The old maintenance bunker hummed softly beneath layers of reinforced concrete, its backup generators breathing like something asleep but restless. Dust drifted lazily through the air, illuminated by flickering strips of emergency lighting that hadn't been replaced in years. Somewhere deep in the walls, water pipes ticked as they cooled, each sound too loud in the stillness.
Asol sat on the edge of a metal cot, shirtless, as his shoulders slumped forward. His ribs were tightly wrapped in fresh bandages, with each breath tugging uncomfortably at the bruises beneath. The Adamantium arm rested in its cradle beside him and threaded with faint lines of light that crawled slowly along its surface like dying fireflies.
He flexed his fingers experimentally. The response lagged by a fraction of a second—small enough that most people wouldn't notice.
Asol noticed.
"Tch," he muttered. "I've had worse hangovers."
Across the room, Kurogane stood near the bunker's primary terminal, her crimson eyes fixed on the cascading data scrolling across a cracked holographic screen. Her posture was rigid—not tense, exactly, but alert in the way a drawn blade was alert even while resting in its sheath.
Her Aura moved differently tonight.
Usually it folded inward, tight and disciplined, barely brushing the world around her. Now it rippled in shallow, uneven waves, distorting the air just enough to bend the light at the edges of her silhouette.
She didn't like this place. She didn't like something. Asol caught it after a few seconds.
"You're pacing," he said without looking up.
'I am standing still,' her voice replied inside his head.
"You've been standing still in four different spots."
'…You are observant for someone who was nearly turned into debris.'
He smirked faintly, then winced as his ribs protested.
"Occupational hazard."
Kurogane didn't respond. Her eyes flicked from one sensor readout to another.
It was clean. Her fingers tightened slightly against the terminal's edge.
'I feel something is wrong,' she finally said.
Asol glanced up at her.
"Define wrong," he said. "Because after today, that's a pretty wide category."
She didn't turn to face him.
'Your battle with Blue Volt should have definitely attracted some attention. Granted, we were miles from the city, but someone should have at least noticed the earth trembling,' she said.
That made Asol frown.
"…Now that I think about it..."
Asol exhaled slowly and leaned back against the cot, letting his head rest against the cold concrete wall.
The lights flickered just once and Asol's head snapped up. The bunker didn't lose power. The hum of the generators didn't stutter. Nothing malfunctioned. Reality simply… blinked, and Kurogane turned toward the door. The air changed. Not violently. Not suddenly.
It was the same sensation Asol had felt when he first met a certain someone. The reinforced steel door at the far end of the bunker unlocked itself. One bolt slid free. Then another. Then all of them.
Asol was already on his feet, with pain screaming through his side as he instinctively reached for his Adamantium arm. Kurogane's Aura flared tight and lethal.
The door then opened as it swung inward slowly, almost politely. A tall figure stepped through the threshold, with their shoes clicking softly against the bunker's concrete floor as if he were entering a well-kept office instead of a forgotten hole beneath the city.
Providence smiled.
He wore an immaculate white coat over dark, tailored clothing, untouched by dust or grime. His hair was perfectly combed. His posture relaxed, hands folded loosely behind his back as he glanced around the bunker with mild curiosity. Like a guest. Like an owner checking on property.
"Good evening," he said pleasantly.
His voice was warm.
"Asol Ansaldo," Providence continued, eyes settling on him with gentle focus. "I hope I'm not intruding."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Kurogane's Aura screamed.
Asol felt the old pressure crawl up his spine—not the suffocating certainty of the loop, but something heavier. Broader. As if the very concept of choice had been politely asked to wait outside.
"…How'd you find us," Asol said, keeping his voice steady.
Providence tilted his head slightly, amused.
"Find you?" he echoed. "No. I've always known where you were, at all times."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Kurogane. Not dismissive, not fearful, but evaluative.
"And you must be the girl," he added smoothly. "Kurogane, was it?"
The space around her warped violently. Asol stepped half a pace forward without thinking.
"Don't—"
Providence lifted a single finger.
The pressure intensified not enough to crush, but enough to paralyze the two in place.
"Please," Providence said gently. "I didn't come here to fight."
His eyes returned to Asol, the smile never leaving his face.
"I came to talk."
The pressure didn't lift.
It didn't need to.
Providence stood in the center of the bunker like he belonged there—like the concrete, the dust, the humming generators had been arranged around him out of courtesy. His presence wasn't oppressive in the way brute force was.
It was… authoritative.
Asol's instincts screamed at him to move, to swing, to do something. But every muscle in his body understood the same quiet truth at once.
If Providence wanted him dead, this conversation wouldn't be happening.
Providence clasped his hands behind his back again and began to walk slowly, unhurried, as his boots clicked softly as he passed the terminal, the supply crates, and the patched walls. His eyes traced everything with polite interest.
"You've chosen an interesting hiding place," he said conversationally.
His gaze flicked briefly to Kurogane.
"Very clever. But that is to be expected. After all, you were made to be."
Her teeth clenched. The distortion around her fingers sharpened, space screaming quietly as she restrained herself.
