This is a world of heroes, villains, monsters, and superpowers.
Heroes are supposed to be righteous. They fight the bad guy, save the day, get the girl. Their stories always end with a happy ending.
Or at least, that's what they want you to believe.
If you ask me, it's all bullshit.
Want to know how I know?
I'm the son of the world's strongest hero.
Ultraman.
And I can tell you right now, my dad doesn't have a "girl." There's no happy ending waiting for him. He's out there every single day, fighting just to make sure me and my twin brother are safe, fed, and alive.
There are four ways to get powers.
You're either born with them, some kind of genetic mutation.
They get passed down to you from your parents.
You're turned into something else through experimentation.
Or… the rarest way.
You force them into existence through sheer willpower.
Sounds cool, right?
That's what my dad has.
Which means me and my brother?
We're not getting powers like his.
And honestly… that might be for the best.
…Yeah, I know. I ramble a lot.
If anyone could hear my inner thoughts, they'd probably think I'm insane.
They wouldn't be completely wrong.
Because this isn't my first life.
It's my second.
I've been reincarnated.
I don't remember much. Just fragments. A name.
Ethan.
Same as now.
Everything else is foggy. Like trying to remember a dream after waking up.
I should probably stop thinking about it.
No point digging into something I can't fully remember.
I should get home.
Dad's probably already there.
The young boy, no older than nine, took off running.
His shoes slapped against the pavement in a steady rhythm as he moved through his neighborhood. The air was cool, the sky dimming into a deep blue as night settled in.
It was a decent area. Not rich, not poor. Somewhere in between. Quiet streets, trimmed lawns, houses that had seen better days but were still standing strong.
Their house sat near the end of the block.
Old, but sturdy.
It had been passed down from their grandparents after they died, something their father rarely talked about.
Ethan didn't slow down as he reached the fence.
He jumped.
His hands caught the top cleanly, and he swung himself over with practiced ease, landing lightly in the backyard. The grass crunched softly under his shoes.
He walked up to the back door and pushed it open.
Inside, the house was calm.
Too calm.
On the couch, his twin brother lay sprawled out, a half-open bag of chips resting on his chest as he lazily chewed.
The TV played quietly in the background, some news channel running footage of a recent hero fight.
Ethan kicked the door shut behind him.
"Yo. Dad home yet?"
Kyle didn't even look at him at first. He reached into the chip bag, grabbed a handful, then finally turned his head.
"Yeah. He was," he said casually. "Got called out again."
Ethan sighed, already expecting that answer.
Kyle continued, his tone just as relaxed.
"He told me to tell you we need to sleep early tonight. We're finally going to a real school tomorrow."
Ethan walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. The tap ran for a second longer than necessary before he shut it off.
He took a sip, then leaned back against the counter.
"Man… why couldn't he just keep us in the homeschool program?" he muttered. "Now we actually have to wake up early."
He dragged out the last word, making his annoyance obvious.
Kyle smirked, shifting on the couch and propping his head up on the armrest.
"Oh, come on," he said. "It'll be good for your antisocial ass. Maybe you'll finally make some friends."
Ethan shot him a look as he walked back into the living room.
"I have friends."
"Yeah? Where?" Kyle asked instantly.
Ethan opened his mouth, then paused.
"…That's not the point."
Kyle let out a short laugh.
Before Ethan could fire back, the air in the room shifted.
A subtle pressure change.
Then
He was there.
Their father stood in the middle of the living room as if he had always been there.
Still in costume.
Blue and red, the fabric slightly torn in places, a large "U" stretched across his chest. It stood for ULTRA.
Dark stains covered parts of the suit. Not all of it was blood, but enough of it was.
The faint smell of something metallic lingered in the air.
"Hey," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Watch your language, Kyle. Don't make me wash your mouth with soap again."
Kyle rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
Ultraman didn't stop moving. He walked past both of them, already heading toward the stairs.
"I'm going to shower," he added. "Be ready for tomorrow."
Then he was gone.
Ethan looked at Kyle.
