On a sunny morning, ten people are standing in line at a 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.

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

The lone security guard in the bank reaches for his gun, but the first robber shoots him in the chest. The guard falls on the floor, holding his chest in pain as one of the robbers takes his gun.

Robber 1: Alright, everyone, get on the fucking ground! I ain’t afraid to kill!

Everyone quickly gets on the ground. Two of the robbers hold them at gunpoint. The second robber walks over to the Manager’s office while the first robber walks up to the Bank Tellers, pointing his gun at them.

Robber 2: Alright, Mr. Manager, get on out here now! And no funny business or we’re gonna have one less hostage to keep track of!

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. The manager leaves his office with his hands up, the second robber holds his gun to the back of the manager’s head. Robber 1 clasps his hand on the Manager’s forehead. The manager looks at him, horrified.

Manager: Wha- what are you doing?

Robber 1: What is the code to the vault?

Manager: Why would I 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.

The two robbers approach the vault. The first robber 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 holds out his hand, the dollars start to levitate into bags quickly.

Robber 2: Damn, we should have brought some bigger bags!

Robber 1: Whatever, this is more than enough, for now. We can always just rob another bank.

The other two robbers hear sirens.

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

Robber 4: Right!

Robber 4 holds out his hand to make the wall of the bank go translucent. They see five cop cars parked in the street with officers standing behind their open doors with their guns pointed at the front door.

Robber 3: So far, so good.

Robber 4: Yeah, it’s looking clear.

The police stand ready for the robbers.

Cop 1: Do we know how many there are?

Cop 2: Criminals or hostages?

Cop 1: Both!

Cop 2: The caller said they saw four heavily armed masked men go inside; we don’t know how many people were inside when they entered.

Cop 1: That’s not good, not good at all.

Cop 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.

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

The first two robbers return from the vault with their duffle bags filled with money.

Robber 1: How’s it looking out there?

Robber 4: Just cops, no heroes.

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!

They all head to the front doors and huddle around Robber 3.

Robber 1: Ready?

Robbers 2, 3, and 4: Yessir!

The four burst out of the bank in their current formation. The cops instantly start opening fire. Robber 3 hits his fists together, and a giant light blue translucent dome forms around the four robbers. All of the bullets fired by the cops bounce off the dome, not even making a dent.

Robber 1: Oh, hell yeah!

Robber 2: Works like a charm.

Robber 3: Yeah, no matter can pass through my barrier, they can’t do anything to stop us now!

Cop 1: *yelling* Cease fire!

The cops stop shooting.

Robber 1: Now that we have them where we want them, let’s make our getaway! Paul’s waiting for us in the car; we’ll drop a smokescreen and make a run for it.

Robber 2: Sounds good.

Robber 4: Roger that.

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

Robber 1: *yelling* Sorry, pigs, but this is where we make our exit!

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

The four robbers look around in confusion.

Robber 1: Who the hell said that?

Muffled Voice: 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 from the ground beneath the robbers sending them flying through the air.

Cop 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 all land flat on their backs, and the cops quickly surround them.

Cop 1: Sorry, villains, but it looks like your plan has been thwarted!

The robbers put their hands up and surrender.

Robber 1: *frustrated grunt* Goddamnit! 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 that all of my friends are going to jail! This heist was going to give me the money I need to pay my goddamn rent! This fucking sucks!

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

Paul: God, I fucking hate heroes!

The cops handcuff the robbers and confiscate 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 are all surrounding the scene taking pictures of Metro Mole as he waves to them all.

Bystander 1: We love you, Metro Mole!

Bystander 2: Thank you for getting those villains off the streets and behind bars!

Bystander 3: I feel so much safer knowing Metro Mole is here to help us!

Two cops approach Metro Mole.

Cop 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 a thing.

Cop 1: Hardly did a thing? You did everything! And now we can put these villains in jail where they belong.

Cop 2: Yeah, and those guys had some unique quirks to boot: Mind Reading, Telekinesis, One Way Mirror, and Bubble Shield. That’s a nice haul of villains to put away.

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

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

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

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

Metro Mole grabs the paper.

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

Cop 2: No, sir, it’s a citation for the destruction of a public sidewalk.

Metro Mole: Wh-

Metro Mole reads the fine and falls to his knees.

