Earlier in the day, I had casually informed Aunt Grace that I’d be spending the night at a friend’s house, ensuring she wouldn’t worry or bombard me with questions the next morning. It was a simple, foolproof plan, but also a necessity—I didn’t need her digging for details I wasn’t ready to share.
The morning greeted me with the soft, ridiculous comfort of Jade’s bed—a far cry from the sad excuse for a mattress I had at home. For a fleeting moment, I considered the idea of buying one like it, only to dismiss the idea immediately. Aunt Grace would take one look at it and assume I’d taken up bank robbery or something equally dramatic to afford such a luxury.
I shifted slightly, turning my head to where Jade lay beside me, still fast asleep.
Her face, peaceful and slightly smushed against the pillow, was framed by strands of hair that refused to stay neat. She was curled at an awkward angle that couldn’t have been comfortable, but somehow, she looked absurdly adorable. How did someone manage to look this cute while drooling? Okay, she wasn’t actually drooling—thank God—but the thought amused me nonetheless.
As I watched her, her eyelids fluttered, and she began to stir. Half-awake, she reached for my arm, tugging it gently until her head rested against it. Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, stared up at me, the corners of her mouth twitching into a soft yawn.
“Stop staring,” she mumbled, her voice muffled as she nuzzled closer.
For a second, I was caught off guard. Seriously? The kettle calling the pot black? Despite the thought, a smile was already forming on my lips. “You’re the one who won’t stop clinging to me, but sure, let’s blame me for staring.” I retorted.
She hummed in response, the sound soft and lazy, before burying her face deeper into me. Then, just as I started to relax, she tilted her head and tried to bite me.
“Hey!” I yelped, jerking back instinctively, though I couldn’t move far without toppling off the bed. But the mighty and arrogant dragon had already returned, its claws (which felt suspiciously like delicate fingers) wrapped firmly around my neck. It loomed over me, silver eyes gleaming with predatory delight, like a villain discovering a new, shiny toy to torment. The grin on its face was absolutely wicked. I couldn’t decide if I was genuinely in trouble or just hopelessly amused.
Before I could formulate a plan to escape, she lunged at my face with a playful ferocity that sent shivers down my spine.
One peck. Two pecks. Four. Nine. Twenty. Fifty.
“Stop! Stop! Stop! I can’t breathe!” I managed to sputter in protest, lying utterly defenseless beneath her relentless assault of kisses.
Every laugh or protest I tried to make was drowned out by her delighted giggles and the unmistakable sound of victory in her voice. I was pinned, overrun, hopelessly outmatched by her mischievous onslaught. Finally, the ferocious dragon paused, shedding its fierce demeanor and revealing the adorable girl underneath. Her smile stretched wide, radiating pure, uncontainable joy—the kind of joy that could make even the brightest morning sunlight seem dull.
“Hehehe,” she giggled, landing another peck on my cheek, which was already sore from her affection. “When I was sleeping, I dreamed you were just a figment of my imagination.”
Another giggle bubbled up, and she leaned in to plant yet another kiss—just because she could. “But imagine my surprise when I woke up and saw you staring at me like that.” Her words carried a softness buried under the giggles and kisses. One more peck followed, and for a fleeting moment, I could feel the lingering fear behind her confession. Maybe, deep down, she was worried that this—us—might somehow be too good to be real.
My face was thoroughly covered in her spit by now. Ugh! I groaned internally, though I couldn''t really bring myself to mind. Still, this arrogant dragon needed teaching a lesson.
I suddenly wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Gotcha!” I announced — the arrogant dragon needed humbling before its arrogance grew any further – flipping her onto her back as she squeaked in surprise. The dragon immediately sensed danger and began squirming, her mock desperation surprisingly convincing. “No! Let me go!” she cried, but I held firm. The arrogant dragon needed humbling before its ego grew out of control.
Now it was my turn. I launched a counter-attack of kisses, swift and unrelenting, until she surrendered—or so it seemed. Her squirming slowed, giving way to soft, breathless laughter as she clutched at me in defeat. But something wasn’t right.
