Aftermath (Age 10)
Orphaned, But Not Helpless
The next morning, the media exploded with news of the attack. Reporters swarmed the ruins of the restaurant, spewing scripted sympathy while twisting the truth. The headlines were all the same:
"Villain Attacks Restaurant! Pro Heroes Arrive and Minimize Further Casualties!"
Nowhere did it mention how late they were. Nowhere did it acknowledge that the only survivors were two broken children.
Akira and Alya sat in a dull, lifeless government office, waiting for their fate to be decided. Across from them, two caseworkers whispered among themselves, occasionally glancing at the children with pitying eyes—a look Akira was already beginning to despise.
"They have no living relatives," one muttered.
"The best option is to send them to an orphanage," the other agreed.
Orphanage?
Akira's mind rejected the idea immediately.
No. He wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't allow himself or Alya to be thrown into some place where they'd be treated as pawns for adoption papers. He needed control over their future.
He leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking onto the caseworkers. His voice, calm but chillingly mature for a ten-year-old, cut through the air.
"We don't need an orphanage."
The workers blinked, surprised. One of them sighed. "Sweetheart, I know this is hard, but—"
"I am not your sweetheart."
His voice was like ice.
Alya, still unresponsive, gripped his sleeve tightly, clinging to him like a lifeline. Akira gently squeezed her hand before continuing.
"Legally, our parents left their homes to us. We have shelter. We also have financial assets—savings, accounts, investments. My father was a scientist; my mother was an engineer. They left behind more than enough to sustain us."
The caseworkers looked at each other. "Even if that's true, you're both still children. You need supervision."
Akira leaned back, a small smirk—dangerous and confident—playing on his lips.
"Who says we can't hire one?"
That caught them off guard.
Akira continued, his voice smooth and logical. "We can hire a guardian. Someone to oversee us, make sure everything appears 'normal' on paper. It keeps the government happy. It keeps us independent. We both win."
The room was silent.
The caseworkers exchanged hesitant glances. It was unheard of for two ten-year-olds to live alone, but… he was right. Legally, they had the assets. They had loopholes.
Akira had already won.
One of them sighed. "We'll review your case, but if anything goes wrong, we will take you both into custody."
Akira smiled, but his eyes remained empty.
"That won't be necessary."
The Empty House, The Hidden Lab
That evening, Akira and Alya stood in front of his house.
It was large, too big for just two people now. The silence inside was crushing. What was once filled with his parents' voices, the smell of home-cooked meals, and warmth—now felt hollow.
Alya still hadn't spoken much. Her small frame trembled as she clutched his sleeve like a lost child.
Akira led her inside. He guided her to the couch, wrapping a blanket around her. He made her tea—just like his mother used to.
Finally, he sat beside her. "Stay here," he murmured, brushing her silver hair. "I'll be back soon."
Alya barely reacted, simply nodding as she clutched the blanket tighter.
Then, Akira descended into the basement.
His Parents' Secret
Akira always knew his parents were scientists. What he didn't know was what they were working on.
He stood before the heavy, steel door at the end of the basement, the one his father always told him never to enter. His hands moved automatically, entering the passcode he had seen his father use countless times.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Click.
The door hissed as it unlocked.
Akira stepped inside, his sharp golden eyes scanning the room.
It was a secret lab.
Walls lined with monitors, blueprints, and vials filled with unknown substances. A massive computer terminal flickered to life as he approached.
And in the center of the lab—
A single glass case held a glowing red serum.
His heart pounded. His parents had died for this.
He moved toward the terminal, activating it. Screens flickered, displaying files upon files of classified research. His father's voice echoed through an old recording.
> "If this falls into the wrong hands, it will change everything. Heroes, villains—it won't matter. Humanity itself will be rewritten."
Akira's fists clenched.
This wasn't just some scientific breakthrough. This was something so dangerous that villain himself had come for it.
His mind sharpened, a strategy already forming.
He would uncover the truth.
He would find who was responsible.
And he would burn them all.
Akira reached out, grasping the cold metal of the glass case. His reflection stared back at him—a boy who had lost everything.
And in that moment—
He was no longer a child.
" Time to get my revenge on the fuck bastard who took my peaceful life and both mine and Alya's parents." He said to himself with hands clenched from rage.
He closed his eyes only to see blood, screams and his parents lasts words
"I love you my baby boy"
This were the last words from his mother. A tear fell from his eyes.
"He will suffer fate worse than death"
All for one didn't even know what monster he had awakened which is dangerous than any serum.
- To Be Continued