Chapter 2, “ Scared to Death, Dreams do come True!”

Troy's awakening in the sterile confines of the hospital room was accompanied by a surge of panic as he realized he was under police custody. However, these were not ordinary officers; they belonged to the elite cadre known as the Powered Human Defense Corps (PHDC). They are super powered officers that handle villains and evil powered individuals primarily on a domestic level or during the wrap up of Heroes taking down stronger villains and overseeing detainment and arrests.

Clad in advanced tactical gear that integrated seamlessly with their enhanced abilities, the PHDC officers exuded an aura of authority and power.

As Troy's mind raced with questions and fear, he voiced his concerns aloud, demanding answers about his detainment by the PHDC. His voice quivered with a mix of confusion and apprehension, his eyes darting around the room in search of an explanation.

One of the officers, with a stoic demeanor honed through years of dealing with volatile situations, stepped forward, leveling an anti-matter gun directly at Troy's face. The weapon, a testament to the technological prowess of the PHDC, hummed with latent energy, a potent reminder of the consequences of defiance.

"STOP STRUGGLING OR I WILL SHOOT YOU!" bellowed the officer, his voice a thunderous command that brooked no dissent. "You are detained and arrested upon your medical release under the Powered Humans Enforcement Act, Article B23-51C. All super-powered individuals must and are required to have the Government test, scan, and document their individual powers. Failure to do so will result in arrest followed by forced documentation."

Troy's eyes widened in shock and disbelief at the officer's words. The realization of the situation began to sink in—a world governed by strict regulations that scrutinized and controlled those with extraordinary abilities. Yet, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one fact stood out starkly—he had no powers. At 16 years old, the promise of abilities had never materialized for him.

"But... but I don't have powers," Troy stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. "I'm 16 years old, my powers never came!"

Troy's attempt to explain himself was swiftly interrupted by the unyielding officer, who continued to recite the legal statutes.

"Also under the Powered Humans Enforcement Act, Article 13-FD 221739," the officer's voice rang out, each word carrying the weight of legal precedent and consequence. "The use of powers to conduct criminal activities is prohibited by law. Your charge is First Degree Murder X3."

The words hung in the air like a heavy shroud, suffocating Troy with their implications. First-degree murder—three times over. The gravity of the accusation sent a shockwave through his already tumultuous thoughts, his mind reeling at the magnitude of the charges laid against him.

"MURDER! I NEVER MURDERED ANYONE!" Troy's protest echoed through the sterile confines of the hospital room, his voice a mixture of disbelief and horror. His eyes, widened to their limits, sought refuge in the denial of his own innocence.

However, as Troy's gaze shifted downward to his shackled arms and blood-soaked hands, the stark reality of his situation came crashing down upon him. The crimson stains, like accusing marks of guilt, marred his skin, evidence of a violent act he could not recall committing.

Panic surged through Troy's veins as fragmented memories began to piece themselves together in his mind—a haze of blurred images and fleeting sensations. The metallic tang of blood, the frenzied desperation of a struggle, and the haunting echo of screams reverberated in his memory, each fragment a damning testament to a nightmarish reality he could not comprehend.

The shackles that bound his wrists, once a symbol of his detainment, now felt like chains of guilt and despair. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the weight of accusation and confusion. How could he be charged with a crime so heinous when his own memories betrayed him?

The silence that followed Troy's outcry was deafening, punctuated only by the steady hum of medical equipment and the distant shuffle of footsteps outside the room. In that moment of solitary introspection, Troy grappled with a whirlwind of emotions—fear, anger, disbelief, and a gnawing sense of helplessness.

As the weight of the accusations settled heavily upon Troy's shoulders, he became aware of a looming presence, a figure of formidable stature and commanding aura.

The man who entered the room defied all notions of normalcy, his towering frame dwarfing the already spacious hospital environment. His gold-encrusted designer suit shimmered under the fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the sterile white surroundings. Ducking under the seven-foot door frame with effortless grace, he entered with an air of pride that demanded attention.

Troy's gaze traveled upward, taking in the imposing figure before him. This was, without a doubt, the largest human Troy had ever laid eyes on. Standing at least eight feet tall, with shoulders that seemed wider than the door frame itself, the man exuded an aura of power and dominance.

His face was a study in contrasts—a rugged, feral visage adorned with a mane of golden-colored hair and a thick beard reminiscent of a lion's mane. Scars criss crossed his features, testament to a life marked by conflict and adversity. Most striking of all was the massive scar that ran down the left side of his face, bisected by an eye patch that obscured his left eye.

Each step he took resonated with a palpable presence, the weight of his gaze bearing down on Troy like a physical force. The silence that accompanied his entrance was evident with unspoken authority, a silent command that brooked no dissent.

In that moment, Troy felt as if he lay in the presence of a force of nature—a man whose very presence seemed to bend reality to his will. The intensity of his gaze seemed to pierce through Troy's soul, laying bare the vulnerability and uncertainty that lurked beneath the surface.

As the towering figure surveyed the room with a calculating gaze, Troy couldn't help but wonder about the role this enigmatic individual would play in the unfolding drama of his life.

Without so much as a glance at the guards, the towering man in the gold-encrusted suit acted with a casual yet deliberate air. With a swift motion, he retrieved a folded document from within his suit jacket and hurled it in the direction of one of the guards. caught off balance by the sudden projectile, one guard stumbled awkwardly as he attempted to catch the document.

Meanwhile, the other, perhaps emboldened by the audacity of this stranger's actions, raised his voice in protest. "What are you doing? He's under our custody!" The words rang out with a mixture of disbelief and defiance, a futile attempt to assert authority in the face of overwhelming presence.

