"Damn it all!" Ron's fist slammed down on the table, sending a sharp crack echoing through the room. His eyes blazed with anger as he glared at the receptionist. "This is ridiculous!" he spat, his voice tinged with fury. His dream of becoming a hero, shattered into a million pieces, lay before him like broken glass. It was not the first time he had failed; in fact, it was the tenth, but each failure cut deeper than the last. Ron was a patient man, but even he had his limits, and he had reached them.
The stoic receptionist, a woman in her early thirties, held her ground as Ron's anger boiled over. "I'm sorry, sir," she said in a measured voice, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "The test is designed to be challenging. Perhaps with more training and preparation, you can try again in a few months." Ron snorted, the sound echoing off the walls of the small room. He loomed over the woman, his frustration and disappointment etched deep into his furrowed brow. "I've had enough of this," he growled, his hand slamming down on the table. His dark brown eyes staring right into the receptionist eyes.
"I did everything!" Ron bellowed, his voice echoing through the otherwise quiet room. His hands trembled with anger, and he could feel his face turning red. "I memorized the whole monster encyclopedia, hired private tutors, aced your stupid writing test, and even wasted my life savings on your fucking expensive training camp!" He leaned forward, his eyes blazing. "What else do you need from me?" But the stoic receptionist remained unimpressed, her face unmoved by Ron's outburst. It was as if she had heard it all before, a hundred times over.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Williams," the receptionist said in a tone that was almost sympathetic. "But the requirements to become a hero are high for a reason. Perhaps you should consider a different career path." As she finished speaking, she slyly pressed a hidden button beneath her desk, signaling the security guards to come and escort the enraged man out of the building.
Ron continued to rant and rave, his anger growing with each passing moment. He paid no attention to the guards as they made their way towards him, their dark uniforms gleaming ominously in the fluorescent light. Ron noticed a bit late and his fists clenched in response. It seemed as though he was ready to launch himself at them, to take on the world if he had to.
But then, just as he was about to make his move, a voice boomed through the intercom, interrupting his thoughts. "Tiffany, could you please escort Mr. Williams to my office?" the calm voice said, its words echoing through the room.
Tiffany's eyes flickered with recognition as she rose from her seat, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Williams," she said, her tone dripping with fake politeness. "Please follow me."
Ron hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. The guards were still looming over him, their imposing figures filling up the small room. He could feel their eyes on him, judging him for his outburst. But the prospect of meeting the person who might be a higher up in the National Bureau of Heroes or NBH in short was too tantalizing to resist.
As they descended in the elevator, Ron couldn't help but wonder who had summoned him. Could it be one of those bigwigs that always appeared on TV, or perhaps someone in a more middle-ranked position? He didn't feel important enough to warrant such a summons, but he couldn't deny the excitement that fluttered in his chest at the possibility of meeting a higher-up in the NBH.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding as Ron's heart pounded with anticipation. The plush office that greeted him upon arrival was almost as large as the entire reception area. Seated behind a polished oak desk was a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a warm smile. He gestured for Ron to take a seat on the plush leather sofa in front of him.
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence between them. Ron sat there, his back straight, trying to contain his nerves despite having been angry just moments before. Yet there was something about this middle-aged man that he couldn't quite place, an aura of power that radiated from him in waves. An aura he could sense to those who were gifted, people who had been granted the title of hero in this era of battle against the portal invaders.
The middle-aged man looked at Ron intently for a moment before speaking. "I have to say, Mr. Williams, I'm impressed by your persistence. Despite failing the hero exam multiple times and being in your early thirties, you continue to pursue your dream of becoming a hero. That takes a certain kind of courage and determination."
Ron's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected the man to reprimand him for his outburst earlier or reject him outright. This unexpected praise caught him off guard, and he struggled to find the right words to respond.
"Th-thank you, sir," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I am Agent Monroe, pleasure to meet you,” Agent Monroe said. His hand reached out for a shake and Ron replied without hesitation. The middle age man smiled, leaning back in his chair once more. "But let's be honest, Mr. Williams. The chances of you becoming a hero at this point are slim to none. The hero business is a young person's game, and the competition is fierce. It takes more than determination to make it in this field."
Ron felt his heart sink at the man's words. He had known it was a long shot, but to hear it said out loud was a bitter pill to swallow. Yet the flames in his eyes still flickered.
“Buakaw Bak Prachai,” Ron uttered. His answer raised an eyebrow on the middle age man’s face. “A man in his early forties succeeded in his Hero Awakening and rose to the top to become the strongest Asian Hero.”
"Ah, Buakaw Bak Prachai," Agent Monroe said, nodding his head. "A remarkable individual, no doubt. But he is the exception, not the rule. And to be fair, in comparison to you Mr. Williams, Buakaw is a former kickboxing champion while you on the other hand… well, let me just say there’s a lot of inadequacy."
Ron could feel the man's words chipping away at his resolve, but he refused to let them defeat him. He had come too far and worked too hard to give up now.
"I understand, sir," he said, his voice steadier now. "But with all due respect, I refuse to let my age or the odds against me dictate my future. I believe that I have what it takes to become a hero, and I won't stop until I prove it."