Metro Mole: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Narrator: That’s what a typical day in today’s society looks like, well, not exactly like that, but you get the point, right? I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Adam Hayze; I mostly go by Hayze. Going by my first name just felt like a chore after a while; what can I say? Anyway, that’s all you need to know about me for right now. The first incident was in New York City, an extraordinary child was born who radiated light. After that, reports of people with superpowers popped up across the globe; no one knew what was causing these quirks. Before long, the supernatural became normal, dreams a reality, the world became a superhuman society with about 80% of the population possessing some uncanny ability. Our streets looked like scenes from comic books as cities swirled with chaos and confusion. A new profession dominated our collective consciousness; it was an age of heroes. With the rise of Superpowers came an explosive increase in criminal activity. Simultaneously, while governments were stuck trying to figure out how to reform laws with quirks in mind, courageous people started to perform heroic acts to keep our cities safe, protecting us against villains who used their powers for evil. With overwhelming public support, heroes found an official place as peacekeepers overseen by the government. Those who performed the best were paid the most and got all the fame and glory. Their careers depended on their ability to stay in the spotlight. 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 have to understand 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, understand how your quirk can be a blessing or a curse if misused, and most importantly, you have to realize that at times people’s lives are in your hands and that one mistake can have immense consequences. That is the hardest pill for wannabe heroes to swallow; they won’t give out a Hero License to just 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 quirk, you can carve out a path towards becoming a pro. That’s what I thought anyway, that if I just kept trying and put every ounce of effort into achieving my dream, that nothing could stop me, but alas, the world is a cruel place of unfairness that can’t be avoided. We all wish that we could achieve anything that we put our minds to with enough effort. But then there comes 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 just simply can’t be achieved. I was born with a weak quirk, a poor excuse for a superpower, but I still want to be a hero. Talent is a wall 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 just wasn’t lucky enough to be born with a useful quirk, and no matter how hard I try, I’ll never succeed. I’ve wanted to save people my whole life, but unfortunately, I was born a disappointment.

Open to a high school on a rainy day, the bell rings, signaling the end of the day. Many students leave out of the front entrance and head to their respective cars or school buses. Hayze also leaves, but he walks home all by himself.

Hayze: (Being a senior has its perks, but it’s still stressful all the same. The whole college application process in and of itself is enough to give teenagers gray hairs. Although it was easier for me, there’s only one school I want to go to.)

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

Hayze: Hm.

Hayze starts walking in their direction.

Bully 1: Alright, 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!

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

Bully 2: You’re just some nerd; we play football, which means we’re better than you!

Bully 3: Yeah!

The bullies’ leader 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 quirks!

The leader sprouts a third arm from his forehead and grasps the kid’s neck.

Scrawny Kid: *choking*

The skin on the second bully’s hands transforms into bricks. The third bully levitates some sharp pencils from his backpack and points them at the kid.

Bully 1: Tell me, kid, what kind of quirk 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 quirk! You’re pathetic.

Bully 2: Everyone knows that quirks are everything! If you don’t got one, then you’re nothing.

Bully 3: Yeah!

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

He tightens his grip on the kid’s neck.

Bully 1: This arm has made me the best quarterback this school has ever seen! And someday, I’m going to get into U.A. and be the best hero ever too!

Hayze: *offscreen* A quirk like that is bound to win you more “best hand job” contests than make you a good hero.

The bully releases the kid.

Scrawny Kid: *gasps for air*

Bully 1: Who said that?

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

Hayze: I think it was your buddy.

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

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

Bully 3: Yeah!

The leader approaches Hayze.

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

Hayze: Call me Hayze.

The leader stops.

Bully 1: Wait… you’re Hayze?

Hayze’s eyes narrow.

Hayze: (Here we go…)

The three bullies start laughing.

Bully 1: You’re that orphan kid with a lame-ass quirk!

Bully 2: You’re just as pathetic as the kid with no quirk!

Bully 3: YEAH!

While the bullies are laughing, Hayze assesses the situation.

Hayze: (Three on one, their quirks are a third arm, brick hands, and levitating small objects. Two short-range fighters, a single long-range. Judging by their leader’s bravado, he’ll probably attack first instead of all at once. 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.)

The leader steps forward.

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

He lunges at Hayze.

Bully 1: Take this, you pathetic clown!

He 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!

The bully 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?)

The bully’s third arm grabs Hayze’s head.

Hayze: (Nope…)

The bully begins beating the shit out of Hayze.

Bully 1: You thought your dirty tricks would be enough to beat me? You need a quirk if you ever want a chance in a fight! My quirk is all I need!

The bully 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 garbage! You shouldn’t have tried to play the hero!

The bully finishes beating up Hayze, leaving him a bloody pulp lying against 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 quirk to fight with!

