On a sunny morning, 10 people stand in line at a downtown Nashville, Tennessee bank. The manager looks out of his office and smiles.

Manager: (What a beautiful day! Nothing could ruin this!)

Suddenly, four masked men enter the bank with machine guns and two duffle bags.

Robber 1: EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! NOW!

Manager: *sighs* (Well, at least this may get me out of marriage counseling… God, I hate Cheryl...)

The lone security guard in the bank reaches for his gun, but Robber 1 shoots him in the chest. 

Guard: AHHHHHHH!

The guard falls to the floor, holding his chest in pain as Robber 2 takes his weapon. Robber 1 turns his attention back to the terrified civilians.

Robber 1: DID I FUCKING STUTTER?!

Everyone quickly gets on the ground. Robbers 3 and 4 hold the hostages at gunpoint. Robber 2 walks over to the manager's office while Robber 1 approaches the bank tellers, pointing his gun at them.

Robber 2: Alright, Mr. Manager, get on out here! And no funny business or the blood's gonna be on your hands!

Robber 1: You three! Get out and on the ground with the others, now!

The bank tellers get on the floor with the other hostages. At gunpoint, the manager leaves his office. Robber 1 clasps his hand on the manager's forehead. The manager meets his gaze, horrified.

Manager: Wha- what are you doing?!

Robber 1: What's the code to the vault?

Manager: I'd never tell you-

The manager falls unconscious.

Robber 2: Did you get it?

Robber 1: Of course I did. Let's get this shit and hightail it out of here before the cops show up.

The two robbers approach the vault. Robber 1 enters the correct code on the first try. The vault unlocks to reveal shelves upon shelves of money.

Robber 1: Jackpot!

They unzip the duffle bags. 

Robber 1: Do your thing.

Robber 2: On it.

Robber 2 extends his hand, causing the dollars to quickly levitate into the bags.

Robber 2: We should have brought bigger bags!

Robber 1: Pfft! Do you know how much this shit's gonna weigh? *chuckles* We can always come back!

Robbers 3 and 4 hear sirens.

Robber 3: Shit! Someone must have heard the shot and called the cops! Check outside!

Robber 4: Right!

Robber 4 extends his hand to make the bank wall translucent. They see five police cars parked in the street. 10 officers have their guns pointed at the bank's front door.

Robber 3: So far, so good.

Robber 4: Yeah, it's looking clear.

Outside, the police stand ready for the robbers. The bank's wall is opaque.

Officer 1: Do we know how many there are?

Officer 2: Perps or hostages?

Officer 1: Both!

Officer 2: The caller said they saw four heavily armed masked men; we don't know how many people were inside when they went in. But considering the time of day… It could be a lot.

Officer 1: That's not good, not good at all…

Officer 2: There's nothing we can do if they decide to open fire on the civilians. We're going to have to meet their demands.

Officer 1: *frustrated grunt* We need a hero.

The Robbers 1 and 2 return from the vault with money-filled duffle bags.

Robber 1: How's it looking out there?

Robber 4: Just the cops, nobody else.

Robber 1: Good, that's exactly what we need; let's get the hell out of here!

Robber 2: Yeah, it's payday, boys!

Robber 3: Hell yeah!

The 4 robbers head to the front doors and huddle around Robber 3.

Robber 1: Ready?

Robbers 2, 3, and 4: Yessir!

The four robbers burst out of the bank, opening fire on the police. The officers instantly return fire. 

Robber 3: Not today, coppers!

Robber 3 hits his fists together, creating a giant translucent dome around the four robbers. The police's bullets bounce off the dome, not even making a dent.

Robber 1: Oh, hell yeah!

Robber 2: Works like a charm.

Robber 3: Yeah, nothing can pass through my barrier! They can't do anything to stop us now!

Officer 1: Cease fire!

The police stop shooting.

Robber 1: /Alright, let's make our getaway! Drop the smoke grenades and make a run for the car! Paul's waiting for us!/

Robber 2: On it!

Robber 4: Roger that!

Robbers 2 and 4 reach into their pockets and pull out smoke grenades.

