The Birth of Bubble Buster

Troy strolled down the school hallway, his hands stuffed in his pockets, still adjusting to being back. The week of recovery had been a blur of painkillers, check-ups, and his mother fretting over him like he was a fragile glass sculpture. But now, here he was—back in the jungle of teenage drama and hero gossip.

As he passed the courtyard, he spotted Annie, arms crossed, looking particularly fired up. A group of students stood around her, voices raised in heated debate. Troy didn't need to get closer to know who they were—the Nerd Club.

These guys were obsessed with heroes. They memorized every ranking, cataloged abilities, and even had theories about hero lineages. If there was an underground black market for superhero trading cards, they'd probably run it.

"You don't get it!" Annie was saying, her brown eyes blazing. "Shadow is still a hero! Who cares if he didn't graduate from Nightingale?"

"Who cares?!" a guy with thick glasses and a Nightingale Academy hoodie spluttered. "Annie, rules matter! Heroes are supposed to be trained, certified, and registered. That's how we know they won't just go rogue!"

Another member, a girl with pigtails and a hero-ranking notebook, scoffed. "He just showed up one day, doing whatever he wants. That's not how the system works."

Troy, amused, leaned against the nearby vending machine and watched as Annie fought them off.

"That doesn't mean he's not saving people," she argued. "Not every hero needs the government's stamp of approval."

"Actually, they do," Glasses retorted. "Otherwise, what's stopping villains from pretending to be heroes?"

"That's such a weak argument," Annie groaned. "Shadow has saved lives. Are you seriously saying that doesn't count because he didn't graduate from some fancy hero school?"

"That's exactly what we're saying!"

"Ugh, Troy!" Annie suddenly spotted him and waved him over. "Back me up here. You get it, right?"

Troy, still nursing the bandage on his arm, stepped forward, scratching the back of his head. "Huh… so you guys are saying that because Shadow wasn't trained by the government, he's not a real hero?"

"Exactly," Glasses said firmly.

"And you're saying it doesn't matter?" Troy looked at Annie.

"Obviously," she said.

Troy mulled it over for a second. A hero that didn't have to follow the government's rules? That sounded kinda cool. No restrictions, no oversight—just saving people in his own way.

It was dangerous, sure. But what part of being a hero wasn't?

He grinned. "Yeah, that's pretty cool."

The Nerd Club groaned in frustration. "Not you too!"

Annie pumped her fist in the air. "Ha! See? Troy gets it!"

As the argument continued, Troy's mind buzzed with an idea. Maybe he couldn't be a conventional hero. Maybe the system wouldn't accept him.

But who said he needed the system?

That night, Troy sat in his room, staring at a blank notebook page. His brain raced. If he was gonna do this, he needed a name. Something heroic. Something strong.

Something cool.

After ten minutes of brainstorming, he wrote down his final choice in bold letters:

BUBBLE BUSTER.

He nodded to himself. Yeah. That sounded awesome.

Next came the suit.

He dug through his closet, pulling out anything remotely useful. Eventually, he found an old blue hoodie, some black pants, and a cheap Halloween mask from years ago. With a little duct tape and creativity, he managed to fashion a suit.

To finish it off, he grabbed some white paint and, with careful strokes, painted BB on the chest.

Troy stepped back, admiring his work.

"Bubble Buster is born."

He paused.

"…Okay, saying it out loud feels a little lame."

Still, there was no turning back now. He grabbed his homemade costume and climbed out of his bedroom window.

Tonight, he would make his debut.

Jumping across rooftops looks easy in the movies.

Troy crouched, took a deep breath, and leaped from his roof to the next—only to barely make it. He scrambled onto the ledge, heart hammering.

"Okay," he panted. "Maybe parkour tutorials would've been a good idea."

He continued moving, albeit much slower, until he spotted something in an alley below.

A woman was backed against the wall by two guys. They weren't armed, but their body language screamed trouble.

This was it. His first crime.

He first start a recording on his phone,taking a deep breath, Troy crouched at the edge of the building, preparing to drop down like a badass hero.

Then his foot slipped.

"Oh shi—"

He plummeted straight into a dumpster.

With a loud THUD, the lid slammed shut, swallowing him whole.

For a long moment, there was silence.

Then:

"…Dude, did a hero just fall into the trash?"

Troy groaned, shoving the lid open and tumbling out onto the alley floor. A banana peel stuck to his hood.

The two criminals and the woman stared at him in stunned silence.

Troy quickly shook off the peel, straightened up, and pointed at them dramatically.

"STOP, EVIL-DOERS!"

One of the guys blinked. "Did he—did he just call us evil-doers?"

The second guy snorted. "Bro, who even says that?"

The first one laughed. "And what are you, Bubble Boy?"

Troy's eye twitched. "It's BUBBLE BUSTER."

"Yeah, okay, Bubble Boy."

He sighed. I already hate this.

The first thug lunged at him, but Troy was faster. He flicked his wrist, summoning a small bubble shield to block the punch.

The guy's fist bounced right off.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

Troy grinned. "Surprise, loser."

He expanded the bubble, slamming it into the guy's chest and sending him flying into the dumpster.

The second guy pulled out a pocket knife. "Alright, now you're pissing me off."

Troy dodged a swipe, summoning another bubble to act as a bouncy barrier. The thug's knife hand hit it and rebounded straight into his own face.

"OW—SON OF A—"

Troy smirked. "Yeah, you really played yourself there."

With both guys groaning in pain, he turned to the woman. "You okay, ma'am?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah—uh—thanks, Bubble Boy."

Troy twitched again. "It's—never mind."

He pulled out his phone, stopped the recording. "Criminals caught in the alley on West Street. Consider them a gift, officers."

After pressing send to the police hotline, he gave a dramatic swish of his hoodie cape and dashed away—

—only to trip over a loose brick and faceplant.

"...I meant to do that," he mumbled.

And just like that, Bubble Buster's legend began.