The nameless kid sat there, his fingers gripping his sleeves as he watched the crowd thin out. The principal was still giving his little speech, but barely anyone cared. Most were just eager to leave. They got their spectacle, their violence, their entertainment—now it was back to normal life.
But for him, nothing felt normal anymore.
His eyes trailed over to where Thor was being carried away, the so-called "second strongest" reduced to an unconscious, battered mess. A few hours ago, he was laughing at the guy along with everyone else. Now? He couldn't get the image out of his head—Thor, punching the air even after his body had given up, like losing wasn't an option.
And Jack. The guy who started off being ridiculed but walked away with respect. He lost, yeah. But the way he accepted it, how he already had his eyes on next year, like this was just a chapter in a much bigger story—like his loss meant something.
And Zik… he shouldn't have won. No one thought he could. And yet, somehow, through sheer absurdity, luck, and whatever kind of brain he had, he did.
The nameless kid clenched his fists.
He should've fought Tobias.
Not because he thought he could've won. He knew he wouldn't have. Tobias was on a whole different level. But now, sitting here, watching everyone else walk away with something—a story, a lesson, a reason to push forward—he realized that maybe losing wouldn't have been the worst thing.
At least he would've known.
Instead, he was just here. Left behind. A footnote in a tournament he never even participated in.
"What kind of story would I have had?" he whispered to himself.
He wasn't sure. But one thing was clear.
Next time, he would find out.
Tobias felt it before he saw it—that heavy, lingering stare from the edge of the clearing. It wasn't like the usual glances he got. Not the admiration, not the intimidation, not the envy. It was something else. Something weighty.
He turned, his sharp eyes landing on the nameless kid.
"Do I know you?"
The words came out casual, like an afterthought, but they hit harder than he realized.
The kid swallowed, a bitter weight settling in his throat. Of course he doesn't know me. Why would he? Tobias only knew the people worth knowing—the ones who stood in the ring, who fought, who made themselves seen.
And him? He wasn't even a name on a list. Just a ghost sitting among the remains of a tournament he had no part in.
The kid met Tobias's eyes, forcing his voice to stay steady. "Sadly, no." He hesitated, then added, "But one day, you might."
There was no bravado in his voice, no forced confidence. Just something raw and honest, something that made Tobias pause for a second longer than he needed to.
The nameless kid wasn't even sure what he meant by that. He wasn't saying it like some grand declaration, like he'd come back stronger next time and blow everyone away. He didn't know if that was true. He didn't know if he had what it took.
But he did know one thing—this feeling, this emptiness sitting inside his chest, was unbearable. He never wanted to feel it again.
So one way or another, he would change.
Whether he liked what he became or not—that was a question for the future.
As the nameless kid walked away, fading into the background like he always had, Tobias watched him go with mild curiosity. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, tilting his head.
"What a weird guy, right?" he asked, glancing at his friends.
Nobody answered. Nobody even acknowledged it. Aiden was stretching, Zik was fiddling with his sleeve, and Reyes was already halfway to the exit. It was like the moment hadn't even happened, like the nameless kid had been nothing more than a passing shadow.
Tobias huffed a laugh to himself and shook his head. Guess that's just how it is.
Before he could follow after the others, the principal's voice cut through the thinning crowd.
"Zik."
Zik turned, raising an eyebrow as the principal approached him with his usual stiff posture. The man looked him over, arms crossed.
"How about I start training you?"
Zik blinked. "Huh?"
"Your aura." The principal nodded toward him. "It's going to be a core ability for you. And you could use the help. It's rare—only about 1% of the world has it. If you want to make the most of it, you're going to need proper guidance."
For a second, Zik just stood there. He wasn't used to people offering him help. Training with Reyes had been different—more of a chaotic trial by fire. This, though? This was serious.
He glanced at his friends. Aiden was watching with mild interest, Tobias just looked entertained, and Reyes… well, Reyes was trying very hard not to look smug.
Zik scratched the back of his head.
"Well," he said slowly. "That's… uh. That's a lot to process."
The principal raised an eyebrow. "You're thinking about saying no?"
Zik shrugged. "Not no exactly. Just… I didn't expect to get a mentor today, you know?"
The principal smirked. "Get used to the unexpected."
Zik exhaled sharply through his nose, then rolled his shoulders. 1% of the world, huh? Sounded like a hassle.
But also…
Sounded kind of cool.
The principal leaned against the railing, arms crossed, watching the last of the students shuffle out of the arena. Then he turned to Zik with a thoughtful look.
"Zik, what was your last name again?" he asked, frowning slightly. "I swear I keep forgetting it."
Tobias gave him a disapproving glance. "Don't be rude."
Zik just chuckled, shaking his head. "It doesn't really matter. I made it up years ago because it sounded cool when I changed it at the orphanage."
The principal raised an eyebrow. "You changed it? Why?"
Zik shrugged. "I don't know. Felt right at the time."
The principal hesitated for a moment, then asked, "How come you got this old and never got adopted?"
Aiden groaned, rubbing his temples. "Dude, seriously, stop being rude."
But Zik just waved it off. "It's fine." He exhaled, leaning back on his heels. "I wasn't the cutest kid, I guess. And some of the others came with fun superpowers. Who wouldn't want a kid who could breathe fire or levitate things? I was powerless back then. I could never compete."
He shrugged again, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I figured it out early on, so I just stopped caring a long time ago."
The principal studied him for a moment, then smirked. "I like your strong mentality."
Zik snorted. "Thanks, I guess."
Reyes smirked. "You should adopt him."
The principal blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You almost killed him, might as well make it up to him," Reyes said casually.
