Three months after Alex met Gwen and Peter, the three of them became best friends, mainly because they shared almost identical interests—superheroes and studying. Since then, they formed a small group where, once a week, they would meet somewhere to study together and talk about heroes.
Currently, Alex is at his part-time job. He takes care of the stock in a small shop near his house. Of course, he can't appear at the front of the store, but he handles everything in the storage area and can do whatever he wants there.
Life has been going very well for Alex. He now has some extra money and has started saving for his future.
But at this moment, Alex is in the middle of a strange city he doesn't recognize—and what stands out the most is the fact that it is completely destroyed.
Alex looks around and sees charred bodies, as well as blood and dismembered corpses scattered everywhere. Yet, even seeing such things, he—who had never seen a dead body in his life—does not react. He feels nothing.
The more he looks around, the more he realizes that much of the destruction bears deep slash marks. Whether on bodies or buildings, everything is carved with cuts.
His body ached all over, but it didn't make the slightest difference to him. Even in pain, it didn't seem to hurt.
His eyes shift toward a man covered in lightning.
"Sukuna… were you born the strongest, or did you become the strongest?"
Alex wanted to ask who Sukuna was, but something whispered inside him, answering that he himself was Sukuna.
"Who knows… I think I was at least the unwanted child."
A distortion runs through Ale—Sukuna's vision, and now he is pointing one of his hands at the man covered in lightning, while the mouth on his stomach begins to speak.
"DRAGON SCALES."
Sukuna feels something happening inside him.
"RECOIL."
He feels an energy moving within him, flowing toward his hand.
"TWIN FALLING STARS."
"Dodge this."
Sukuna says the last words with his upper mouth at the same time his stomach finishes speaking.
And in the next instant—
WHOOSH!
A massive crater shaped like a slash forms on the ground where the man had been seconds before.
BANG
Alex suddenly wakes up in shock, falling off the bed in panic.
Looking around, he realizes he didn't fall—the bed itself broke in half. Frustrated, Alex stands up and checks the time.
It's 5 a.m. Seeing the time and realizing the bed is broken, Alex starts to panic, thinking desperately about what to do—whether he should call his mom or not—but soon calms down, remembering what she taught him.
Breathe in… breathe out.
Alex goes to the kitchen, grabs a glass of milk, drinks it, and returns to his room to see if he can fix the bed. It was very expensive—his mother had to save a lot to buy it. When he kneels down to inspect it—
"Hm?"
The bed wasn't broken. It looked cut—almost as if someone had used something impossibly sharp to slice the base clean in half.
Alex even lifts the bed and fits the pieces together, seeing that they align perfectly.
"What the hell?"
After thinking for a moment, an idea comes to his mind.
"That damn brat Trix… I told her we were in a truce in the prank war."
Knowing that the last great O'Neill prank war was devastating—the house barely survived it, and the civilians (Nora) still carry trauma from the bloody conflict five years ago—
"Looks like I'll have to act as a diplomat for the good of my people (Mom)."
Since he couldn't go back to sleep, Alex decides to grab his phone and look up some recipes to pass the time.
It only takes him ten minutes to learn twenty different dishes, but since he doesn't have ten people to feed, he decides to make pancakes, waffles, and some bacon-and-cheese omelets.
When it's time for his mother to wake up and make breakfast, she walks into a perfectly organized kitchen—along with a breakfast so good it would put hers to shame.
"My God, who broke into my house to make my breakfast?"
"No one, Mom. I made it. Something happened, and I woke up earlier than expected, so I took the chance to cook."
Alex says this while pulling out a chair for her and serving her some coffee.
"I'm going to wake Trix up, okay?"
Alex walks away without waiting for a response and stops in front of a bedroom decorated with cat-themed items. With a determined look, he knocks three times and says:
"Trix, breakfast is ready—and I want to talk to you."
The door opens shortly after, revealing a 14-year-old girl rubbing her eyes sleepily, wearing rainbow cat pajamas.
"You said we were in a truce in the prank war for the good of the people (Mom)."
Trix looks at him, confused.
"But we are in a truce. I didn't do anything."
"Stop joking, Trix. How the hell did you do that to my bed?"
"Alex, you're scaring me. Seriously, I didn't do anything."
Seeing his sister's expression, Alex starts to lose his ironic smile and becomes worried. He runs back toward his room, and when he gets close to his bed, he notices a faint trace of red energy mixed with a bit of purple.
His eyes widen—because that energy is almost identical to what he felt in his dream.
But before he can understand it, he blinks—and the energy is gone.
"What the hell is happening to me?"
Shaken, Alex spends the rest of the morning thinking about what happened.
'Am I developing schizophrenia? Or something like that? Am I going through… a second mutation?'
The idea of a second mutation for a mutant can be both good and bad. For example, you might just have slightly tougher skin—but then a second mutation could give you the ability to shoot lightning from your hands… or turn you into something like a literal amoeba.
'No… impossible. Besides, the change wouldn't be something this simple like breaking my bed…'
The more Alex thought about it, the less it made sense—until, while lost in thought, the bus passed by the Avengers Tower, and he spoke without thinking.
"If only I could be like them and show that mutants aren't so bad."
Unfortunately, someone heard him—and completely disagreed.
