Supernatural abilities—once nothing more than fantasies born from comic books, legends, and blockbuster movies. For centuries, humanity believed that power beyond human limits belonged only to imagination. The idea of flying across the sky with a single leap, transporting oneself thousands of kilometers in the blink of an eye, or peering into the memories of the past and the possibilities of the future… these were things we only dreamed of.
Abilities belonged to pages, not people.
To stories, not reality.
But times changed.
They changed on the day the world was swallowed by darkness.
It began with the disappearance of the sun—no scientific explanation, no warning. One morning, daylight simply never arrived. The sky turned a shade of endless black, so deep that even the stars were devoured. Darkness wasn't merely the absence of light; it felt alive, crawling over cities, suffocating every form of hope. Panic spread like wildfire. People screamed, cried, and prayed as the temperature dropped and the world drowned in terror.
Amid those darkest hours, when humanity had lost any expectation of rescue… something descended.
A single streak of golden radiance tore through the void. It pierced the sky like a spear of the heavens, blinding and magnificent. From within that brilliance stepped a man—tall, calm, and shining like he carried the sun itself upon his back. His name… the world would later carve into history as Solarius Tenma, the First Hero.
With one wave of his hand, the suffocating shadows shattered. The false night cracked apart like fragile glass and dissolved into nothingness. Light returned, warm and vibrant, painting the earth in gold once more. And with it, something else awakened.
Power.
Abilities sprouted among people across the globe. Strength that could crumble mountains. Speed that defied physics. Flames that danced on fingertips. Energies humanity had never known flowed freely, as though Solarius' light had ignited them.
Heroes were born.
And villains followed.
Now, in this new era—an age where power shapes society—seeing someone lift a bus or outrun a bullet isn't strange at all. Abilities have become a part of daily life, woven into cities, schools, and careers. People dream of growing strong, becoming protectors, rising to the heroic legends of Solarius Tenma.
A large TV display mounted on the outside wall of an electronics shop flickered, broadcasting a documentary about that legendary day. Pedestrians slowed, watching clips of Solarius descending, his light tearing away darkness.
A group of young kids gathered around the screen, eyes sparkling like stars.
"Woah! Solarius Tenma was so cool!" a small boy said, his hair standing on end with excitement.
"I'm gonna become a hero just like him!" another shouted, striking a pose that earned giggles from the others.
"Yeah! I'll save people and be on TV too!"
Their laughter echoed along the street.
As crowds rushed past, a teenage girl walked into the scene. She seemed around sixteen or seventeen, wearing a simple cloth—navy skirt, white shirt, jacket tied around her waist. Her black hair was tied loosely, a little messy from rushing.
In her hand, she held a small folded piece of paper.
Her eyes kept drifting down to it, reading the handwritten address repeatedly as if to make sure she hadn't misread it even once. The paper trembled slightly between her fingers—nervousness, perhaps. Whatever destination it held, she was clearly going there alone.
She didn't stop to watch the documentary. She didn't react to the kids' shouts about heroes. She simply passed by quietly, her thoughts elsewhere.
The city around her, however, was far from quiet.
The teenage girl slowed her steps, staring at the crumpled paper in her hand for the tenth time. The address on it looked simple enough… yet nothing about her situation felt simple.
She let out a long, defeated sigh.
"…I really am lost."
As if to add insult to injury, her stomach growled loudly.
"Haaah…" She pressed a hand to her stomach, embarrassed even though no one heard. "Great. Lost and hungry."
Her eyes drifted around, searching for any landmark that could help her—but all she saw were tall buildings, signs, and crowds. Everything looked identical. Every street felt like a copy of the last.
Then, the warm smell of fresh bread drifted toward her.
She turned her head. A small bakery stood on the corner, its sign reading Sunrise Breads, and the golden glow inside looked almost welcoming. Her stomach growled again, louder this time.
"Well… I need energy," she muttered.
Ding—ling!
The small bell above the bakery door chimed as she pushed it open.
A few minutes later—
Ding—ling!
She exited, holding a warm bun in one hand and the same wrinkled paper in the other. The bun was slightly sweet, fluffy, and still steaming. She took a bite, her expression softening in relief.
