Chapter 1: The Weight of Dreams.
The morning sun cast long shadows across Musutafu Middle School's courtyard, where students gathered in clusters, their conversations punctuated by displays of their unique Quirks. A boy with flame-tipped fingers casually lit his friend's cigarette, while a girl nearby made small flowers bloom from her palms to impress her admirers. The air buzzed with the casual exhibition of superhuman abilities that had become as natural as breathing in this world.
Ben Tennyson sat alone on a bench near the school's entrance, his green eyes fixed on the acceptance letter in his trembling hands. The official U.A. High School logo stared back at him, but the words beneath it might as well have been a death sentence: "Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that your application has been denied. While your written examination scores were exemplary, the practical exam requires the demonstration of a Quirk..."
"Still dreaming about being a hero, Tennyson?"
The voice belonged to Katsuki Yamamoto, a broad-shouldered boy whose Quirk allowed him to generate explosive bubbles from his skin. Behind him stood his usual crew: Hiroshi, who could turn his limbs into metal, and Akira, whose shadow manipulation had earned him a spot at Shiketsu High School.
Ben folded the letter carefully, slipping it into his backpack. "Just reading some mail, Yamamoto. Nothing that concerns you."
Katsuki's laugh was harsh. "Oh, but it does concern me. See, I heard through the grapevine that you actually applied to U.A." He snatched the letter from Ben's bag before he could react. "No way... you actually thought they'd accept a Quirkless nobody?"
The gathered students began to form a circle, drawn by the commotion like moths to a flame. Ben felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he kept his voice steady. "Give it back, Katsuki."
"'While your written examination scores were exemplary...'" Katsuki read aloud in a mocking tone, causing snickers from the crowd. "'...the practical exam requires the demonstration of a Quirk.' Well, well, looks like reality finally caught up with our wannabe hero!"
Ben stood up, his fists clenched. Despite being shorter than Katsuki by several inches, there was a determination in his posture that made some students step back. "You've had your fun. Now give me my letter."
"Or what?" Hiroshi stepped forward, his arm transforming into gleaming steel. "You'll bore us to death with another speech about how anyone can be a hero?"
The crowd laughed, but their amusement was cut short by a new voice.
"That's enough."
Everyone turned to see Gwen Tennyson approaching, her auburn hair catching the morning light. She was Ben's cousin and one of the few students who'd never mocked his Quirkless status—partly because her own Quirk, energy manipulation, made her one of the school's most respected students.
"Oh look," Akira sneered, his shadow stretching toward Ben's feet. "The princess comes to save her pet."
Gwen's eyes flashed dangerously. "I said that's enough. Katsuki, return Ben's property, or I'll make you."
"You think I'm scared of your light show?" Katsuki's skin began to glisten as his Quirk activated, tiny bubbles forming on his palms. "Maybe you need a reminder of why I'm going to Ketsubutsu Academy while your cousin here will be... what? A convenience store clerk?"
Before the situation could escalate further, a sharp whistle pierced the air. Vice Principal Shimizu approached, his stern expression enough to scatter most of the crowd.
"Mr. Yamamoto, Ms. Tennyson, disperse immediately. Mr. Ben Tennyson, my office. Now."
As the students reluctantly moved away, Katsuki tossed the crumpled letter at Ben's feet. "Face it, Tennyson. Heroes save people. What can someone like you save?"
Ben picked up his letter, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could. Gwen placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Don't let them get to you, Ben. You're worth ten of them."
"Am I though?" Ben's voice was barely a whisper. "Maybe everyone's right. Maybe I should just... give up."
"Ben Tennyson, giving up? That doesn't sound like the cousin who spent three years building that robot just to prove he could contribute to the rescue training exercises."
Despite everything, Ben managed a small smile. "Servo-Bot Mark III did pretty well, didn't he?"
"Until he malfunctioned and accidentally proposed to Ms. Yamada," Gwen laughed. "Come on, we should get to class. And Ben? Don't let anyone tell you that dreams have size limits."
The rest of the school day passed in a blur of barely-contained whispers and pointed stares. Ben's rejection from U.A. had spread through the school like wildfire, and by lunch, even the teachers were giving him pitying looks.
