Together with Instructor Harren, Samuel walked into a narrow alleyway in New York. There, they had sushi that tasted almost divine, and Samuel ate until he was completely stuffed.

  Harren gave him a few surprised looks as he practically inhaled his food, but Samuel couldn’t resist challenging him with a walrus impression. By the third time, the old man finally cracked a smile.

  “We need to go,” Harren said as he returned from paying the bill. “The plane’s ready.”

  They hurried to a taxi, which took them straight to the airport. Samuel expected they’d have to check in somewhere, but that turned out to be unnecessary. There was a dedicated section for heroes. At the terminal, their luggage was taken—well, Harren’s luggage. Samuel had only his book and flat-out refused to give it up.

  Together, they walked toward a private jet with the Valcroy Academy logo on the side. Harren stepped in first and sank into a seat with a deep sigh.

  “Long day.”

  Samuel nodded silently and sat down.

  He had never flown before, and now his first time would be in a private jet, with a man he barely knew. He had always imagined his first flight would be with friends—laughter, excitement, maybe a little chaos.

  But you don’t always get what you want.

  The moment the door sealed shut, the plane began to move.

  “Hero flights always get priority,” Harren noted. “Explaining why a hero is in a hurry takes time, so they just let us go, no questions asked.”

  Samuel nodded, watching out the window as the sun dipped below the skyline.

  “Where are we heading? What way is Valcroy at?” he asked seriously.

  For the first time, Harren looked at him with something almost gentle. “We’re heading west for an hour, then further south,” he said.

  He hesitated before adding, “The school is in a beautiful place. You’re going to do well there, Samuel.”

  Samuel sank deeper into his seat, eyes still fixed on the view outside.

  That’s when he felt it.

  Somewhere along the way, Lynn had silently slipped his phone and earbuds back into the pocket of his hoodie.

  A small smile crept onto his face.

  He wouldn’t be alone at Valcroy.

  He already knew Lynn.

  He pulled out his phone, slipped in his earbuds, and played Heroes by Peter Gabriel.

  A good song. One that always made him think of his parents.

  "You can be a hero, just for one day."

  Maybe his parents hadn’t been Heroes—not the kind with a capital H. Maybe they were just ordinary people.

  But that one day, when they protected him—on that day, they were.

  Same story as Harry Potter, he realized suddenly. Dead parents. No friends until he went to a special school. Maybe there was even a Voldemort lurking somewhere in his world.

  The flight took longer than he expected, but eventually, a firm hand rested on his shoulder.

  Samuel looked up at the old man and pulled out his earbuds.

  "Look," Harren said. "There it is."

  Before him, a school unfolded like nothing he had ever seen.

  Massive buildings stretched across the land, scattered like a city of its own. Lights glowed from windows, silhouettes moved through hallways and across courtyards. People roamed the campus, powers flashing in the night. In one area, flames shot into the air. Somewhere else, light flickered in strange, rhythmic patterns.

  So much was happening. He could only begin to guess at the possibilities.

  A small smile tugged at his lips.

  "We’re here," he said, a mix of relief and excitement in his voice.

  Harren nodded. "We’re here."

  Once they landed, Harren walked alongside Samuel toward the school.

  They passed through a massive, rounded doorway. As Samuel stepped inside, he looked up and spun halfway around, taking it in.

  The door felt… grand. Like a threshold between two worlds. As if everything beyond this point would change.

  They entered the arrival hall.

  It was surprisingly quiet. On the wide staircase leading upward, students in uniform sat, chatting in small groups. Dark red, simple but functional. A design that seemed ready for anything—fighting? Check. Studying? Check. Just wandering around? Also check.

  Harren gave Samuel a firm look. “Time to head to your dorm. Your uniform is waiting there. Put it on, then go to the first-year assembly hall. You’ll have some time to settle before lights out. Today is an exception since you’re all new.”

  A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes held something more dangerous now.

  “But tomorrow, training begins. And then, it gets serious. Tonight, lights out at midnight.”

  Samuel widened his eyes dramatically and nodded solemnly. “Of course, my lord.” He saluted like a soldier. “One last question! Where is my dorm?”

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  Harren sighed, but there was the faintest flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Good question, Sero. Follow the signs. They’ll guide you.”

  Samuel nodded in understanding and started walking in the direction Harren had pointed.

  Just as he said, a sign marked "First-Year Dormitories" hung overhead. He followed it obediently, eyes sweeping over the halls as he walked.

  Everywhere, lounge areas were scattered between corridors, small groups of students chatting or unwinding.

  The place felt alive.

  At some point, he passed through a connecting corridor into another building attached to the main structure.

  This section felt quieter. Almost abandoned compared to the energy he had just left behind. The atmosphere shifted, like he was being pulled deeper into the academy.

  When he reached a hallway lined with dorm rooms, he started scanning the doors, searching for his name. The corridor was short and curved left.

  And then, finally, he saw it.

  "Samuel Sero, 11."

  He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  His room was bigger and more luxurious than he had expected. A comfortable bed. His own shower and toilet. A massive TV mounted on the wall, with a game console waiting beneath it.

  It was almost impossible to process.

  Yesterday, he had been sleeping under a bridge.

  And now, this.

  But something gnawed at him.

  This was incredible—everything he could’ve hoped for—but he had no one to share it with.

  The thought lingered for only a second before pure joy took over.

  He walked to the closet, pulled on his uniform, and immediately felt how well it fit.

  A small smile tugged at his lips.

  Time for the assembly hall.

  Finding it was easy; the signs guided him without issue. At the entrance to the building stood a massive door leading into the hall.

  He pushed it open slowly, aware that he was probably the last one to arrive.

  Still, he stepped forward with quiet determination.

  This was a new beginning.

  The room buzzed with life.