I paused, narrowing my eyes. The supposedly defeated dragon looked far too pleased with itself, its grin sly and far too calculated for someone who’d just lost a battle.
Suspicious, my gaze shifted briefly to the stuffed T-Rex perched on her bed. Its button eyes seemed to be smirking at me knowingly, like it was privy to some inside joke I wasn’t in on.
Had I fallen into a trap? Was this all part of her plan?
The dragon giggled again, its silver eyes gleaming with mischief, and I realized the truth. The arrogant dragon was indeed far shrewder than I had realized. She’d played me. This was no surrender—this was a carefully orchestrated victory disguised as defeat.
As I was lost in thought, Jade shifted, propping herself up slightly. Her silver hair spilled around us like a shimmering curtain, framing her face in a way that made the air feel just a little thinner. Her eyes found mine, and the intensity in her gaze made my heart skip a beat, like she was reading some secret part of my soul I hadn’t meant to reveal.
Then, with absolutely no warning and a tone that could only be described as accusatory, she broke the silence.
“You’re thinking something weird again.”
Weird? Weird! What did she even mean by weird? I hadn’t thought of anything remotely weird! Well… maybe. But it wasn’t that weird. Either way, I denied it fiercely in my mind, keeping my outward expression calm and composed.
“Not weird,” I replied smoothly, my tone soft. “Just thinking about how cute and adorable you are.”
Her reaction was immediate—and deeply satisfying. Her face flushed a brilliant shade of pink, the mighty, all-powerful dragon instantly shrinking into a flustered, shy girl. She froze for a heartbeat, her wide eyes betraying a mix of shock and embarrassment. Then, with a sound that could only be described as a muffled squeak, she dove down, burying her face into her fluffy blanket like it was the only escape from the world.
“You can’t just say things like that…” she mumbled inside, her voice muffled but tinged with a mix of bashfulness and protest.
A soft laugh slipped out before I could stop myself. “Why not?” She didn’t respond, though I could feel her grip tightening slightly and she buried herself deeper in the layers.
The mighty and arrogant dragon was, for now, completely under control.
<hr>
The three weeks passed peacefully—quiet, uneventful, and without any immediate trouble looming on the horizon.
My search for a sorcerer, however, had hit a frustrating dead end. Despite my efforts, I had made little to no progress. Adding to the mix, the lottery check had finally cleared into my bank account, causing my balance to swell like an overfed balloon. Seeing those numbers brought a surprising sense of contentment, a warmth that settled deep in my chest. For once, something felt secure, even if everything else remained uncertain.
The only thorn in this otherwise tranquil stretch was Jade. She’d started pestering me—relentlessly—about going villain hunting again. To her, it wasn’t just a necessity; it was a thrill, a game where she was the apex predator, eager to seek out her prey, toy with it, and destroy it when the time came. The problem was, I knew she could. If Jade ever used her full meta nature, I doubted there’d be anyone in the city who could stand against her. What more, to this day, I still didn’t know what her primary meta was, and the mystery only added to my unease.
But it wasn’t just her power that worried me. It was her attitude toward it.
Her enthusiasm for violence made my stomach turn.
I didn’t like it.
She didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate, didn’t even blink when she killed villains.
But at the end of the day, they were still human—just like us. Flawed, yes, but human nonetheless. And if she kept going down this path, I feared she’d lose something vital, something that made her so uniquely herself. The empathy and innocence that still lingered within her, no matter how buried, might be snuffed out entirely. The worst part was, she didn’t seem to grasp the danger of what she was doing. Not just the danger to others, but the danger to herself. She thought she was untouchable, invincible, but I knew better. If she went too far, there’d come a day when the weight of her actions would hit her all at once. And by then, it might already be too late. She might be too far gone to save.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I needed to figure out a way to steer her away from that abyss, to ground her before she became something she’d later despise.
“North, your friend is here.”
Aunt Grace’s loud voice from downstairs broke through my thoughts, yanking me out of my quiet moment of peace.
“Let him come upstairs,” I called back with a sigh. Who else could it be but my self-proclaimed number-one fan, Leo Jupiter? I really had no one to blame but myself—showing off to him that first day was like giving a stray cat a bowl of milk. Ever since then, he’d made it his mission to show up at my house almost daily.