Robber 1: See you later, piggies! This is where we make our grand escape!

Voice: *muffled* Not if I have anything to say about that!

The four robbers look around in confusion.

Robber 1: Who the hell said that?

Voice: *muffled* It was me!

Robber 1: Who is "me?!"

The ground starts shaking beneath them.

Robber 2: What the hell is going on?!

Robber 1: Just drop the damn grenades!

Suddenly, a humanoid mole bursts out of the ground beneath the robbers, sending them flying through the air.

Robbers: AHHHHHHH!

Officer 2: It's Metro Mole!

Metro Mole: That's me!

The impact of Metro Mole breaking through the ground causes Robber 3's fists to separate, making his barrier drop; the four robbers land flat on their backs, and the police quickly surround them.

Officer 1: Sorry, villains, but your plan has been thwarted!

The robbers surrender.

Robber 1: *frustrated grunt* Goddammit! How could this happen?! Our strategy was perfect!

Metro Mole: If by perfect you mean terrible, then yes, indeed it was!

Another masked man is watching from an alleyway in the distance with his van running.

Paul: Are you fucking kidding me?! Those fucking idiots actually got busted! What am I supposed to do now?! All of my friends are going to jail, AND I'M BROKE! FUCK!

Paul bangs his fist against his steering wheel and drives off in the opposite direction of the police.

Paul: I fucking hate heroes!

The police handcuff and arrest the robbers, confiscating their weapons. The duffle bags of money are returned to the bank, the hostages are escorted out of the building, and the injured security guard is taken away via ambulance. Happy bystanders surround the scene, taking pictures of Metro Mole as he waves to them all.

Bystander 1: We love you, Metro Mole!

Bystander 2: Thanks for getting those villains off the street and behind bars!

Bystander 3: I love our friendly neighborhood mole-man!

Two police officers approach Metro Mole.

Officer 1: Thanks for the help, Metro Mole; I don't know how we would have stopped them without you.

Metro Mole: Oh, don't mention it; I hardly did anything.

Officer 1: "Hardly did anything?" You did everything! And now we can put these villains in jail where they belong.

Officer 2: Yeah, those guys had incredible abilities to boot: Mind Reading, Telekinesis, One-way Mirror, and Bubble Shield. That's a nice haul of villains to put away.

Metro Mole: Aw, you guys are going to make me blush!

Officer 2: Oh, and uh… and by the way, Metro Mole...

Officer 2 pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Metro Mole.

Officer 2: This is awkward, sir, but please take this.

Metro Mole takes the paper.

Metro Mole: What is this? A written letter of thanks? You didn't have to! 

Officer 2: No, sir… it's a citation for destroying a public sidewalk.

Metro Mole reads the fine and falls to his knees.

Metro Mole: Wh- I- I- Wh- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Metro Mole cries in agony.

Narrator: That's what a typical day in today's society looks like, well, not exactly like that, but you get the point, right? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ayden, but I prefer to be called by my last name, Hayze. That's all you need to know about me right now. Instead, I need to tell you about the world I live in. 

Hayze narrates a flashback to a hospital where nurses and the parents of a newborn baby watch in shock and awe as the child levitates to the room's ceiling.

Hayze (Narrating): On November 10, 1919, a unique child was born in New York City: A baby who could levitate. And that was just the start… People worldwide began developing signature abilities seemingly out of nowhere. No scientist or researcher could explain how or why this phenomenon was occurring.

The flashback shifts to a man blowing on his hot coffee, only for it to turn into ice, shocking him.

Hayze (Narrating): But it didn't take long for the world to change forever… When all was said and done… about 75% of the population possessed a trademark mutation. Of course, I'm sure you're all thinking the same thing…

A masked man shoots fireballs from his hands, burning down a warehouse.

Hayze (Narrating): Some people used their newfound abilities for selfish and criminal reasons. While others stepped up and utilized theirs to stop them. Thus, a new balance of good and evil was born, and a new career along with it: Professional Heroism. Although the governments of the world were struggling to reimagine laws around trademarks, there was one thing everyone agreed upon: heroes were necessary. 

