The sun, like a bright eye, pierced the horizon and flooded my room with harsh light. I blinked, the familiar throb of a hangover hammering at my temples. A raspy sigh escaped my lips. Another day to endure, to survive.

I propped myself up on my elbows, the rumpled sheets sticking to my damp skin. A musty smell, mixed with the acrid smell of separation, hung in the air and tightened my throat. I hated this place. The lifeless white walls, the too-quiet hallways, the constant feeling of suffocation... Everything here reminded me that I was alone. Useless. Forgotten.

Je saute hors du lit, mes pieds nus claquent sur le sol glacé. J'ouvre la fenêtre, laissant entrer un courant d'air frais. En bas, les autres enfants jouent dans la cour, leurs rires légers résonnent comme un écho lointain, inaccessible. Je les observe un instant, immobile. J'ai toujours été à l'écart, comme un loup solitaire perdu au milieu d'une meute qui ne le reconnaîtrait jamais.

Je me traînai jusqu'à la salle de bain. L'eau froide qui coulait sur mon visage me ramène à la réalité. Je levai les yeux vers le miroir, fixant le reflet d'un inconnu. Des yeux noirs, trop grands pour mon visage, et un regard terne et utilisé. Mes cheveux noirs étaient coupés trop courts, ce qui rendait ma silhouette encore plus fragile. Mon visage portait déjà les marques invisibles d'une bataille qu'un enfant de mon âge n'aurait jamais dû mener.

Vite habillée, je descendis dans la salle à manger. M. Tanaka, le directeur de l'orphelinat, m'attendait avec son sourire fatigué. C'était un vieil homme aux traits tirés mais au regard curieusement bienveillant. Il était là depuis aussi longtemps que je me souvienne, le seul visage familier dans cette mer d'indifférence.

« Bonjour, Kyotaka », dit-il doucement en posant une assiette devant moi.

« Bonjour », répondis-je d'un ton neutre.

Nous mangeons en silence. Il n'y avait plus rien à dire, et cette lourde quiétude semblait nous convenir à tous les deux. Une fois mon assiette vide, je me levai pour partir, mais M. Tanaka m'arrêta d'un geste.

—Puis-je te parler, Kyotaka ? exigea-t-il, sa voix plus douce que d'habitude.

J'ai hassé les épaules et je me suis rassis.

- Bien sûr.

Il resta silencieux un instant, comme s'il cherchait ses mots.

—Tu as l'air... plus sombre que d'habitude. Est-ce que ça va, mon garçon ?

J'ai haussé les épaules à nouveau.

— Comme toujours.

Il soupira doucement, ses yeux brillants d'une lumière triste.

— Je sais que ce n'est pas facile d'être ici. Mais je veux que tu saches que je suis là pour toi, quoi qu'il arrive.

Je le regarde, sceptique.

— Vous ne pouvez rien faire pour moi, monsieur Tanaka. J'ai été créé pour être seule.

Il pose alors sa main sur la mienne, geste simple mais chaleureux.

— Ne dis pas ça. Tu es un garçon intelligent et courageux. Tu trouveras ta place, j'en suis sûr.

Je retirai brusquement ma main.

— Comment peux-tu en être si sûr ? Je n’ai rien. Pas de famille. Pas d’amis. Pas d’avenir.

A long silence settles between us before he regains his composure.

— Your future is not written, Kyotaka. It's up to you to shape it. But for that, you must first believe in yourself.

I let out an American snicker.

— Believe in me? Easy to say. How am I supposed to do that, huh?

He held my gaze without blinking, his eyes full of infinite patience.

“I don’t know how, Kyotaka. But I know you can do it. There is a strength in you that I have never seen in anyone else.

His words resonated within me, like a whisper I had always ignored. A small spark, buried under years of pain and resentment. A silent rebellion. A thirst for freedom that I had never been able to name. Maybe he was right after all.

I looked down, unable to hold that hopeful look any longer.

“Thank you, Mr. Tanaka,” I whispered in a low voice.

He gave me a sincere smile.

— Never forget that you are not alone, Kiyotaka.

And, for the first time in a long time, those words resonated somewhere deep inside me.

I left the dining room, my mind confused. The day promised to be long, monotonous, with this familiar feeling of rapid forward movement towards heavy boredom. I put on my coat, grabbed my bag, and crossed the threshold of the door. The cold morning air greeted me with an icy slap to the face, but at least it woke me up a little. The deserted streets were silent, as if suspended in an in-between space before the hustle and bustle of the day.

