VOLUME 1: The Hero's Not-So-Little Secret
Some were born to be heroes. Others were shoved into the position by chance—whether they wanted to or not. Alfie was a prime example of the latter.
He had just turned twenty-five on November 23, 1982. Yet, as the sun began to rise, he found himself standing in his kitchen, staring at a lifeless body.
Quin Octava.
His best friend. An Esper. Someone with the darndest superpower to ever exist—he could manifest his lies into reality. Though only Alfie knew this. A secret between the two of them. Publicly, Quin's blood was known to melt monsters.
Now, Quin lay motionless. Lips tinged blue. Bloodshot eyes. And… undoubtedly dead.
Alfie never meant to kill him. He never did.
What had begun as a joyful celebration had ended in an irreversible mistake. Quin had unknowingly drunk the poison Alfie had prepared for someone else.
But there was no time to mourn. No time to even process what had just happened.
The phone in Quin's pocket had been vibrating for a while now—most likely a call from the guild. A rift must have appeared somewhere, bad enough to warrant a call at such an ungodly hour.
Alfie bit his lower lip.
Then, in one reckless, desperate moment—one he would come to regret dearly—Alfie made his decision.
"You'll have to forgive me for this, bro. Hope you rest in peace," he muttered to the corpse.
A sickly green smoke curled out of his body, and a hardbound book materialized in his hand.
He had a superpower, too. But he was unregistered, and nobody—other than Quin—knew he had awakened long ago.
Flipping through the pages, he stopped at a blank one and clicked his tongue. Only three pages remained. After using one on Quin, he'd be left with just two.
His ability was tied to this book, his power limited by the number of pages it contained. There had been ten in total. Two were torn out for some reason. He couldn't recall where they had gone. Five were already filled with profiles of different people: age, height, weight, allergies—every detail.
And now, only three remained.
Holding the book in his left hand, he pressed his right against Quin's forehead.
The sickly green smoke thickened, swirling around them both. Quin's profile began to etch itself onto the blank page—his name, his details, everything.
When the smoke finally dissipated, Alfie was no longer Alfie.
He was Quin Octava.
His face, his build, even his abilities—everything was a perfect replica. So flawless that even Quin's own family wouldn't notice the difference.
This was his ability. The power to steal identities.
Then, as if on cue, Quin's phone vibrated again. Alfie, now in Quin's appearance, picked it up. Just as he'd guessed, it was a call from the guild—and from the guildmaster, no less.
There were sixteen missed calls and four unread messages.
Clearing his throat, he answered.
"Hello?"
His voice had changed seamlessly into Quin's, but that didn't surprise him. It wasn't the first time he'd done this.
"What the hell took you so long to answer? Did something happen? Shit!"
"Why are you cursing? Just tell me what's up already." Alfie mimicked Quin's tone and way of speaking with ease—granted, they basically spoke the same way, having lived together for years.
His ability allowed him to steal a person's identity, but not their memories or personality. Everything after the transformation depended entirely on his acting skills.
The guildmaster sighed before saying, "C-Grade Rift in East Lorenzo, showing signs of expanding and evolving into a B-Grade. Swarms of locust-like monsters, about the size of an adult cat. The bureau specifically requested you. Two trainee espers died. Many are injured. And… I sent Nox your way. Bye!"
Alfie stood frozen even after the call ended. He glanced at the corpse slumped over the countertop, his eyes wavering. If news of Quin's death got out and an investigation took place, he'd be sent to prison. Or worse, executed for killing an esper.
Though technically, he didn't do it.
Had Quin not touched the poisoned wine, he wouldn't have died. But that didn't change the fact that Alfie had intended to kill someone else.
Deep in thought, pacing the kitchen, the phone vibrated again. A message.
NOX MORTEMER: On my way with Taylor.
The message snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. Nox was one thing, but Taylor was another. Nox, who never got along with Quin for some reason, could control dead bodies. Taylor could teleport to people he knew.
"Damn! Damn! Damn!"
Without wasting time, Alfie dragged the corpse and shoved it into the cupboard, removing the sliding dividers and tossing them behind the bathroom door. After struggling with Quin's body, he finally managed to close the door. Just as the lock clicked into place, a large hand pressed down on his left shoulder. He nearly yelped.
The hand belonged to a massive man, over six feet tall, with long curly hair.
Taylor.
Beside him stood Nox.
"Oh! Haaaa… Taylor. Nox. It's just you two. You nearly gave me a heart attack. You should make a noise whenever you do that thing."
Nox frowned. "I clearly texted you." Then he frowned even more, making Alfie tense.
"But… why does it smell like someone just died in here?"
A bucket of ice-cold water might as well have been poured over Alfie, but he didn't let it show. These two still believed he was Quin. And if there was one thing Alfie excelled at, it was lying with a straight face.
"My roommate's dog just died."
"You mean that guy with the perpetually tired face?" Nox asked, his doubt apparent. "Where is he?"
"Out. Buying taxidermy supplies." Alfie answered without hesitation.
But Nox, whose ability let him sense the dead, was convinced the smell belonged to a human. Even with the urgency of their mission, he couldn't shake off his doubts.
"You were putting something in that cupboard earlier. What was it?" Nox motioned toward it. The scent was strongest there.
"Nothing. Just arranging my roommate's collection."
"Collection of what?"
"Must I really tell you? Aren't we in a hurry?" Alfie tried to redirect the conversation to the rift in East Lorenzo.
But Nox wasn't letting it go.
"May I see inside?
Alfie sighed. "I don't really see the point of this. While we're standing here, who knows how many people are dying? Besides, why do you even care? It's just a bunch of jars filled with the preserved corpses of my roommate's old pets."
As he spoke, a bluish screen flickered to life in front of him. Judging by Taylor's and Nox's expressions, it seemed only he could see it. Lines of text began appearing one after another.
Must be Quin's ability, Alfie thought.
[A new host detected.]
[The new host has mastered the art of lying.]
[The ability LIE WEAVER has evolved.]
[Area of influence has expanded beyond the host's body. You may now manipulate your surroundings for five minutes.]
[A BUNCH OF JARS INSIDE THE CUPBOARD CONTAINING PRESERVED CORPSES OF ROOMMATE'S PREVIOUS PETS…]
[Consuming 100 Karma Points]
[Initiating in 5… 4… 3…]
Being the only one who knew Quin's real ability, Alfie had to use every ounce of restraint to keep from smirking. He glanced at Nox, then at Taylor. The two of them genuinely believed Quin's sole power was melting monsters with his blood, never realizing that this was merely a byproduct of his true ability.
"Eh… suit yourself, then," Alfie said with feigned annoyance, stepping aside. He had witnessed Quin's power countless times and was confident in the outcome—though his heart still skipped a beat. More from excitement than fear of being found out.
The moment Nox swung the cupboard doors open, the stench of death hit him like a wall. His stomach twisted, and almost wanted to throw up. But instead of Quin's corpse—the one Alfie had shoved in earlier—the shelves were filled with transparent jars of various shapes and sizes, each containing a preserved animal. A guinea pig. A ball python. A caracal. A parrot. A skunk. A ferret. In total, twelve jars.
"Ha! Your roommate is insane! Tell him to go see a psychiatrist!" Nox scoffed before turning to Taylor. "Let's go. We've wasted enough time."
Taylor nodded and activated his ability.