Have you ever felt like your life is worthless? That even when you try to live a normal, quiet life, nothing you've done really matters? I have. I've felt that way many times.
I spent my whole childhood in a small town north of Hervan National Park. It was a beautiful place, until a superhuman blew up the town center and killed fifty people. I didn't lose anyone particularly important in that incident, just a friend, the only one I had growing up. He was murdered by some lunatic who hated "normal people." I was only six at the time and couldn't understand how someone could do something so horrible just because others were ordinary. Days later, my parents sat me down and taught me a bit of history.
Years ago, humans were exploring outer space, searching for alien life. And they found it. A hostile species called the Vultark sent monsters to our planet, destroying homes, cities, and entire countries. It was a full-scale invasion.
Despite the massive disadvantage, we survived the first waves. But humanity knew things would only get worse. Governments worldwide launched countless projects and research programs. One of them ended up creating something even worse than the invasion itself. In a lab in the nation of Craterra, a virus was born called Gravisoma.
That's why I have to wear a gravitational stabilizing mask (GSM) just to leave the house.
Back then, the virus killed countless people. Infected victims suffered from Gravism, a condition of sudden hyper-gravity that crushed their organs as if their weight increased tenfold. Some experienced inverse gravity or extreme disorientation, leading to suicide, paralysis, or fatal accidents.
Everything seemed lost, but a small percentage of people weren't affected, or at least not severely. Scientists used them as test subjects, and from that, a new human species was born: the superhumans. They became stronger, faster, and tougher than anyone else. Thanks to them, we survived and fought back against the Vultark. That war still goes on today, twelve hundred years later.
"The world went crazy after all that, and so did some people," my mother used to say. She sounded sad, which was rare for her. Back then, she always tried to show the world a smile.
Even the weakest superhuman is hundreds of times stronger than the strongest regular person. And humanity has always found reasons to hate itself. I didn't care much about any of that. But deep inside, I felt empty. I tried to live quietly because I knew nothing I did would ever matter. And when I grew up, all I could think about was the time I wasted. I didn't feel alive.
I needed to start living.
That thought came to me when I got the news.
"I'm sorry to say this, but there's nothing we can do. I'm truly sorry."
At sixteen, the effects of Gravism finally caught up with me. Every day it was harder to get out of bed. I was running out of time, and my family didn't even know. I moved far from home to a distant city, applying to a prestigious academy. I've been here for a couple of months. My parents were confident I'd be accepted, so they got me an apartment of my own. I've lived here nearly two months now. During that time, I've barely spoken to them. I don't know how to tell them. I don't want them to worry. I don't want to be a burden. But more than anything, I don't want their pity.
Days passed. I spent most of them lying on the floor of the apartment, surrounded by beer bottles (thanks to a friendly homeless guy who helped me get them). Everything after that is a blur.
GRROOOAAARGH!!!
I don't know how the hell I ended up in this situation, hiding in a cave crevice, running from a damn dragon.
Wait… now I remember. It was because of that smug bastard. Of course, he looked like a lawyer. Never trust a lawyer. My grandma used to say that all the time when she drank her rum. I should've listened.
GRROOOAAARGH!!!
"Shit! At this rate, it's going to blow out my eardrums."
No matter how I look at it, in the end…
"I wanted this."
I always did. That's my caprice.