Still, I couldn’t stay annoyed with him. Leo was a good kid, despite his slightly chaotic energy and unfortunate knack for invading my personal space. His mother wasn’t around, and his dad, a cop, seemed to think fatherhood was a part-time gig. Somehow, though, Leo hadn’t turned into one of those insufferable attention-starved brats who caused trouble for kicks.
“What’s up!” Leo shouted as he barged unceremoniously into my room. I winced at his overly energetic entrance. He grabbed the extra chair in the corner, rolled it over, and plopped down next to me without hesitation.
“How was the academy?” he asked, his tone brimming with curiosity and excitement. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
No one taught him about others'' personal space. I pushed his chair away with my feet, and scanned him. At least offer me a bribe to spill the details, I thought. Did he think I was some benevolent saint eager to share my every thought for free?
“Nothing you should be concerned about,” I replied plainly, keeping my focus on the song playing through my headphones.
Leo blinked at me, unbothered, and leaned back in his chair like we were in the middle of some casual afternoon chat. Meanwhile, I turned my attention to my tea, brewed by Fae. It had the subtle bitterness of green tea, the kind that was somehow both calming and satisfying. A small part of me couldn’t help but marvel at how effective it seemed—I felt calmer already, more focused. Or maybe I just liked the idea of drinking something that made me feel like a sophisticated adult.
“You know, you should help your friend out,” Leo grumbled, crossing his arms as if that would make his argument more compelling.
Oh, wow—friends all of a sudden? I was speechless for a moment, then turned my gaze toward him, side-eyeing him slowly.
“Tell me,” I said flatly, locking eyes with Leo. “Do your friends call you a nerd at school?”
The question hit its mark. Leo’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he snapped back, “You look like a nerd!”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “What are you, fourteen?” I asked mockingly, though the answer was obvious—I knew he was fourteen.
What struck me, though, was how different he seemed compared to most kids his age. I’d seen plenty of them around—on the streets, on trains, in parks. Most of them acted and dressed like they were trying to skip adolescence entirely, jumping straight into adulthood. Leo wasn’t like that. He still had that awkward, unpolished energy of a kid figuring himself out. Still, there was no denying it: Leo was a nerd. And not just a casual, undercover nerd—a classic, fully certified one. Hopefully, he had some friends who appreciated his quirks. Then again, nerds seemed to be in demand these days. Maybe he was thriving. Maybe he even had a girlfriend—or two. Stranger things had happened.
“How’s your portfolio coming together?” I asked, steering the conversation before he could throw another middle-school insult my way.
Leo’s confident front faltered, and he slouched a bit in his chair. “It’s hard,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. “I haven’t caught anything significant yet—just a few pickpockets at the market. It’s too weak. Do you think Beyonder’s Academy would count thieves like that?”
I frowned slightly, unsure how to respond. Truthfully, I had no idea what Beyonder’s Academy looked for in candidates. I was a backdoor student myself. It felt like asking a beggar for advice on becoming a king—an absurd question bound to lead to disappointment.
Leo’s tone softened as he leaned forward, practically pleading. “Dude, can you help me a little? Just share a few secrets. If I could catch something bigger, I might have a shot at qualifying for the entrance exam.”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “It doesn’t work like that,” I said firmly.
How could I tell him the truth? Without an extraordinary meta nature, he’d never even make it past the first round of tests. The academy wasn’t a place for ordinary kids, no matter how determined or resourceful they were. But I couldn’t bring myself to crush his dreams outright. Better to let him down gently than leave him shattered.
“You’ve got potential, Leo,” I said after a moment, my tone softer. “But you’ve got to figure out your angle. If you keep chasing what you think they want to see, you’ll burn out. Focus on what makes you stand out.”
I locked eyes with Leo and raised an eyebrow. “Besides, what does your dad have to say about you running around trying to catch villains?”
Leo shrugged nonchalantly, as if the question had never occurred to him. “He has to know first,” he replied, completely unfazed.
I blinked, stunned by the casualness of his confession. “Oh, my! Another secret!” I muttered, shaking my head in mock disbelief. “What would you do if you actually got hurt while catching a villain?”
