Helluva Boss X Reader (Season 1)

CHAPTER 88: ROOTBOUND

Y/N clenched her fist.

There was nothing in front of her.

Nothing but twisted trees, damp earth, and dense vegetation.

The unfamiliar scents stripped away any sense of security she had for the day.

All she could smell was moisture. Soil. Life.

There was no smoke.
No gasoline.
No shouts, engines, or distant gunfire.

The silence was overwhelming — just the wind, branches creaking against each other, Leaves brushing past one another as if the forest itself were breathing.

There wasn't a single trace of the familiar chaos of IMP City.

For a second, she felt grateful that the sky was still red. At least something was familiar.

Not even the rough, rigid texture of the dark protective suit she wore helped her relax. The hardened plates forced her to stand straight.

They made her feel bigger. Clumsier. As if the ground were waiting for the exact moment to knock her flat.

She swallowed.

She had imagined this test hundreds of times.
At night.
During training.
In silence. Even in her dreams.

She had planned every possible outcome.

But none of them...

None of them were like this.

The slam of the van door behind her made Y/N flinch.

Blitzø: Alright, listen up.

The apprentice kept her eyes forward.

Blitzø stood in front of her, arms crossed. Behind him, the vast forest seemed to fold in on itself.
Waiting.

Moxxie and Millie took their positions behind the pup in silence.

Blitzø: The test is "Capture the Flag." You know the drill.

He pointed toward the edge of the woods. A half-rotten wooden sign hung crookedly between two tree trunks.

Redroot Grove.

Barely clinging to a single rusty nail.

Blitzø: The flag's somewhere in there. You grab it... you win. Simple.

Before Y/N could feel any relief, the Imp raised a finger.

Blitzø: BUT, if we take you out... you're done.

He stepped closer, tapping specific spots on her body armor.

Blitzø: Torso. Back. Chest. One clean hit here... you're dead. Same rules for us. MOX!

The shout made Y/N's ears flatten against her head.

Moxxie stepped forward, carrying a gun. He handed it to Blitzø without a word. Before returning to his place, he cast a sideways glance at the pup. Unreadable. Cold.

Blitzø aimed at the nearest tree.

SPLAT.

Paint exploded against the trunk in a splash of pastel yellow.

He reloaded with a sharp click.

Then he held the gun out to Y/N.

Blitzø: Paint guns, training knives, and fake grenades for everyone. They won't kill you... but they'll make you wish they did.

He grinned, pacing like an over-the-top drill sergeant while Millie fitted Y/N with the retractable practice knife and ammo belt.

Blitzø: No hits to the neck or head. No shots to the eyes, so—KEEP.. the goggles.. on.