Kyle looked at Ethan.
For a second, there was silence.
Then both of them burst out laughing.
Both boys were nine years old.
They looked almost identical at a glance. Same height. Same build. Same short black hair.
But the differences were clear if you paid attention.
Ethan had black eyes, just like their father. Sharp, observant.
Kyle had green eyes, like their mother. Brighter, more expressive.
The Vale Household
8:08 PM
The house had settled into a quiet rhythm.
Both boys had finished their baths and were now in their shared bedroom. The faint hum of the city outside filtered through the window, mixed with the occasional distant siren.
Ethan lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Kyle was already half-asleep, wrapped in his blanket.
The door opened.
Their father stepped in.
Now out of costume, he looked more like a normal man. Tall, muscular, but relaxed. Glasses rested on his face, and his curly black hair was still slightly damp from the shower.
He smiled at his sons.
"Alright," he said, his voice softer now. "Listen carefully."
Both boys looked at him.
"I won't be here tomorrow when you wake up. I've already set an alarm clock for you. Wake up early, get ready, and go to school."
He paused, making sure they were paying attention.
"And don't oversleep. Don't stay up too late either."
He walked over, placing a hand on each of their heads before leaning down and kissing them on the forehead.
"Goodnight."
Then he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Silence.
Kyle was out within minutes, his breathing steady.
Ethan wasn't.
He stared at the ceiling, wide awake.
Bored.
Restless.
He turned his head slightly, glancing over at his brother.
Still asleep.
Good.
Now he just had to wait.
A few seconds passed.
Then
A distant sonic boom echoed through the night sky.
Ethan's eyes shifted.
That was his signal.
He sat up slowly, careful not to make noise, and slid out of bed. His feet touched the floor softly.
He walked to the window and opened it.
Cool night air rushed in.
He climbed out onto the roof, sitting down as he looked up at the sky.
Stars scattered across the darkness.
This always calmed him down.
Out here, it was quiet.
No noise. No expectations.
Just space.
His dad probably wouldn't approve of him sitting out here alone.
But as long as his dad didn't know, it didn't matter.
After a minute, Ethan slid forward, letting himself hang off the edge of the roof before dropping down.
He landed cleanly.
"Perfect," he muttered to himself.
Then he started running.
The park wasn't far.
He had been there countless times before.
It was his place.
His escape.
A quiet patch of land with old swings, a worn-out slide, and benches that creaked if you sat on them wrong.
But tonight…
Something was different.
Someone was there.
A girl sat on one of the swings.
Not just any swing.
His swing.
Ethan slowed down.
Her white hair stood out immediately under the dim streetlight. It almost seemed to glow. Her eyes, a sharp yellow, reflected the faint light as she looked ahead, gently swaying back and forth.
She looked about his age.
Maybe a little older.
Ethan hesitated.
Should he say something?
Tell her to move?
Ask who she was?
Before he could decide
Another sonic boom echoed through the sky
Closer this time,His head snapped up.
That was his dad
Instinct kicked in.
He turned and started running back home.
He climbed back onto the roof quickly, pulling himself up and slipping through the window.
He landed quietly inside, shut it, and rushed back to his bed.
He pulled the covers over himself just as his heartbeat started to slow.
He closed his eyes.
Pretending Like he had been there the whole time.
A few seconds passed Then his body relaxed.
And eventually…
He fell asleep.
He woke to the sharp blare of the alarm.
It cut through the quiet room, loud and sudden.
Kyle groaned beside him and blindly swung an arm toward the bedside table. His hand fumbled for a second before finally slamming down on the clock, silencing it.
The noise stopped instantly.
Kyle didn't move after that. He just rolled over and sank straight back into sleep, breathing slow and steady like nothing had happened.
Ethan, on the other hand, was already up.
He sat upright in bed, eyes open, alert. No hesitation. No dragging himself out of sleep.
Today was different.
First day of real school.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching slightly as he shook off the last bit of drowsiness.
Kyle mumbled something incoherent into his pillow, completely gone again.
