One month passed.
With a lot of sweat, bruises, sparks, broken floors—and.... shouting.
The new training grounds stretched wide beneath the artificial sky dome, layered with reinforced steel plates, adaptive terrain, and floating observation drones. Every section was isolated, soundproofed, and built to withstand far more punishment than the old headquarters ever could.
And right now?
They were being tested.
Hard.
Tuka stood barefoot at the center of his zone, fists clenched, knuckles bruised raw.
Across from him, three automated combat units rushed forward in sync.
He exhaled.
Then moved.
His stance dropped low—Kyokushin form. No wasted motion. No flashy movements.
A low kick shattered the knee joint of the first unit.
A straight punch cracked the chest plate of the second.
He took the third head-on—absorbed the impact—then drove an elbow straight through its core.
The unit collapsed.
Tuka staggered slightly, chest heaving.
Pain throbbed through his muscles.
But he didn't stop.
He reset his stance again.
Because endurance was the point.
Several zones away—
An explosion echoed.
Then another.
And another.
Smoke filled the air as Chiki burst through it, laughing like a maniac.
"HAHA—DID YOU SEE THAT ONE!?"
He skidded across the ground, rolling to avoid incoming fire, tossing a small sphere behind him without even looking.
The sphere blinked once.
BOOM.
A training dummy disintegrated.
Chiki popped up, arms raised. "NEW RECIPE WORKS!!"
Another blast threw him backward.
He crashed into the wall.
"…Okay maybe needs less boom."
He stood anyway.
Bruised. Burnt. Smiling.
Still throwing bombs.
Peppy zipped across the vertical course using her grappling hooks, momentum swinging her from pillar to pillar.
She misjudged one swing, slammed into a wall—
—and laughed.
"WORTH IT!"
Below her, Poppy barked commands into her mic, adjusting simulations and timing traps mid-run.
"Your angle is off by three degrees, Peppy! Again!"
Clementess stood nearby, silent, voice sealed, eyes fixed on a sound-frequency display as invisible waves bent and shattered targets in front of her.
She didn't smile.
She didn't blink.
The ground trembled slightly every time her power resonated.
Bandri sparred with reinforced humanoid units—no powers, just raw discipline and movement.
Every hit she took, she returned twice as clean.
Nearby, Bandy sat cross-legged, electricity dancing quietly around his fingers as he focused on control.
No screaming.
No storms.
Just restraint.
Sweat rolled down his face.
But the lightning didn't escape.
Not this time.
And then—
There was Bear.
Not fighting.
Not training.
Not moving.
He was stretched out on a lounge chair beside the glass observation wall, one arm resting behind his head, the other holding a juice box.
Apple juice.
Next to him, Muka sat upside-down on another chair, legs draped over the backrest, chewing chips lazily.
"Training looks tiring," Muka said.
Bear took a sip. "Yeah."
On the other side of the glass—
A massive mechanical combat robot, designed by Chitki herself, tore through simulated enemies with terrifying efficiency.
Hydraulic limbs slammed into the floor, cannons firing, adaptive armor shifting mid-combat.
It was built for Bear.
Bear didn't bother standing.
"Robot's doing fine," he said calmly.
Muka nodded. "It's working harder than you."
Bear shrugged. "Good. That's what it's for."
Above Them All
Tema watched from the upper platform.
Every hero.
Every flaw.
Every improvement.
One month wasn't enough to fix everything.
But it was enough to start changing things.
The headquarters was alive again.
Stronger.
Louder.
Sharper.
And far above the training grounds—
On the outer edge of the tower—
A shadow sat crouched, knees bent, arms resting loosely, watching everything.
The air around the figure distorted subtly.
The shadow straightened.
A faint smile appeared beneath the hood.
"Man, they're all working too hard, only for me to come and destroy them...," a calm voice murmured.
The space behind him folded inward—
a clean, silent portal opening like a tear in reality.
"Let's see....," he said quietly.
Then he stepped backward.
The portal closed.
And the sky returned to normal.