I didn't even have a name here yet. One moment, I was staring at my computer, critiquing Hero X, and the next, I was standing in the middle of a city street that was somehow real, somehow unreal.
Watching Hero X had been… disappointing. The plot had huge issues. Characters jumped around with no consistency, no real power-up development, only flashbacks and exposition shoved in between flashy fights. It claimed to be about heroes, but it was mostly about popularity, perception, and spectacle. I could see the logic, I could see the writing… but it made me itch. A real system like this, with people whose powers could actually shape the world, should reward creativity, endurance, and principle, not just fame.
I was still absorbing all of this when the first fight happened right in front of me. Buildings cracked. Debris flew. Civilians screamed. One of the so-called "heroes" was struggling, clearly outmatched by a villain with concept powers that weren't flashy, but brutally efficient.
And then I acted.
Not because I wanted recognition. Not yet. But because people were hurting, and I could do something. I helped them move, lift, and clear debris, anticipating danger before it landed, visualizing how I could store anything I picked up and take it out later.
As I worked, a strange feeling washed over me, a pull, almost like the system was registering my intent. I pictured myself as a hero, not for fame, but to help, to hold and retrieve anything, save anyone I could. Every time I lifted rubble, every time I ran a civilian to safety, I whispered to myself: I want to be a hero. I will carry anything. I will take out anything.
I this simple act, this visualization, was planting the seed. If the system rewarded pure intent paired with action, then maybe… just maybe, I could claim one of the more OP concept powers before anyone else even realized what was happening.
And that was when I realized the truth: in this world, being a hero wasn't about applause or trust points, it was about survival, creativity, and purpose.