Pedro Picard is as timid as mice. Has been, always been and he's ashamed of it. At the tender age of eight, he's already running and skittering.

As a member of declining nobility, he is subject to contempt and the greedy eyes of outsiders. He can still remember that day when their estate was overrun by villains.

The raw instinct to survive kicked in, and his awareness that he was weak made him adapt to the situation. He hid, ran, and escaped. He survived even though he is weak.

But at what cost?

Not enough. That’s for sure. His family was reduced to cinders in the flames of overwhelming oppression. The Picard name was tarnished. And his home razed to the ground.

That memory kept him going. Finally, he arrived at Heromaker Academy.

It will be his crib. There, he will be nurtured through real battles and protected from battles he ain’t ready for yet. The Picard name won’t vanish in the vestige of time but be resurrected.

That’s why no matter what, he will persevere and endure his time in the academy. He thought his desire for revenge would be the driving force that’ll make him strong.

But it is not.

Back in the enrollment assessment’s second part, he barely overcame them as he relied on his martial arts, wits, and his glowing ability to momentarily blindside his enemies.

He set up traps born of human ingenuity. He hunted like how a hunter would and succeeded barely surviving the whole ordeal. At that time, he even doubted whether the assessment possess any humane or heroic aspects to it.

Pedro’s only superhuman qualities are his physique that doesn’t sweat and rarely tires, and his glowing ability that’s a one-trick phony at most.

This is the hand that he was dealt with. A hand too weak, that revenge is just too far out of reach.

His desire for revenge will remain forever a fantasy as he lacks the means to enact it. He can’t become strong just by the thought of ‘revenge’ alone. He needs power.

Real sustainable power.

So when a classmate of his own hinted to him that he can have it, Pedro was greatly elated. The mysterious absentee who only attended class today was cryptic about it, but Pedro understood nonetheless.

Pedro imagined the face of his oppressors, Rodney, Lee, Hitch, and the vague silhouettes that razed his home. He will be coming for them. Before, it was a question of ‘if’, but with real power at hand, it would then only be a question of ‘when’.

He was desperate for power and no matter how slim the chances are, he’ll gamble for it. He climbed the stairways in neither hurry nor hesitation. He carried himself with a calm air outwardly.

A sense of rationality is maintaining his gait. Anxiety and hope fought inside his mind in a balance.

Finally, Pedro reached the rooftop. Under the illumination of the full moon, the figure of the mysterious student revealed himself.

It is him, ‘Alfir, was it?’ The lucky champion has been a hot topic for a short while after the enrollment assessment. Alfir, that same person who suddenly attempted suicide but failed.

Pedro felt his hopes slowly going away. For a moment, he thought of leaving already. However, in the end, he decided to hear Alfir at the very least. He is here anyway, what’s a minute or two for him?

“If this is a prank, stop it…” He called Alfir, the mysterious student.

“Nope, it’s not a prank. I am serious. I have a method to get you stronger. Have you heard of the Soul Method?”

Pedro frowned at the unheard and unfamiliar method. His doubts just continued to rise. Turning his back away from Alfir, he spoke in a somber voice. “It’s enough. Thank you, it’s the thought that counts.”

When he was about to leave the rooftop from the door where he came from, a woman suddenly barred his way. Her pink hair and unique charms are a trademark distinctive to Zia Zaratul.

“Wh—at?” Pedro was flabbergasted. Why one of the most influential people in the classroom is suddenly here on the rooftop in the middle of the night?

“I told you, I can make you stronger.” Chills ran down Pedro’s spine as Alfir openly claimed that he can make him stronger.

“How?” Pedro cautiously asked, with a glimpse of excitement and expectations obvious in his eyes.

“How? No, it’s a question of what? What it is that you are willing to give up to gain greater power?” Like the devil’s whisper, Alfir’s words echoed in his ears.

“Fear? Love? Instinct? One of the five senses? Remember, you can’t choose more than one, or else it will drive you crazy.”

“I… I…” At the last minute, Pedro took hold of his thoughts. Does he really want this? Hesitation colored his eyes.

“Do it,” From his back, Pedro felt Zia’s breath. “Only power can free you…”

Pedro gulped, and his heart was finally resolved. So, he spoke.

“I am willing to give up my timidity… I don’t want to run anymore or hide. Fear of my weakness has been a disease that I can’t get rid of. Even if I were to become strong, I’d still choose to run over and over again. Not wanting to fight, to play it safe. So please, get rid of my fear.”

…

I smiled at his honest desire to gain power.

Soul Method. It’s a method I used to gain my mutation. With it, I hope to strengthen my selected few. After some experimenting, I was able to replicate MINION#12193’s mutation of deleting emotions.

We were one person 12193 and I, to begin with, so it’s no surprise my mutation will have the feature of deleting emotions. This is my revised Soul Method in a nutshell.

I altered the method greatly so that it can reawaken the mutation of others. Most importantly, I made it safer. With me as taking the brunt of mental damage, I will be able to gift people with strengthened mutations.

Strengthened is not really the right word. It’s more of a rediscovery of their mutation.

Zia connected her psychic tendrils to me. I had experience shutting off some of my mental faculties, so I can make this work.

Honestly, my ability to delete emotions is quite weak. This is why I called Zia here. With her help, I hope to amplify the effects of my mutation’s new feature. It’s a surprise to me that Zia can also share the mental burden as such easing the process a whole lot more.

Pedro shuddered as whites fill his eyes. My palm is on his forehead, and Zia’s whip is firmly holding him from his arms to his waist.

That day, the timid lights were no more, and what replaced it is a pulsating brightness.