The shriek of twisting metal was the city's new anthem. Concrete dust, thick and chalky, rained down from the sky, coating everything in a layer of gray. At the heart of the chaos, the villain known as Cataclysm stood thirty feet tall, his body a grotesque amalgamation of rebar, asphalt, and shattered brick. With every step, the street buckled.
"Is that all you so-called 'heroes' have got?" his voice boomed, a gravelly echo amplified by the canyon of skyscrapers. "A little light show? Pathetic!"
He swatted a bus-sized chunk of road at a shimmering, golden barrier. The projectile dissolved into pebbles upon impact. On the other side stood Aegis, the nation's number one hero, his jaw set, his costume immaculate despite the debris storm.
"Your rampage ends here, Cataclysm," Aegis's voice was calm, a stark contrast to the surrounding destruction. It carried an authority that soothed the roaring crowd gathered behind police lines.
On a nearby rooftop, a news anchor shouted into her floating drone-cam. "It's an incredible scene! Aegis Prime holds the line while the high-speed hero, Velocity, evacuates the stragglers! This is power! This is what it means to be a hero in our great nation!"
The crowd below erupted. Phones were held high, recording every second.
"Velocity is so fast! Did you see him zip through that collapsing office building?" a teenager yelled, his face painted with the hero's lightning-bolt insignia.
His friend scoffed, pointing at the sky where a woman wreathed in blue flames descended like a meteor. "Forget Velocity! Here comes Inferno! She's gonna turn that rock-head into glass!"
Inferno hovered, her hands blazing. "Getting slow in your old age, Aegis?" she quipped, a smirk playing on her lips.
Aegis didn't turn. "Just giving you a chance to catch up, kid."
From the back of the throng, a young boy with wide, hopeful eyes strained to see over the adults. His name was Kael. He clutched the worn strap of his backpack, his knuckles white. To him, this wasn't just a fight; it was a symphony. The heroes weren't just people; they were gods walking among mortals.
"This is it," Kael thought, his heart pounding in his chest. "This is what it means to be strong. To protect people. To be… someone."
Cataclysm roared, ripping a lamppost from the ground and swinging it like a club. Inferno unleashed a torrent of azure fire, melting it mid-swing. The crowd roared its approval, a wave of pure adoration. They weren't scared. This was the ultimate entertainment, the pinnacle of their society.
A man beside Kael clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "See that, champ? That's what real power looks like. Study hard, train hard, and maybe one day you'll have a shot at the Academy."
The heroes struck a final, coordinated blow. Aegis dropped his barrier, Velocity created a sonic boom that cracked the villain's rocky hide, and Inferno channeled her fire into a piercing lance of heat. Cataclysm crumbled, his form dissolving back into a man buried under rubble.
Victory.
The heroes stood together, silhouetted against the dust and smoke. Aegis gave a firm nod to the cameras. Velocity gave a two-fingered salute. Inferno blew a kiss made of harmless, flickering embers. The cheers were deafening, a tidal wave of worship for the powerful. Kael felt a single, burning thought eclipse everything else in his mind.
"I want that. I want to be one of them."
—--
The classroom buzzed with the energy of the fight, the final victorious pose of the heroes still glowing on the massive holographic screen at the front of the room.
"Did you see Inferno's final blast? Total annihilation!" a student named Kenji exclaimed, slamming his hand on his desk.
Rina, a girl with an Evolve ability that let her change her hair color at will, flicked her now-crimson ponytail. "Aegis is the real MVP. That barrier didn't even get a scratch. He's all about pure, refined power. Not just flashy fire."
"Flashy? She's the number three hero! What's your power again, Rina? Mood-ring hair?"
The class laughed. Their teacher, Mr. Aris, a tired-looking man with the minor ability to perfectly stack any objects, simply sighed and let them talk. Post-battle analysis was practically part of the curriculum.
Kael sat in the back, silent, replaying the fight in his head. The awe was still fresh, a warmth spreading through his chest.
Kenji noticed him. "Hey, Kael. Pretty amazing, huh? Bet you wish you could do something like that." His tone was laced with a familiar, mocking edge. "What would you even do? Make the villain's shoelaces glow?"
A few snickers rippled through the nearby desks. Kael's face flushed. His Evolve ability was… subtle. He could make small objects emit a faint, dim light. A pen. A coin. A shoelace. It was utterly useless.
"It's not about being the strongest," Kael mumbled, looking down at his desk. "It's about helping people. That's what being a hero means."
Rina rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, give me a break. You can't help anyone if you're weak. A villain would laugh you out of the city. You need real talent, like Ren."
The name hung in the air. Ren. The golden boy of their school. His Evolve, 'Kinetic Charge,' allowed him to absorb and redirect energy. He was powerful, handsome, and already had scouts from the Hero Academy watching him.
