And just like that... the broken building was whole again.
Fixed.
Erased.
Like nothing had ever happened.
The courtyard between Buildings D and E bustled with students again. The jagged wreckage from that night was gone. Not even a crack in the pavement remained. The academy's tech division had scrubbed the mess clean with alarming efficiency—drones, repair bots, reconstructive nanite gel. And obviously with the help of some quirks.
Cameras?
Glitched.
Sensors?
Static.
Alarms?
Never even buzzed.
A week later, they stopped the investigation. No press release. No deeper inquiry. Just a quiet note posted in the academy hall:
“No definitive cause located.
No known parties involved.
Incident logged as Structural Malfunction, Class 2.
Reconstruction complete.
Resume standard schedule.”
And that was that.
No one suspected Jack.
Not even for a second.
He wasn't invisible—just unimportant. Unremarkable. The boy who always came in last. The quiet one in the back. That pale-eyed kid with shaggy black hair who mumbled when he was called on and never spoke unless he had to.
You don’t question the ghost in the room.
You just forget he’s there.
Mid-October.
Another round of evaluations.
Every few weeks, the academy threw the freshman class into a storm of tests—power control modules, emergency simulations, written exams, theoretical field tactics. Students hated it, but they also lived for it. Rankings could shift with each round. Alliances formed. Rivalries ignited.
Jack’s name never moved.
- Always 60.
A few people commented on it now and then—mostly with pity, or a bored laugh.
“Dude’s like allergic to effort.”
“Is he even trying?”
“He’s like... a janitor who snuck into a hero school.”
But that was all.
No real interest.
No real threat.
A body with no soul.
In the test hall, Jack sat at a desk near the back, the glow of his wristband illuminating the current time left on the exam:
03:27
He stared down at the tablet in front of him. A full page of scenario-based questions blinked back.
Scenario 14: A villain has taken hostages in a collapsed parking structure. Several exits are compromised. Civilian vitals are dropping.
What is the optimal response path for a solo hero with a limited mobility quirk?
He knew the answer.
He knew it.
He’d read about this in one of the villain profiles from two weeks ago. The pattern of hostage-taking, the trap setup, the decoy strategies. He even remembered the variant where the villain wanted a hero to use the most logical route so they could rig a collapse.
He could map it all in his mind.
The right answer burned at his fingertips.
But he didn’t tap it.
Instead, he selected the wrong one.
Deliberately.
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Forcefully.
Like shoving glass into his own hand.
He closed his eyes.
If I change the balance...
If I move from the bottom...
...what happens next?...
The question rang in his head.
He couldn’t answer it.
So he didn’t.
He kept quiet. Kept still. Kept last place.
That incident is still in is head.
“What if that happens again?”
“What if I hurt someone?”
“What if I kill someone?”
I can’t let those emotions come forth again!
…………
Later that day, Ethan sat with a can of synth-coffee in the quad, eyes scanning the path where Jack normally shuffled by.
He didn’t show.
Ava joined a few minutes later, dropping her tray next to him and flopping down with a groan.
“Yo. You see ‘Mr. Zombie’ lately?”
Ethan shrugged. “Same as always. Library. Class. Room. Repeat.”
“He ever talk to you anymore?”
He hesitated. “Not really.”
Ava chewed the edge of her straw for a second. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “We already taked about this but….I said some stuff last month. Like, mean stuff. Too mean. And I dunno... I usually don’t care. But it’s starting to feel like... I dunno. Like maybe I broke something.”
“You didn’t.”
Ava glanced at Ethan.
He didn’t look back.
He just stared off into the quad like he was watching something nobody else could see.
“You didn’t break him,” Ethan murmured.
“I guess the world did……or the world was already broken, Jack just wasn’t able to live in it.”
No more was said after, and Ethan just kept looking into oblivion, while sipping his drink.
In the evening, Jack stood in the hallway outside the library, staring at his reflection in the glass panel.
His eyes didn’t look like his anymore.
