“Born ready,” he said.

They charged not as two heroes, but as one force: the scorching depth of a volcano meeting the cold, sharp instinct of the deep. The first punch didn’t just hit the Auditor—it remembered him. It remembered every dream he’d ever crushed, every crayon snapped in half, every “grow up” whispered into a child’s ear.

Sharkboy stepped forward, placing himself between Lavagirl and the oncoming gray tide. His fin caught the last sliver of sunset.