Chapter 4: A News Post

Ralt scooped another bite of food into his mouth, the rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the plate filling the whole room.

His appetite was never particularly strong, sometimes he always lose it the moment his ability goes out of hand.

But tonight, eating felt like an accomplishment, a rare moment of control in a life dictated by chaos.

Then, a soft chime broke the silence.

A notification sound.

His gaze flickered toward the source of the noise.

Sitting just at the edge of the bed was a phone, its screen glowing faintly.

He hadn't noticed it before, hadn't even realized it was there until now.

Without hesitation, he reached for it.

Unlike before, there was no careful deliberation, no anxious hovering of his fingers.

He didn't bother contemplating whether or not his ability would destroy the device, he simply grabbed it.

If it withered into nothing the moment he touched it, so be it.

It wasn't his problem.

His father would pay for another one anyway.

He lifted the phone, glancing at the screen.

A missed call.

A few unread messages.

And other irrelevant things.

He turned it over in his hand, immediately recognizing the cheap case, the slightly worn edges.

The maid's.

The one who had practically fled the moment he dismissed her.

She must have been so focused on escaping that she hadn't even noticed when it slipped from her grasp.

Ralt smirked to himself, shaking his head slightly.

By now, she must have realized it was missing.

No one in their right senses would rush back to retrieve it, even if they panicked at the thought of losing it.

That is why she won't.

She wouldn't dare step foot back into his room.

She knew where it was.

She knew exactly where she had dropped it.

But fear, overwhelming, suffocating fear, would keep her from even considering the idea of returning to get it.

And that thought, more than anything, should have made him feel something.

Annoyance, amusement, maybe even a little pity.

But instead, he felt nothing at all.

He let out a breath, fingers tightening slightly around the device.

It still hadn't crumbled, still hadn't decayed under his touch.

Maybe his control was improving, or maybe the phone was just lucky tonight.

Either way, it didn't matter.

As he was about to drop the phone on his table.

But then, another notification sound.

Ralt's fingers curled around the phone as he lifted it once more.

The smooth surface remained intact, unaffected by his touch.

He had half-expected it to break apart from his second touch, but it didn't.

Well again, not that he would've cared if it had.

Leaning back slightly, he tapped the screen, his sharp eyes scanning through her notifications, looking for the new one.

For a moment he just thought.

'Maybe it is just another random irrelevant notification'

But then he saw it...

A news post.

The headline flashed across the screen, bold and striking against the dim light of his room.

His grip on the phone tightened slightly as he stared at it, curiosity flickering beneath his usual indifference.

He found himself scrolling down, drawn into whatever had made its way onto the screen.

Ralt's eyes scanned the glowing screen, the bold letters of the news headline catching his attention immediately.

His grip on the phone tightened, his expression unreadable as he scrolled down, absorbing the details of the article.

[The previous class had officially graduated.]

[After years of grueling training, they had finally earned the title of certified heroes.]

Their names were listed proudly, their achievements highlighted, their futures bright and promising.

The article went on to mention that the enrollment to register into the hero academy, has already started, and is opened for teens with abilites.

Young hopefuls from all over the country would register, to train, to grow, to become the next protectors of society.

A new class of heroes.

Ralt's jaw tensed.

He had watched the academy's students on television countless times before.

He had seen them sent to fight villains for their test, seen them use their abilites, seen them praised as symbols of hope and strength.

He had listened to interviews where some spoke of their dreams, their determination, their unwavering desire to protect the innocent.

They were everything he was not.

Everything he could never be.

The world loved them.

Respected them.

Celebrated them.

But the world feared him.

To them, he wasn't a person.

He wasn't someone with dreams or desires.

He was a mistake.

A curse.

A monster.

His fingers hovered over the phone screen, and for the briefest moment, he considered crushing the device in his palm, letting his ability do what it did best, destroy.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let out a quiet breath, and dropped the phone on the table.

'A hero academy.'

'A new generation.'

'A world that would never belong to him.'