A World Without Villains... Was it truly possible? Vendel Nguvu pondered as he writhed in his bed of agony. The concept had been frequently discussed by famous superheroes in the media, but he couldn't help but wonder if they genuinely believed in it or not. There would always be a troublemaker strolling around in a tainted world... or perhaps the concept was actually possible.

  Regardless, the propaganda successfully influenced Ven, as he yearned to be a superhero. Saving innocent civilians from danger, what could be more commendable than that? The unique concept was always gyrating in Ven's mind.

  Lyteman, the forgotten superhero, had been one of the most valiant heroes in the world. He firmly believed in the concept of a world without villains and he was certainly the most vocal about the concept. Through all sorts of calamities, Lyteman had always swooped in, delivering justice with his heroic fists. He mysteriously disappeared ten years ago… nobody has heard from him since. Perhaps he had retired from his life as a superhero, as It was inconceivable that such a virtuous man would ever succumb to evil.

  Ven let out a sigh as he placed his weary hand on his damaged chest. As much as he aspired to be like Lyteman and other superheroes, he knew it was impossible. He had undergone a heart transplant only a few weeks ago, and his body was still in recovery.

  For years, he had eagerly anticipated the heart transplant, only to find himself plagued by complications afterwards. The doctors couldn't guarantee his survival; the thought of dying prematurely was unfathomable, though death was allegedly whispering at his window for years. Originally, he was told that he wouldn't live past thirteen, yet now he was eighteen and still alive... and still suffering.

  He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, the weight of it all settling in his chest like it always did. No matter how many years had passed, he still hadn’t gotten used to living like this. The nurses always told him he’d adjust eventually, that it would get easier—but he couldn’t help wondering when. After living so long with a weak heart, the constant anxiety never really let up. Deep down, he believed that if he were just healthy, everything else would fall into place. If he could just feel okay for once, what else could possibly go wrong?

  He sighed again, then reached for the remote and adjusted the bed to sit up a little straighter. Maybe the TV could help take his mind off things—even if it usually didn’t. He flipped through the channels aimlessly: cooking shows, soap operas, the usual stuff. Then something caught his eye—a news segment about the superhero Stylo. He wasn’t one of the big names, not by a long shot, but his over-the-top personality always made him weirdly fun to watch.

  Ven focused intently on the heavy words emanating from the television.

  "And so, more mysterious deaths have been reported all throughout the world, this time in Farmersville. Stylo, how close are the Hero Branch and Law Enforcement to finding the culprits of this mystery?"

  "Well," Stylo began, stroking his well-groomed goatee. "At the moment, we still don't have any leads. We don't even know the motive behind these crimes. We believe the culprit, or culprits are emergees, as how else could populations of entire towns be wiped out? Law enforcement might have some leads, but they're not disclosing them to avoid compromising the investigation. Once they gather enough evidence, the Hero Branch will apprehend the criminals accordingly."

  Mysterious deaths? Ven thought as he stared intensely at the television. What awful crimes, if only those poor people were spared. He wished he could be part of the Hero Brunch and help out some type of way. The Hero Branch’s employed Superheroes always did what was right, what profession could be more fulfilling? The obvious right thing to do would be to find and stop the murderers who committed such heinous massacres.

  Ven observed Stylo intently as he delved into discussions about less significant matters. There were several ice powered superheroes, however Stylo was certainly the “best-dressed” of the bunch. He had a solid fanbase, a huge salary, and enough recognition to hold his own in the superhero world. After the emergences, many people obtained superpowers, however only people who were legally registered as superheroes were permitted to work officially.

  Stylo was one of the lucky ones—and to his credit, he used the spotlight to actually help people.

  As Ven's mind wandered, he submerged himself in self-pity—a routine occurrence for him. If he were like Stylo or any other hero, he could accomplish anything. He could walk and not grow weary, instead of becoming fatigue every other step. He could jump higher than mountains and not splatter to the ground like he did currently. He could save people... he couldn't even save himself from his misery, why was he thinking about saving people? He just wished he wasn't in such a pathetic-useless body that wasn't capable of doing anything, other than experience great pain. He hated his heart, he hated his body, he hated the unfairness and above all else, he hated his life. If only he could live his life as a hero at the Hero Brunch, surely that would bring him joy. All of those heroes were very fortunate.

  In a fit of rage, Ven switched off the television and then placed a hand over his elevated heart rate. He pressed a hand over his heart, trying to slow the pounding. Rage was not healthy for anyone, especially individuals who were suffering from heart conditions. Getting worked up never helped—it only made things worse. The machines around him started beeping like crazy, and his anxiety kicked in even harder. He took a few shaky breaths, telling himself he was okay. Not dying. Not yet. He hated how fragile his body was, hated how one bad mood could send everything spiraling. But even with all that anger, he didn’t want to die at the young age of eighteen.