Arriving at the bus stop, my mood immediately deteriorated. The place was organized chaos: groups of students crowded together, chatty and noisy, some glued to their phones, others jostling each other and laughing wildly. One of them was blaring music from a portable speaker, a mush of sound drowning out the jeers that were coming from all sides. I was not a fan of the crowd, even less of such a circus.

I slipped out of the way, hoping no one would notice me. Obviously, that was too much to ask.

— Hey, the new kid! says a deep and provocative voice.

I look up. Three guys stood in front of me, tattoos showing, evil smiles. The kind of guy who always seeks to assert his superiority in front of an audience.

I sighed and tried to ignore them as I continued on my way, but they blocked my way.

“You think you can snub us, right? spat one of them with a smirk.

I stopped short and stared into his eyes, without blinking.

—What exactly do you want?

They exchanged a knowing smile.

“We just wanted to welcome you,” he said, feigning sympathy.

— Very funny. Now if you're done...

— Minutes, little ones. We heard you had a big head. Apparently you think you can beat anyone. We just want to see if it's true.

I couldn't help but smile inside. They had no idea what they would just cause.

—Are you sure you want to try?

Their expression became more serious. They got into position, as if rehearsing some awkward combat choreography. Fists raised, determined but ridiculous.

I looked at them for a second, more amused than annoyed. I knew this kind of confrontation. I had been through enough to know that it always ended the same way.

With a quick step, I close the distance between us. Before they knew what was happening to them, I knocked. My movements were clean, precise, each blow hitting its target with disconcerting efficiency. The first fell backwards before even raising his fist. The second tried to grab me, but I knocked him over with a sweep. As for the third, he didn't even have time to make a move before finding himself on the ground.

In a few seconds, it was all over.

A stunned silence settles in. The students gathered around us stared at the scene, their eyes wide. A few murmurs emerged, incredulous.

— He just burst them in less than two seconds...

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

— He's the guy everyone's talking about! The one who wiped out 15,000 students in one day!

- This guy is a monster...

I didn't pay attention to the whispers. I had already boarded the bus, settling in a secluded spot near the window. The engine roared, and the vehicle set off, carrying with it the commotion left behind me.

High school offered little respite. The narrow corridors, with walls covered in graffiti, echoed with crises and the crash of lockers being slammed. Here, it was the law of the strongest. Those who stood aside were quick to be noticed...or crushed.

I walk with my head down, hoping to blend in with the crowd. But I knew it was useless. In a place like this, rumors traveled faster than light. And my reputation had already preceded me.

I push open the classroom door. The interior was like the exterior: chaotic. Graffiti covered the walls, some tables were ripped open, and a smell of stale smoke and stale tobacco permeated the air. I sat at the back, in a dark corner, where I could observe without attracting attention.

A few minutes later, the professor entered. Rather than starting class, he looked around the room with obvious weariness, slapping his head at the chaos.

“Another wasted day,” I muttered to myself.

It was the same story every time. No matter how good their intentions were, it was impossible to take a class in such a dilapidated atmosphere.

A burst of laughter pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up and saw a blond boy, with light eyes and a relaxed smile on his lips. He walked confidently through the class, standing in front of me without embarrassment.

— Hey, the new guy! It's like looking cool. We could become friends, right?

I looked at him for a moment, amused and slightly disdainful. I had met dozens of people like this.

—And you look like a moron. We could become enemies, right? I replied with a smirk.

He burst out laughing, as if I had just told him the best joke in the world.

— Yeah, I like it! You have something to answer for, you. I'm Hiro. And you ?

-Kiyotaka.

— Listen, Kyotaka, I have an idea: we make peace, and we become the kings of this school. What do you say?

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

— Not interested.

Hiro didn't seem ready to give up.

— Come on, think! We could have a blast. Do stupid things, steal things, drive the teachers crazy...

I stare at him, incredulous.

— Is that what you call having fun? It's pathetic.

His smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a frown.

— Do you take me for an idiot?

—I'm just telling you the truth. He's a spoiled brat who doesn't understand real life.

Hiro stood up suddenly, his fists clenched, his face burning.

— You're going to regret it, Kyotaka!

I let out a silent laugh. This guy was both entertaining and hopeless. I would have liked to teach him a good lesson, but I had neither the energy nor the desire to get my hands dirty. Not yet.

The rest of the day passed without further incident. I spent my time absently scribbling in my notebook, listening to music in one ear, while observing the other students with exploited indifference. Strangely, I felt more and more at ease in this surrounding chaos, like a lone wolf in the middle of a pack of stray dogs.