The first caped crusader shakes the hand of the President of the United States, a moment immortalized in a famous photo.

Hayze (Naratting): Heroes became the official protectors of our society, responsible for preventing and detecting crime and maintaining public order under the government's supervision. A ranking system was established to reward the best heroes with fame and glory. 

A 7-year-old Hayze watches a hero named "Colossus" battle villains on TV.

Hayze (Naratting): Almost every kid's dream is to grow up and be a pro hero, but many of those dreams come unfulfilled. Being a hero takes a considerable amount of effort. You can't just be anybody; you must recognize the responsibilities, the difficulties, and the tragedies that heroes have to live with regularly. You have to know what it means to be a hero and understand how the line between your trademark being a blessing or a curse can be so thin… And, most importantly, you need to realize that people's lives are in your hands, and one mistake can have immense consequences. That's the hardest pill for wannabe heroes to swallow; they won't give out a Hero Badge to anybody. You have to check every single box. Needless to say, becoming a hero isn't the easiest thing, but if you put the work in and master your trademark, you can carve out a path toward becoming a pro. 

Hayze grows quiet in his narration.

Hayze (Naratting): Well, at least that's what I thought. I believed if I kept trying and put every ounce of effort into achieving my dream, nothing would stop me, but alas, the world is a cruel place of unfairness that can't be avoided. We all wish we could achieve anything we put our minds to with enough effort. But then there's this immovable brick wall that can't be avoided no matter how much we wish it could: Sometimes effort isn't enough, and if you aren't blessed with natural talent, your dreams simply can't be achieved. I was born with a weak trademark, a poor excuse for an ability, but I still want to be a hero. Talent is a mountain that can't be climbed. Suppose we're talking about the five stages of grief. In that case, I think I've rotated between the first four for a while now: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, and Depression, but I don't think I've ever slipped into the final stage: Acceptance, accepting that I'll never be a hero because I wasn't lucky enough to be born with great power, and no matter how hard I try, I'll never succeed. I've wanted to help people my whole life, but unfortunately, I was born a disappointment.

The flashback ends. In the present day [May 25, 2017], Hayze is seated in the back of a high school classroom on a rainy afternoon as the final bell rings. Many students leave out of the school's front entrance and head to their respective cars or school buses. Hayze begins the walk back to his house by himself.

Hayze: (Another day down… We're getting so close to graduation. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know senior year's pretty straightforward, but I can't wait to move on to the next phase of my life. I will get into my first choice college. Hell, it's my only choice.)

Just as Hayze is about to exit the school grounds, he notices something out of the corner of his eye: Three muscular-looking students pushing a scrawny student behind the school and out of sight.

Hayze: Hm?

The kid has been backed up against a wall, cornered by the three bullies.

Bully 1: I heard you've been talking to my girl!

Scrawny Kid: We got paired up for an assignment, that's all!

Bully 1: THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY!

Bully 1 slugs the scrawny kid in the stomach.

Scrawny Kid: AHH!

Bully 2: You shouldn't have messed with us! You're just some nerd; we play football, which means we're better than you!

Bully 3: Yeah!

Bully 1 places his hand against the wall and gets in the kid's face.

Bully 1: And you know what else makes us better than you?

Scrawny Kid: Wh- what?

Bully 1: Our trademarks!

Bully 1 sprouts a third arm from his forehead and grasps the kid's neck.

Scrawny Kid: *choking*

The skin on Bully 2's hands transforms into bricks. Bully 3 levitates sharp pencils from his backpack and points them at the kid.

Bully 1: Tell me, kid, what kind of power do you have?

Scrawny Kid: *choking* I don't… have one…

The three bullies start laughing.

Bully 1: You thought you could steal my girl with no trademark! You're pathetic!

Bully 2: Everyone knows that trademarks are everything! Without one, you're nothing.

Bully 3: Yeah!

Bully 1: And if you do got one like me, you can treat people like crap with it! 

Bully 1 tightens his grip on the kid's neck.

