Author's Notes:
Hey guys, quick warning — this chapter is basically Hayato spiralling into an existential crisis after thinking a little too hard about life. For some of you, it might feel deep and meaningful; for others, it'll probably sound like philosophical nonsense from a guy who desperately needs a nap.
Plot-wise? Yeah… not that important. But character-wise? Let's just say it's Hayato vs. his own brain — and the brain wins by technical knockout.
Oh, and he also ends up making a limiter to seal his powers back to what they were before his Quirk evolved, because apparently, being a walking god got boring.
Everything else here is just a blend of my thoughts and Hayato's midlife crisis in a teenage body. So, buckle up — it's about to get weirdly introspective.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Not all those who wander are lost."
I said out loud to myself, pretending to be profound while inwardly wondering where in God's green earth I ended up at. Everywhere around me all I could "see" was a boundless ocean and—
Hold on. Let me rewind.
The air was… wrong. It was too clean, too crisp, and my breath looked like smoke in the air. There was no sound of traffic, no city buzz, not even the faint hum of power lines.
Just the wind — sharp and cold enough to slap me sober.
My shoes crunched beneath me, and the sound didn't feel right. Not pavement. Not dirt. Definitely not anything that should crunch like that.
I looked down.
White. Just endless white.
And then, as if to confirm my suspicions, a penguin waddled past me. Slowly. Judgingly. The little guy didn't even flinch — just stared at me like, "Another one?"
It tilted its head, blinked once, and turned away like I wasn't even worth reporting to the rest of the colony.
That's when it hit me.
I wasn't in Japan. I wasn't even on the right hemisphere.
By the looks of it, I'd just taken the scenic route straight to Antarctica.
All because I wanted to test where I'd end up if I ran with my eyes closed and my domain deactivated — to see if instinct alone could bring me back home.
Spoiler alert: it couldn't.
"How did I end up playing these stupid games when I'm supposed to be researching the panacea for Quirk users..?"
I muttered, as yesterday's mess came back to haunt me like a bad rerun.
After the Sports Festival, everyone expected me to feel proud. Victorious. Maybe even emotional. But really? I felt bored.
You can't exactly celebrate a win when you know you were holding back the whole time. The only part that even felt real was when I decided, on a whim, to kill a few hundred—or was it thousand?—villains across the world.
Call it mass murder, call it divine intervention; I just cleaned up the trash. A global house-cleaning spree. You'd think it'd feel heroic. It didn't. It just felt… quiet.
That should have been the kind of thing that either horrified me or vindicated me. Instead it left me hollow. Maybe it's because I didn't grow up clawing for survival.
If my Quirk had been weak, if every breath had been a struggle, I wouldn't have had the luxury of moral philosophy — I'd be too busy living. But I'm not starving.
I'm the son of one of the richest men alive, armed with a Quirk strong enough to have its own user manual. My biggest struggle is finding something that doesn't bore me to death.
And the cherry on top? Watching the news pretend they knew what was happening. They called it a coordinated strike, said an unknown organization was "on the loose."
Whole governments vanished, shady officials disappeared, and suddenly the world's handing out bounties like party favours.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting in my room, watching the chaos I caused like it's prime-time entertainment. They think it's some terrifying shadow group. I think it's hilarious.
Because they don't know the truth. They don't know I wiped out the worst of humanity in one night. They don't know their so-called victims were monsters.
To the world, it's a mystery. To me, it was just Tuesday.
And that's the curse of it, isn't it? While one starves for power, another drowns in it.
And after that sudden philosophical meltdown, I didn't exactly have the heart—or the energy—to do any meaningful research. The "Panacea for Quirk users" could wait. The world wasn't ending today, probably.
So instead, I decided to do something more "productive." You know, fun experiments. Like checking if I had some kind of sixth sense or divine GPS that could guide me home if I turned my brain off and ran full speed across the planet.
My instincts are about as reliable as public Wi-Fi.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. I trained like a maniac for almost eight years to get this strong. Back then, I had drive, goals, ideals—the whole protagonist starter pack. I actually believed I was destined to change the world.
And now that I've finally started doing it? Turns out it feels… wrong.
Not the killing part. Not even the power. Just the idea of forcing my will on others, even if I think I'm right. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being a hero, a villain, or anything in between—and became my own judge, jury, and philosopher all rolled into one tired human being.
It's funny. I spent years chasing strength to make a difference, and now all I can think about is how much responsibility comes with it.
And honestly? Responsibility is exhausting.
Lately, I've been feeling… aimless. Like everything I've done, every goal I've chased, suddenly doesn't mean anything anymore. It's like I've drifted so far from reality that even when I try to grab onto something real, it slips through my fingers.
And having a Quirk that can literally brainwash people and rewrite memories? Yeah, that doesn't help. When you can bend perception, reality itself starts to feel optional.
Sometimes I wonder if the world around me is even real—or if it's just another illusion I built to make myself feel less alone.
I know, I know. That sounds ridiculously dramatic. I'm self-aware enough to realize I'm being a walking existential crisis. Life's always been meaningless; it's just that now I finally have too much time and power to notice.
But still… knowing that doesn't make it any easier to accept.
If I kept thinking like this, I'd probably end up as one of those cold, detached monsters who justify everything as "for the greater good." And honestly, that's a terrible brand image.
So, I figured I should set some new, realistic goals—something to keep me grounded.
That's when I had a revelation. A truly humbling one.
I was an absolute rookie when it came to love. Not just in this life, but apparently in my past life too. Zero experience. No data. No clue. And recently, that fact's been hitting a little too hard.
I've been talking less and less with Momo—avoiding her, actually. Subtly. Because deep down, I started to wonder if what we're feeling for each other is even real… or just my passive ability messing with her mind. Maybe she's not in love with me—just the version her brain's been edited to like.
And honestly, that thought terrifies me more than any villain ever could.
So from now on, I decided to actively nerf myself.
Not too much, of course — I'm not an idiot. Going full pacifist when I can literally blink people out of existence would just be… stupid. But having my domain constantly active across the entire planet was getting exhausting.
Imagine hearing every cry for help, every crime, every little wrong thing in the world — 24/7. You'd either go crazy trying to fix it all or just stop caring.
And let's be honest — I've never exactly been the "selfless hero" type. I don't help people because it's the right thing to do. I help people because I can. Because it makes me feel a little less like a cosmic mistake with too much power and not enough hobbies.
But maybe I've done it too much. Maybe I've played god so often that now even I feel like the world's starting to glitch around me. So, I decided it's time to stop meddling. Let nature take its course.
Maybe someday, I'll regret it — maybe the world will burn and I'll think, "Yeah, that one's on me." But if I didn't stop now, I'd probably end up becoming someone I'd regret even more.
So, after a bit of tinkering with my system, I created a new skill — a limiter. Something that seals away part of my strength, locking me back to what I was before my Quirk evolved.
I'd still be the strongest person on the planet, obviously — let's not get delusional — but at least I wouldn't be omnipotent.
And with that resolution, I finally decided to start living an actual life again. Not as some walking deus ex machina, but as... me, whatever I was supposed to be I guess.
Maybe for once, I can stop following the script and just exist — not as the main character, not as the villain — just a guy trying to figure out what comes after "ultimate power."