"Finally… some food," she murmured between bites.
But once the taste settled, reality punched her again.
"What should I do…?" she whispered to herself as she walked forward. "This city is so big… every building looks exactly the same. If I don't find a place to stay before the hero examinations, I'll end up spending the night wandering these streets… and that's the last thing I need.
She was mid-sentence when—
"—Hey, watch it!"
Someone bumped hard into her from the side.
"Ah!"
She stumbled, falling to her knees. The bun almost slipped from her hand, and the paper fluttered dangerously close to the street.
She looked up, about to complain—
And froze.
A man with unusually large muscles was storming out of the jewelry shop just a few meters away. He wore a torn sleeveless jacket, veins bulging along his arms, and a mask hanging loosely around his neck as if he'd ripped it off in a hurry. His fists were massive—almost as big as her head.
People whispered fearfully from the sidewalks.
"It's him…"
"That villain—Cragfist! He's back!"
"Why is he in this area!?"
The girl's heart skipped a beat as she slowly got back on her feet, brushing dust off her knees.
A group of police officers appeared seconds later, blocking Cragfist's path with drawn batons and shields.
"Cragfist!" one officer shouted. "Drop the stolen items and put your hands where we can see them!"
The villain cracked his knuckles, muscles tightening like coiled steel.
"Tch… police again? You really think you can stop me?"
People backed away. Some screamed. Others pulled out their phones but kept shaking.
And the girl stood there, clutching her half-eaten bun and the little paper, staring wide-eyed at the chaos unfolding right in front of her.
Cragfist planted his feet wide, muscles swelling like they were about to burst. The police braced themselves, but even they knew they couldn't hold him long.
Then—
A sharp gust of wind cut through the street.
FWOOOSH!
Something landed between the officers and the villain, the impact cracking the pavement slightly. Dust swirled, clearing just enough to reveal a figure standing tall and confident.
A young man, maybe in his early twenties, wearing a dark blue combat suit with silver plates running across his arms. A faint electric shimmer ran over his gloves, sparking lightly.
The crowd gasped.
"It's Volt Strider!"
"No way—he came himself!"
"He's a Rank C hero, right? Higher than Cragfist!"
"Thank goodness… we might actually be saved!"
Volt Strider tilted his head slightly, stretching his neck as if he had just woken from a nap.
Cragfist groaned.
"You again…"
Volt sighed dramatically.
"Cragfist. Last warning. Put down the stolen goods, surrender peacefully… and don't make me miss my lunch break."
The villain spat to the side.
"Like hell I'm surrendering! Try stopping me!"
Volt didn't look surprised.
"Yeah. I figured you'd say that."
The girl stood only a few meters from the center of the clash, clutching her bun tightly. People rushed past her, backing away—but she couldn't move. Not because she was frozen in fear… but because she was mesmerized.
Her heart thumped.
She'd never seen a real hero fight this close.
Volt dashed forward first, electricity trailing behind him as he swung a charged punch.
Cragfist blocked with his massive forearm—sparks zapped across his skin, but the impact pushed him back several steps.
"Ghh—! Annoying brat!"
He retaliated with a ground-shaking punch aimed straight at Volt.
BOOM!
The pavement cracked.
Volt jumped back, landing right beside the teenage girl.
"Wah—!" she yelped, nearly dropping her bun.
Volt glanced at her for half a second.
"You should step back. It'll get messy."
Before she could respond, Cragfist lunged forward, swinging a fist the size of a boulder.
Volt grabbed the girl's wrist, pulling her out of the way as the punch smashed the spot she had been standing on.
The sudden pull made her stumble forward—her hands flailing for balance.
The half-eaten bun survived…
but the small paper with the address slipped from her fingers, fluttering through the air and landing on the cracked pavement behind her.
She gasped, breath catching, eyes darting back toward the fallen paper just as the ground trembled from Cragfist's attack. But then she heard the voice, sharp and cutting through the chaos, and her eyes snapped toward it.
The villain roared, "Stop running!"
Volt grinned, "Stop swinging!"
