In a world where power was rare, heroes were worshiped.
Their names led broadcasts. Their victories were taught in schools. Entire cities celebrated when one was born nearby. When disasters struck, people did not wait for armies or politicians.
They waited for heroes.
But heroes were not common.
Across the entire world, only around five hundred thousand licensed heroes existed.
Some controlled fire. Some moved faster than cars. Some could crush steel with their hands. A few could heal wounds that modern medicine could not touch.
And fewer still possessed mana.
Mana was a hidden force that rested inside certain people like a sleeping flame. Those born with it could learn magic, strengthen their bodies, or develop abilities beyond normal human limits.
Most people never awakened anything.
They lived normal lives.
Worked jobs.
Went to school.
Watched hero battles on screens like everyone else.
Because of that, children who showed signs of mana were treated differently. Some families celebrated. Others panicked. Wealthy parents hired private trainers immediately before their child accidentally burned a house down or flooded a neighborhood.
Gifted children often entered academies.
The unlucky ones were forgotten.
Then there were the rarest kind of all.
People who looked ordinary.
People who hid what they truly were.
Today, one of them had turned eighteen.
And no one in the great nation of Thornevale understood what kind of monster was walking through their streets.
Thornevale is one of the top-ranked nations in the world, governed by the Hero Association.
It sits among the Top 7 nations globally, known for its advanced hero system, strict ranking structure, and elite combat training programs. While not the strongest nation, it is one of the most influential hubs for mana users and licensed heroes.
Glass towers rose high enough to catch sunlight before the streets did. Elevated rail lines curved between buildings like silver veins. Massive screens covered shopping districts, broadcasting advertisements, weather alerts, and hero rankings.
Crowded roads below were packed with cars, buses, and delivery trucks.
Street vendors shouted over traffic.
Office workers rushed with coffee in hand.
Students crossed intersections in waves.
The nation felt normal.
Until something extraordinary happened.
Then all eyes turned upward.
At the center of the skyline stood the tallest building in the nation.
The Central Hero Association.
Its silver tower overlooked the city like a giant judge.
Inside that building, tryouts were beginning today.
And on the east side of the nation, Tatsuga was late for class.
Thornevale University was large, modern, and expensive.
Its front courtyard held fountains, stone walkways, and banners celebrating graduates who had become engineers, doctors, and once every few years—heroes.
Because mana users were rare, any student known to possess it became campus gossip.
Most students here were normal.
Which made Tatsuga blend in perfectly.
He walked through campus beside his friend Haruto, both wearing uniforms and carrying bags.
Haruto had green hair, loud opinions, and average grades.
Tatsuga had black hair, calm eyes, and secrets.
"So you're really going to try out for the CHA today?" Haruto asked.
"Yeah," Tatsuga said. "I'm eighteen now. Means I can apply."
Haruto looked at him like he was crazy.
"You still have classes. How are you gonna balance hero work and school?"
"Part-time hero. Full-time student."
"That sounds stupid."
"It sounds efficient."
"It sounds dangerous."
Tatsuga smirked.
"I'll be strong."
Haruto shook his head.
"You always say that like it means something."
You have no idea, Tatsuga thought.
Out loud, he only said, "Relax. I'll be fine."
"I guess."
They entered class.
The lecture hall was wide, cold, and painfully quiet.
Students filled rows of seats while a professor prepared notes at the front.
"Good morning," he said. "Today we continue Calculus."
Several students groaned.
As formulas began appearing across the board, Tatsuga glanced once.
That was enough.
Every answer clicked into place before the professor finished writing.
Too easy.
Haruto leaned over.
"I hate math. You helping me again?"
"I've carried you since freshman year."
"My brother."
"You're helpless."
Haruto smiled proudly.
Tatsuga looked out the window.
Far beyond campus buildings, he could see the distant CHA tower.
Soon.
After class ended, the two walked into the busy afternoon streets near campus.
Students filled sidewalks. Cars honked. Delivery drones crossed overhead. Giant screens replayed a recent hero battle in another district.
An armored fighter punched through concrete.
Crowds on the sidewalk stopped to watch.
"Imagine getting paid millions to do that," Haruto said.
"That's the dream," Tatsuga replied.
They entered Burger Palace.
Burger Palace was packed with students, workers, and tourists.
Hero posters lined the walls. Signed photos of local fighters hung behind the counter. A television above the registers replayed interviews with top-ranked heroes.
Children argued near the soda machine.
"Titan Crown beats Iron Tempest!"
"No he doesn't!"
Tatsuga and Haruto sat down with burgers and fries.
They took a bite.
"Tasty," both said together.
"Burger Palace never fails," Tatsuga said.
Haruto nodded.
"So why do you really want to become a hero?"
Tatsuga shrugged.
"Money. Fun. Freedom."
"That's not deep at all."
"Didn't ask to be deep."
Haruto laughed.
"You know heroes deal with criminals, monsters, disasters…"
"That's what makes it interesting."
Haruto stared.
"You're insane."
"Maybe."
Then Tatsuga checked his phone.
1:30 PM.
He stood immediately.
"Oh crap."
"What?"
"Tryouts start at two."
"You have thirty minutes."
"My mom says early is on time."
"Your mom sounds stressful."
"She's wise."
Tatsuga grabbed his bag and rushed out.
Haruto looked at the untouched fries.
"…More for me."
Behind the restaurant, Tatsuga stepped into an empty alley.
He looked left.
Right.
No witnesses.
Good.
"I should've changed first."
Too late now.
He bent slightly—
Then lifted into the air.
Smooth.
Controlled.
Silent.
He flew low between buildings, careful not to rise high enough for attention. Unauthorized flight inside city zones led to questions.
Questions were annoying.
Wind rushed past his face as Thornevale stretched beneath him.