Leo turned his head toward the door, his confidence faltering for just a moment. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quieter, almost sheepish.
I sighed, exasperated but unable to ignore the determination in his voice. “Fine,” I finally said. “I’ll help you.”
Leo’s face lit up like a firework, a wide grin spreading across his face as he practically vibrated with excitement. His constant pestering from the last three weeks finally seemed to bear some fruits. I sighed inwardly. Maybe I’d regret this decision, but leaving him to fumble around unsupervised was worse. What if he provoked the wrong kind of "villain"? Someone unfriendly enough to kill him in a back alley? His death wouldn’t affect me personally, but it would weigh heavily on my conscience.
Leo sprang out of the chair, almost bouncing. “Should we go now?” he asked, his eagerness practically spilling over.
“Let’s wait,” I replied, leaning back and forth in my chair. “We’ve still got plenty of time before the academy qualification opens for you to submit your portfolio.”
“But we can’t just sit around and wait!” Leo rebuked, his voice carrying a tone of urgency. “It’s always better to catch a few more villains. After all, everyone says: the more, the better!”
I clicked my tongue in annoyance, tapping my foot against the floor. Why was everyone in my life so impatient? First Jade, now Leo. Maybe it wasn’t them—maybe I was the one tired of always running, of constantly being dragged into other people’s frantic energy.
“Fine,” I said at last, throwing my hands up in defeat. “We’ll go out when I’m free this week.”
Leo’s grin somehow grew even wider, and he gave me a sharp nod, his enthusiasm unchecked. “Thanks, North! You’re the best!”
I wasn’t entirely convinced that helping Leo was the best idea, but I knew one thing: if I didn’t keep an eye on him, he’d inevitably land himself in trouble. On the bright side, having Leo around might teach Jade something about the difference between good and bad—or at least keep her occupied. Plus, with him in tow, I wouldn’t have to actively search for dangerous places to entertain her.
As the thought settled, I couldn’t help but sigh. Unknowingly, I had somehow ended up raising two troubled kids.
One was too eager to catch villains, and the other... well, I wasn’t even sure if Jade cared about catching them as much as she did while toying with them.
She was more villainous than any villain I had seen.
<hr>
Meanwhile, life at the academy continued to be as boring as ever. Being a first-year student meant we were stuck in an endless loop of theory lessons. Every day was a slog of learning, note-taking, and struggling to stay awake—rinse and repeat—with little to no hands-on practice. The only practical class we had was self-defense, and even that felt like a chore. It was less about actual skill-building and more about going through the motions while the instructors barked instructions like we were in boot camp.
Once a week—or whenever the academy decided to “mix things up”—they brought in retired local heroes to give us lectures. In theory, it was supposed to be inspiring. In practice, these sessions were just long-winded talks about the same tired topics: the problems of metahuman society, intergalactic political disputes, and the ever-raging wars on different systems.
It wasn’t that these issues weren’t important—they were. But when you’re sitting in a dark lecture hall, listening to someone drone on about galactic diplomacy, it’s hard not to zone out and start wondering what you’ll have for dinner instead. Every time I walked into one of those sessions, I came out more exhausted than I was going in.
“Fucking hell, that was long,” Vinico muttered as we dashed out of yet another mind-numbing lecture.
Rarely did I feel a sense of camaraderie with him, but this was one of those moments. For once, it felt like we were on the exact same wavelength.
“I think my life was more interesting before I joined the academy,” Gina chimed in from the side, her tone dripping with boredom. “Nowadays, I’m not even sure what’s fun anymore.”
She wasn’t wrong. Life had started to feel like a monotonous cycle, endlessly repeating itself.
It was hard not to think back to the days—long before our time—when metahumans were rare. Three hundred years ago, everything about powers felt new and electric. The novelty of abilities made the world sharper, more vibrant. There was a clear distinction between heroes, superheroes, and villains, and every new discovery felt like something extraordinary. But now? Metahumans were as common as cabbages in a grocery store, their powers as unremarkable as having brown eyes or black hair. What once had been awe-inspiring now felt mundane, a part of everyday life that barely turned heads.