The man regarded Ron for a moment before finally nodding his head. "I admire your persistence, Mr. Williams," he said. "But are you really doing this for the sake of mankind?”
Their eyes met and there was tension in the air.
“I read your file, Mr. Williams,” Agent Monroe said. “Besides your unique name, you were there at ground zero.”
Ron's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his past. Memories flooded his mind, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in his chest. It had been seven years since that awful day and never once he could forget it.
Back in the year 2020, sightings of interdimensional portals plagued the city of New York and Ron was in the middle of it all. Monsters of all shapes and sizes came out from those portals and wreaked havoc upon the land.
Ron remembered the chaos that ensued vividly. The ground shook as massive beasts stomped through the city streets, crushing everything in their path. Fire spewed from the mouths of dragon-like creatures, setting buildings ablaze. Winged creatures swooped down from the sky, snatching up unsuspecting people in their talons.
The sound of screams and destruction filled the air as the city was plunged into chaos. People ran for their lives, tripping over debris and each other in their desperate attempts to escape. The streets were littered with overturned cars, broken glass, and the occasional body.
Then there was him, standing there in the middle of the road with his head bloody, his eyes staring at a gruesome scene as his whole body froze.
Ron snapped out of it.
“Losing your wife and you unborn son is a terrible thing to experience, Mr. Williams. But vengeance is not the answer that you should seek,” Agent Monroe said.
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Ron's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched tightly. The mention of his wife and unborn son was like pouring salt on an open wound. He could feel his anger rising, and he struggled to keep it under control.
"Do you have a family, Mr. Monroe?" Ron asked.
The middle-aged man raised his eyebrows, surprised by Ron's response. "There's no need to play the same card, Mr. Williams," Agent Monroe said. "Whatever desperation you have, the bureau will not accept you as a candidate for the Hero Awakening."
Ron stood up, his anger boiling over. His eyes glared at the middle-aged man. "Why?" he asked.
Agent Monroe sat there, calmly gazing at Ron. "You yourself know the answer, Mr. Williams," Agent Monroe said. "As of 2025, the UN had banned anyone older than thirty from undergoing the Hero Awakening due to high mortality rates during conversion."
"Then make an exception," Ron demanded. "It's not like you people haven't broken any rules in secret."
Agent Monroe smirked. "Unlike what you are thinking, Mr. Williams, I'm the type of guy who follows the rules by the book," Agent Monroe said.
"Too bad for me then," Ron said. "So why bother calling me up here then?"
Agent Monroe clasped his hands together. "Mr. Williams, I want to apologize for bringing you here under false pretenses," he said. "I needed to speak with you in person to express the bureau's gratitude for your service."
Ron looked confused. "What service?" he asked.
Agent Monroe pulled out a file and flipped it open. "According to our records, you have been one of the most active participants in our Citizen Task Force program," he said. "You had participate in all of the Hero Registration Test for the past five years without a fault. Your first three years were quite amusing while the latter part acceptable. If wasn’t for the ban you would be out there, risking your life for the sake humanity. But here we are."
Agent Monroe pulled out an envelope from inside his tailor made suit. He placed it on the table and slightly pushed towards Ron.
“What’s this?” Ron asked.
"It's a small token of our appreciation for your efforts," Agent Monroe replied. "Open it."
Ron hesitated for a moment before picking up the envelope and tearing it open. Inside, he found a letter and a check. His eyes widened as he read the letter, which thanked him for his contributions and stated that the check was for a substantial sum of money.
“The government willingly give people money? That’s a first,” Ron said. He eyed the laid-back Agent Monroe once more, trying to get a read out of the man with gray hair.
As Agent Monroe cleared his throat, Ron could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The air in the room felt thick with tension. Ron knew that the news would not be good, but he was not prepared for what came next.
"Mr. Williams," Agent Monroe began, his voice flat and controlled. "We have decided to make a change to your application status. As of today, you are to be permanently banned from the program."
Ron's mind went blank for a moment. He had poured his heart and soul into the program for years, training tirelessly to become a hero and protect his community. Now, all his efforts were for nothing.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he managed to say, looking up at Agent Monroe.
"No, Mr. Williams. The decision has been finalized," Agent Monroe replied, his expression unreadable. "However, we do not wish to leave you empty-handed. The envelope in your hand is a token of our appreciation for your contributions to the program. Consider it a reimbursement for all the time and effort you have invested."
Ron looked down at the envelope in his hand, feeling a mix of disbelief and anger. He had been betrayed by the very institution he had sworn to serve.
"If you hope to make a plea, I recommend you not to," Agent Monroe added, his tone hinting at a warning.
Ron clenched his fists and glared at the agent. He knew he had no chance of overturning the decision, but he was not about to go down without a fight.
“Be wise, Mr. Williams,” Agent Monroe said. “Letting anger take the rein won’t solve the problem.”
Ron understood what Agent Monroe meant. The anger he had in him paled in comparison to the sudden fierce aura exuded by the calm-looking middle age man. He knew it would be a one sided fight if he raised his fists. Ron turned and left with the envelope in his hand.
