The headquarters of the Universal Academy of Heroes did not resemble anything heroic.
No banners. No symbols of pride. No glorified statues.
Only steel-gray walls, controlled lighting, and silence designed for efficiency.
Lacky Iman walked beside Alia Bhardwaj through a narrow corridor. Neither spoke. The air itself felt regulated—clean, measured, intentional.
They entered a circular briefing room. At its center, a transparent screen activated.
Alia didn't waste time.
"After the Second Big Bang," she said, "a universal interface emerged within all living beings."
The display shifted.
"We call it NORD. Every entity has it. Most remain dormant. Some awaken."
Data streamed across the air.
"When NORD awakens without cognitive stability, it produces PMs—non-sapient manifestations driven by imbalance. They are not criminals. They are consequences."
Her tone was factual. Flat. Informational.
"The Academy exists to reduce civilian casualties caused by NORD instability."
She briefly outlined threat levels, response structures, and containment logic—only fundamentals. No classified knowledge. No hidden truths.
Then she turned to him.
"You intervened during a B-rank escalation," Alia continued. "Team Vidant Obroy would not have survived prolonged engagement."
She paused once.
"Thank you," she said. "You saved our heroes."
There was no emotion in her voice—but there was acknowledgment.
Lacky nodded.
"The Academy offers you an opportunity," Alia said. "Training. Registration. Controlled deployment. Regulation of your NORD output."
Silence filled the room.
Lacky's mind returned to the battlefield—burning streets, broken heroes, panic that refused to fade.
"I don't want this," he said finally. "What happened was coincidence. I'll help if I'm present—but I don't want to live this life. I want normal."
Alia listened without interruption.
"Your decision is recorded," she replied.
She deactivated the screen.
"It will be forwarded to CEO Corlo Flank."
No disappointment. No persuasion.
"Your NORD signature will remain under passive observation," she added. "This is procedural."
She looked at him once more.
"The Academy can assist in stabilizing your power to prevent unintended escalation. That support remains available."
Minutes later, the airship descended near his apartment.
The city looked unchanged.
Before leaving, Alia stopped.
"This was an opportunity," she said. "You chose."
She stepped back into the craft.
The ship lifted into the night without sound.
Lacky stood alone outside his apartment, keys resting in his palm.
Behind the door—his normal life.
Above the city—systems silently tracking his existence.
The opportunity had passed.
The consequences remained.