Asol forced his voice to stay level.
"If you're here to congratulate us on not dying," he said, "you can save it."
Providence chuckled softly.
"Oh no," he replied. "I came because you didn't die."
He stopped walking and turned to face Asol fully.
"I watched your fight with Blue Volt."
The words landed heavier than any blow.
Asol's eyes narrowed.
"…You were there."
Providence nodded once.
"Not physically," he clarified. "That would have been… inelegant. But I saw it all. Every hit exchanged, every word, every adaptation."
His smile widened—proud, almost fond.
"You exceeded my expectations. And for that, I congragulate you."
Kurogane snapped.
'You let it happen.'
Providence turned his head toward her, unfazed.
"Yes," he said simply. "I did."
Her Aura flared violently as the air bent so sharply that cracks spiderwebbed across the bunker walls.
'People died because of you,' she hissed. 'Friends and Families. And those like me.'
Providence regarded her with something like sympathy.
"And yet," he said, "you are still alive. Still defiant and still… useful."
Asol stepped forward again, ignoring the ache in his ribs.
"You watched Blue Volt try to kill me," he said. "You watched him drag me through time."
"That, I did."
"And you didn't intervene?"
Providence tilted his head, considering.
"Why would I?" he asked gently. "He was doing exactly what I taught him to do."
Blue lightning flashed in Asol's memory. The Timescape. The boy running backward forever.
"You knew he was on the breaking point," Asol said.
"Yes."
"And you knew he might turn on you."
Providence's smile thinned—just a fraction.
"Everyone turns eventually," he said. "Yet the difference is whether they do so in a way that still benefits the system and me."
Asol clenched his jaw.
"You're talking about people like they're components."
Providence nodded.
"They are."
The word was delivered without cruelty. Without heat. As a statement of fact. He gestured vaguely with one hand.
"Blue Volt was never meant to be stable," Providence continued. "Speed like his cannot exist without erosion or backlash. So, I gave him structure, a purpose, and a direction to run."
"And when he would stop believing?" Asol asked.
Providence's eyes sharpened.
"Then he would become a variable," he said. "One that would also rival my abilities."
Kurogane's voice trembled with barely restrained fury.
'You used him.'
Providence met her gaze evenly.
"No. I gave him a world where his father's death had meaning," he replied. "Where chaos was contained. Where his pain became progress and strength."
Asol barked a short, humorless laugh.
"You call that progress?"
Providence turned back to him.
"I call it survival."
He stepped closer now, close enough that Asol could see his own reflection in Providence's eyes.
"You come from a dead world, Asol Ansaldo," Providence said softly. "You know what happens when no one is willing to make the hard choices."
Asol didn't look away.
"I know what happens when people like you make them for everyone else."
Providence smiled again wider this time.
"And yet," he said, "you're still standing. Still resisting. Still inspiring others to follow you."
He glanced meaningfully toward the place where Blue Volt had vanished hours earlier.
"You turned my fastest enforcer into a liability," Providence continued. "Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
Asol felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"You're not here to threaten me, are you," he asked.
Providence nodded.
"Correct."
"So what is it?"
Providence's smile sharpened—just enough to be dangerous.
"To understand you."
The bunker lights flickered again as Providence folded his hands once more.
"You fight without believing you'll win," he said. "You've endured outcomes you've already accepted. But you don't run from inevitability. Instead, you challenge it."
His eyes gleamed.
"That makes you very… interesting."
Kurogane took a step forward, space distorting violently around her.
'Say what you came to say,' she demanded. 'Or leave.'
Providence turned to her, unfazed.
"Oh, I intend to leave," he said pleasantly. "Soon."
He looked back at Asol.
"But before I do… I want you to know something."
Asol braced.
"I'm not afraid of what you're planning," Providence said calmly. "I've already accounted for it. I've already planned everything out."
His gaze sharpened, voice lowering just enough to feel intimate.
"And the Tournament of Heroes?" he added.
Asol's blood ran cold.
Providence smiled.
"I'll be watching that too."
The bunker fell deathly still as Providence took a step back toward the open doorway. His presence began to recede slowly, deliberately, like a tide pulling away before a tsunami.
"Rest well, Asol Ansaldo," he said warmly. "You've earned it."
His eyes flicked once more to Kurogane.
"And you," he added. "Be careful how many rules you break."
Then he paused at the threshold and glanced back over his shoulder and then looked forward. The door closed and the pressure vanished. The bunker's hum returned to normal. Asol staggered, catching himself against the cot, with his heart hammering while Kurogane stood frozen, with her fists clenched as space slowly settled around her.
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Asol exhaled.
"…So he knows."
Kurogane nodded slowly.
'Yes.'
Asol wiped a hand down his face, exhaustion crashing over him like a wave.
"And he came alone," he muttered.
Kurogane's eyes darkened.
'Which means,' she said quietly, 'he doesn't think we can stop him.'
Asol straightened—slowly, painfully.
"Good," he said, voice hardening.
"That would be his first mistake."