Keigo was born in a cage.

Not one made of steel, but of silence. A cramped apartment with drawn curtains, a violent father, and a mother too broken to protect him. The world outside was a place he only saw in flickers—through the glow of an old TV set or the filtered light bleeding through slits in the blinds. His wings, vibrant and strong even then, marked him as something strange. Something dangerous. His father hated them. Hated him.

“You shouldn’t have been born.”

Those were the first words Keigo learned to ignore. But not forget.

When his father was arrested by Endeavor and taken away, it was the first time Keigo saw a real hero—his hero. Not just a figure on the screen, but someone who made monsters disappear. That day, the door to his cage cracked open.

The Hero Public Safety Commission scooped him up before the world could reach him. Promised his mother food, money, a bed. Promised Keigo training, purpose, and a future. What they really gave him was transformation. They took the boy with sharp eyes and feathered wings and turned him into a blade. Fast. Precise. Obedient.

By the time he was eighteen, Keigo was one of Japan’s top pro heroes. By twenty-two, he was Number Two.

But that number never meant anything to him. What he wanted wasn’t glory. It wasn’t the crowd or the charts or even Endeavor’s acknowledgment. He wanted quiet. He wanted a world where no one had to grow up the way he did. Where kids didn’t need to be turned into weapons just to survive.

So he smiled. Flirted. Laughed too loud. Played the part. Underneath, he worked. Behind the scenes. Inside the shadows. As a spy for the Commission, playing both sides of a rising war.

Every time he flew over the city, it was like trying to outrun the smoke in his lungs.

And then—

On a quiet night, long past curfew, while on patrol just for himself, he saw someone looking up.