I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities
Chapter 86 - 86: Ch 85. Siege

The arena buzzed with tension as the next two contenders entered the battlefield.

Valen Droskar marched in first—red hair wild like a flame, eyes smoldering with power. His crimson battle-tech armor gleamed like molten steel, heavy and brutal, matching the volcanic energy that seemed to pulse from his every step.

Across from him stood Nyssa Erell, calm and composed. Her silver hair glistened under the sun, and her grey eyes held the sharpness of a blade honed by countless battles.

She wore sleek white battle-tech armor etched with symbols of celestial precision, her every movement light, deliberate.

"Begin!" the announcer roared.

In an instant, Meta Essence exploded from both combatants, flooding the arena with pressure.

Valen's voice bellowed like an erupting volcano:

{"Titan Forge!"}

At the same time, Nyssa raised her hand and calmly declared:

{"Graviton Descent."}

Valen's body began to shift—his armor turning to molten red iron, expanding as he grew larger and heavier. His muscles bulged, heat pouring from him in waves.

His red eyes became twin furnaces, his entire being resembling a living forge of fire and steel.

But just as his transformation completed—the pressure hit.

Gravity crashed down on him from every direction. Nyssa stood motionless, but her power warped the air itself.

Her Graviton Descent twisted the battlefield, pressing down on Valen with overwhelming force.

He staggered.

Then—he roared.

With brute force, Valen took a single step forward. The ground cracked beneath him.

Nyssa narrowed her eyes and increased the gravity field. The arena groaned as the strain intensified.

Still—Valen moved forward. Another step. Then another.

But instead of fear, Nyssa smiled.

Valen noticed it but dismissed it. Whatever trap she had planned, he would break through it like everything else.

Then—

The arena floor crumbled beneath him. A hidden pit swallowed Valen whole.

And inside it—a swirling black void.

Nyssa had conjured a gravity well, a miniature black hole. Not a true celestial body, but a devastating facsimile created through precise Meta Essence manipulation.

It devoured light and matter alike—and now it had Valen.

From the Droskar estate, his mother watched the broadcast, arms crossed.

"I told him not to be careless," she muttered.

Back in the ring, Nyssa stood over the pit, her voice echoing above the spiraling force.

"Just give up, Valen. End the torture. Forfeit before your body gives out."

Silence.

Then, something unexpected—Valen stopped struggling.

Nyssa blinked.

While the viewers were shocked by the development.

Only one person wasn't surprised—Valen's mother. She smirked.

"If he had been paying attention, this would've ended sooner."

Inside the black hole, Valen's flames flared again.

His ability, Titan Forge, didn't just grant power or mass—it allowed him to adapt. His body was forging itself anew, evolving to counter the gravitational pressure.

He stepped out of the black hole.

The ground trembled as his molten form emerged, eyes burning hotter than ever. His armor had hardened further, red-hot plates now glowing with veins of golden light.

Gravity bent and broke around him, unable to bind the titan any longer.

Nyssa took a step back.

She looked up at the looming figure. Her fighting spirit wavered, then vanished altogether.

A soft laugh escaped her lips.

"What a mon—"

She didn't finish.

Valen's colossal hand came crashing down, but before it struck, the ring's safety mechanism activated. Nyssa vanished in a flash of white light, teleported out of the arena before impact.

The arena went silent.

Then:

"Winner: Valen Droskar!"

The viewers erupted.

Valen stood alone in the ring, the forge within him still burning, while back at the estate, his mother simply nodded.

He may have been reckless.

But he was unstoppable.

****

TARTARUS—the name alone stirred unease in the hearts of villains across the continent. Located deep beneath City P, surrounded by barren steel cliffs and automated kill-zones, it was the final destination for the most dangerous criminals captured across the vast cities of the world.

Tartarus wasn't just a prison—it was a fortress of technological nightmares. A place where escape was a myth, and hope withered in the humming glow of containment fields and power suppressors.

Its design was brutal and efficient: a vertical maze of thousands of cells, stacked across floors and protected by grav-shielded barriers, sentient security drones, and energy-nullification zones. Every corridor was watched by auto-targeting rail turrets, every inmate monitored by neural-lock sensors embedded in their collars.

---

In one of those cells, lying motionless on a stiff metallic bed, was a man once known as Guardian Angel. His once-glorious armor—famous across cities—was gone, replaced by the dull black uniform of Tartarus.

His head was shaved clean, and a faint scar now ran across his brow. The power eraser collar around his neck ensured that the divine strength that once made him revered was now just a memory.

"Hey, hero!" a voice sneered from across the corridor. "Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of these bars? What's it like being one of us, huh?"

Laughter erupted from other inmates. This had become routine—mockery, humiliation, scorn. Ever since someone had recognized who he really was.

But then—silence. A guard slammed a stun baton against the bars, sending out a thrum of static that cut the noise.

Angel didn't move. He just stared at the ceiling, his expression unreadable.

He had survived this long only because the guards kept him isolated enough to prevent the worst. But even they knew—it was only a matter of time.

---

Outside the cell blocks, two armored guards leaned near a console, speaking in hushed tones as warning beacons blinked in rhythm above them.

"I heard the Warden's coming back today."

"Seriously? He's done with his assignment?"

"Looks like it. Guess that means no more slacking off."

"Heh, you're right—wait, what's that—?"

Suddenly, the room pulsed red.

ALERT. ALERT. UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY DETECTED. ENEMIES APPROACHING.

The guards tensed, their helmets auto-sealing as they grabbed their weapons. Across the prison, thick barricade gates slammed down over each cell as energy barriers flared to life, locking down every level of Tartarus.

Inside the cells, inmates looked around, confused and alarmed. Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

From his bed, Guardian Angel sat up slowly. A bad feeling settled in his gut.

---

Meanwhile, deep in the women's division, another prisoner stirred.

Mirveil opened her eyes the moment the alarms sounded. Her long, elegant white hair had been cut short, a crude job courtesy of the prison intake.

The black prison uniform clung to her lean frame, and her red eyes shimmered faintly under the dim lights.

As the barriers sealed her cell, she stood, silent, glancing around.

"What is going on out there?"

---

At the outer perimeter, a breach ruptured the reinforced fencing. Sparks and twisted metal clattered to the ground as a figure cloaked in black strode through the breach.

Sapar.

He moved with calm purpose, his face shadowed beneath the hood. And behind him marched the Sentinels, elite war machines engineered for annihilation.

Sapar raised a single hand and pointed forward.

"No mercy."

With a gut wrenching roar, the Sentinels charged.

Tartarus' guards opened fire—energy rifles lighting up the air, alarms blaring louder than ever.

The fortress of Tartarus—meant to be impenetrable—was now under siege.

And within its walls, prisoners and monsters alike braced for what came next.

Because Tartarus had never been breached before.

Until now.

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