Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 593: Event Day 1 (Part 8)
Outside—
Charles tried to close the distance.
He pushed forward—
But one of the rotors swung wildly.
WHRRR—!
It forced him back immediately.
He clicked his tongue.
Irritated.
His gaze flicked briefly to his damaged wing.
It held steady—
But barely.
Fast maneuvers like that again—
Risky.
Too risky.
He steadied himself in the air instead.
Watching.
Waiting.
Looking for an opening.
---
Inside—
The ground rushed closer.
The spin worsened.
Bodies jerked violently in their seats.
Hands gripped whatever they could.
Eyes wide.
Breathing uneven.
Don didn’t move at first.
His gaze locked forward.
Calculating.
Timing.
Then—
Just before impact—
His eyes ignited.
A bright blue glow.
His arms shot outward.
The entire helicopter—
Lit up.
Engulfed in a blue aura.
The descent—
Stopped.
Not gently.
Violently.
Every person inside—
Except Don—
Was jerked forward in their seats as the force hit.
Straps pulled tight.
Bodies strained.
The chopper hung in place.
Mid-air.
For a moment—
Nothing moved.
Don’s jaw tightened.
Strain crept across his face, muscles along his arms and neck tensing as he held the weight—
The spinning slowed.
Gradually.
Then—
He lowered it.
The helicopter touched the rooftop—
Thump—
The rotors still scraping as they slowed—
SKRRRRT—~
The body tilted slightly to one side.
But it held.
They were down.
Alive.
For a moment—
No one spoke.
Then—
Breaths released.
Sighs followed.
Loudest—
From the pilots.
"Jesus—"
"We’re alive..."
Don didn’t react.
His focus snapped outward again.
Scanning.
Listening.
Watching.
He moved first.
The door on his side opened—
CLACK—!
He stepped out onto the rooftop.
Wind pulled at his clothes as he turned back immediately.
"Hurry," he said. "Get out. Now."
No hesitation.
They moved.
Belts undone in rushed motions.
Hands fumbling briefly.
Then one by one they stepped out.
Amanda first.
Then Samantha, helping Summer along.
Claire guided Sylvia carefully.
All of them stayed close to Don once outside.
He turned slightly as he reached back, offering a hand to Claire as she stepped down.
As he did—
His head shifted.
Looking up.
Charles descended from above, landing onto the rooftop with a controlled drop.
THUD—!
"There’s about twelve of those things across the city," he said immediately, voice urgent. "This is bad, Don. If we—"
He stopped.
At the same time—
Don did too.
Both of them turned.
Their senses catching something.
Far.
In the distance.
Toward SHQ.
Then—
They saw it.
From the direction of the complex—
Missiles launched.
One after another.
ROOOOOSH—! ROOOOOSH—! ROOOOOSH—!
Trails of smoke carved through the sky as they ascended rapidly.
Dozens.
Maybe more.
The sky itself began to fill with them.
Behind Don—
No one spoke.
They just stared.
Frozen.
Watching.
As the missiles climbed higher.
And higher.
At first, it looked wrong in a way that didn’t immediately register. The angle—too steep. Too wide. Not the path of something meant to strike the ground.
Don’s eyes narrowed.
His head tilted slightly as he tracked them, gaze following the trails cutting through the sky.
"...that’s not right," he said under his breath.
Claire shifted beside him, one arm still wrapped around Sylvia. The girl clung to her side, fingers tight against her sleeve. Claire’s eyes flicked toward Don, catching the change in his expression.
Not panic.
Concern.
That was enough.
Samantha noticed it too.
So did Charles.
All of them followed Don’s line of sight.
Charles stepped forward, wings folding slightly behind him as he squinted upward. "Is something wrong?"
Don didn’t look at him.
His eyes stayed locked on the missiles.
"...something doesn’t feel right."
They kept rising.
Past the height most aircraft would operate.
Past where the smoke trails began to thin.
The sky darkened slightly at that altitude, the blue deepening as the missiles pushed higher still.
Then—
The thrusters died.
One by one.
The roaring burn cut out almost all at once.
The trails stopped extending.
For a brief moment—
They hung there.
Tiny shapes against the sky.
Then—
They broke apart.
Chunks of metal separated mid-air, splitting cleanly from the main bodies. Casings peeled away, sections drifting outward as if shed on purpose.
Until—
Only the heads remained.
Compact.
Streamlined.
And then—
Vrrrrrr—~
New thrusters ignited.
Smaller.
Each head adjusted—
Tilted—
And then moved.