In Hero Studies class, their teacher Mr. Sasaki was discussing recent Pro Hero statistics when he decided to make an example.
"As you can see from these charts, the success rate of heroes has increased by 300% over the past decade. This is primarily due to better training programs that focus on Quirk development and combat applications." His eyes found Ben in the back row. "Of course, this also means that the hero industry has become increasingly competitive. Only those with strong Quirks and unwavering determination can hope to succeed."
Ben sank lower in his seat as several students turned to look at him. Yuki Nakamura, a girl with a healing Quirk, leaned over and whispered, "I'm sorry about U.A., Ben. Have you considered other career paths? My mom says the tech industry is always looking for smart people."
"Thanks, Yuki," Ben replied, though her kindness somehow made him feel worse. Even the sympathy felt like another reminder of his limitations.
After school, Ben took his usual route home through Takoba Municipal Beach Park. The once-beautiful coastline had become a dumping ground for broken appliances and debris, but Ben found it peaceful. There were no crowds here to judge him, no constant reminders of what he couldn't do.
He sat on a rusted car hood, pulling out his notebook—filled with hero costume designs, rescue scenarios, and detailed analyses of Pro Hero techniques. For three years, he'd documented everything, believing that knowledge could somehow bridge the gap that his missing Quirk had created.
"All Might," he murmured, looking at a sketch he'd made of the Symbol of Peace. "You always said that anyone could be a hero with enough determination. But what if determination isn't enough?"
The setting sun painted the sky in brilliant oranges and purples, and for a moment, Ben allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to soar through those clouds, to be the one people looked up to when danger threatened. The fantasy was so vivid he could almost feel the wind beneath him...
A strange sound interrupted his reverie—a high-pitched whining that seemed to come from above. Ben looked up and saw what appeared to be a shooting star, except it was growing larger and brighter by the second.
"That's not a star," he breathed, scrambling to his feet. "It's coming straight down!"
The object—clearly some kind of spacecraft—streaked overhead and crashed into the beach about fifty meters away, sending up a shower of sand and debris. Ben didn't hesitate; his hero instincts overrode any concern for his safety as he sprinted toward the crash site.
The spacecraft was unlike anything he'd ever seen, roughly spherical with strange geometric patterns etched into its surface. As he approached, the craft suddenly split open like a flower, revealing something that would change his life forever.
Nestled in the center was a device that looked almost like a watch, but far more sophisticated. It was primarily black and white, with a green hourglass symbol in the center that pulsed with an inner light.
"What is this thing?" Ben whispered, kneeling beside the craft. The device seemed to call to him, and almost without thinking, he reached out to touch it.
The moment his fingers made contact, the watch-like device sprang to life, mechanical components unfolding and reshaping themselves as it attached to his left wrist. Ben yelped and tried to pull it off, but it had already sealed itself in place.
"No, no, no! Get off!" He pulled and twisted, but the device wouldn't budge. Panic set in as he realized he was stuck with some kind of alien technology. "This is not happening. This is definitely not happening."
As if responding to his distress, the green hourglass began to glow brighter, and suddenly Ben's mind was flooded with information. Images of alien worlds, creatures beyond imagination, and heroes defending the universe flashed through his consciousness.
When the visions ended, Ben found himself staring at the device with new understanding. Somehow, impossibly, he knew what it was.
"The Omnitrix," he whispered. "A device that contains the genetic templates of thousands of alien species, each with their own unique abilities."
He looked around the empty beach, then back at the device. His thumb hovered over the activation dial.
"After fifteen years of being powerless..." He pressed down.
The Omnitrix's face plate popped up, revealing a hologram of a humanoid figure wreathed in flames. Other silhouettes rotated around the central display—some familiar from his newfound knowledge, others completely alien.
Ben's heart raced as he realized what this meant. He wasn't Quirkless anymore. He wasn't powerless. He was something entirely new.
"I'm going to be a hero," he said, his voice filled with wonder and determination. "I'm finally going to be a hero."
Thunder rumbled overhead as dark clouds began to gather, but Ben barely noticed. He was too busy staring at the device that had just transformed him from the school's biggest failure into something that might just save the world.