"Yeah, Ren would've taken that guy down in half the time," Kenji added, puffing out his chest as if Ren's glory was his own. "He's a real hero in the making. Not… a nightlight."
The laughter was louder this time. Kael clenched his fists under his desk, his fingernails digging into his palms. The warmth in his chest turned to a cold, sinking stone.
"Why? Why can't they see? It's not about the power itself… it's what you do with it."
He looked up, his voice a little stronger. "My ability could be useful for search and rescue! In the dark! To find people!"
Mr. Aris finally intervened, his voice flat and devoid of inspiration. "Kael, while that's a noble thought, the heroics field is for those with abilities suited to… well, heroics. Combat, defense, high-level support. Search and rescue teams have high-lumen flashlights." He picked up a stray datapad and it floated neatly onto a perfect stack on his desk. "Perhaps you should focus on a more realistic career path."
The final bell screamed, saving Kael from having to respond. The class erupted, students grabbing their bags. The conversation had already moved on.
"Did you see the line for the new Aegis action figure?"
"I heard Ren already pre-ordered the deluxe version."
As Kael packed his bag, the teacher's words echoed in his mind, colder and sharper than any insult from his classmates.
"Not cut out for heroics."
—--
The gleaming towers of the city center were a distant dream from Kael's neighborhood. Here, the buildings were shorter, huddled together with rust-streaked fire escapes and faded brickwork. The glamour of the hero world didn't quite reach these streets.
Kael's apartment was on the fourth floor of a walk-up. He walked in to find his mother, Elara, hunched over a pile of clothes, a needle and thread in her hand. Her Evolve was as modest as his: she could sense the structural weaknesses in fabric, making her an impeccable seamstress. It paid just enough to keep them afloat.
"You're home late," she said, not looking up. Her voice was tired. "Did you stay to watch the battle coverage again?"
"They stopped Cataclysm," Kael said, dropping his bag by the door. "It was amazing, Mom. Inferno's flames were…"
"Amazing," she finished for him, her voice flat. She held up a shirt with a torn sleeve. "This is the third time Mr. Gable has ripped this. His son's Evolve… spontaneous muscle growth. You'd think they'd buy clothes that can handle it." She sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of unpaid bills and a leaky faucet. "Kael, hero-worship doesn't put food on the table."
"I know that," he wanted to say. "But it gives me something to believe in." Instead, he just nodded.
"I'll get started on my chores."
He spent the next hour fixing a squeaky cabinet hinge and scrubbing the grime from the window panes. His power was useless here, too. A soft glow wouldn't tighten a screw or clean glass. He was just Kael, a boy with weak hands and an even weaker ability.
Later, his mom sent him out for groceries. As he walked down the street, a group of kids from the neighborhood saw him.
"Hey, it's Glow-worm!" one of them shouted. "Gonna light the way for us, hero?"
Kael kept his head down, his pace quickening. Their jeers followed him like a shadow. He didn't understand why his dream was so funny to everyone. Was it really so strange to want to help?
He turned a corner and stopped dead. There, plastered on the side of a building, was a massive, glossy poster. It depicted the grand entrance of the National Hero Academy, the most prestigious school in the world. Its motto was emblazoned in gold letters beneath the image: "Forge Your Power. Define Your Future."
Students in pristine uniforms were shown on the steps, all of them radiating confidence. One of them, at the very front, looked uncannily like Ren. Powerful. Admired. Destined for greatness.
Kael just stared, the worn grocery bag digging into his fingers. The Academy was a palace in another universe. A universe he wasn't allowed to enter. The gap between his reality and his dream had never felt so vast, so utterly impossible to cross. He could almost hear Mr. Aris's voice again.
"A more realistic career path."
The words were a slap in the face.
—--
The sun had set by the time Kael finished his errands, casting the narrow alleyways of his neighborhood into deep shadow. He took a shortcut he always used, a tight path between a laundromat and a noodle shop. The air was thick with the smell of steamed buns and detergent.
That's when he heard it. A whimper, followed by a low, threatening voice.
"I said, empty your pockets. Now."
Kael froze, pressing himself against the cool brick wall. He peered around the corner. A hulking man had a much smaller, elderly man pinned against the wall. The thug's Evolve was obvious—his fists were coated in a layer of what looked like jagged, rough stone.
"I… I don't have anything," the old man stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "Please, just let me go."
"Liar!" the thug snarled, raising a rocky fist.
Kael's blood ran cold. "No heroes here. No cameras. No one to save him." His mind screamed at him to run, to find a cop, to scream for help. It was the logical thing to do. The safe thing to do.
But his feet didn't move. He saw the terror in the old man's eyes, and something inside him snapped. It wasn't a decision. It was an instinct.
