Chapter 1: Outcast

The midnight silence could be heard, ringing faintly in the blackness of the night. Clouds above the towers of metal and neon brewed in suspense, tumbling over themselves and churning silently. With sounds of traffic and bristling wind in the air, tonight an important meeting was going to be taking place.

Deep within the slums, where no eyes would bother peeping, two men sat adjacent to each other. Sporting lines of suited men behind them, anyone witnessing such a scene would've fled immediately. Buried deep either in their jackets or behind backs, weapons of all kinds became all too common.

One of the men sitting among dozens upon of dozens grunts, taking a causal sip from his juice box, was surprisingly a young man. His legs laid out from his fold up chair, his neck surely hurting from boorishly hanging from the lumbar support.

"So, buddy, you gotta do something at this point. I thought stand-offs would've broke off into chaos within the first few minutes. But damn, it's been an hour for gods sake! Either accept the deal or f*ck off! You're wasting my time."

"Hmm"

Sitting up right, bordering a robots most basic behaviour, the much older man stared in solemnity. His intentions while not apparent, still served to unnerve the general masses quietly observing.

Not only was he the owner of a major shipping company, his family secretly dabbled in the more sketchy parts of the market. His hands were much dirtier than most people, but his people even more so. Evident with how many politicians and groups dare not touch his business or trade in fear for their life.

"Philip, you're overestimating yourself here. The offer was ridiculous from the very beginning, what makes you think I'll consider it if you bring along your parade of clowns behind you? Don't think for a second you have the upper hand here, you don't have your father here nor your 'elites' from what I see."

The young man scowled, irritation targeted towards the mention of his father.

"Don't bring up my old man, I already hear enough of that from the news. I don't need that from you, what I need you to do is hurry up already and decide!"

His foot jittered. The juice box by now was emptied, crushed and thrown in some obscure direction behind the young man. But the thought of his little drink was long forgotten.

"You carry a lot of value to your father, do you have any idea what you think you're doing? Meeting me in my territory and acting like you're all this, why should I not plant a bullet through your head right now?"

A smile formed on his face despite the clear intimidation tactic. Standing up and walking halfway to the amused man, sounds of clicks and movement resounded in unison.

Meeting the young man's actions was a series of men pointing loaded weapons to the boy's head. Rushing in to at the very least respond to the other's sentiment, the young man's grunts pulled out their weapons, albeit far more disappointingly and less succinctly.

"Because you're an opportunist! How do I now this? Well... don't answer that , cause I won't either. But besides that, I know for a fact that I'm prized as a wealthy business owner's son. You clearly won't waste this opportunity to simply kill me off, would you?"

The man nodded. A big smile growing on his face at the 'reveal'.

"So instead, why not play along. I know you know you heavily benefit from this, so stop being a pain in the ass."

"...Very well, I agree to your proposal. On the condition you supply us with everything we need and you keep this discreet, only between us. Is that clear?"

Seeing how his plan actually worked, the young man became gleeful on the inside. But because the atmosphere was incredibly intense at the moment, he suppressed the urge to celebrate and instead nodded.

"While I do agree to your offer, this comes at a price. The benefits just don't match the risks I'm afraid... Is there anyone you'll miss behind you?"

Starring into each others eyes, one thing became clear. A mischievous and cunning smile just so happened to greet each of them. They were on the same wave length.

"...I see, all according to plan then?"

==================================

"Breaking news: Missing person reports have skyrocketed in the past---"

Lying on the couch and buried beneath a layer of blanket, was a figure of a young man holding a remote. Turning off the tv in his room, he sighed and groaned his way through getting ready for school.

Button-upping his white shirt, pulling pants on and putting on his tie, sweater and blazer, Fran looked at himself in the mirror. What faced him was the look of absolute boredom and eye bags. Cringing to himself, he retreated from the mirror and carried his out bag on the way to the kitchen.

Embracing the silence that was so frequent in the household, he noticed the plates covered by upside down plates. Left overs from breakfast he probably wasn't awake for.

The silence was somewhat unbearable, so his routine passed hastily. Fran sat alone eating his cold breakfast and noting particular happened to draw his attention away from the distance.

Once he left his house he dragged his feet along the cement and pretend to look at the very least unbothered by the stares people gave him. While it was hard getting used to the looks of horror and disgust, truth be told they still hurt, Fran had too.

There wasn't much choice.

Surprise!... As a kid of an evil mastermind shocking and terrorising the world, of course there would be some things to along with it. Public alienation just so happens to be one of them, well not physically, but his social life might as well not have existed in the first place.

But besides that, Fran was just a 'normal' kid. Just an everyday trainee hoping to become a hero like he had seen on tv... Yeah, that's all he was.

Constantly telling this to himself as he walked the pedestrian lanes, reminding himself every step, just in case he'd one day slip up and everybody would be on him. One wrong move and suddenly, to the world, he could potentially become the very next big bad, Apollo.

Then he would be in bars and long forgotten to the world. If only that would happen minus the prisoner thing.

Minding his own business, a certain looked from a patrolling officer didn't appreciate his efforts. Sighing to himself, Fran hung his arms out and waved them harmlessly. A moment of staring and the officer kept to himself, realising there was nothing to worry about.

It was beginner to get old to him. In all of his 15 years of living, people just somehow never got around to forgiving his father or even treating his son right.

Did he even deserve this? His father was the one to commit all of these horrible things, it wasn't like he was even around to teach his son villainy. So why even bother sparring even the slightest of glances at him?

He reached the train station and held out his transport card out for all to see. While not flamboyantly showing off his card, it gave the people around him enough comfort as to why he was even here.

If only they could instead connect the dots with his uniform and the start of the school year.

Tapping his card on the scanner, he passed the barricade and waited amidst the bustling station. Thankfully the crowd there were all too concerned about their train than a dead super villain's son.

When the train eventually did arrive, a respectable amount of distance was put between him and the rest of the passenger's. Being cautious was fine, but not many if not any at all, weren't really aware how much it affects your object of disgust and hatred.

The way to the school was painfully long, just a long-winded reminder to Fran about his heritage and where he was on the social ladder.

Pathetically low.

Scrolling through the documents and emails the school sent him, Fran eventually found where his schedule was.

Orientation/Homeroom - Class 1A (Miss Fetcher)