aoi's eyes grew wide.
"Together…?"
Her brother smiled. However, it wasn't one that expressed love even though it may look like it from the outside. Deep behind that smile lay something sinister. Something dark.
"Always."