Ethan glanced at him.
"Yeah… good luck with that," he muttered under his breath.
He didn't bother trying to wake him yet.
Instead, he made his way out of the room and headed downstairs. The house was quiet, almost empty-feeling without their father around.
The kitchen was clean. Too clean.
No breakfast. No movement. Just stillness.
Ethan walked over to the counter and immediately spotted a note left out in the open, written in bold, slightly rushed handwriting.
"Hey you rascals,
School starts at 8 AM. Be ready by then.
MAKE SURE YOU DON'T MISS IT."
Ethan stared at it for a second, then let out a small breath through his nose.
"Yeah… no pressure," he said quietly.
He picked up the note, glanced at it one more time, then set it back down exactly where it had been.
Then he turned and headed back upstairs. He pushed the door open and found Kyle exactly how he left him, wrapped up in his blanket, dead asleep like the alarm never even went off. Ethan walked over and nudged him harder this time.
"Hey. Hey, Kyle, get up or we're gonna be late."
Kyle groaned, barely opening his eyes. "Five more minutes…"
Ethan stared at him for a second, unimpressed. Then he raised his hand and brought it down sharply.
A loud slap echoed through the room.
Kyle shot upright instantly, fully awake now, eyes wide. "What the hell, dude?!"
Ethan had already stepped back, a grin on his face. "Get up."
Kyle blinked once, then twice, processing what just happened. Then he swung his legs off the bed and lunged forward. "Nah, you're dead."
Ethan turned and ran out the room, laughing as Kyle chased after him, still waking up but fueled entirely by revenge.
They got ready quickly after that. Brushed teeth, threw on their uniforms, grabbed their bags. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. By the time they stepped outside, the morning had fully settled in.
7:20 AM.
The streets were alive. Cars passed by at a steady pace, people moved along sidewalks with purpose, and the air carried that early morning chill before the heat kicked in. Ethan and Kyle walked side by side, dressed for school, bags slung over their shoulders.
They were early.
Surprisingly early.
Kyle stretched as he walked, letting out a small yawn before glancing at Ethan. "Hey, wanna go to that new arcade? School doesn't start for like another forty minutes."
Ethan thought about it for a second, then nodded. "Yeah, we've got time."
Kyle smirked. "Thought so."
They picked up their pace, turning down the street toward the small shopping strip nearby. The arcade stood out immediately, bright lights flashing through the windows, the sound of games spilling out onto the street. The second they stepped inside, noise hit them all at once. Machines beeping, music blasting, people talking over each other. It was loud, chaotic, and alive.
Kyle was already moving. "Race you."
He took off without waiting.
Ethan followed, weaving through rows of machines as they moved deeper inside. They jumped from game to game without thinking. Racing games first, then shooters, then some random fighting game Kyle insisted he was "built different" at and lost anyway. They argued, laughed, shoved each other, completely forgetting about time.
Thirty minutes disappeared like nothing.
Ethan checked the time and his expression shifted. "We should go. We're actually gonna be late."
Kyle groaned but nodded. "Yeah, yeah, fine."
They turned toward the exit, starting to make their way through the arcade.
Then it happened.
The front doors slammed open with force, metal crashing against the walls as they were thrown wide. The sound cut through everything. The machines, the voices, the music. All of it stopped.
Silence filled the arcade instantly.
People froze.
A group stepped inside.
Five of them.
Each wore an oversized green hat, wide enough to cast deep shadows over their faces. Their outfits were different in design but matched in color, all shades of green layered over dark clothing. Some had masks, others didn't. But all of them carried the same presence.
The Green Hatters.
Ethan felt his body tense without thinking. Something in the air shifted. This wasn't normal. This wasn't something you ignored.
This was real.
One of them stepped forward, clearly the leader. He adjusted the brim of his hat slightly, scanning the room like he was picking out items on a shelf.
Then he spoke, his voice calm and steady.
"Everyone down," he said.
No one moved.
A small smile crept onto his face.
"If you want to live."