"I was on my way home from school that day."
"I didn't know it then, but everything changed the moment I stepped on that alley."
The morning air was crisp, filled with chatter and footsteps as students crowded the streets.
Vendors called out, bicycles rattled by, and laughter echoed between the buildings.
But the boy barely noticed.
A history book rested open in his hands as he walked, eyes glued to its pages.
Its cover was worn, its edges frayed—a book retelling the story of the man people called Deathman.
---
"The air crackled with power. Surrounded on all sides—Affinities blazing with flame and wind, Triggers activating their power, Superhumans cracking their knuckles and preparing their weapons—the man stood alone."
The world burned around him.
The air split apart with streaks of light—missiles, energy bolts, and blades of wind slicing through the smoke.
A man with a flaming arm charged first.
"Burn with me, Deathman!"
Deathman raised his hand.
The fire dissolved before reaching him, snuffed out as if swallowed by the void itself.
The soldier screamed—his own flames turned inward, consuming him from within.
"Impossible!"
Another soldier leapt in, his feet breaking the ground with every step. His power surged—Gravity Affinity. He swung his hammer down, and the earth itself bent under its weight.
Deathman caught it with one hand.
The ground cracked, but he didn't flinch.
"Power without resolve is noise," he said softly.
A pulse erupted from his body—red energy tearing through the battlefield like a storm.
Trees splintered. Buildings crumbled. The soldiers screamed as their bodies were thrown back.
Still, they kept coming—fear in their eyes, but duty in their hearts.
The woman of steel was the last to move.
Her voice trembled, but her blade did not.
"For the world… I'll end you!"
Her arm morphed into a rotating steel edge, whirring faster and faster until the air screamed around her.
She spun forward, a blur of silver.
Deathman didn't move. Not until the final instant.
Then his hand shot forward, catching the blade mid-spin. Sparks flew.
"Too slow."
Her eyes widened—just as he twisted, sending her crashing into the dirt.
She coughed blood, trembling, watching the man who refused to die.
And then… she struck again, one last desperate swing—
"An Affinity, a woman whose body was a whirlwind of steel, slammed a fast-twirling metal blade into Deathman's skull. He collapsed. His body went still."
"It's over."
"He's dead."
For a moment, the battlefield was silent. Then—
"The man's lips twitched. He coughed once, his mouth filled with blood, and a word seemed to form, but it was lost in the wind. All anyone heard was a garbled whisper.
'D—… dea—… th… trig—…'
The blood that had spilled beneath him stirred. Slowly, it slithered upward, shaping into a forest of cruel crimson spikes. The enemies froze in horror.
And then—"
---
A hand clamped down on his shoulder and swept him aside.
"Hey."
It was a tall student with a fierce look—Kaito, the school bully. Behind him, a pack of others laughed.
"Watch where you're going. You really walk and read at the same time? You'll die early."
Kaito shoved him lightly, mocking.
The boy clutched his book tighter, lips pressed thin. He didn't answer.
"Pathetic." The bully scoffed and pushed past, leaving him in the middle of the school entrance.
The boy adjusted the book under his arm, opened it again, and continued walking as if nothing had happened.
---
The school bell rang, echoing through the halls.
The classroom buzzed with voices, footsteps, and the scratching of chalk.
He sat at his desk in the back. After some time, he opened the book once more.
The teacher's voice droned on at the front, but his mind had already slipped away—back into the story.
"Gunfire cracked across the battlefield.
An Affinity, a woman whose body was a whirlwind of steel, slammed a fast-twirling metal blade into Deathman's skull. He collapsed. His body went still.
'It's over.'
'He's dead.'
For a moment, the battlefield was silent. Then—
The man's lips twitched. He coughed once, his mouth filled with blood, and a word seemed to form, but it was lost in the wind. All anyone heard was a garbled whisper.
'D—… dea—… th… trig—…'
The blood that had spilled beneath him stirred. Slowly, it slithered upward, shaping into a forest of cruel crimson spikes. The enemies froze in horror.
And then—"
Smack!
A paper ball hit his forehead.
He jerked back in his chair. The classroom roared with laughter.
"Got him! Hah!" shouted the one who threw it.
The boy blinked, rubbing the spot, but said nothing. He simply lowered his head and continued reading.
---
Hours passed. The final bell rang.
Students rushed out, their laughter echoing down the halls.
He stayed, reading for a few more minutes until the classroom was empty.
Then he walked home alone, book in hand, still turning pages as he walked.
"That night was carved into history. Deathman, the man who slaughtered millions—Affinities, Triggers, the Enhanced—stood above the corpses. The world watched. Cameras flashed. Survivors wept. Only five men remained alive after the massacre, clinging to each other, bloodied and broken. The world rejoiced at their survival—but the shadow of Deathman never left them."
He had just finished the story, standing at a busy intersection, his eyes scanning a massive public screen broadcasting the news.
Bump.
His book slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground.
A purse—dropped, half-open, its contents scattered. He bent to pick it up.
He glanced up just as a flash of fabric vanished into the shadows of a nearby alley.
He hesitated. It had happened so fast. He ran after it, chasing the owner of the purse.
And then—he froze.
The girl dangled off the ground, her throat caught in the hand of a towering man.
His arm twisted unnaturally, reshaping into a jagged blade aimed for her chest.
"Wha—!?" The word caught in the boy's throat.
The girl's eyes widened at him. She struggled to breathe.
"R-run… away…!"
But his legs refused to move. His heart pounded. His mind spun.
A supernatural… He's one of them.
Should I run? Should I call for help?
The man's voice rumbled low, directed at the girl.
"You think you can escape us?"
The boy's hands shook. He fumbled for his phone, raising his voice.
"Let her go!"
The giant turned. His expression was cold, almost bored.
"You should've left. Maybe then you'd live."
The boy looked down. Blood spread across his shirt.
The man's arm had pierced through his chest. The blade retracted, leaving a gaping hole.
He collapsed to his knees, coughing red.
Is this it? Did I do the right thing? If I hadn't followed… would I still be alive?
If I had run, like she told me… would this be different?
His vision blurred.
Then—his chest throbbed.
The wound pulsed.
Inside his heart, in the darkness, something dormant stirred-chains coiled tight.
One link snapped.
An eye opened.
And in his skull, words began to shape—unclear, broken, but forming:
D—!!? De—!? T—!?
The girl clawed weakly at the giant's grip. Her vision dimmed—until she saw something.
The boy was standing again.
His wound had sealed. Blood poured out of him but did not fall.
It swirled, wrapping around his frame, hardening into armor that glistened like molten glass.
His eyes glowed—red and alive.
The giant sneered at the girl.
"See? You're just a Trigger now. Powerless. Fate abandoned you. And so—"
He never finished.
The boy's fist smashed forward, faster than thought.
Bang!
The giant exploded into pieces.
---
Far away, in a dark underground chamber, a glass of wine cracked in someone's grip.
"…He died."
Another voice stirred in the shadows.
"What do you mean, boss?"
The wine spilled,dark and heavy, like blood across the stone floor.
"We need to go"
"Yes, Boss!"
---
Back in the alley, the girl dropped from the giant's slack grip, unconscious.
The boy remained frozen, his fist extended, blood-armor clinging to him like a second skin.
His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. His eyes blazed in the night.
The hole in his chest was gone.
And the blood was returning to his body—like a living organism.
---End of Chapter 1---