They clashed again—electricity against brute strength. A shockwave blasted outward, rattling shop windows. The girl shielded her eyes, hair whipping with the force. She could feel the heat, the danger, the power… everything real heroes faced.
She wasn't just watching.
She was in the middle of it.
Within seconds, police officers ushered civilians back. The girl managed to retreat to a safer distance, but her eyes stayed locked on the fight, wide with awe.
Two more exchanged blows—Cragfist slamming the ground, Volt zipping around him in streaks of light.
And then—
The fight slowed, both stepping back to gauge each other.
The girl exhaled shakily.
"So… this is what a real hero and villain fight looks like…" she whispered, surprised, overwhelmed, amazed.
Her thoughts trembled.
Would I… really be able to do something like that one day?
Before she could sink deeper into her doubts—
A voice came from beside her, casual and curious:
"Seeing a fight like this for the first time?"
The girl turned toward the voice.
Beside her stood a middle-aged man wearing simple clothes and thin rectangular glasses. His hair was slightly messy, and he carried a calm, gentle expression—completely ordinary at first glance, almost too ordinary for a city filled with powered individuals.
Seeing her surprised look, the man raised his hands shyly.
"A-ah, sorry if I startled you," he said with a small bow. "I just noticed… you dropped this."
He held out the small, slightly dirty paper that had fallen during the fight.
She blinked, then quickly reached for it.
"O–oh! Thank you." She brushed the dust off the paper. "Y-yeah… it's my first time seeing something like this."
The girl glanced back at the battle. Volt Strider charged forward, lightning dancing around him while the crowd roared with encouragement.
The girl's eyes widened again—not with fear, but with something brighter.
"I… didn't know it looked so bright," she whispered. "Everyone cheering for the hero… pushing him forward… believing in him."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"I always read about heroes… watched videos… but seeing it this close—it's different."
She pressed the paper to her chest, her eyes reflecting the sparks from the fight.
"I… I want to be like that too."
A small smile tugged at her lips as she watched Volt dodge another punch, the people shouting his name, the atmosphere pulsing with energy and hope.
She turned back to the man.
"That's why I came here… to take the hero examination."
The man blinked, and then a warm, approving smile formed on his face.
"Is that so? It's really nice to see young kids with passion like yours," he said gently. "It reminds me that the world still has people who want to protect it."
The girl smiled back, a little shy but proud.
The man adjusted his glasses.
"So, you're trying to find a place to live in this area, right?"
The girl blinked in surprise.
"Eh? How do you know…?"
He tapped the folded paper in his hand.
"I read it on the paper you dropped."
"Oh—" Her shoulders relaxed. "Well… yes."
"Oh! Yes," she added quickly, nodding. "I need somewhere to stay until the exams… but I'm totally lost."
The man nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Mmm… it will be difficult. Almost every rental around here is already full. A lot of young aspirants like you arrive around this season, so places get taken fast…"
The girl's shoulders slumped a little as she heard that almost every place was full.
"Oh…" she murmured, looking down at the crumpled paper in her hands. "I came all this way… and I still don't have a place to stay. What am I supposed to do now…?"
Her voice held a quiet disappointment.
Hiroshi Sakamoto watched her expression soften into worry. After a moment, he let out a small chuckle and adjusted his glasses.
"Well," he said, "you might be in luck."
She blinked. "Huh?"
Hiroshi gave her a warm smile.
"I didn't properly introduce my job earlier. I'm Hiroshi Sakamoto, a leasing agent here in the North District. It's true most apartments are full right now…" He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. "…but if you want, I might be able to help you find something."
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"R-really!? You can help!?"
"If you're fine with a smaller place or something a little older, yes," he replied with a nod. "I know a few owners personally. One or two places might still be available."
The girl's face brightened with relief.
"Yes! Please! That would help me so much!"
Then she suddenly straightened, realizing her manners.
"Oh—sorry! I forgot to introduce myself," she said quickly. "I'm Miyu Asane. Nice to meet you!"
Hiroshi smiled warmly at her enthusiasm.
"Nice to meet you too, Asane-san."