"Hey, you little mutant piece of shit, don't think that if you had powers it would change how people see freaks like you. If anything, if your filthy race had even a bit of power, you'd wipe us out."
And just like that, others around him began to agree.
"Did you see the news on the Daily Bugle earlier? Scientists discovered some mutants carry a deadly virus that could cause genocide."
"Yeah, and what if he's one of them? Should we run?"
"Run? No. We humans should unite and exterminate this abominable threat called mutants. I say we kill it now to protect our families."
Realizing what was about to happen, Alex stood up while the speech continued and walked toward the bus door, which was already open—the driver clearly not wanting to explain to his boss why there was blood all over the bus.
"HE'S RUNNING! GET HIM!!"
Unfortunately, before he could escape cleanly, they noticed.
"SHIT!"
Alex jumped onto the sidewalk with all his strength and started running toward his school. They wouldn't be able to enter without a good reason—much less chase a student inside.
Despite his massive, almost superhuman appearance, Alex only had size. His strength was no greater than that of a normal adult—impressive for his age, but nothing extraordinary. So whenever a fight broke out, he ran.
Running for his life, Alex could see the school gates ahead. But as he got close enough to recognize the gatekeeper, panic set in.
A middle-aged man with severe balding sat beside the gate, wearing a jacket with the school emblem and a stern expression.
'DAMN IT, IT'S MR. MILLER! OF ALL PEOPLE, IT HAD TO BE THE ONLY ANTI-MUTANT GUY IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL RUNNING THE GATE TODAY!!!'
Mr. Miller saw Alex being chased and approaching fast. With a wide grin, he calmly began closing the gate.
Right as Alex reached it—
It slammed shut.
"S-Sr. Miller, why did you close the gate?"
"Wow… who are you?"
The crowd caught up and noticed Alex was wearing the school uniform. For a moment, they hesitated—realizing chasing a student could get them arrested.
Then—
"FOR GOD'S SAKE, MR. MILLER, JUST BE DECENT FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE AND LET ME IN!"
Alex shouted in desperation.
Mr. Miller's smile widened.
"OH MY GOD! THIS MUTANT IS TRYING TO BREAK INTO THE SCHOOL DISGUISED AS A STUDENT TO COMMIT A MASSACRE!"
He fell to the ground, pretending to be terrified, shouting loud enough for everyone to hear.
The anger on Alex's face shattered into pure terror as he turned back to the crowd.
Before, if they attacked him, they'd be committing serious crimes—so at worst, they'd beat him.
But now?
If they killed him… they might get medals.
Alex turned back to Mr. Miller, his voice trembling.
"W-What… what did you do?"
"Leveled the playing field."
Hearing that, Alex didn't argue.
He just ran.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD?!"
While running desperately for his life, Alex kept turning into alley after alley, hoping one of them might save him from those psychopaths.
Clutching his bag tightly, he tried to think of something—anything—while sprinting in panic.
BANG!
A loud gunshot echoed.
When Alex looked back, he saw the same man who had started everything. He had pulled a revolver from his bag—and fired.
Seeing that, Alex realized this was no longer about escaping harassment.
This was about surviving.
He pushed himself harder, running with even more desperation than before.
The more he ran, the more panic consumed him. Tears streamed down his face as the fear of death tightened around his chest. In his desperation, he turned the wrong corner—
—and found himself in a dead end.
Alex looked back in horror. They hadn't caught up yet, but it was only a matter of time. Frantically, he searched for any possible escape.
Then—luck.
A fire escape ladder on one of the nearby buildings.
His last chance.
With his height, reaching it was easy. He grabbed onto the ladder and tried to climb—
—but the moment he pulled himself up, his strength failed.
He fell.
'W-What… why?'
Confused, Alex looked down—
—and saw it.
A bullet hole in his abdomen, blood pouring out endlessly.
'Blood loss…'
Realization hit.
His body felt weaker by the second. Sitting on the dirty alley floor, he watched as his lightly tanned skin slowly turned pale.
Before he could think further—
They arrived.
The anti-mutant group, breathing heavily, but still standing.
"Ugh, you disgusting mutant… instead of dying quietly, you had to make us chase you."
"Maybe we should teach him a lesson before killing him… so he understands who's truly superior here."
"Yeah… I agree."
As they argued about how to kill him, Alex's vision began to blur. Darkness crept in at the edges, swallowing his sight little by little.
'Damn… is this how I die? I didn't even date once…'
'Maybe… maybe it's better this way.'
'Maybe heaven isn't so bad…'
'Unless those lunatic religious people are right… and mutants can't go there…'
His thoughts drifted, dissolving into a fog of fading consciousness.
"Fuck it, let's just kill this monster already. We'll hand over the head to the police and rid the world of another mutant threat."
One of them grabbed the revolver and stepped forward.
Standing right in front of Alex, he aimed the gun at his head.
"I hope you regret being born an abomination. Burn in hell—along with your family."
'Damn it… this is so unfair.'
'I never did anything wrong… do I really deserve this?'
Accepting his death, Alex let that final thought pass through his mind.
...
"Pathetic."
____________________________________
Hey guys, I can't keep writing—I'm really tired. It's already past midnight as I finish this chapter, so I'll keep it short.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, I'd really appreciate it if you could rate it or send some Power Stones to support the fic. And if you have any constructive criticism, I'd love to read it!