I stood there, claws half-out, heart thumping just a little faster than I'd like to admit.
"So," I said, breaking the tension, "what's your deal?"
Midas tilted his head, amused, like I was a curious insect that had learned how to talk.
"Why this school?" I continued. "Out of all places. Don't tell me this is some edgy symbolism thing. Because honestly? Overdone."
For a moment, he didn't answer.
Then he smiled.
"We need fresh blood," Midas said calmly. "New believers. New soldiers."
The words sent a chill through the room.
"Kids?" I asked, voice dropping just a bit. "You're recruiting kids?"
"Shaping," he corrected. "Fear accelerates growth. Trauma creates loyalty. Survivors become fanatics."
Around us, students stiffened. Some trembled. Others clenched their fists.
I let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's… impressively disgusting."
Orochi chuckled. "You should feel honored. Being chosen is rare."
I laughed—short, sharp, humorless.
"Oh no," I said. "See, that's where you messed up."
Midas raised an eyebrow.
"You picked the wrong audience."
I took a step forward. The floor cracked beneath my foot.
"Because these people?" I gestured behind me—at Silvia, Jin, Noah, at the terrified students huddled together. "They're not joining your cult."
The air around me tightened.
"They're about to become your biggest mistake."
Midas studied me, eyes sharp now, smile thinning.
"…You speak as if you're already something greater," he said. "Yet you're just a boy."
I grinned.
"Yeah," I replied. "That's what everyone keeps thinking."
Outside, the sound grew louder.
Sirens.
Sonic booms.
Heroes closing in.
Midas glanced toward the ceiling once more, then back at me.
"Interesting," he said softly. "Perhaps we recruit you instead."
I laughed.
Hard.
"Oh, trust me," I said. "You really don't want me on your team."
Because if belief was a weapon—
Then right now, everyone in this room was starting to believe in me.
Midas smiled.
Not wide. Not cruel.
Curious.
"Before we go," he said lightly, "let me have a little fun."
The air warped.
He was gone.
No flash. No sound. No warning.
Every instinct I had went ballistic.
[Move—NOW.]
Midas reappeared right in front of me.
Too close.
His arm was already swinging, and in his hand—that same black hole. The spatial wound screamed as it moved, reality peeling back like wet paper.
RRRIIIIIP—
The space between us tore apart.
The path his hand passed through didn't just crack—it ceased to exist, leaving behind jagged nothingness that howled like it was angry at being born.
I twisted hard, barely managing to avoid the full hit.
Barely.
The edge clipped my shoulder.
Pain unlike anything I'd felt exploded through my body.
Not burning.
Not stabbing.
Erasing.
I screamed as flesh vanished, regeneration lagging like it couldn't figure out what had been taken.
Students screamed with me.
I crashed into the far wall, coughing, rolling across the floor as the wound struggled to close.
[What the hell—?!]
My regeneration kicked in seconds later—slow, hesitant, as if even it was afraid of touching what remained.
Midas stood where he was, arm lowered, watching with open fascination.
"Oh?" he murmured. "You survived."
I staggered to my feet, clutching my shoulder, blood dripping between my fingers.
"Yeah," I rasped. "Congrats. You almost killed a minor. Want a medal?"
He chuckled.
"That wasn't an attack," Midas said. "That was a greeting."
The black hole in his hand folded in on itself and vanished.
Orochi snapped his fingers sharply. "Enough. Heroes are seconds away."
Midas glanced toward the ceiling, listening to the approaching sonic booms.
"…Pity," he said. "I wanted to see how far you could go."
His gaze locked onto mine.
"Grow stronger," he said softly. "When we meet again, don't disappoint me."
Then—
The space behind him tore open once more.
Midas stepped backward into nothing.
Orochi and the remaining villains followed, vanishing one by one as the distortion sealed itself shut.
Silence slammed down.
I stood there, breathing hard, shoulder finally finishing its regeneration.
My knees shook.
Not from fear.
From excitement.
[Yeah…] I thought, grinning despite the blood on my face.
[That guy's trouble.]
And trouble, unfortunately—
Was exactly my type.
The ceiling exploded.
No—opened.
Figures dropped in from above, smashing through windows, walls, and emergency entrances like a damn action movie montage.
Heroes.
Lots of them.
Caped, armored, glowing, flying, stomping—every flavor of "publicly approved violence" poured into the assembly hall.
"TARGETS SECURED!"
"MEDICAL, MOVE!"
"STUDENTS DOWN—PROTECT THE CIVILIANS!"
Blue and red lights washed over everything. Barriers snapped into place. Drones hovered. Guns—non-lethal, allegedly—tracked every moving shadow.
I raised both hands immediately.