Scrawny Kid: *chokes harder*

Bully 1: This arm has made me the best quarterback this school has ever seen! And someday, I'll get into Gen.H Academy and be the best hero, too!

Hayze: *from afar* A trademark like that is bound to win you more "best hand job" contests than make you a good hero.

Bully 1 releases the kid.

Scrawny Kid: *gasps for air*

Bully 1: Who the hell said that?!

The three bullies turn around to see Hayze standing behind them.

Hayze: I think it was your buddy.

Bully 1: Oh, we got a wise guy on our hands, huh?

Bully 2: Now we're going to teach you a lesson instead.

Bully 3: Yeah!

Bully 1 approaches Hayze.

Bully 1: What's your name? You look familiar.

Hayze: The name's Hayze.

Bully 1 stops.

Bully 1: Wait… you're Hayze?

Hayze: *under his breath* Here we go…

The three bullies laugh hysterically.

Bully 1: You're that senior with a lame-ass trademark! HAHAHAHA

Bully 2: You're just as pathetic as the kid with no trademark! Maybe worse! At least he has parents!

Bully 3: YEAH!

While the bullies are laughing, Hayze's eyes narrow.

Hayze: (Three on one, their trademarks are a third arm, brick hands, and levitating small objects. Two short-range fighters and a medium-range. Judging by their leader's bravado, he'll probably attack first instead of all of them simultaneously. If I stun him, there's a chance I can throw the other two off guard and take him out, but it's a small one.)

Bully 1 steps forward.

Bully 1: Alright, let's get this beating over with!

Bully 1 lunges at Hayze.

Bully 1: Take this, you pathetic clown!

Bully 1 attempts to punch Hayze with his third arm, but Hayze anticipates this and dodges.

Bully 1: (What the?!)

Hayze pokes the bully in his eyes.

Bully 1: AHHH! YOU DICK!

Bully 1 covers his eyes in pain. Hayze punches him in the chest.

Bully 1: *pained grunt*

Bully 2: Woah!

Bully 3: Yeah…

Hayze: (Was that enough?)

Bully 1's third arm grabs Hayze's head.

Hayze: (Nope…)

Bully 1 begins beating the shit out of Hayze.

Bully 1: You thought your dirty tricks would be enough to beat me? Maybe try again when you get a real trademark! BITCH!

Bully 1 uses his third arm to keep Hayze in place as he uses his other arms to beat him up.

Bully 1: You're a useless pile of crap! You shouldn't have tried to play the hero!

Bully 1 finishes beating up Hayze, leaving him a bloody pulp lying on the ground.

Bully 1: Let's go, boys. I hate the smell of trash.

The bullies leave. The scrawny kid runs over to Hayze.

Scrawny Kid: W- w- what the hell were you thinking? Why would you try to help me if you didn't have a trademark to fight with?!

Hayze: *groans* Are you alright?

The kid is taken aback.

Scrawny Kid: Sh- shouldn't I be asking you that? You probably wouldn't have gotten beaten up so badly if you didn't make those wisecracks, you know?

Hayze: Yeah, probably, but I wanted to make sure I had his undivided attention.

The scrawny kid stares at Hayze for a moment.

Scrawny Kid: Well… thanks, I guess; I don't know why you'd want to get beat up for someone you don't even know.

Hayze: I have my reasons…

The kid stands up.

Scrawny Kid: (Weirdo…)

The kid runs off.

Hayze (Narrating): It may have required me to get my ass kicked, but at least I saved that kid from those douchebags. You might think what I did was stupid, but this may be the closest I ever get to calling myself a hero.

Hayze's bumps, bruises, and cuts heal rapidly.