Traffic crawled through streets.
People crowded sidewalks.
Emergency sirens wailed somewhere in the distance.
And ahead—
The CHA tower dominated everything.
Tatsuga's playful expression faded.
"Now it's time to focus."
He accelerated.
The Central Hero Association headquarters had its own district. It stood in the middle of Thornevale Nation.
Security barriers surrounded the plaza. Cameras tracked every angle. Large statues of legendary heroes lined the walkway to the entrance.
Tourists took pictures outside.
Applicants paced nervously.
Parents waited near fences.
Tatsuga landed a block away, then casually walked the rest.
Inside, the lobby surprised him.
Simple.
White floors.
Front desk.
One suited man.
One sealed metal door.
That was all.
"Hello, young man," the receptionist said politely. "Are you here for tryouts?"
"Yes, sir."
The man handed him a tablet.
"Search your name."
Tatsuga typed quickly, selected his registration, and handed it back.
The receptionist checked the photo.
Then nodded.
The metal door beside him slid open.
"Proceed through there."
"Thank you."
Tatsuga picked up his bag and walked in.
The hallway beyond looked futuristic.
White walls glowed with thin blue light. Floors reflected the ceiling. Hidden vents cooled the air. Security cameras were nearly impossible to spot.
At the far end came loud voices.
Tatsuga followed them.
Then stopped at a railing.
Below him was a massive chamber filled with applicants.
Over fifty young men and women stood talking, stretching, pacing, or nervously muttering to themselves.
Some looked confident.
Some looked terrified.
Some clearly came for fame.
Others came because hero pay could change a family's future.
"There's a lot of people," Tatsuga muttered.
He vaulted the railing and landed below.
Immediately, he noticed one crowd gathered around a single person.
A younger-looking boy with orange hair and an orange tracksuit stood smiling while others admired him.
Perfect posture.
Perfect confidence.
Perfect life, probably.
Girls lingered nearby.
Guys pretended not to care.
Tatsuga didn't.
He moved to a wall, sat down, and dropped his bag beside him.
Then someone approached.
A brown-haired girl in a purple tracksuit.
"Um… hello," Tatsuga said.
"You're Tatsuga, right?"
"…Yeah. How do you know that?"
"We go to the same university."
"How do you know that?"
She pointed at his uniform.
Tatsuga looked down.
He had forgotten he was still dressed for class.
"…Right."
She laughed softly.
He stood and offered a hand.
"Nice to meet you. Your name?"
She shook it.
"Nanami Orakara."
"Nice to meet you too."
She smiled.
"We should be allies."
"I'm open to that."
Tatsuga nodded toward the orange-haired boy.
"Who's the celebrity?"
Nanami glanced over.
"Soukaga Ladwend. Sixteen years old. Youngest applicant in history."
"Sixteen?"
"Rich family. Private trainers since he was little."
"Then he's probably skilled."
"Very."
She looked back at Tatsuga.
"What ability do you use?"
"I'd rather not say."
She giggled.
"Secretive type?"
"Something like that."
Truth is, I use all of them, Tatsuga thought.
Nanami placed a hand over her chest proudly.
"I'm a healer."
Tatsuga blinked.
Healers were the rarest branch in hero society. Some cities had none.
"That's impressive."
"I want people to feel safe when they see me," she said.
Tatsuga smiled.
"Then we'll make a good team. I fight threats. You save people."
"I like that."
Then the room changed.
A man in a suit stepped onto the upper platform overlooking everyone.
Mid-forties.
Sharp eyes.
Calm face.
Heavy presence.
The Hero Director.
Conversations died instantly.
"Hello," he said. "You civilians who wish to become heroes."
Everyone looked up.
"Some of you have mana. Some of you do not."
He paced slowly.
"If you do not, do not lose hope. Power Girl reached S-Rank without mana or magic."
Murmurs spread.
"She built herself into a weapon through physical training alone."
Even Tatsuga respected that.
The Director raised one finger.
"Your tryouts last three days."
"Today: evaluation and instruction."
Second finger.
"Tomorrow: rank testing and combat simulations."
Third finger.
"Final day: judgment."
Excitement spread through the room.
Then the Director smiled faintly.
"But first…"
His eyes sharpened.
"I need to know what level you stand at."
Invisible pressure exploded outward.
The room became heavy.
Breathing became harder.
Several applicants froze.
One dropped to a knee.
"What is this…?" someone whispered.
Nanami staggered.
"Tatsuga… do you feel that?"
Tatsuga stood still.
Calm.
Yes.
I feel it.
But it's weak.
Others panicked.
"I can't breathe!"
Soukaga remained standing, though one leg trembled.
Yet he smiled.
"Yes…"
"This is the level I want."
Tatsuga slowly lifted his eyes toward the Director.
So this is a mana pressure test.
Interesting.
The Director looked back.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
Then the pressure vanished.
Everyone gasped for air.
Nanami held her chest.
"That was insane…"
Tatsuga said nothing.
So that's where the bar starts.
Good.
A girl near Soukaga shouted, "You didn't even fall!"
"Of course not," Soukaga said proudly.
My legs almost snapped, he thought privately.
The Director chuckled.
"Perhaps we'll find talent after all."
Then the wall behind Tatsuga began sliding open.
He jumped up.
"What the hell?!"
Nanami laughed.
"It's just the wall."
"It caught me off guard."
Behind it was a hidden classroom with rows of desks and a professor waiting at the front beside a whiteboard.
He adjusted his glasses and smiled.
"Take your seats."
"Let's begin creating heroes."
To Be Continued
A/N: I'll be posting two chapters for release day, then switching to one chapter daily. If you enjoy the story, support it with power stones and collections—if the support is strong enough, I'll increase uploads to two chapters a day.