Hayze: *groans* You alright?

Scrawny Kid: Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You probably wouldn’t have gotten beat up so bad 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 over a guy like me.

Hayze: I have my reasons…

The kid stands up.

Scrawny Kid: (Weirdo…)

The kid runs off.

Hayze (Narrating): It may have required me getting my ass kicked, but at least I saved that kid from a pretty bad beating. You might think that 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 quirk is called Heal Factor; I can heal injuries like bruises, sprains, and cuts in mere seconds. Any damage to my internal organs, skin, or ligaments heals rapidly as well. Fractured or broken bones heal quicker in me than an average human, but it would still be a long recovery. Of course, if I’m tired, the healing is slowed down substantially. My quirk is precisely what it sounds like: underwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than nothing, but I didn’t get the luckiest of draws... that’s for sure. There’s almost no way for me to carve out a career as a hero, but that’s not gonna stop me.

Hayze stands up, wipes the blood off his face, and dusts himself off. Then he resumes walking back to his house.

Hayze: (That was softer than I was expecting, no broken bones or anything.)

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 Adam Hayze.

Hayze: Yeah… and you are?

Man: I’m the admissions officer from U.A., Bradley Hunt.

Hayze gets a look of surprise on his face.

Hayze: (What? U.A. 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 for me to say no with it raining and all.

They enter Hayze’s house.

Hayze (Narrating): U.A., also known as United Academy, is a school where students learn and train to become heroes. U.A. is the #1 ranked college for heroics and is considered the top Hero Academy in the United States. Students are separated into specific Departments and Classes. A through K. At the entrance, a security wall is nicknamed the "U.A. Barrier" that automatically closes if a person does not have a Student ID Card or Special Entry Permission ID. Many precautions have been made to keep members of the press and villains out. As you can probably tell, it’s a very prestigious school. Almost all of the top heroes attended and graduated from U.A. Nothing is ever sure-fire in this world but attending U.A. sets you up with the best possible chance of becoming a hero. That’s why I need to get accepted.

Hayze and Mr. Hunt sit down at a table.

Hunt: Might I ask why you live alone? Where are your parents?

Hayze: Dead.

Hunt: Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t-

Hayze: Don’t worry about it; I’ve had a decade of my life to get over it. They were a great healing duo; they saved countless lives using their quirks. When I was really young, they died in a catastrophic event after saving nearly 3,000 people from certain death... they died as they lived... heroes.

Hunt: Wow.

Hayze: Yeah... My dad could heal anyone’s broken bones, and my mom could heal any scratch, bruise, organ injury, ligament tear with extreme speed... I ended up with both of those combined, but I can only use them on myself... ain’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.

Hunt: I’m sorry to hear that.

Hayze: My grandparents live overseas, but they pay for the house and send me money every week; that’s how I get by on my own.

Hunt: Well, thank you for the explanation. Now let’s get back to what I’m here for: I’ve kept track of your case for some time.

Hayze: My case?

Hunt: When you failed the H.A.E. exam for the fourth time, I started to keep an eye on your following exams. I’m sure by now you’ve realized that 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: Because that would be giving up, and I don’t do that.

Hunt: Well, maybe 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 United Academy to determine whether a student has what it takes to attempt the U.A. 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 put 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, etc., to determine your physical condition; quirks are not permitted for use in this section. You started with a fairly average score, but you’ve improved each time you’ve taken the exam, partially due to experience but also probably due to the work you’ve put in to improve in this area. You’re slightly above average in most of these categories, well, except for your stamina, which isn’t much to write home about, but it’s not failing. The third part is a quirk evaluation... which you’ve failed all nine times. A proctor evaluates your quirk and asks you a series of questions about said quirk; they score you based on those answers. 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 quirk’s 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 quirk is holding you back, then you’re probably not U.A. 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 about this time?

Hunt: There are three more H.A.E. test days before the entrance exam in August, but I’m here to tell you that your case has caused the school to instate a new policy: the exam can only be taken 5 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. That’s all I needed to say, but I also came here to provide you with this.

Hunt pulls out another piece of paper and hands 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 U.A. general studies program. I know you said you don’t give up, but it’s time to throw in the towel and stop chasing fantasies.

Hayze gets angry.

Hunt: Get mad all you want; it’s not gonna change anything, you have the personality and wherewithal to be a hero, but your quirk will never get you into the hero course. Your grades are solid; 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. You don’t have a family to support you. 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 time.

Hunt walks towards the door.

Hunt: Have a good day.