Boredom slowly ate away at me, each minute stretching like an eternity. The hours passed, stuck in a stifling monotony. Gazing out the window, I saw the sun slowly set, bathing the playground in golden light. The air was becoming too heavy. I was suffocating.

Without a word, I stood up and left the classroom, walking through the family hallways of the school. It was a huge maze, but I knew every corner. For years, these corridors had been my refuge, a discreet escape where I lost myself, fleeing the boredom of classes and the hustle and bustle of the crowds. But today, I didn't plan to linger. I had another objective: the orphanage workshop.

There, in this forgotten corner, I had spent months bringing a wreck to life. An old motocross bike, abandoned, almost destined for scrap, that I had managed to repair. With each piece assembled, each bolt tightened, I found a little of myself.

I push open the workshop door, breathing in the familiar smell of oil and metal. My gaze falls on the motorcycle, as if it was waiting for me. I ran my hand over the handlebars, caressing the still cold engine. Putting on my helmet, I turn the key. The roar of the engine echoed through the workshop, a sweet melody that vibrated through my bones.

Without waiting, I got out, my heart beating in unison with the engine, and took the dirt road that wound along the cliff. The wind whipped against my face, and each turn I took gave me an exhilarating feeling of speed. I push the accelerator harder and harder, letting the world fade into a blur behind me.

I ended up reaching a plateau that overlooked the entire valley. The landscape spread out before my eyes, bathed in the light of the sunset, the sky bursting with red and orange hues. For a moment suspended in time, I stand there, short of breath, admiring the raw beauty of this moment.

Then a crazy idea came to me. Before I can even chase it away, I go back on the gas. The engine roared to life, and I headed straight for the edge of the cliff. I gathered momentum and jumped, the bike rising into the air like it was made to fly. The wind rushed under my helmet, and for a split second I felt completely free.

The wheels hit the ground with a crash, but I already had a smile on my face. I recommend, again and again, pushing ever further, ever closer to the edge. With each jump, the adrenaline consumed me a little more, drowning out all rational thought.

There, on this plateau, between sky and earth, I felt alive. Not just alive, but fully, fiercely alive. As if nothing else had ever mattered.

I push the bike hard, the engine roaring like a hungry beast. The wind whipped my face, my heart pounding with adrenaline. The edge of the cliff is approaching at full speed. An exhilarating feeling of invincibility overcomes me.

Too confident.

A misplaced stone skidded under the front wheel. The handlebars vibrated in my hands, the motorcycle suddenly swerved. My stomach sank.

" Shit… ! " I blurted out, realizing that I wouldn't be able to straighten up in time.

The void engulfs me. The air escaped my lungs as I fell, the world spinning past in a chaotic whirlwind. Then came the impact. A searing pain shot through my body, followed by total darkness.

I opened my eyes. Everything was white. No ground, no sky, no horizon, just an endless expanse of pristine nothingness. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my head:

“[System activated: Evil Hand]”

I sat up with a start. My gaze swept across the void. Nothing. Just this voice in my mind.

" What is... ? » I whispered, still dazed.

I raise my hands in front of me. They looked normal, but something was wrong. Like a latent energy lurking under the skin, ready to manifest at any moment.

— [Welcome to the new world, host. You have been chosen for a new life.]

"A new life?" I frowned. “But…I was….”

The memory of my fall suddenly comes back to me. “So I’m… dead?”

- [That's right. You perished in your original world. But your mental strength and determination have earned you a second chance.]

I rub my eyes, still in shock. “This is a joke…”

— [Your body is being rebuilt. The Evil Hand system will allow you to reshape your body at will.]

A shiver ran through me as I saw a vision in my mind: my hands transformed into sharp blades, then into shields as strong as steel.

I smile despite myself. “This reminds me of an old video game... Prototype.”

—[This power will give you endless possibilities.]

The voice repeats, relentlessly:

— [You can now choose your appearance. Choose from a variety of races and physical characteristics.]

Images flashed through my mind: pointy-eared elves, muscular orcs, ordinary humans…

— I want to keep my appearance. Just…improve it a little.

A vision takes shape: a man 6'3", blond hair in disarray, fiery red eyes, muscular and toned body. Yes, it was me, but in a superior version.

—Yeah, that's perfect.

— [Transformation validated.]

I blinked and saw a lush forest. Colossal trees, their emerald green leaves glistening in the sun, surrounded me. The air was clean, vibrant with energy.

I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath.

— It's crazy… I'm really alive.

— [Your mission is to survive and become the strongest.]

I smile, a spark of determination in my eyes.

— That speaks to me.

I clench my fists, feeling the power coursing through my veins.