The principal scoffed. "Oh, come on. I technically saved him!"
Zik's friends froze. Then, all at once, they turned to the principal.
"What?" Tobias asked, his tone sharp.
The principal hesitated. "Uh…" He glanced at Reyes, who was grinning like he had just set off fireworks indoors.
"Yeah," Reyes said, clearly enjoying this. "You know that whole dramatic moment where Zik suddenly got Aura? That was him. He just threw energy at the kid and hoped for the best."
The principal went pale. "Reyes. Stop. Talking."
Tobias took a step forward, his jaw tight. "You—what?"
"I had a very strong feeling it would work!" the principal defended.
"A feeling?" Aiden said flatly.
The principal sighed. "Look, can we move past that?"
Reyes smirked again. "Sure. As long as you adopt him."
The principal groaned. "I'm not adopting a student."
"Why not?" Reyes asked, amused. "You're lonely. You never made it past half a date. And let's be real, you've always wanted a kid. You're just too awkward to raise a baby. But Zik's too old for you to mess up!"
The principal pinched the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe I'm having this conversation."
Meanwhile, Zik was just staring at him, eyes wide. "Wait… are you really not gonna adopt me?"
The principal sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, kid—"
Zik cut him off. "I'd get a real last name."
The principal hesitated.
Zik's voice was quieter now. "A real inheritance. A real family name."
The principal exhaled slowly.
Reyes grinned. "Oh, he wants it. You gotta do it now."
Tobias crossed his arms. "Yeah. And after almost killing him, it's the least you could do."
The principal groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You people are impossible."
Reyes nudged him. "So? What's it gonna be?"
The principal looked at Zik. The kid was trying not to look too hopeful, but it was obvious he wanted this.
The principal sighed. "Fine."
Zik's face lit up. "Really?!"
"Yeah, yeah," the principal muttered. "But don't expect me to be good at this."
Reyes clapped him on the back. "Oh, don't worry. You're already a terrible role model."
Zik just grinned. "Sweet! Do I get a cool last name?"
The principal groaned. "Is that really the most important thing to you?"
"Of course!" Zik said. "Names are important!"
Reyes smirked. "He's got a point."
The principal shook his head. "This is the worst decision I've ever made."
Aiden crossed his arms, looking at Zik like he had grown a second head. "I can't believe you actually want to be adopted by the guy who almost killed you."
Tobias nodded. "Yeah, that's kinda insane."
Zik turned to them, completely unfazed. "Beggars don't get to be choosers. And besides, he looks rich. Think of the money we'll have one day."
Tobias frowned. "That's messed up."
Zik just shrugged. "He almost killed me, so I don't care."
Aiden raised an eyebrow. "That's how you justify this?"
"Yup." Zik leaned back with a grin. "And then there's me getting a real family name. A name with history behind it. My old one never felt like a real name anyway. I only ever used it for legal documents."
The principal sighed. "Wow. I can already tell this is going to be a fantastic father-son relationship."
Reyes patted his shoulder. "Hey, at least he's honest."
Tobias folded his arms and frowned. "Wait… what even is your last name? I don't think I've ever heard it. I've just been calling you 'Principal' this whole time."
Aiden waved a hand dismissively. "Like I care."
Reyes smirked. "It's Trueman. His last name is Trueman."
Zik's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's cool! Zik Trueman. Sounds kinda powerful."
Meanwhile, the principal stood there, looking between them all with growing anxiety. "Wait, wait, wait. How did this even happen? I was just trying to stop a fight, and now I have a kid? What—?"
Reyes clapped him on the back. "Congrats, old man. You're a father now."
The principal ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "What just happened…?"
Zik sat on the rooftop of the academy, the city stretching out beneath him in the golden glow of sunset. The name Trueman still felt foreign in his mouth, like a suit he hadn't quite grown into. It was strange—he had gone his whole life not caring about names, dismissing them as just legal formalities. Yet, now that he had one with history, something inside him stirred.
Footsteps approached behind him. Reyes.
"You good, rich boy?" Reyes teased, sitting down beside him.
Zik exhaled. "Rich one day, maybe. But yeah… I guess." He hesitated. "It's weird. I thought having a real name would feel… I don't know, like winning a prize. But now it feels heavy. Like I owe something to it."
Reyes leaned back on his elbows. "Yeah, names are like that. They're not just words, you know? They carry history. Expectations. You get a fancy name, people expect you to live up to it. You get a cursed name, you spend your life trying to escape it."
Zik nodded slowly. "So it's like… a debt?"
Reyes shrugged. "Some philosophers think so. Like you're borrowing the weight of the people who carried it before you. If your ancestors were great, you gotta prove you deserve it. If they were terrible, you gotta prove you're different. Either way, it's never just a name."
Zik thought about that. He had never worried about disappointing anyone before—no family, no legacy, no one watching over him. Now, Trueman wasn't just something he made up because it sounded cool. It had roots. A past. Maybe even responsibilities.
"I used to think not having a real name meant I was free," Zik admitted. "Like I could just be whatever I wanted, no strings attached. But maybe I was just… nothing."
Reyes snorted. "Oh, please. You were never nothing. You were just Zik—some smartass who makes things more interesting. Now you're just Zik Trueman, which is basically the same guy, but with a better bank account eventually."
Zik chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't even know anything about the guy who had this name before me. I don't know if I want to."
"Then don't," Reyes said. "It's yours now. Rewrite it however you want."
The idea settled in Zik's chest, warm and strange. Maybe a name was a kind of inheritance. Maybe it was a debt. But maybe—just maybe—it was also a second chance.