Hayze (Narrating): My trademark is called Heal Factor; I can heal injuries like bruises, sprains, and cuts in mere seconds, all at the cost of my overall energy. Any damage to my internal organs or ligaments also evaporates at a "reasonable" pace. Fractured or broken bones heal quicker for me than an average human, but it would still be a long recovery. Of course, if I'm tired, my ability is basically useless. My trademark is precisely what it sounds like… underwhelming. It contradicts itself… You'd think someone who could heal would be able to fight the long fight, but it'll cost me in the war of attrition. Don't get me wrong, it's better than nothing, but I didn't get the luckiest of draws... that's for sure. All it's good for is making me the perfect punching bag. My dad could heal anyone's broken bones, and my mom could heal any scratch, bruise, organ injury, or ligament tear with extreme speed... I ended up with both of those combined but I can only use them on myself... Isn't that some freshly served irony? My parents were two of the best heroes around, and here I am, a bootleg version of what they were. There's almost no way for me to carve out a career as a hero with it, but I wasn't gonna let that stop me.

After a few minutes, Hayze stands up, wipes the blood off his face, and dusts himself off. He then resumes walking back to his house.

Hayze: (That went better than I expected; no broken bones or anything. The guy's so used to fighting with his trademark that his punches with his regular arms are weak.)

Hayze arrives at his house to see a man standing at his door. The man turns around and spots Hayze.

Man: Hello, you must be Ayden Hayze.

Hayze: Yeah… and you are?

Man: I'm the admissions officer from Gen.H Academy, Bradley Hunt.

Hayze gets a look of surprise on his face.

Hayze: (What?! The Academy sent their admissions officer to see me? Why?)

Hunt: May I please come inside? We have much to discuss.

Hayze: Yes, you may; it'd be rude of me to say no, especially since it's raining.

They enter Hayze's house.

Hayze (Narrating): Generation Heroics Academy, or Gen.H Academy, is a school where students learn and train to become heroes. The Academy is the #1 ranked college for heroics and the top Hero Academy in the United States. Being accepted into the school can turn you into one of the most well-known hero prospects in the country. It's to the point where, at the entrance, a security wall is nicknamed the "No Entry Zone" and automatically closes if a person isn't a student or faculty member. Many precautions have been taken to keep members of the press and villains out. As you can probably tell, it's a very prestigious school. Almost all top heroes attended and graduated from Gen.H. Nothing is ever surefire in this world, but attending this academy gives you the best possible chance of becoming a hero. And that's why I must get accepted.

Hayze and Mr. Hunt sit down at a table.

Hunt: May I ask if you're related to Austin and Amelia Hayze?

Hayze hesitates.

Hayze: Yes… I am.

Hunt: I thought so once I saw the description of your trademark. I'm sorry… They were great people. It must have been hard growing up without them.

Hayze: It was, but knowing what they did the day they died made it easier. They saved nearly 3,000 people before…

Hayze goes quiet.

Hunt: I'm sorry for bringing it up. I was just curious… Does that mean you live alone?

Hayze: My grandparents live overseas, but they pay for the house and send me money weekly, so I get by on my own.

Hunt: I see… Well, then, we can move to why I'm here: I've been tracking your case for some time.

Hayze: My case?

Hunt: When you failed the H.A.E. exam for the fourth time, I started to monitor your following exams. I'm sure by now you've realized I'm here to inform you that you've failed for the ninth time.

Hayze: That's predictable.

Hunt: If it's predictable, then why keep trying?

Hayze: That would be giving up, and I don't do that.

Hunt: Well, you should.

Hunt grabs a file out of his bag and opens it.

Hunt: H.A.E., a.k.a. The Hero Aptitude Exam is a three-part examination used by Gen.H Academy to determine whether a student has what it takes to attempt the Entrance Examination, call it a preliminary for the preliminary. Not passing just one of these three parts is an instant failure for the entire exam, regardless of your scores on the others. The first part is simple: a multiple-choice test featuring 100 questions about different situations a hero is in and how you would react, alongside questions about your morality and overall ability to determine right from wrong. You've excelled at this test every time you've taken it. The second test, a physical exam, tests your strength, speed, stamina, etcetera, to determine your physical condition. You started with a fairly average score, but you've improved each time you've taken the exam, partially due to experience but probably primarily because of the work you've put in to improve in this area. You're slightly above average in most of these categories, except for your stamina, which isn't much to write home about, but it's not failing. The third part is a trademark evaluation, for which you've failed nine times. A proctor evaluates your trademark and asks questions about it; they score you based on those answers. 