  Everywhere, people his age were talking, laughing, socializing. Samuel’s gaze swept across the crowd, pausing briefly on the loudest group—the ones already making jokes, eager to prove themselves.

  Further in, he spotted the elitists, the students who had gotten in through money and connections. They stood together, speaking with an air of importance.

  One of them stood out.

  Like a planet with moons orbiting around him, the others hovered close, drawn into his gravity.

  A quiet voice spoke beside him.

  “Hartogen Lockwood. Son of Arthur Lockwood, once one of the biggest names in the hero world. Elitist brat.”

  Samuel turned to the speaker.

  The boy himself looked pretty elitist—perfect posture, chin slightly lifted, eyes carrying the weight of someone who thought he already knew everything. He extended a hand.

  “Elias Mercer,” he said, as if that name alone should impress him.

  Samuel shrugged and shook his hand. “Samuel Sero.”

  Elias gave a cool glance toward Lockwood. “If I were you, I’d avoid him. Not a great guy.”

  Samuel would decide for himself who was worth his time. He simply nodded and walked on without another word.

  And then—

  He saw her.

  Lynn.

  Sitting alone at a table, eyes locked on her tablet, fingers flying across the screen as she entered data at lightning speed.

  Samuel quickened his pace, mouth already opening to speak—

  But Lynn beat him to it.

  “Took longer than expected. Interesting,” she said without looking up.

  Samuel grinned. “You’re like Legolas with those eyes. Maybe I’ll make that your nickname.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He smirked. “And what if I do?”

  Finally, she looked up.

  A small crack in that perfectly controlled, ice-cold fa?ade.

  The faintest trace of a smile ghosted over her lips.

  “Then I’ll make sure you fail at whatever you plan to do next.”

  Samuel widened his eyes dramatically. “Now that’s a threat.” He flopped onto the bench beside her. “So, what did I miss?”

  Lynn barely glanced up from her tablet. “Not much. The headmistress gave a speech about what it means to be a hero. Atlas stopped by and said a few words. The class got an official introduction. That was about it.” She paused. “Oh… and our instructor was apparently late.”

  Samuel rubbed the back of his neck. “That was my fault.”

  “I know.”

  “You know everything, don’t you?”

  “Not everything. Just a lot.”

  Samuel let his gaze drift across the room. A few people stood out immediately.

  A red-haired woman with cybernetic enhancements on her arms—strong, focused.

  Lockwood, of course. A walking tower, at least two meters ten, built like a tank. He stood rigid, like he had stepped straight out of a military handbook. His gaze swept over the room, sharp and calculating, as if he was analyzing weaknesses the second he saw them.

  Like a predator.

  Another guy leaned casually against the wall, his arms covered in shifting tattoos.

  Elias had already joined the elite crowd, speaking to them as if he’d belonged there all along.

  Near the loudest group, a student with dark blue hair stood out—the loudest of them all.

  So many different personalities, so many unknowns.

  Samuel wanted to know them.

  A wave of loneliness hit him.

  He already knew someone—Lynn—but it wasn’t enough.

  A deep, unexplainable need stirred in his chest. More. More friends, more connections, more meaning.

  He didn’t want to stand on the sidelines. Didn’t want to just exist.

  He wanted to be part of this.

  He had to do this right.

  “Hey Lynn, what are to—” His sentence cut off mid-word.

  Through the crowd, he saw her.

  Her hair was as dark as the night, catching the light just enough to gleam. Her clothes were immaculate—not a wrinkle, not a crease.

  She sat alone at a table, absorbed in a book.

  But she wasn’t lost in it.

  She was watching.

  Samuel saw it.

  She wasn’t just the center of the room—she moved through people’s attention without ever moving herself.

  A paradox of presence and distance.

  Still, yet undeniable.

  Unique, raw, untouchable.

  She seemed to understand everyone, yet no one understood her.

  No one dared to talk to her.

  Her gaze cut through the air like a scalpel, slicing straight through facades and pretenses.

  But Samuel?

  He understood her.

  He knew it.

  And then—

  She looked up.

  Their eyes met.

  Emerald green. Clear, almost glowing. A universe unto itself.

  It hit him like a punch to the nervous system.

  His body reacted before his mind could catch up.

  A primal voice roared inside him—her, her!

  His muscles tensed, his skin tingled, like invisible sparks danced across him. Like sandpaper scraping down his spine, painful but intoxicating.

  It burned.

  And he wanted more.

  He didn’t feel alone anymore.

  The world tilted. Time and space blurred.

  Something fundamental in him had snapped into place, as if he had been orbiting aimlessly until now—until her.

  He had a purpose.

  His heart skipped. His throat went dry.

  Heat spread through his veins.

  “Are you even listening…?” Lynn’s voice cut in beside him.

  Samuel barely heard her.

  His eyes stayed locked on the girl.

  No…

  The woman.

  She was perfect.

  "Who… who is that, Lynn?" Samuel asked, breathless.

  Lynn glanced up from her tablet, following his gaze. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if running calculations.

  Then she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t place.

  For the first time in his life, Samuel didn’t feel alone.

  Just by looking at her.

  "Who is she, Lynn?" he asked again, almost demanding now.

  Lynn sighed and shut her tablet.

  "That… that’s Raine Vallis."

  She watched him carefully before speaking again.

  "It won’t work," she said finally. "I estimate your chances at 1.4%."

  He swallowed, took a deep breath—

  And grinned.

  Not just a grin.

  A wall of willpower. Of determination. The same feeling that had pushed him to survive. The same fire that had burned when he discovered his powers.

  Inside, it wasn’t just motivation.

  It was a force. A new kind of strength.

  He would make it happen.

  No matter what.

  "Then I’ll take the 1.4%."

  ? Ruben Poelen, 2024. All rights reserved.

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