"Whoa, whoa," I said. "Friendly neighborhood not-the-bad-guy here."
No one listened.
Energy restraints slammed around my wrists and ankles, locking tight before I could blink.
"HEY—" I protested. "At least buy me dinner first!"
Silvia, Jin, and Noah were already surrounded too, though much more gently. Medics checked them while heroes stood guard.
Me?
I got six guns to the face.
Figures.
A man in a high-ranking uniform stepped forward, voice amplified.
"Unregistered individual," he said coldly. "You are to cease all resistance."
I looked down at the cuffs.
"…I wasn't resisting?"
They dragged us out.
Cameras were everywhere.
Students crying. Parents screaming. Reporters shouting questions like vultures.
"What's your name?"
"Are you working with Noir?"
"Is this another Church operation?"
I kept my head down.
Not because I was scared.
Because smiling right now would be a bad idea.
—
We were separated.
Interrogation rooms. White walls. One-way glass.
I sat alone, cuffs finally removed but a suppression field humming around me, making my skin crawl.
A woman entered—sharp eyes, sharp suit, hero insignia pinned neatly to her chest.
She didn't sit.
"Kade," she said. "E-class. No combat record. No hero license."
She tapped her tablet.
"And yet you fought multiple ranked villains and survived an encounter with Midas."
She looked up.
"How?"
I leaned back in my chair and shrugged.
"Adrenaline?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"This is not a joke."
I smiled weakly.
"Could've fooled me. Whole day felt like a sitcom."
Silence.
She closed the tablet.
"Until we determine whether you are a threat," she said, "you are under Hero Association custody."
I nodded slowly.
[Perfect.]
Because being inside the system—
Was exactly where I wanted to be.
"Look," I said, leaning forward, trying my best innocent student smile, "I'm not registered because I'm still underage. I'm literally studying at the hero academy."
The woman—definitely a supercop, no way around it—didn't blink.
Her stare felt like it could peel skin.
"Age doesn't explain performance," she said flatly. "You engaged multiple ranked villains. You showed enhanced strength, regeneration, and improvised combat awareness."
She stepped closer, resting both hands on the table.
"Explain that."
I scratched the back of my head.
"Uh… late bloomer?" I offered. "Puberty hits people different?"
Silence.
Her eyebrow twitched.
"You expect me to believe you awakened all of that today?"
I shrugged. "I mean, I almost died. Kinda forces things out, right?"
She studied me for a long moment, eyes flicking to the medical report on her tablet.
"…Your injuries regenerated abnormally fast," she said. "Faster than recorded regen-types at your age."
"Fast metabolism?" I said. "I eat a lot."
That one actually earned me a look—half disbelief, half irritation.
She straightened, exhaling through her nose.
"You're either lying," she said, "or you're an anomaly."
I smiled nervously. "Can I be both?"
She ignored that.
"Regardless," she continued, "you acted without authorization, endangered yourself and others, and interfered in an active villain operation."
I opened my mouth.
She raised a finger.
"But," she added, tone shifting slightly, "you also saved lives."
She looked me dead in the eye.
"That's the only reason you're not in a containment cell right now."
I swallowed.
[Yeah… good call not smiling.]
She turned toward the door.
"For now," she said, "you are to remain under observation. No hero activity. No vigilantism. No exceptions."
She paused.
"And Kade?"
I looked up.
"If you're lying to me," she said quietly, "I will find out."
The door closed behind her.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath.
[Late bloomer, huh…] I thought, lips twitching.
[Guess I better grow fast.]
The door slid open again.
This time, the air felt… heavier.
A man in his mid-forties walked in, tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly pressed suit that somehow still looked like armor on him. Every step was measured, confident. The kind of presence that didn't need to raise its voice to be obeyed.
He sat down across from me and folded his hands neatly on the table.
"Major Williams," he said. "Vice President of the Hero Association."
I tilted my head, eyeing him up and down.
"Wait," I said. "Are you a real Major… or did you just give yourself that name?"
For the first time since I'd arrived, someone smiled.
Just a little.
"A lot of people ask that," Williams replied calmly. "It's a military rank I earned long before I became a hero."
"Ah," I nodded. "So not a self-assigned edgy title. Respect."
He chuckled once, then his expression hardened again.
"Rank ninth," he continued. "Ability: Absolute Hardening. I can turn my body into an impenetrable wall."
He tapped the table lightly.
The metal dented.
I blinked.
"…Okay yeah, that tracks."
Williams leaned forward slightly.
"Kade," he said, voice steady, "you know why I'm here."
"Because I'm adorable?" I offered.
"No," he said flatly. "Because you survived Midas."
That wiped the grin off my face.
