Rain fell like judgment.
Beneath the towering statue of Lady Sentry—adorned in silver and gold, now dulled and speckled with rain—families huddled beneath umbrellas and jackets, seeking cover where they could. The sunny afternoon had been swallowed by gray skies and rumbling clouds.
A woman stood quietly beneath a small umbrella, shielding her young son from the rain. Together, they stared up at the monument—an eternal tribute to the hero they both admired.
At the statue's base, a plaque read:
To those who gave everything — after Autumn's Fall.
The boy tilted his head, puzzled. "What does it mean, Mom?"
His mother noticed his curiosity and smiled gently. "Being a hero means sacrifice. It means facing the impossible and doing what's right, no matter the cost."
The boy's eyes lit up with wonder. "Do you think… I can be a hero too?"
His mother hesitated—just for a moment. A shadow flickered in her gaze before it faded behind a soft smile. "Heroes come in all shapes and forms, my son."
He blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You'll understand someday, Jonathan."
---
Twelve years later...
0400 Hours
The alarm blared through the dim room.
Jonathan Kirk groaned, slapped it off, and sat up with a yawn. He rubbed his eyes, staring at the red digits: 21st of March.
The day that could change everything.
Seven years had passed since his mother died. Since then, he had lived alone, working part-time jobs to pay for rent and basic training. Despite the hardship, his dream of becoming a hero had never wavered—it had only grown sharper, more focused.
At his local ability school, he'd been considered average. Not weak, not outstanding—but noted for something else. Control. Precision. Qualities others overlooked but his instructors respected. He didn't have flashy powers, but he had potential.
Today was the admission test for the Nexlark Group's Regional Academy, the place where future licensed heroes were trained under corporate guidance and governance.
Jonathan glanced at the calendar, then at a small photo of his mother taped beside it.
"I'm going to make it," he whispered.
He rose and headed to the bathroom, enduring the shock of cold water as he showered. He scrubbed himself clean, using his favorite shampoo to wash away the grime and tension. After drying off and brushing his teeth, he stared at the mirror for a moment before nodding to himself.
At 0500 hours, he was dressed in the outfit he had laid out the night before—a red hoodie, white undershirt, and flexible brown pants. Comfortable, reliable. The kind of clothes a hero-in-training could move in.
He skipped breakfast, nerves and excitement curling in his stomach. He had submitted his paperwork days earlier, and now, all he needed was his temporary ID card to be admitted into the test.
Despite four application attempts allowed per year, Jonathan hoped—no, believed—he'd only need one. He was confident in his training, in the effort he'd poured into every moment leading to this.
His favorite breakfast place opened at 0630. Arriving early, he stretched and performed a few light warm-ups while waiting for the doors to open. As the line began to form, a tall man in a gray suit stepped ahead of everyone.
Jonathan frowned, annoyed by the blatant line-cutting. He stepped forward to speak but stopped.
Something was… off.
The man exuded presence. Not just confidence—but power. Jonathan felt it like pressure on his chest, a reminder of how small he still was.
"I apologize, young man… I'm in a bit of a hurry," the silver-haired man said, voice smooth, polite, but laced with something unshakable.
Jonathan hesitated. His lips froze, then moved on instinct. "I… It's fine, mister…"
"Good," the man replied, smirking as he patted Jonathan on the shoulder. "I see quite a talent in you."
Before Jonathan could respond, the man had already stepped forward to order. Jonathan stood frozen, heart pounding, unsure what had just happened.
"Young man?" a voice called, snapping him back.
He turned to the counter where an attendant waited. "S-Sorry… I'll take the special breakfast set."
---
After finishing his meal, Jonathan felt more grounded. His nerves had settled—somewhat—and he made his way toward the regional academy. From a distance, the massive school came into view, its architecture modern and sleek, surrounded by trees and greenery.
He stared, awe tugging at his chest.
This is where it begins, he thought.
At the gate, a uniformed guard checked his temporary ID, then waved him through. His destination was Building 5, located beside the gymnasium.
The campus was well-maintained. Lush gardens, trimmed hedges, and even rare plants decorated the paths. He took it all in, feeling like he was stepping into another world.
When he arrived at Building 5, he noticed the halls were empty. A glance at his watch read 0730 hours—early. The test hadn't started yet.
He took a seat near the entrance, resting his feet.
"It's quite rare to see someone so eager for this exam," a pompous voice rang out behind him.
Jonathan turned and froze. A beautiful girl with striking features stood behind him—arms crossed, chin high, eyes full of arrogant amusement.
He blinked. "I see… Thanks, I guess?"
"Why are you thanking me?" she replied, tilting her head in mock confusion.
Jonathan didn't like the way she looked at him—like he was beneath her. But he didn't want trouble, not today.
"I've got somewhere to be," he said, turning away.
Her eyes widened. "How dare you turn your back on me?! I—Lisa Emris—will make sure your life here isn't easy! I swear it!"
Jonathan sighed and walked toward the bleachers inside the hall, ignoring her tantrum.
As he sat, a strange sensation prickled at his neck. It wasn't from Lisa.
It was something… darker.
Like someone was watching him.
They weren't friendly.