Not down.
Across.
They shot out in different directions, scattering wide over the city. Some veered left, others right, some continued forward before shifting again mid-flight.
A spread.
Don saw all of it.
Clear.
Every movement. Every shift in direction.
His jaw tightened.
"...something’s happening," he said.
Behind him—
No one else could see it.
Charles strained, eyes narrowing further, but the distance was too great. "I can barely make them out... what are they doing?"
The girls saw nothing.
Just empty sky where the trails had ended.
But the way Don spoke—
The way his voice dropped—
It was enough.
A cold feeling settled in.
Unspoken.
But heavy.
Summer’s fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. Samantha’s posture stiffened, her gaze flicking between Don and the sky as if trying to force herself to see what he saw.
Claire’s grip around Sylvia tightened slightly.
Sylvia didn’t ask.
She just stayed close.
Charles opened his mouth—
Then stopped.
His phone vibrated.
He pulled it out immediately and answered without hesitation.
"What is it now?"
A pause.
Then—
"What!?"
His posture shifted.
Straightened.
Eyes snapping upward again.
"So then they’re still above the city...?"
Don glanced at him briefly.
Then back to the sky.
Charles stepped closer. "What’s happening exactly?"
Don didn’t sugarcoat it.
"...only the heads of the missiles are left."
Silence followed.
Short.
Heavy.
Don’s gaze hardened as he tracked their spread.
Too controlled.
Too precise.
His mind moved fast.
Missile separation.
Independent movement.
Multiple targets.
One thought forced its way forward.
’Warheads.’
A second followed.
’What kind?’
His stomach tightened.
’If those are nuclear...’
His eyes flicked down briefly—
To the people behind him.
Summer.
Sylvia.
Amanda.
Claire.
Samantha.
Then back to the sky.
’Would they survive?’
The question didn’t sit right.
Another came right after.
’Would I?’
His jaw set.
Charles’s expression shifted at the same time.
The realization hit him just as hard.
"Dammit—"
He turned away slightly, phone already back at his ear.
"Okay, we can’t wait for father," he said quickly. "I need you to send out the fastest fighter jets we have."
He paced once, boots scraping lightly against the rooftop surface.
"Those missile heads can’t be allowed to fall to the city, do you hear me?"
A pause.
His jaw clenched.
"This isn’t the time for ’buts,’ dammit! I don’t care what my brother thinks—lives are at stake so you will do what I told you now!!"
His voice rose.
The call cut shortly after.
Charles lowered the phone slowly.
Still holding it.
He looked up again.
Frowned.
"I can’t fly that high with an injured wing," he said, quieter now. "And if the jets delay..."
He stopped.
Then dropped his head once.
Fast.
Frustration.
"We need to get somewhere safe," he said. "Now."
He turned slightly, gesturing back toward the direction of their hom.
"The tower has a bunker several levels under it. If we make it back—"
"No time."
Don cut him off.
Immediate.
His gaze had already shifted back toward the city.
The streets below.
Traffic.
Gridlocked.
Cars packed tight between intersections, some abandoned, others trying to force their way through blocked routes.
Emergency vehicles stuck between civilian lanes.
No clear path.
"...besides," Don added, frown deepening, "we’re not gonna make it through all that traffic."
Charles exhaled sharply.
Frustration again—
But no argument.
Behind them—
Footsteps.
One of the pilots approached, a rifle now slung over his shoulder, another in hand.
"Sir," he said, slightly out of breath, "another chopper will be here in twenty minutes."
Don glanced back.
Then shook his head once.
"We don’t have twenty minutes."
He turned immediately.
Eyes locking onto a fire escape at the edge of the rooftop.
Metal.
Old.
But intact.
"Follow me."
He moved without waiting.
Boots hitting the surface in quick, controlled steps as he crossed toward it.
The group hesitated.
Just for a second. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮
Summer more than the others.
Her voice came out smaller than she probably intended.
"...are we gonna die?"
Don didn’t stop.
Didn’t turn.
Didn’t soften it.
"We will be if we don’t move," he said quickly. "Now."
He reached the fire escape and grabbed the railing, pulling it down—
CLANG—!
The metal ladder dropped into place with a hard jolt.
He stepped onto it immediately.
The structure rattled under his weight—
He didn’t slow, quickly typing out a message on his phone as he did.
Behind him—
They followed.
One by one.
Faster now.
Because above them—
Unseen—
The missile heads continued to spread.
And whatever came next—
Was getting closer.