Hunt pauses.

Hunt: If you keep trying and failing the same way, that isn't perseverance; it's stupidity. You're wasting your time if nothing changes.

Hayze: My trademark has held me back my whole life, but I refuse to let it keep me from becoming a hero.

Hunt: I'm sorry to tell you this, but if your trademark holds you back, you're probably not Gen.H material.

Hayze: Says you.

Hunt: Says the Academy.

Hayze: *frustrated grunt* So why are you here to tell me I failed again in person? What's different this time?

Hunt: There are three more H.A.E. test days before the August entrance exam. I'm here to tell you that your case has caused the school to institute a new policy: the exam can only be taken five times before we consider you a permanent failure.

Hayze stands up from his chair and is visibly frustrated.

Hayze: What?!

Hunt: Don't worry. We'll give you one more crack at the exam because the rule is brand new. Not because we believe you'll pass this time, but out of fairness, to give you one last chance. We could have sent you a letter, but I wanted to see you in person... to provide you with this.

Hayze: Huh?

Hunt pulls out another piece of paper and slides it to Hayze.

Hayze: What is this?

Hayze grabs the paper and examines it. Hunt gets up from his seat.

Hunt: It's an application form for the Gen.H Academy General Studies program. I know you said you don't want to give up, but it's time to throw in the towel and stop chasing fantasies.

Hayze's grip on the paper tightens, crinkling it slightly.

Hunt: Get mad all you want; it won't change anything. You have the personality and wherewithal to be a hero, but your trademark will never get you into the hero course. But with your solid grades, you'd have a serious chance of being accepted as a general studies student. Just because it's not as flashy as the hero course doesn't mean it won't set you up for a well-paying job someday. It's time to let reality sink in, give up on being a hero, and make the right choices for your future. If you don't set yourself up for a promising career, make foolish mistakes, and pursue dreams that will never come true, you're wasting your life.

Hunt stands up to leave.

Hunt: Have a good day.

Hunt exits the house. Hayze stands in silence, staring at the paper as tears roll down his face. Outside, Hunt opens his umbrella and walks onto the sidewalk; he looks back at Hayze's house.

Hunt: (My words were harsh, but there's nobody in his life that can tell him the truth, so I had to.)

Paul is parked inside a parking garage, smoking a cigarette.

Paul: Goddammit, how the hell did that plan fall through?! I'm on my fucking own now! Those bastard heroes! They think they're so much better than us! Can't they see that we're just trying to survive?! I need money; they took away my livelihood AND my friends!

Paul pauses and wallows in the silence.

Paul: I know what will cheer me up... I'll rob some stupid little store or something to get enough money for next month's rent. Who knows, maybe I'll make some new friends since all of mine ARE FUCKING GONE!

Paul starts up his car and drives off.

Paul: (I'm not a bad guy… I'm just desperate.)

Inside Gen.H Academy, Hunt walks into his joint office; his coworker, wearing a lab coat, is at her desk.

Woman: Jeez, you look more down than usual.

Hunt: Hello, Dr. Moore.

Moore: Oh, come on, Brad, we can call each other by our first names.

Hunt: Dr. Moore, we're at work. I'll call you by your last name.

Moore: You should loosen up; it would do wonders for you.

Hunt: You know that's not my thing.

Moore: Well, can you at least tell me why you look down?

Hunt: I had to tell a kid his dreams would never come true.

Moore: Jesus... Why?

Hunt: He's failed the H.A.E. nine times; I thought it was time for someone to break the news to him. The results aren't going to change.

Moore: And why is that? Nine failures are discouraging, but it doesn't mean he's hopeless.

Hunt: The section he's failed every time has been the trademark test; his ability just isn't up to snuff for being a hero.

This piques Dr. Moore's interest.

Moore: What's his trademark?

Hunt takes out and hands Dr. Moore Hayze's file. She reads it over carefully. 

Moore: "Hayze…"Is he-

Hunt: Yes, he is.

Dr. Moore smiles.

Hunt: Oh no… What's that smile? I hate it when you smile.

Moore: Pipe down. I'm just… thinking.

