Jamal scrambled backward, clutching his chest and gasping for air, his eyes wide as he looked at his savior.
The giant didn't look at the crowd, nor did he look at the boy right away. He stepped forward, his massive black combat boot coming to rest firmly and immovably squarely on the center of the downed officer's chest. It wasn't a stomp; it was a deliberate, heavy pinning, locking the agent to the ground like a captured insect.
The officer looked up, his previous arrogance utterly destroyed, replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror as he stared into the cold eyes of the titan above him.
The giant slowly raised his hand, pointing a thick, calloused finger down at the man under his boot. His voice wasn't a yell; it was a deep, seismic rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very pavement beneath their feet.
"He belongs here," the titan said, gesturing to Jamal.
Then, his eyes narrowed, staring holes through the ICE officer.
"You don't."
The street was dead silent for a heartbeat. And then, the crowd erupted. Not in chaos, but in a collective roar of agreement. The titan stood his ground, a guardian of the neighborhood, as Jamal finally caught his breath, realizing that in this city, monsters might wear badges, but giants walked the streets to keep them in check.