The wooden door creaked as Dirk stepped outside.
Fresh air slammed into his lungs, crisp and sharp like ice water. He froze at the sensation, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. Every particle of oxygen felt alive, supercharging his blood. His senses were sharper now—he could smell pine sap bleeding from nearby trees, hear the faint rustle of a squirrel a hundred yards away, even feel the heartbeat of a bird taking flight.
"...Damn," Dirk muttered, opening his eyes. "This body isn't just strong—it's alive."
He stretched, rolling his shoulders, and the blazer strained against his frame. He pulled it off and tossed it onto the porch rail. His muscles flexed beneath the fitted shirt, veins thrumming like cables of energy.
The forest stretched around him, endless green with shafts of sunlight piercing through leaves. For a moment, he simply stood there, overwhelmed. This wasn't a screen. This was real. He could touch it, taste it, conquer it.
A grin tugged at his lips. "Alright. Let's see what this Viltrumite body can do."
---
Strength
Dirk scanned the clearing until he spotted a boulder half-buried in the soil. It was massive, easily the size of a small car, moss clinging to its surface.
He strode toward it, every step steady, purposeful. Placing his hands against the cold stone, he bent his knees and lifted.
The ground trembled. Roots snapped. Dirt spilled like water.
With a grunt, Dirk hoisted the entire boulder above his head. His arms bulged, veins pulsing, but the strain was minimal—like lifting a gym weight rather than tons of rock.
He laughed, tilting his head back. "I used to struggle carrying groceries… now I'm casually lifting a car."
Just for fun, he hurled the boulder into the distance. It soared like a cannonball, smashing through trees before disappearing with a thunderous crash. Birds erupted from the canopy, panicked wings scattering into the sky.
Dirk dusted off his hands. "Yeah… strength checks out."
---
Speed
He crouched low, the forest floor crunching beneath his feet.
What if I just… run?
The moment he pushed off, the world blurred. Trees whipped past in streaks of green and brown. The wind roared against his ears. His body moved instinctively, weaving between trunks at a speed that should have been impossible.
In seconds, he covered what would have taken minutes. He skidded to a halt, dirt exploding behind him, and blinked in shock.
"…I wasn't even trying."
His heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but exhilaration.
---
Flight
Dirk stared up at the sky. The blue stretched endlessly, clouds drifting lazily. He clenched his fists.
"…Okay. Let's try this properly."
He bent his knees and launched upward. The earth cracked under the force, chunks of dirt spraying outward as his body shot into the air. The wind tore at his shirt, his ears ringing with the sheer velocity.
Then—silence.
He hovered above the treetops, weightless, the world sprawling beneath him like a painting. The academy in the distance, forests rolling endlessly, mountains jagged on the horizon.
Dirk floated higher, testing balance, tilting forward. His body adjusted naturally, wings without wings. He dipped, soared, looped, then steadied, grinning like a madman.
"This… this is freedom."
---
Durability
On impulse, Dirk clenched his fist and slammed it into his own chest. The sound was like striking steel. He felt nothing. Not even a bruise.
Curious, he eyed a jagged stone peak nearby. He shot toward it and drove his shoulder into the rock. The cliffside exploded, shards raining down as his body punched clean through. Dust billowed around him, but his skin was untouched.
Dirk stood amidst the rubble, brushing stone fragments off his shirt.
"…Invincible. Literally."
A rush of pride swelled in his chest, followed quickly by something heavier. Responsibility. With this kind of power, he could level mountains. He could kill without meaning to.
I have to control it.
He exhaled, steadying himself.
---
Reflection
Dirk sat on a fallen log, staring at his hands.
"From a nobody… to this." His voice was quiet. "ROB wasn't kidding. I have everything I ever wanted."
He remembered his old life—the loneliness, the wasted nights, the ache of never belonging. The world had never noticed him. But here? Here, he could change everything.
He clenched his fists.
"This isn't just about power. It's about… living. Actually living."
For the first time, Dirk Sanchez didn't feel like a background character in his own story.
He was the story.
And tomorrow, he would step into Nevermore Academy—not as a loner, not as a binge-watcher, but as a force destined to shake the world.