As the elevator descended, Ron tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths, but the anger still burned hot within him. However, his thoughts were interrupted when the elevator doors opened to reveal two federal workers standing in the hallway, engrossed in a hushed conversation.
"Did you hear about the death of that CPD member?" one of the workers asked in a hushed tone.
"Yeah, I heard he was killed while experimenting his new invention," the other worker replied, his voice equally low.
Ron paused, pretending to play with his phone as he eavesdropped on their conversation. He knew that the CPD which stood for Counter Portal Invasion Defense was a highly respected organization, and the death of one of its members would be big news.
"I heard he was one of those black listed ones," the first worker whispered.
"Really? Then good for the CPD," the second worker said, his voice barely above a whisper. “With one of them dead, they free up a lot of funds for more useful projects.”
Ron's curiosity was piqued. He knew he shouldn't be listening in on other people's conversations, but he couldn't help himself. The intrigue of getting to know the mystery behind the most guarded branch of National Bureau of Heroes was hard to deny.
He moved closer to the workers, pretending to adjust his jacket while straining to hear more of their conversation. "Yeah, but did you hear about his invention?" the first worker continued. "Apparently, it was supposed to unlock a hero's potential and make them even stronger."
"Really? That sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie," the second worker remarked.
"Dude, we’re in an era where monsters pop out from a portal in the sky. So sounding like sci-fi movie does sounds possible and I heard it straight from one of the CPD members that cleaned up the mess," the first worker said.
"But it's a shame that the inventor died before he could perfect it. Who knows what kind of advancements he could have made to the hero industry," the second worker lamented.
Ron's mind raced with the possibilities. If the invention was real, then it could change everything. He had always dreamed of being a hero, but his lack of powers had held him back. If he could unlock his potential, then maybe he could finally achieve his dream. He made a mental note to research more about the invention and the CPD as perhaps there was a way for him to become a hero. He hoped to hear more about this invention before the elevator comes to a stop and as if the stars had aligned themselves perfectly in the sky, the first worker babbled.
“Unfortunately, the CPD tossed the project into the dumpster, along with all of the inventor's research notes," the first worker continued. "They said it was too dangerous to continue testing without the inventor's guidance and along with the bad track record of the inventor, they really didn’t even give a chance to it."
Ron felt his heart sink at the news. It seemed his dreams of becoming a hero were fading away once again. But then a glimmer of hope flickered in his mind. Maybe there was a way to retrieve the invention and continue the research. He knew it would be a dangerous and possibly illegal undertaking, but he was willing to take the risk. As the elevator doors opened, Ron stepped out and made his way towards the exit. His mind was buzzing with plans and possibilities. He knew he couldn't do it alone, but he was determined to find a way to become a hero.
Right after he exited the building for good. His phone rang. It was an unknown caller.
"Hello?" he said cautiously.
"Ron, it's Martha," the voice on the other end said. It was the mother of his out-of-touch childhood friend, someone he hadn't spoken to in years. Ron hesitated before answering, wondering why she would be calling him now after all these years.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Andrew passed away," Martha said.
Ron was stunned. He hadn't spoken to Andrew in years, but the news hit him hard. They met while in high school and despite the short time, they bonded quickly over their same interest of playing Final Fantasy. But as they got older and went to college, they grew apart, and Ron had lost touch with him.
"I'm so sorry, Martha," Ron said, his voice shaking. "What happened?"
"It was an accident," Martha said. "The company he worked called me and told everything. But he was gone before they could even get to the hospital."
Ron was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say or how to comfort his friend's mother. He felt guilty for not staying in touch with Andrew and for not being there for him in his final moments.
"I'll come to the funeral," Ron said finally. "I'll be there for you and the family."
"Thank you, Ron," Martha said, her voice softening. "But you don’t have to, the funeral was yesterday."
Ron was confused. “Why didn’t you call me?”
"I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't have your number," Martha explained apologetically.
It took him a second later to realize how dumb he was. He changed his phone number a few times over the last few years and most of the time he forgot to tell people he had changed numbers. He wished he had been more attentive about the little details in his life as he wouldn’t have missed his friend’s funeral or…
He shook that last thought out of his head.
“Um, Ron,” Martha said.
“Yea?”
“Andrew left a letter for you,” Martha said.
Ron was taken aback by Martha's words. His friend Andrew had left him a letter? He couldn't believe it. What could it be about? He hadn't spoken to Andrew in years, and they had drifted apart due to their different life paths. Ron couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt for not keeping in touch.
"Are you sure it's for me?" Ron asked, hoping that he wasn't mistaken.
"Yes, he specifically mentioned your name in his will," Martha confirmed.
Ron felt a strange mix of emotions. On the one hand, he was touched that his friend had remembered him and thought of him in his final moments. On the other hand, he felt a sense of unease, almost as if there was something ominous about the letter.
"I'll come by tomorrow to pick it up," Ron said finally, trying to push aside his doubts.
"Of course, I'll be here all day," Martha said, her voice gentle.
Ron hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, lost in thought. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off about the situation, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He decided to push the thoughts aside and focus on getting some rest before picking up the letter.