  "Everything okay here Ven?" a nurse named Patty said as she stuck her head in Ven's somber hospital room.

  "Uh... everything's fine. I think my vitals will go back to normal soon," said Ven, feigning confidence.

  You're dying! You're dying! You're dying! Was what his mind kept telling him at that moment. If only there were a way to shut it down.

  Patty walked over to Ven and read his eadings on the machine.

  "Your bpm is 135, and your blood pressure is 130/90. Not good right now, but we have seen way worse. Are you stressed out? That could have increased your vitals.”

  "Yeah super stressed. Doctor Tiba still says this new heart isn't 'working like it should,'" frowned Ven.

  "Don't worry! He also said there weren't any major complications. You're still alive so that's all that matters now," said Patty. “And look, your heart rate is going down already!”

  "I see," said Ven as he turned away from her in even more despair.

  "By the way, I saw your mother checking in. She should be here soon!"

  "My mother? I'm surprised she's not busy today. Thanks for telling me," Ven said.

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  “If you need anything else, please let me know,” said the nurse before she exited the room.

  Ven’s mom, Vera Nguvu, wasn’t just some regular woman. She ran one of the biggest banks in the country—Bahari—and its main office sat right in the heart of Amani, the capital. She and Ven’s dad, Vitani, had started the company together a few years before Ven was born. Ven barely remembered Vitani, as he died when Ven was only three years old. All he had were stories—how everyone said his dad was “the coolest guy ever.” Sometimes, Ven caught himself wondering what that guy—the coolest guy ever—would think if he saw his son like this, stuck in a hospital bed, fighting just to feel normal. Maybe not much, as he probably went through the same thing. He died from heart issues; it seemed his father’s curse was trying to take him out too.

  Vera Nguvu had a somewhat youthful appearance, and her effortless sense of style made her a quiet icon—not just in Bahari, but well beyond its borders. Whether she was speaking at press conferences or attending public events, she carried herself with a kind of calm strength that people instantly connected with. Her smooth brown skin caught the light in a way that seemed almost intentional, though it was just who she was.

  Her hair, a crown of neat, loc’d coils, always made a statement. One lock, dyed gold at the front, stood out like a signature. Ven wore his hair in locs too, though his were messier, less thought-out—a reflection of how he felt most days.

  Despite all the years that had passed since Vitani’s death, Vera never remarried. Perhaps she was still grieving his untimely demise. Ven didn’t want her to have to grieve him too.

  Ven was thankful she was there. Even though she couldn’t take the pain away, just having her nearby made things feel a little less unbearable. He knew the only reason he was still alive was because of her—because she had the power, the money, the connections to keep him on that transplant list. She must’ve fought like hell to make sure he stayed there. And still, none of it seemed to matter. Not when the one thing they needed—a cure—remained out of reach. All that wealth, all that influence, and she still couldn’t save him.

  A little while later, Vera entered the hospital room. Her kind presence brightened the somber atmosphere, however, Ven's despair soon quickly overshadowed it.

  "Hey sweetie," greeted Vera has she planted a kiss on her son’s cheek.

  "I'm surprised you came today," said Ven as he tried to erase his joy.

  "Of course I came! I'll always make time for my baby," said Vera. "How are you feeling now?"

  Ven mustered a smile, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. He detested crying in front of others, especially his mother. He didn't want anyone to witness the immense pain he was enduring.

  "I guess I'm doing okay," Ven lied. "It just doesn’t like this heart transplant is going to do the job. Doctor Tiba said I had a few complications, what are the odds that those complications aren't going to get worse?" He had already expressed this fear to his mother several times, perhaps his agony made him forget.

  "It's going to work sweetie, trust me," said Vera. "Don't worry about complications."

  "You always say things like that, how do you know?"

  “I guess I just have a feeling,” said Vera somberly.

  “That doesn’t make any sense! That just sounds like….” Ven quickly caught his words when he looked at his mother. It clearly looked like she was unhappy with the entire situation as well. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel worse with his “tangent.

  “Well... I'm sorry iI shouldn’t have said that,” conceded Ven. "How was the drive here?"

  Vera answered after a brief pause. “It wasn't too bad, though I didn’t really drive over here. The autopilot of these new cars are something else. The city is as gorgeous as ever.”

  "That's good to hear," said Ven with a fake smile.

