The next day hit like a hammer to the head.
I woke up with my muscles heavy, like I'd run a marathon carrying a mountain on my back. My eyes looked normal—no green glow, no red flashes, no alien beams—but the metallic taste was still in my mouth. And my mind… well, it didn't forget.
Whatever was happening to me… it wasn't a dream.
Still, I put on my school uniform, shoved the fear deep down my throat, and pretended everything was fine. Like always.
The walk to school was silent. More silent than usual. People walked past me without noticing—same old Ben, the Quirkless kid, the nobody. Little did they
know that last night, I turned into living fire and razor crystal.
But I knew.
And that was enough.
Or… I thought it was.
At school, everything looked the same. The same gray walls, noisy hallways, and the smell of yesterday's lunch mixed with cheap deodorant. And of course, like a daily curse…
They were there.
The same idiots as always. Laughing loud, shoving backpacks, acting like the hallway was their stage.
"Look who's alive ! The loser made it !" said the tallest one, the group's leader, giving me a shove on the shoulder. "What happened ? Missed class to cry about never getting a Quirk ?"
I held back the anger. I swear I tried. But it came like a wave. Strong. Hot. Raw.
"Leave me alone," I said. Voice firm, but quiet.
They laughed.
"Wow, he speaks ! What now, you gonna try to hit us ?"
That's when one of them slapped the back of my head. Just a slap. Nothing big… on any other day.
But today…
Today wasn't any other day.
Something snapped inside me. Like an invisible trigger pulled by rage. The energy surged from my stomach, through my chest, past my shoulder…
And exploded into my arm.
MY ARM.
It wasn't mine anymore. It grew, doubled in size, the skin turned red, with muscles dense and hard as living stone. Four thick fingers. Strength.
A Tetramand arm.
"W-what the—?!" he stammered, but it was too late.
My fist—that fist—flew on its own. Slammed into his chest.
BOOM.
The impact was dry. Brutal. The idiot flew down the hallway like an angry bowling ball. Hit the wall. Crashed to the floor with a groan, gasping for air.Silence.
The whole hallway… froze.
Wide eyes. Open mouths. A student dropped his lunch. Another stepped back, tripping over his own bag.
My eyes locked onto the still-transformed arm, trembling. Every muscle pulsed with power. Raw strength. And for the first time…
Everyone was looking at me.
But not like before.
They were afraid.
And all I could think was:
'Oh, crap.'
' The principal's office was smaller than I remembered. '
Maybe because I wasn't alone this time. I was sunk in the uncomfortable chair, eyes fixed on the scratched wooden floor, while Principal Takashima paced back and forth like a lion trapped in a cage.
"Benjamin Tennyson, this is unacceptable !"
He was red. His mustache twitched every time he spoke, and his voice sounded like it carried years of frustration with troubled students.
"You know the school rules very well. No student is allowed to use their Quirk without permission—especially not to attack another student !"
I looked up and, for the first time, met his eyes without looking away.
"It wasn't supposed to be that strong..."
That froze him for a second. Just a second.
"Then how do you explain what happened in the hallway ? You're saying it wasn't meant to be that strong ?"
"I'm saying this is ridiculous," I snapped.
"Until yesterday, I was the kid everyone called useless. A failure. The Quirkless. Everyone mistreated me and you never did a thing to stop it. And now suddenly I'm the one being punished for defending myself ?!"
He sighed and rubbed his temple like my existence was a chronic headache.
"Your parents are on their way. They need to know."
Great, I thought. As if the day wasn't already bad enough.
Minutes later, the door creaked open and my parents walked in.
My mom looked visibly worried, clutching her purse like a shield. My dad, quieter, scanned the room with steady, tired eyes.
"What happened ?" my mom asked. "Why were we called ?"
The principal crossed his arms, cleared his throat, and pointed to the computer screen.
"I think it's better if you watch the footage first."
And then… there it was.
The hallway camera recording.
Me, standing, surrounded. The slap. The moment my arm exploded into red, monstrous muscle. The punch. The boy flying.Silence.
My parents stared at the screen like it had just spat out a dragon. My mom took a step back, and my dad simply said:
"That… can't be. Our son is Quirkless."
"Not anymore," I muttered, finally standing from the chair.
Everyone looked at me.
"I was going to tell you. I swear. But I don't even understand it myself yet."I held out my arm. Took a deep breath. And let it happen.
The transformation started at the shoulder. I felt the energy rush like molten lava beneath my skin, burning, but familiar.
The arm turned black and rocky, with glowing lines under the surface like alien magma.
When my palm ignited in flame, heat radiated through the entire room, making the papers on the desk tremble.
My mom gasped. My dad stepped back, eyes wide. The principal turned pale.
I kept my gaze steady.
"My… my Quirk appeared a few days ago," I said, voice calmer now, though the heat still surged through my transformed arm.
"I don't know how. Or why. It just… happened. And since then, my body's been changing. Reacting."
They kept staring. So I let the arm return to normal—the transformation vanished like smoke in the wind. The heat faded, and silence fell again like a weight.
"I'm still figuring it out. Learning to control it. But I swear I never meant to hurt anyone."
My mom covered her mouth, eyes welling up. She rushed over and pulled me into a tight hug.
"Ben… you have no idea how wonderful this is…" her voice trembled between sobs and laughter. "You have a Quirk… you finally have a Quirk !"
"It's more than that," my dad muttered, still stunned. "That's not normal. That was raw power. Thermal control, physical transformation... seriously impressive."
"Yeah…" I nodded.
"Son, why didn't you tell us sooner ?" my dad asked, finally stepping closer.
"We could've helped you."
"I… didn't know how," I looked him in the eyes, sincerely. "I didn't know if you'd see me as a stranger. As a monster. I spent my whole life being the Quirkless kid. And suddenly… this. I just wanted to understand it before scaring you."
My mom hugged me again, tighter this time, like she was trying to make up for every year I cried alone.
Then my dad turned to the principal, his gaze hardening.
"Alright. Now that we know… tell me, Mr. Principal. What exactly was that boy doing to our son before being launched down the hallway ?"
The principal shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Well… according to the footage, he and two other students cornered Ben. There was a slap. And then…"
"A slap ?" my mom stepped away, eyes wide. "They hit him first ?"
"Technically… yes," the principal replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But the response was excessive. Very excessive."
"Oh, excuse me," my dad crossed his arms, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Our son, who's been bullied for years and physically attacked today, finally has the ability to defend himself and he's the problem ?"
The principal stayed quiet, without an answer.
"You know what's really excessive ?" I said, voice firm. "Being cornered by three idiots every day for years while no one did anything. Not teachers. Not hall monitors. Not even the principal."
Silence.
The principal tried to open his mouth, but my mom cut him off:
"I want those students' names on record. And I want to know what action the school will take. Because now, with or without a Quirk, Ben is not alone."
"I'll speak with the parents involved…" he murmured, defeated.
I took a deep breath. Saying all that out loud… it felt freeing.For the first time, I wasn't just the invisible kid. The "no-talent," the Quirkless.