There was something deeper in them now. Something quieter. Like a still lake that had swallowed a thousand bodies.
He wasn’t sad.
He wasn’t angry.
He wasn’t anything.
He was just... there.
He stepped inside. Took his usual seat. Pulled another book from the Villain Psychology section.
His fingers trembled as they turned the page.
And for the first time...
He didn’t read to understand.
He read to feel less alone.
Like he could relate.
………..
Autumn had really rolled in with gray skies and colder mornings, the kind that made steel hallways feel sharper, emptier. And in the glass-and-metal echo chamber of Homeroom B-1, the buzzing in the classroom had already faded by the time the teacher tapped the holographic screen, announcing the upcoming assignment.
GROUP TACTICS SIMULATION PROJECT: Assigned Pairs
"Academic project. Pair work. You’ll be graded not just on accuracy—but synergy, presentation, and theoretical application."
Groans followed. A few enthusiastic nods. Some smirks.
Jack didn’t react. He sat in the back, hoodie pulled up, cheek half-resting against the crook of his hand. His eyes looked blank. Haunted. Like something inside had checked out weeks ago, and all that was left was the ghost of a student who moved when told.
Ethan turned around and leaned over to him, whispering:
“Yo, I swear to God, if I get paired with Ava, I’m transferring schools.” Trying to get a reaction out of Jack.
But Jack didn’t respond.
His eyes baggy and with no color.
Dead
“...” Ethan thought about talking again, but didn’t, just bit his lips and turned around .
A few giggles scattered through the room as names started to flash. Pairs formed across the board in a randomized shuffle. Ava cursed loudly.
And then—
Elena Ivascu – Jack Taylor
The moment was followed by a beat of silence, then an audible: “...What the hell?”
Elena’s voice cut through the classroom like a blade snapping out of its sheath. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, blade-like nails tapping against the desk in rapid succession. Her sharp and piercing black eyes scanned the room until they landed on Jack.
He didn’t even flinch.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, mostly to herself, though loud enough for anyone near her to hear.
“No way,” someone chuckled.
“She’s gonna kill him.”
“She doesn’t even talk to people, now she’s got to work with him?”
“Yo, that’s basically community service.”
Jack blinked once. Twice. Then slowly looked up at the board like the name wasn’t real.
Elena - tall compared to most, long silver hair and black eyes, contrast to the pale smooth skin, she has Blade Phase - Can morph limbs into blades and armor like reinforcement — sleek, aggressive style. She’s part russian as it seems.
He remembers a 1v1 they had, it didn’t go so well for his part.
“Pair work starts this week,” the teacher continued. “You have four class periods to work on it, in and out of class. Presentations in two weeks. Topic: Conflict Resolution Models in Heroic Frameworks. Choose your case by tomorrow.”
When the bell rang, the chatter exploded—students already breaking into circles, laughing, complaining, plotting ideas.
Jack moved slowly. He didn’t rush to pack. There was no one to talk to, no one to catch up with. His world was always a second behind everyone else’s now.
Elena didn’t walk up to him—she arrived.
She stood beside his desk like she was facing down a mission briefing she didn’t sign up for. Arms crossed, eyes sharp, annoyance practically radiating off her like heat from metal.
“Hey. You hear that?”
Jack didn’t look at her. Just nodded once.
“I’m not doing all the work.”
“Sure.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You really piss me off with that atitude.”
He still didn’t meet her gaze. “Library. Back table. Tonight.” With a monotone as if Jack was asleep.
Elena raised a brow. “8PM I’ll be there, dont waste my time”
Jack didn’t react, he just stood up, slid his bag over his shoulder and walked past her, slow and silent, like a ghost drifting out the room. She watched him for a second longer than expected, then clicked her tongue and turned the other way.
When Jack only seeks peace and quiet, the world trows a grenade at him, a unusual pair was formed, like fire and ice.
And the only worry Jack has…
Is not the project.
Not even who he’s paired with.
“What happens if I let my emotions take ahold of me again?”