Hunt leaves the house. Hayze stands in silence, staring at the piece of paper as tears roll down his face. Outside, Hunt opens his umbrella and walks down 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 has parked inside a parking garage, smoking a cigarette.

Paul: Goddamnit, why the hell did that plan fall through? I’m on my fucking own now! Those fucking bastard heroes, can’t they see that we’re just trying to survive! They think they’re so much better than us! I need money; they took away my livelihood, they took away my friends! I know what will cheer me up... I’ll just rob some stupid store or something to get enough money for next month’s rent, who knows, maybe I’ll make some new friends since all mine are fucking gone!

Paul starts up his car and drives off.

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

Inside U.A., Hunt walks into his joint office; his coworker in a lab coat is at her desk.

Woman: Jeez, you look more down than usual.

Hunt: Hello, Dr. Moore.

Dr. 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.

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

Hunt: Not my thing.

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

Hunt: I just had to tell a kid that his dreams will 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 quirk section; his quirk just isn’t up to snuff for being a hero. It’s an interesting one, though.

This piques Dr. Moore’s interest.

Moore: What’s his quirk?

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

Hunt: Oh no, what’s that smile? I hate when you smile.

Moore: Pipe down. I’m just thinking.

Hunt: About what?

Moore: This kid...

Hunt: You’re not thinking of trying what I think you’re thinking of trying, right?

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

Dr. Moore gets up from her desk.

Hunt: Don’t do it, Moore, you could lose your job, you know what happened last time.

Moore: I’m just gonna go talk to the kid; I’m not going to do anything, okay? How far away is he?

Hunt hesitates.

Hunt: Not far, his address is in the file; what are you gonna say to him?

Moore: I’m gonna ask him about his quirk; I need to find out what the extent of his healing really is. Mind if I keep 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. You don’t have a family to support you. 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 time. “

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 guess I should eat something before the night ends.)

He opens his fridge to see it almost empty with no food.

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

Hayze puts his shoes and jacket 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, where is he going at this time of night, though?)

Dr. Moore follows Hayze’s short walk to the store. He walks inside; Dr. Moore gets out of her car and follows him in. After she walks in, Paul rolls up to the store.

Paul: Alright, *puts on mask* I might just kill this clerk because I’m in a bad mood. *cocks Glock*

Inside the store, Hayze grabs some chips and heads to the front counter; Dr. Moore pretends to shop.

Hayze: Hey Al, just these.

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

Hayze: I forgot to eat; I’ve been a little 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: Alright, 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: Alright, kid, you too!

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 back and puts it on the counter.

Paul: And do it quickly, or this kid dies, right here, right now.

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

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

Hayze: How about you put that thing back in your purse, and we see how strong you really are?

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 stupid-

Hayze spins around and tries to grab Paul’s gun; Paul promptly shoots Hayze in the leg; 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* Damnit!

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

Al: Don’t even think about it!

Al has a double-barrel shotgun in his hands and has it 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 just fine, or you don’t, and I get the gun; either way, I win. Now, I’ll be grabbing-

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 hands?)

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

Paul: (What the fuck?)

Hayze is taking heavy breaths.

Hayze: (Dammit, I haven’t fully rested from exercising, so my quirk 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 quirk… 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 to the ground unconscious. Hayze, Al, and Moore look surprised and confused. A hero appears in front of them.

Al: Woah! It’s the Stealth Hero: Spectre, and he’s in my store!

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

Al: Yeah, I think we’re alright.

Spectre: Really? But I heard shots?

Hayze: Yeah, that was him and me.

Spectre looks at Hayze to see blood rolling down his leg but no wound; he approaches him.

Spectre: So, you must have a quirk that lets you heal wounds, huh?

Hayze: Yessir.

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

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

Spectre looks over at Dr. Moore.

Spectre: Are you alright as well?

Moore: Oh, yes, I’m fine.

Al: Yeah, he didn’t even talk to her.

Spectre: Well, I’ll have to wait for the police, and I’m sure they’ll need a statement from the clerk, ma’am, if you’d like to go, that’s fine.

Spectre turns to Hayze.

Spectre: If you do not need medical attention, you can go too. There’s no need for a statement from you; I’m sure this store has some cameras, so that’s all the evidence we need.

Al: Yeah, Thanks for the help Hayze.

Hayze: Alright, well, if I’m needed, I live down the street, Al knows where.

Hayze and Moore leave the store. Hayze starts to walk back to his house.

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 are not many people that dare to do that, let alone your age.

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 teacher at U.A.

Hayze pauses.

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

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