The orphanage smelled like home one last time.
I woke before the sun, the sling heavy on my shoulder. The stump where my arm used to be throbbed with that familiar dull burn. I'd tried using my second aspect again last night—the energy one that copied animal abilities without changing my body. Just a faint green glow under the bandages, pulling at the nub of new flesh that was barely starting to push out. It hurt more than it helped, like the energy was scraping at bone that wasn't ready yet. The doctor said it might take months.
. ..Or never fully come back.
I sat up slow, one-handed, and packed the small bag they let me take. A spare shirt. The sandcastle keychain from Hope. Lily's little doll joint she'd given me as a joke. A folded drawing from one of the younger kids. That was it. No more room for anything else.
The kids were already waiting in the yard when I stepped outside. Fewer faces than before. Luke and Hope were long gone—adopted into real families. The ones left waved from a distance, careful smiles like they were afraid too much noise would break me.
I tried to smile back. My teeth were always showing, bare and jagged with no lips or skin to hide them. It probably looked more like a snarl than anything friendly.
Lily was the last to say goodbye.
She met me at the gate, hands in her pockets, trying for her usual grin. "So. Big day for the one-armed wonder."
I huffed a laugh. "Yeah."
She popped her arm off at the elbow, joint clicking loose, and held it out like a peace offering. "Want to borrow it for the road? Might come in handy."
I took it, awkward with my one good hand, and waved it once. "Thanks, sis." quickly handing back. Her grin faltered. For a second she looked like she might cry. Instead she stepped in and hugged me careful around the sling, both her arms tight around my back.
"You're my hero, remember?" she whispered. "Even with the broken parts."
I hugged back as best I could. "Don't let the little ones forget to eat their vegetables."
She laughed wetly and pulled away, reattaching her arm with a click. "No promises."
Hank and Mia were waiting by the official car at the curb. The social worker stood a few feet away, clipboard in hand, pretending not to watch.
Mia reached me first. Her wings folded around me like a blanket, warm and soft. "You're still our one of our boys," she whispered, voice cracking. "No matter where they put you."
I nodded against her shoulder. "I know."
Hank's turn. He didn't say much, just simply pulled me into a careful bear hug, one big hand on the back of my head. "you keep your head up, you didn't do anything wrong," he murmured. "I promise."
I believed him.
Even though I knew he might have thought that, I still didn't believe it .
The social worker cleared her throat. "Time to go, Todd."
I climbed into the back seat. The door shut with a heavy click. Through the window I watched Hank and Mia stand there, arms around each other, getting smaller as the car pulled away.
The drive was long and quiet.
I stared out at the city blurring past—bright signs, people laughing on sidewalks, normal life moving on like nothing had changed. My stump itched under the bandages. The energy aspect flickered faintly inside me again, a weak green pulse trying to coax the nub of new arm forward. It hurt, but I let it. Pain was better than nothing.
I kept thinking about my reflection in the hospital mirror the day they told me. Bare teeth always showing. No lips. No skin on my cheeks. Just that permanent, jagged grin that made people flinch.
I'd spent so long acting like a scared nine-year-old. Crying. Hiding. Using this new body as an excuse.
But I wasn't nine.
I was nineteen in my head. I'd already lived one life. Died once. Woke up in a world that hated what I looked like.
Consequences weren't just for other people.
I hurt Slade. I scared the kids. I made Mia cry.
. ..This was my fault... and consequences exist.
.
.
.
The facility would probably be cold. Locked doors. No hugs. No Lily jokes. No Hank's steady hand on my shoulder, i mean it makes sense, its for children who have hurt others with strong quirks.
.
But I wouldn't cry like a child anymore.
I'll face it.
The car finally slowed in front of a long, gray building behind high fences. Security quirks scanned the gate. The walls were plain concrete, no color, no drawings, no warmth.
The social worker opened my door. "This is it." with a smile so fake i could't tell if she was in pain saying that , or if she was trying to be nice. .. i don't know which one is wose in all honestly.
Inside smelled like bleach and metal. Echoing hallways. Kids in gray uniforms walking single file, eyes down. Staff in crisp uniforms watched them like they were problems to be managed.
They processed me quick. Paperwork. A quick quirk scan. They noted the slow-growing nub on my stump "Regeneration aspect noted. Monitor for instability." The doctor's voice was flat, like I was a machine with a glitch.
My new room was small. A metal bed. A single window with bars. No posters. No drawings. Just a locker for my bag.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the keychain still in my good hand. The sandcastle felt tiny now.
I lay back, staring at the ceiling, and closed my eyes.
Tomorrow they'd said they'd start my "training."
But tonight, I held the keychain tight against my chest.
I wasn't really a kid anymore.
I'd face whatever came next.
Like the man I needed to be.
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hey guys sorry for not posting for a minute, colloge and sicknesses has been wooping my butt, like lowkey my classes have been hella hard for like, no reason. but yea i'm not dropping this story, plz comment cause lowkey i think i rushed this chap a bit, don't know additionally, i would like ya'll to also like to add i am also making a dnd session for my friends so i would like to make funny encounters, if ya'll if you played dnd to tell me experiences ya'll have gone through.