Hunt: About what?

Moore: This kid...

Hunt: You're not considering trying what I think you are, right?

Moore: The kid checks off every box, Brad, strong morals, fit, intelligence, and that trademark... I need more details.

Dr. Moore gets up from her desk.

Hunt: Don't do it, Kelsey. You could lose your job; you know what happened last time.

Moore: I'm just gonna talk to the kid; I won't do anything, okay? How far away is he? 

Hunt hesitates.

Hunt: Not far. His address is in the file; what will you say to him?

Moore: I'm only gonna ask him about his trademark; I need to find out the extent of his healing. Would you mind if I kept this file?

Hunt: No, just return it when you get back.

Moore: Gotcha.

Dr. Moore exits.

Hunt: (Honestly, it's been so long that I had forgotten about her "project," and now that I think about it… she could really help him… but after what happened last time, there's no way she would risk it… I hope.)

In his house, Hayze is lifting weights.

" Hunt: It's time to let reality sink in, give up on being a hero, and make the right choices for your future. If you don't set yourself up for a promising career, make foolish mistakes, and pursue dreams that will never come true, you're wasting your life. "

Hayze: (He's not right… is he? It's not in me to give up, but he said it with such conviction in his voice, I- I just… I don't know.)

Hayze puts down the weights and walks over to his fridge.

Hayze: (Well, I should eat something before the night ends.)

Hayze opens his fridge and sees it almost empty with no food.

Hayze: (Oh yeah... I was supposed to go to the grocery store today, but I got distracted by Mr. Hunt.)

Hayze puts his shoes on.

Hayze: (I guess I'll head to the little store down the street and grab something.)

Hayze walks out of his house onto the sidewalk as Dr. Moore rolls down the street in her car. She looks at Hayze's picture on the file.

Moore: (There he is, but where is he going at this time of night?)

Dr. Moore follows Hayze's short walk to the store. He walks inside; Dr. Moore exits her car and follows him. After she walks in, Paul rolls up to the store, puts on a mask, and readies his Glock.

Paul: This store should be out of every hero's patrol range… I just need to get in and get out quickly.

Hayze grabs a microwave dinner inside the store and heads to the front counter; Dr. Moore pretends to shop.

Hayze: Hey Al, just this.

Al: Hey, Hayze, I don't see you around this time very often. Everything alright?

Hayze: I forgot to eat; I've been distracted today...

Al: You failed your hero test thing?

Hayze: Yeah... 

Al: Ah, man, I'm sure you'll get it next time.

Hayze: One can only hope so...

Al: That'll be-

Paul bursts into the store with his gun out and points it around.

Paul: Alright, this is a robbery!

Al: Oh, fuck me!

Moore: (What? A robbery! What are the chances?!)

Moore and Al put their hands in the air.

Paul: You too, kid!

Paul pokes Hayze's back with his gun. Hayze doesn't put his hands up.

Paul: Why, you little… Clerk, put all the money in this bag!

Paul grabs a grocery bag and puts it on the counter.

Paul: Do it quickly, or this kid dies!

Al: Okay, look, guy, I'm gonna do it. Just don't fire that thing, okay?

Paul: I'll do as I please, and KID, PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP NOW!

Hayze: Man… You picked a bad day to do this.

Moore: (What's he doing?!)

Paul: So, you think you're all tough because you're talking back to a guy with a gun? Well, let me teach you that there is a thin line between bravery and stupidity-

Hayze spins around and tries to grab Paul's gun; Paul promptly shoots Hayze in the leg. 

Hayze: AHHHHH!

Hayze falls to the ground, bleeding and holding his leg in pain. Paul spits on him and approaches the counter.

Paul: Alright, now if you don't want anyone else to get hurt, you better fill that bag-

Hayze kicks the back of Paul's knee, buckling it and causing him to drop his gun.

Paul: What the hell?!

Hayze stands up and attempts to throw a punch at him.

Paul: Not happening!

The skin on Paul's face hardens to steel as Hayze punches it, spraining his wrist.

Hayze: *pained grunt* Dammit!

