At the start of the year, I finally put a name to it.
Negative energy.
I didn't come to that conclusion through research or outside knowledge—it just made sense. Whenever people around me felt worse, that presence inside me grew stronger. When things were calm, it barely moved.
And then I realized something else.
I didn't need to generate it myself. The energy could be accumulated from the people around me.
That changed everything.
I was still too young to leave the orphanage. I couldn't be near villains or dangerous incidents, even if I wanted to. Waiting for rare opportunities wasn't practical. I needed a way to gather it safely, steadily, and on my own terms.
The orphanage was full of people—emotional, reactive, easy to influence. Small amounts of energy were enough, as long as I collected it consistently.
And I didn't do it alone.
Two other boys started sticking close to me. They liked the feeling of being on the stronger side, liked having someone take the lead. I didn't need to explain much. Things just… happened naturally.
For three months, we stayed within clear limits.
I never went too far. No serious injuries, no attention-drawing actions. I chose targets carefully—kids with mutant traits or weak quirks, those who were already ignored or avoided. I didn't push extremes. I kept it limited.
It was safer, easier to manage, and better for my head. I wasn't trying to become a villain. Villains lost control, burned themselves out, and destroyed everything around them. I didn't want that. I wanted stability. I wanted freedom. I wanted to be strong without constantly looking over my shoulder.
The negative energy inside me increased steadily. Over time, it responded better to my control. My body adapted too—muscles firmer, movements steadier, endurance improving.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't dramatic. But it worked.
And that was enough for now.
This was preparation, not the end goal. I still had time. Years, even. Rushing would only create unnecessary risks.
For the first time since realizing what my quirk truly was, I felt confident in one thing: I was walking a line.
And as long as I stayed aware of it, I wouldn't cross over.