In a town called Soweto, Chiawelo Extension 3, lived a boy who wanted what this world could never give him.
Supernatural power.
But his reality was cruelly simple—no magic, no miracles, just an ordinary life in a world that mocked dreams.
Whenever he spoke about anime, games, or fantasy, people laughed at him.
"He's a crazy otaku.""He thinks he's in Japan."
Their words cut deep. So deep that he learned to stay quiet, swallowing his anger until it burned inside his chest. There were moments when he felt like destroying the world—every voice, every living thing that looked down on him.
Yet he never crossed that line.
Because there were still a few people who treated him like a human being instead of trash. Friends who reminded him that changing himself would mean losing the one thing he still owned—his heart.
That boy was Finne Mathevula.
A fifteen-year-old South African teenager.
Every day after school, he rushed home—not for rest, not for food—but for anime. It was his escape, his sanctuary. Sometimes he skipped lunch. Sometimes dinner was forgotten completely. To him, anime came first. It was the only place where heroes existed—where power answered those who reached for it.
That night, his uncle sent him out to buy bread from the tuckshop.
Finne stepped outside, earphones plugged in, anime music blasting through his phone. He sang softly as he walked, the empty street glowing under dim lights.
When he reached the four-way intersection, he closed his eyes.
Cars rarely passed through there at night. He slowed his steps… then stopped.
And he danced.
Just for a moment—free from judgment, free from the world.
He didn't hear the engine.
Not far away, a BMW M3 swerved violently down the road. The driver was drunk, barely aware of his surroundings, drifting recklessly as control slipped from his hands.
The car spun.
Tires screamed.
Metal groaned.
By the time the driver noticed the boy in the road, it was already too late.
A blinding light rushed toward Finne.
He thought it was someone holding a large torch.
So he ignored it.
The impact came like a storm.
The air itself struck him—faster than any human could survive. His body was thrown into the sky, ribs shattering, bones breaking. Blood filled his mouth as he hit the ground, coughing violently.
Pain screamed through every nerve.
Lying there, Finne laughed weakly.
"So… I'm finally going to die."
He had waited for this day longer than he wanted to admit. He was tired—of the world, of the people, of being powerless.
Blood spilled from his lips.
"I'm done for… I've lost too much blood."
His vision blurred, but a smile formed on his face.
"It's about time I reunited with my friend… Junior. I can't wait to see you."
His breathing slowed.
"It hurts… but I guess…"
His eyes closed.
"THIS IS GOOOOODBYEEEE—"
And death took him away.