To become a hero in this world, people say you need powers. But I learned a different truth: you don't need to be stronger than everyone else, you just need to do what most people don't have the time, patience, or courage to do.
I couldn't lift a building with a flick of my hand. I couldn't create anything from nothing. But I could be there. Carry supplies, deliver aid on time, guide people out of danger, handle the small, unnoticed tasks that make the difference between life and death.
I went everywhere help was needed, live-streaming my actions not for fame, but so people could see that I would show up, no matter what. Every time I acted, I repeated my dream:
"I want to teleport to anyone in need. I want to provide exactly what they require. I want to take away their problems before anyone else can."
I became the hero who fills the gaps, the one who takes risks that others avoid, the one who quietly solves the problems no one else has the time or patience for. Not flashy. Not popular. Just necessary.
I'll admit it, I felt a little guilty. Maybe I wasn't doing all of this purely for helping people. My mind had one eye on the system, on the possibilities, on the teleportation and inventory abilities that would let me do even more. But come on… can you really blame me? If I could move anything anywhere in an instant, save everyone I could, that wasn't just heroic—it was smart.
And slowly, the system responded. People's belief in me, their trust, their hope—it was creating a bridge to possibility. I didn't need to be stronger than anyone. I just needed to do what needed doing, even when no one else would.
Because in a world obsessed with power, sometimes the real hero is the one willing to do the work no one else can be bothered to do… and maybe, just maybe, get a little OP in the process.