"You understand how rare that is?" he continued. "Full-fledged heroes don't walk away from him."
I shrugged, carefully.
"Guess I got lucky."
Williams studied me for a long moment, eyes sharp, experienced—eyes that had seen real war, not televised heroics.
"Luck doesn't explain instinct," he said. "You moved before the attack completed. You adapted mid-fight. You coordinated civilians without issuing a single order."
He leaned back.
"You fought like someone who's done this before."
My heart skipped.
[Careful.]
"So?" I said. "Some people are just built different."
Williams' gaze didn't waver.
"Then answer me this," he said. "When Midas attacked—why didn't you run?"
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
"…Because someone had to stall," I said finally. "And everyone else was worse at it than me."
Silence stretched between us.
Then Williams nodded once.
"A bad answer," he said. "But an honest one."
He stood.
"Kade," he said, turning toward the door, "you're not a villain."
I exhaled.
"But," he added, pausing, "you're also not normal."
He looked back over his shoulder.
"And right now… that makes you dangerous."
The door closed.
I slumped in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
[Rank nine, huh…]
[…Yeah. They're starting to look a little too closely.]
I leaned back in the chair after Williams left, staring at the blank white ceiling.
[…Okay. That was too flashy.]
I got carried away. New powers. New toys. Real enemies. I'd treated it like a crossover event instead of reality.
[Rule one of villain—or hero—work:]
[Don't attract this much attention this fast.]
Better to lay low.
Way lower.
Five hours passed.
Interrogations ended. Statements were taken. Medical checks repeated. Paperwork stacked higher than common sense.
One by one, they let us go.
Silvia, Jin, and Noah were released first—wrapped in blankets, praised quietly, already being whispered about as "awakening talents." Cameras followed them. Reporters screamed questions.
Me?
I slipped out the side entrance.
No cheers. No cameras.
Perfect.
I told the Association I was suffering from severe mental trauma—shock, stress, emotional instability, the whole package. They didn't argue. After today, they were practically begging me to stay inactive.
I called the school next.
Only to find out it didn't matter.
The academy was shut down indefinitely.
Structural damage. Psychological evaluation. Hero Association jurisdiction.
"…Great," I muttered, hanging up.
So much for keeping a routine.
Days passed.
I stayed inside my rundown apartment, curtains drawn, noise low. Noir and Hyperman still clashed occasionally on the news—city blocks shaking, skies splitting, belief rising steadily.
I didn't interfere.
Didn't escalate.
Didn't push.
Just watched.
Rested.
Waited.
Something felt… off.
Like the world was holding its breath.
I didn't know it yet—
But change was already coming.
And when it did?
Laying low wouldn't save anyone.
After the incident, things didn't go back to normal.
They couldn't.
Silvia, Jin, and Noah stuck together after that day—like survivors of the same disaster naturally do. People started calling them a team before they ever agreed to be one.
A new clique.
A super group.
They invited me too.
Not officially—no dramatic handshake or oath—but I ended up hanging around anyway. To them, I was the guy who'd been there when things went to hell.
To me?
It was… a pastime.
Silvia trained obsessively, pushing her ice further every week. With her family's resources backing her, her control sharpened fast—temperature precision, structural reinforcement, even micro-freezing techniques.
Jin treated everything like a competition.
Against heroes on TV. Against records. Against me.
Every spar ended with him glaring, sweating, and demanding another round. His burst movement got cleaner, sharper, less wasteful.
They were growing.
Fast.
Noah was different.
Her power wasn't about growth—it was about control.
Her berserker transformations used to be messy, painful, overwhelming. I helped her refine it—breathing techniques, mental anchors, partial transformations instead of full ones.
She stopped losing herself.
Stopped being afraid of her own strength.
Talents like that were rare.
Diamonds still wrapped in stone.
A month passed.
School reopened.
We returned to the academy under tighter security, reinforced walls, and Hero Association oversight that pretended not to be surveillance.
On the first day back, the announcement dropped.
"All students, please report to the main hall."
The principal stood stiffly on stage, flanked by banners I'd never seen before.
"The Penta Academy Tournament," he announced, voice echoing, "will commence in two months."
Murmurs exploded.
"The top five hero academies will compete," he continued, "to determine strength, prestige, and rank among institutions."
Honor.
Power.
Public validation.
I leaned back in my seat, hands behind my head.
[…Of course they'd do this now.]
Silvia's eyes burned with excitement.
Jin cracked his knuckles.
Noah swallowed nervously—but didn't look away.
As for me?
I smiled.
Not because I wanted to win.
But because tournaments were where stories exploded.
And I had a feeling—
This one wouldn't stay clean for long.