Paul tries to recover his pistol. His face reverts to normal.

Al: Don't even think about it!

Al has a double-barrel shotgun pointed directly at Paul.

Paul: What are you gonna do? Kill me?

Al: If you try to pick that up, hell yeah!

Paul: Really? I don't think you've got the guts.

Al pulls the trigger as the shots embed into Paul's chest.

Paul: Well, what do you know… You did have the guts.

Al: What? How did you do that so fast?

Paul: I already metalized my chest in preparation for your shot. Either you shoot, and I'm fine, or you don't, and I get the gun; either way, I win! Now, let's get back to-

Hayze punches Paul right in the face, knocking him to the ground.

Paul: (What the fuck is this kid?! He just punched steel, and he's still throwing haymakers?)

Paul looks at Hayze's leg and sees the gunshot wound has shrunk in size.

Paul: (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!)

Hayze is taking heavy breaths.

Hayze: (Dammit, I haven't fully rested from exercising, so my trademark isn't working as fast... My leg isn't fully healed, and my wrist hurts like fucking hell.)

Dr. Moore watches with amazement.

Moore: (This kid… even with his subpar trademark… he's still putting up a fight; he's got the heart of a hero...)

Hayze kicks the gun down an aisle.

Hayze: You should give up… and try… to get away... before a hero shows up.

Paul: What are you talking about?! You're so exhausted that you can't even make complete sentences. I'm in total control here!

Paul turns his fists into metal and kicks Hayze onto the ground.

Paul: Now I'm gonna smash your head into pink mist!

Suddenly, Paul gets electrocuted.

Paul: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Paul falls unconscious to the ground. Hayze, Al, and Moore look surprised and confused. A hero appears in front of them.

Al: Woah! It's the Stealth Hero, Specter, and he's in my store!

Specter: I heard the shot from down the street and came as fast as I could. Thanks for distracting him so that I could sneak behind and tase him. Is everyone here all right? 

Al: Yeah, I think we're alright.

Specter: Really? But who did he shoot?

Hayze: Me.

Specter looks at Hayze and sees his shrinking GSW.

Specter: You must have a trademark that lets you heal wounds, huh? 

Hayze: Yessir.

Al: Yeah, the kid let himself get shot so the guy would drop his guard.

Specter: Well, that was… probably not entirely necessary, but then again, the shot was the only reason I knew to come.

Specter looks over at Dr. Moore. 

Specter: Are you alright as well, ma'am?

Moore: Oh, y- yes, I'm fine.

Al: Yeah, he didn't even talk to her.

Specter: Well, I'll need all of you to stay here until the police arrive so we can get statements from all of you.

Moore: Alright.

Hayze: Fair enough.

The police arrive and arrest Paul, collecting statements from Hayze and Moore outside the store.

Officer 1: Alright, thank you for your time, kid.

Hayze: Am I good to go home?

Officer 1: Yeah, but are you sure you don't want the medics to examine you? That wound is still not fully closed.

Hayze: It'll heal overnight, trust me. It's exhausting me more than it's hurting me.

Officer 1: Fair enough. Have a good night.

Hayze: You too, officer.

Hayze yawns and starts walking away from the store. He passes by Moore standing at her car.

Moore: Hey, kid.

Hayze stops and turns around.

Hayze: Yes?

Moore: That was pretty impressive back there. How you stood up to that armed robber.

Hayze: Thanks, but… I just did what anyone would do.

Moore: Anyone? There aren't many people who would dare to do that, let alone at your age.

Hayze is surprised by Moore's words.

Hayze: Al's a good guy; a robbery like that would put a massive dent in his savings; he's got a family to feed; I couldn't let that guy just walk in and take his hard-earned money.

Moore: Well, that's pretty heroic of you.

Hayze scoffs.

Hayze: I'm no hero.

Moore: But I know you want to be.

Hayze: Hm? How would you-

Moore: I'm a professor at Gen.H Academy.

Hayze chuckles.

Hayze: What? Are you here to tell me my trademark sucks too?

Moore: No, on the contrary… I'm here to ask if you want an upgrade.