  "We've talked about this before, but I'd thought I ask you this again. After you feel healthy again what do you want to do then?" asked Vera.

  It was like she was begging for his answer to be different. “Well... if health issues are really behind me, then I'm going to try to become a superhero... somehow."

  "Vendel," Vera began, her tone now tinged with disappointment. "We've talked about this. Is it really good for a man to try to become a superhero after receiving a heart transplant? And besides, the tenth _Emergence_ happened years ago, there probably won't ever be another one."

  Nobody really understood how Emergences worked. They just… happened. One moment the world was normal, and the next, a weird shimmering barrier would appear—sometimes over a park, sometimes an entire city block. It’d last maybe a few seconds, then vanish like it was never there.

  But the people inside? They came out different. Powered. Changed.

  No one knew where these strange Emergences came from. Some blamed secret government projects, while others swore it had to be aliens. A few just called it magic and left it at that. Whatever the truth was, by the time the twentieth Emergence hit, thousands of people had gained supernatural abilities. Individuals with these superpowers were called _emergees._ When emergees first appeared, all of the world’s governments were gasping with confusion. They went from trying to hide their existence, to telling everyone the truth when they could no longer be hidden.

  Unfortunately, getting superpowers didn’t automatically make someone a hero. While many emergees stepped up to protect others, others used their abilities to cause harm and widespread panic. Essentially, Emergences gave birth to both superheroes and supervillains. With numerous supervillains, crime spiked and cities got nervous. Eventually, governments around the world began passing laws that required superheroes to register in order to legally use their powers in public. Breaking those laws could lead to serious consequences.

  Ven knew his mom was probably right. It had been almost five years since the last Emergence—the longest gap anyone had ever seen. Odds were, another one wasn’t coming anytime soon. And even if it did, what were the chances he’d be in the right place at the right time? They weren’t exactly easy to pinpoint. Still, he clung to the hope that there might be a way for him to become a superhero… even if it didn’t make any logical sense. He believed that if he gained superpowers, all of his pain… all of his agony would finally be gone.

  "I know mom, it's just... what I've wanted to do since I was a little kid. If this brand new heart inside me doesn't fail me, then I want to find a way," explained Ven.

  “There’s no guarantee that you’ll even become a hero. Most peopled don’t. You don't want to take over the company?" asked Vera.

  "I mean... I wouldn't mind that, but I'd much rather be a superhero," said Ven.

  Vera took a deep breath. "You just had a heart transplant and you're talking about becoming a superhero!? Do you even realize what superheroes really go through? Even if you gained superpowers, your body probably couldn't even handle all of that! I'm sorry Vendel, but... I don't think it's ever going to happen."

  Vera ceased speaking when she noticed Ven's crestfallen face.

  "I'm sorry. I'm just really worried about you," said Vera.

  "I know mom," frowned Ven as he turned on his smartphone.

  Before he could browse through more blogs, Doctor Tiba walked into the room.

  "Why if it isn't Ms. Nguvu! It's always a pleasure to see you here. You're looking great!” Doctor Tiba smiled.

  "Thank you doctor. Do you have any updates?" asked Vera.

  Ven's sick heart dropped to his stomach, upon seeing Doctor Tiba. He was grateful to doctors, but seeing any of them launched his anxiety into outer space. Those white coats really made his bones shake.

  "Well, I don't have any today, I just came to personally ask how much pain you're in today Vendel. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.” Doctor Tiba explained.

  "Uh... I guess my chest doesn't really hurt too bad today. I’d say I'm at probably a three out of ten.” The physical pain wasn't the main problem, it was the emotional turmoil and the fear of things possibly getting worse again.

  "I see. You’re vitals aren’t looking that bad either but we’ll play it safer after the machines beeped today. I’m scheduling another echocardiogram in the morning. There doesn't appear to be any extreme complications at this moment, but another echocardiogram will give us a more in-depth look," explained the doctor.

  Echocardiograms were terrifying, he wished he didn't have to have one ever again but what choice did he have?

  "Okay, Doctor," said Ven, trying to hide his fear.

  Afterwards, the doctor left and Ven was alone in the room with his mother once again. She didn't talk a lot at that moment. She was seated on a chair, looking somberly out the window.

  Ven began to browse social media once more. He didn't expect to come across anything of interest until he stumbled upon a cryptic post on a superhero blog site he frequently followed.

  "I know a guy. The twenty-first emergence is coming!"

  Ven's heart raced with excitement, and he nearly dropped his phone. Was this guy just telling lies? Could another emergence truly be on the horizon? Could this be his chance to change his life forever?