Tiny Hero Ch 9: Destruction Of District 4!

I didn't think I was gonna make it home.

Each step felt heavier than the last. My legs were wobbling like I'd just stepped off a carnival ride, my arms were tingling like I'd stuck my hands into a power outlet, and don't even get me started on my vision—everything looked a little... off. Too sharp around the edges, too bright in the corners. I kept blinking, hoping that would fix it. It didn't.

"Guess that machine affected me more than I thought," I muttered to myself, rubbing my eyes and stumbling forward.

The air had a weird static to it, like the kind before a thunderstorm—except this wasn't a storm. This was something else.

I was halfway down the sidewalk, maybe two blocks from my apartment, when the ground under my feet gave a low groan. Not like a creak or a pop. I mean a groan. Like the earth itself was stretching after a long nap.

Then the shaking started.

At first, it was subtle. Just enough to make me glance down and wonder if I was imagining it. But then the rumble turned into a full-blown tremor. I dropped to one knee, then flat-out hit the pavement as the ground bucked beneath me like a pissed-off bull.

"What the hell?!"

Dust shot into the air. Streetlamps swayed like they were about to topple. Somewhere behind me, a car alarm wailed, followed by the distant crash of glass shattering. I threw my arms over my head just in time to feel chunks of rubble and debris hit the ground around me.

I didn't even know where it was coming from—walls? Buildings? The sky? Everything felt like it was falling apart.

When I peeked up, coughing through the dust, I caught sight of it: through the haze, nestled just beyond the collapsing skyline of District 4, was a Minari City. Or at least what was left of it.

It was a stacked city, built into layers like a concrete wedding cake. Huge towers, commercial spires, freight rail lines—District 4's pride and joy. And now, from what I could tell, it looked like someone had dropped a meteor into it.

The rumbling wasn't stopping. If anything, it was getting worse.

I pushed myself up on shaky legs and looked forward—and that's when I saw it.

At first, it looked like a mountain. A moving mountain. Something so tall and massive that it blotted out the afternoon sun. I froze. Completely. My body went cold, even though my skin still buzzed with leftover electricity.

The "mountain" took another slow step forward, and the shockwave alone knocked me flat again. Cars nearby rolled like toys. Windows exploded outward in a chorus of glass and steel. I scrambled backward, heart hammering, staring up at this impossibly large shape.

Then it stopped.

Another wave of dust shot outward. More rubble rained down. I curled up, trying not to breathe too deep, praying that whatever it was hadn't seen me. After a few seconds, I peeked out again—squinting through the chaos.

That's when I saw it.

It wasn't a mountain.

No, this thing... these things... were bodies.

Two of them. Colossal. Humanoid. Completely naked, their skin glinting slightly in the light like polished marble. They were pressed together in an embrace—no, more like they had crashed into one another, their limbs tangled, their expressions unreadable from where I was.

But they weren't statues. They breathed.

Their chests rose and fell, creating pressure waves that blew debris down the street. The ground pulsed beneath me like a heartbeat as they embraced one another.

"Obelisks," I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

It was obscene.

There I was, lying in the dirt, bruised from falling face-first into a cracked stretch of pavement, and what was towering over the remains of one of our cities? Two Obelisks. Naked. Fused together in a rhythmic mess of flesh and destruction. Right in the center of Myralis, one of the largest Minari cities in District 4.

I blinked hard. No, this wasn't a hallucination. I wasn't concussed—or at least, not that concussed. My stomach flipped, not from the sight itself, but from the way they did it. The woman—if I could even call her that—was straddling the male like he was nothing more than a reclining mountain. Her hands, easily the size of houses, slammed into the earth with each pulse of her pleasure. Each thrust sent cracks through the buildings below. Each moan? A low, hellish tremor that made my teeth buzz in my skull.

And the man, gods, he barely moved. But even his minor shifts—his leg twitching, his hips rolling—sent entire blocks tumbling. I watched in horror as his shoulder casually leveled a tower trying to cling to its last structural support. Just gone, in an instant. A whole district flattened under the weight of casual lust.

"Obelisks..." I muttered, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

I'd heard stories. Everyone has. Stories that were well known. Stories about the unseen and violent acts of the obelisks.

Turns out? They're real. Very real. And they had no shame. None. Just two titans in broad daylight turning a city into their private bedroom while people screamed below them. While families ran. While I sat frozen, staring up at them like a bug wondering if it'll be crushed beneath the next footfall.

I grit my teeth. My fists curled into the loose dirt. My blood was hot—boiling, even—and it wasn't just from the damn machine earlier. It was rage. Pure, helpless rage.

This was how they treated us. This is what we were to them. Background noise. Insects. They could destroy entire cities because of a mood. Because they were horny, or bored, or simply didn't care.

I wanted to vomit as wrt squishy noises echoed through the area as the woman humped the man like a wild animal.

There had been rumors of Obelisks trying to make peace. Saying they wanted to find a "balance." Some high-minded idea of living alongside us instead of towering above us like unfeeling titans. I wanted to believe those rumors. I wanted to hope.

But this? This right here was proof that hope might be pointless. Because if this was what they were really like—if this was their idea of coexisting—then we were screwed.

I coughed as more dust blew into my face. From the haze, I could see them—tiny figures. Minaris. Running from the wreckage. Some limped. Some carried others. I saw a mother gripping a child to her chest, sprinting through rubble, hair caked in gray soot. Behind her, the woman-Obelisk let out a primal, bone-shaking moan that collapsed another structure, sending a wave of debris right in their path.

And that was it. That was the last straw.

I pushed myself off the ground, my legs weak, my head pounding, but my heart dead-set.

I couldn't just walk away from this. I couldn't pretend I didn't see what I saw. People needed help. And I had legs. I had arms. I had a brain still wired (mostly) together. Even if I wasn't a soldier or a hero or someone important—I had to try.

Even if that meant running straight into a nightmare.

"Okay, Pete," I muttered, wiping dust and sweat off my brow. "Let's do something incredibly stupid."

And then I ran toward the smoke. Toward the screams. Toward the moaning, rumbling giants who hadn't even noticed the lives they were shattering below.

I didn't know what I could do.

But I knew one thing for sure:

I couldn't just stand by and let it happen.

Not today.