The old, stark lines between good and evil had blurred into countless shades of gray, leaving behind an uneasy balance. Even with supernatural abilities, society couldn’t afford to collapse into chaos. We might have evolved beyond normal human limitations, but we couldn’t escape the need for structure—the fragile scaffolding that kept us from devolving into violent primates with fancier toys.
As always, humanity adapted. Traditional jobs disappeared, replaced by new professions tailored to handle the realities of a powered populace.
The insurance industry was perhaps the most obvious example. Companies now employed meta analysts with meta abilities to calculate risks of everything from property damage by telekinetics to reality distortion claims. They had entire departments dedicated to "Act of Meta" coverage, and premium rates varied based on the concentration of powerful meta users in your area.
The legal system had evolved too. Courts now required meta-sensing judges who could detect power usage in their courtrooms. Legal precedents had been established for everything from accidental reality warping to consciousness transference. Murder trials became particularly complex when dealing with body-swapping abilities or temporal manipulation.
Architecture and urban planning had undergone complete revolutions. Modern buildings needed to account for flying individuals, teleporters, and strength-enhanced humans. Public spaces included designated zones for power usage, while sensitive areas incorporated meta-dampening technology. Even simple things like traffic laws had been rewritten to account for aerial travel and teleportation.
The education system where we now sat had perhaps changed most dramatically. Schools weren''t just teaching reading and arithmetic anymore - they had to prepare students for a world where physics could be bent and reality could be reshaped. Career counselors needed to understand thousands of different meta abilities and their potential applications. Safety protocols had to account for everything from emotional meta abilities affecting classroom dynamics to reality-bending powers accidentally rewriting test answers.
In the end, the extraordinary had become mundane, and with that transformation, something intangible had been lost. The wonder had faded, replaced by a collective sense of "is this it?" that seemed to permeate every aspect of life.
And here we sat, products of this evolved society, dragging ourselves through lectures that felt as uninspiring as the cycle we were trapped in. Even in a world where people could bend reality and reshape probability, somehow we''d managed to make it boring.
“I think I’ll be heading home now, guys,” Henry announced, raising his hand like a kid asking for permission to leave class.
“Me too,” Gina chimed in immediately, her voice dragging with exhaustion.
I glanced at Lore, who had been unusually quiet until now, her gaze fixed on the floor. She seemed lost in thought, her brows slightly furrowed. After a moment, she looked up, her expression unreadable. “You guys want to do something fun?” she asked, her voice carrying an odd energy that immediately put me on edge.
“Duh!” Alex replied enthusiastically, completely oblivious to the undertone of her question.
“I have some ideas,” Lore said, her voice steady—too steady—and calm. Too calm.
“Do tell, m’lady,” Henry teased, turning to her with a lazy grin.
Lore’s lips curved into a slight smile. “We can go camping,” she began, “or scavenger hunting.”
Vinico groaned immediately, flopping back in his seat. “That’s just normal stuff. What’s fun about that?”
“At least let me finish,” Lore snapped, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “What I mean by camping is we each infiltrate a villain group and see how far we can go before getting caught—or dismantling them.”
Her words dropped like a bomb in the middle of the group, the silence that followed punctuated only by the collective sucking in of breath.
But Lore wasn’t done.
“As for scavenger hunting,” she continued, her tone so casual it was almost unnerving, “we hunt as many villains as we can within a set time and see who comes out on top.”
I stared at her, my mouth slightly open, unable to fully process what I’d just heard. Was she serious? Of course she was serious—this was Lore.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jade. Her eyes were practically glowing with excitement. like a predator spotting its next prey.
At that moment, something clicked. I finally understood what it truly meant to be a student of Beyonder’s Academy. These weren’t just ambitious, talented individuals. No, this place was a magnet for lunatics—each of them walking a razor’s edge and each with a loose screw rattling around in their heads. The academy didn’t just hand-pick talented individuals; it seemed to attract the power-hungry, the reckless, and the outright insane. If this was what it took to belong here, then everyone was walking a fine line between brilliance and madness.
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
I need to distance myself from these people before things spiral completely out of control…