"I have to do something."
He took a deep breath and stepped out from the corner. "Hey! Leave him alone!" His voice cracked, sounding embarrassingly thin.
The thug turned, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. "Oh? And who's this? A little hero boy come to save the day?" He looked Kael up and down, at his worn clothes and scrawny frame, and laughed. "What are you gonna do, kid? Hit me with your textbook?"
Fear was a physical thing, a cold knot in Kael's stomach. But the old man's terrified face was burned into his vision. He had to buy him time.
"Think. What can I do? My power… it's useless, but… maybe…"
He focused, pushing every ounce of his will into his ability. He didn't target the thug. He targeted the environment. A discarded soda can on the ground suddenly began to glow with a soft, pulsing light. Then a puddle of grimy water shimmered. Then the metal lid of a trash can.
The alley was filled with a dozen points of faint, eerie light. It wasn't bright, but it was distracting.
The thug blinked, momentarily confused. "What is this? Some kind of light trick?"
"The police are on their way," Kael bluffed, his voice shaking but firm. "They were called about a disturbance here."
It was a weak lie, but the strange lights and the mention of police made the thug hesitate. In that split second of uncertainty, the old man shoved past him and scrambled away down the alley.
The thug roared in frustration. "You little brat!" He turned back to Kael, his stone fists raised. "You're gonna pay for that!"
Kael stumbled backward, his heart hammering against his ribs. This was it. He was going to get pulverized. But he had done it. He had helped.
Suddenly, a gruff voice echoed from the mouth of the alley. "Hey! What's going on here?"
It was a passerby, a large man carrying a toolbox. The thug cursed under his breath, gave Kael one last hateful glare, and then bolted, disappearing into the darkness at the other end of the alley.
Kael slumped against the wall, his legs trembling. He had done it. He had faced a villain and won. Sort of.
The old man rushed back to him, bowing deeply. "Thank you, young man. Thank you. You saved me."
A flicker of pride ignited in Kael's chest. It was warm, real, and more satisfying than any cheering crowd.
But as the man with the toolbox walked past, he glanced at the faintly glowing trash can lid and scoffed. "A light trick? Kid, that's not hero work. You got lucky. Leave the real heroics to the ones who can actually fight."
—--
The door to the rooftop was old and rusted, and it groaned in protest as Kael pushed it open. He stepped out into the cool night air, the endless city lights sprawling before him like a galaxy of fallen stars. This was his sanctuary, the one place where no one could see him, where no one could judge.
He walked to the ledge, the wind whipping his hair around his face. Below, the city hummed with life, a world of power and ambition that felt a million miles away.
Today had been a perfect storm of failure. He replayed each moment in his mind, each word a fresh sting.
"What would you even do? Make the villain's shoelaces glow?"
Kenji's mocking face swam in his vision. The laughter of his classmates.
"Perhaps you should focus on a more realistic career path."
Mr. Aris's dismissive, pitying tone. The finality in his words, as if Kael's dream was a book he had just closed and shelved forever.
"Hero-worship doesn't put food on the table."
His mother's tired, worried face. The crushing weight of their poverty, a constant reminder of how far he had to climb.
"Leave the real heroics to the ones who can actually fight."
The final, casual dismissal from the stranger. Even when he had done something right, something brave, it was disregarded. His small victory, erased by a single sentence. All of it swirled in his head, a vortex of humiliation and doubt.
"Maybe they're right," a voice whispered in the back of his mind. A cold, insidious thought. "My power is a joke. I'm not strong. I'm not special. Who am I kidding? A hero?"
He looked down at his own hands, pale in the moonlight. He tried to summon his power, to make them glow, but nothing happened. The emotional turmoil was too much. He was empty.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut. Was this it? Was he supposed to just give up? Resign himself to a life of mediocrity, fixing cabinets and being mocked for a dream he was too weak to achieve?
No.
Something else rose through the despair. The memory of the old man's terrified face. The surge of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shadows. The brief, beautiful warmth of the man's gratitude.
"Thank you, young man. You saved me."
That was real. More real than any insult. It was proof. Proof that he could make a difference. It didn't matter if his power was weak. It didn't matter if he was scared. In that moment, when it counted, he had acted. He had been a hero.
His eyes snapped open, the tears gone, replaced by a fire that burned away the doubt. He looked out at the skyline, at the distant, gleaming spire of the National Hero Academy. It no longer seemed like an impossible palace. It was a mountain. A mountain he would have to climb.
He clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white. The wind howled around him, but he stood firm, a solitary figure against the vast, glittering city. He took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke the words aloud, a promise to the night, to the world, and most of all, to himself.
His voice was quiet, not much more than a whisper, but it was unbreakable.
"No matter what they say… I'll become a hero."
—--
End of Chapter 1