Unfazed by the guard's admonishment, the towering man raised his massive right arm, the muscles bulging beneath the fabric of his suit. With deliberate intent, he clenched his hand, his fingers extending outward like the talons of a predatory beast. In a blink of an eye, claws erupted from his fingertips, gleaming in the harsh hospital light with a deadly sheen.

With a surreal swiftness, the man took a massive swing, his arm moving with the precision of a seasoned warrior. In a single fluid motion, the claws sliced through the metallic cuffs that bound Troy's wrists, once symbols of restraint and confinement, offered no resistance against the onslaught of these lethal weapons.

With a resounding crack, the cuffs were shredded as if they were made from mere paper, the metal yielding effortlessly to the supernatural strength and sharpness of the claws. The guards looked on in shock and disbelief, their expressions a mixture of awe and trepidation at the display of raw power before them.

Troy, freed from his metallic restraints, rubbed his wrists gingerly. The stranger's intervention had shattered the fragile balance of authority within the room, leaving an air of uncertainty and apprehension in its wake.

As the guards scrambled to regain their composure, the towering man regarded them with an unreadable expression, his gaze holding a silent warning that brooked no further interference.

Troy found himself slipping into unconsciousness, the weight of his injuries and the surreal events of the night finally overtaking him. The world faded into darkness as he was effortlessly lifted and carried away by the towering figure who had emerged as both a mystery and a savior.

Time passed in a blur, fleeting moments as Troy's consciousness teetered on the brink of awareness. Then, like a distant echo gradually growing louder, he began to regain consciousness, accompanied by a sense of disorientation and confusion.

Blinking against the dim light filtering through the room, Troy found himself in unfamiliar surroundings—a dorm room of sorts, devoid of the clinical sterility of a hospital but lacking the comforts of home. He gingerly sat up, expecting to be greeted by the familiar ache of his injuries, only to find that he was no longer in pain. A sense of wonder and disbelief washed over him as he inspected his body, finding no trace of the wounds and bruises that he had before.

Standing up, clad only in his underwear, Troy surveyed the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. It was then that a sudden knock at the door startled him, the sound echoing through the quiet space with unexpected clarity.

A booming voice reverberated through the door, its tone commanding yet not devoid of warmth. "Hello, young man. I can smell that you're awake. There is a fresh pair of clothes on the dresser next to you. Put them on and meet me out in the lobby."

The abruptness of the command caught Troy off guard, but there was unmistakable authority in the voice that brooked no argument. Troy made his way to the dresser and retrieved the clothes laid out for him—a simple yet comfortable ensemble that hinted at a degree of thoughtfulness and consideration.

As he dressed and prepared to venture out into this new and enigmatic world that awaited him beyond the dorm room, Troy's mind raced with questions and uncertainties. Who was this towering figure who had saved him? What were his intentions?

As Troy opened the door to the dorm room and stepped out into the corridor, he was greeted by a sight that defied all expectations and left him breathless with wonder. Before him stretched the hallowed halls of the famed Hero Development Academy—a place he had only ever dreamed of setting foot in, now a reality that unfolded before his eyes in vibrant detail.

The bustling energy of the academy was palpable, a symphony of noise and activity that filled the air with an electrifying buzz. Hundreds of students hurried to their classes, their footsteps echoing against the polished floors in rhythmic gallops. Laughter and chatter mingled with other sounds creating a tapestry of sound that painted the scene with life and vitality.

Groups of students, each belonging to their own cliques and circles, exchanged banter and jokes as they traversed the corridors. Some exhibited their powers in small demonstrations, showcasing their unique abilities with a sense of pride and camaraderie. It was a world unto itself, a microcosm of diversity and talent that spoke volumes about the potential and promise of the academy's students.

For Troy, standing amidst this vibrant tapestry of activity, it was a shock to his senses unlike anything he had ever experienced. The dream of being a part of this prestigious institution had always been a distant fantasy, a beacon of hope that had dimmed with the realization that his powers had never manifested. The crushing disappointment of being an outcast in a world where powers defined one's worth had weighed heavily on his shoulders.

But now, as he took in the sights and sounds of the academy, a sense of awe and disbelief washed over him. The grandeur of the architecture, the passion and determination in the students' eyes, and the palpable aura of possibility that permeated the air—it was all a testament to the resilience of dreams and the power of determination.

Troy, his eyes wide with wonder, he couldn't help but feel a surge of hope and determination rising within him. The academy, once a symbol of unattainable aspirations filled him with momentary happiness.

As Troy made his way through the bustling corridors of the Hero Development Academy, his eyes wide with wonder, a familiar voice echoed through the air, drawing his attention. The Lion-like man, who had intervened on his behalf earlier, stood tall and commanding amidst the sea of students. Without the need for booming theatrics, his voice carried authority and reassurance.

"Over here!" the man called out, his tone resonating with a sense of purpose.

As Troy approached, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension swirling within him, the man spoke again, his voice now tinged with a warmth that belied his intimidating appearance.

"My name is Headmaster Brahm," the man introduced himself with a nod of his head. "And I run the Hero Development Academy. I would like to formally invite you to join us."

The weight of those words hit Troy like a tidal wave, breaking through the barriers of disbelief and uncertainty. Tears welled up in his eyes, tears that flowed freely down Troy's face, these were not just tears of joy, but also tears of gratitude and determination. With each droplet that fell,a torrent of emotion cascaded down his cheeks as he struggled to process the magnitude of what was being offered to him. Soon a resolve hardened within him, a determination to seize this chance and make the most of it.

To be invited to join the prestigious academy, to be recognized and welcomed into a world that had once seemed so far out of reach—it was a dream come true, a beacon of hope in the midst of his darkest hour.

The significance of Headmaster Brahm's invitation was not lost on Troy; it was a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite his destiny and prove his worth in a world that valued powers above all else.

End of chapter 2.