Chapter 1: The Starting Line

"Akh, I miss my mother cooking" Strolling along the side of the street, his hand clutched a plastic bag. Few cups of ready noodles, and a humble assortment of frozen ready meals, that what was Within its confines. Raising his gaze towards the darkening sky, he could see the fading glow of the sun, signaling the imminent arrival of nightfall upon the city. With a wistful expression, he continued his stroll, the plastic bag swaying in rhythm with his movements. It was Sunday, and tomorrow he would have to return to school. He worked diligently alongside his fellow students to enhance their esper abilities, perhaps with the hope of one day becoming the eighth Level 5 esper in Academy City. However... "There no use after all huh" He has already lost all hope long ago. His name was Ichiman, a Level 2 esper, a gemstone who had made his way to the Academy City two years prior. Finally reaching the abode he called home, he retrieved the keys from the bucket and turned the lock, gradually opening the door. Inside, the residence resembled any ordinary economical house—a bathroom and a spacious living room awaited. The kitchen seamlessly connected to the living room, allowing anyone seated there to observe the culinary activities. At the end of the living room, there was a nook. Placing the bag in the kitchen, he promptly flung himself onto the bed, his weary face sinking into the softness of the pillow. Another exhausting and uneventful day had come to pass. He adjusted his head slightly, allowing his left eye to catch a glimpse of the table before him. A white envelope rested there, silently beckoning his attention. Without shifting from the comfort of his bed, he reached out and retrieved the envelope, turning it around to examine the sender. "I don't know why he still believes in me, that old man," he mumbled to himself as he set the envelope down. The sender was none other than the man who had allowed him to come to the Academy City. It all began two years ago when Ichiman was nothing more than an ordinary middle school boy, blending into the crowd with his unremarkable appearance. Each morning, he dragged himself to school with a deep-rooted disdain that surpassed mere dislike. This monotony had consumed his existence for as long as he could remember—a ceaseless cycle of indifference. But fate, with its capricious whims, chose to intervene one fateful day. As Ichiman crossed the bustling street, lost in the sea of nameless faces, a malevolent truck hurtled towards him, determined to bring an end to his young life. Although the pedestrian light gleamed green, seemingly granting him safe passage, it offered no protection against the imminent collision, as his mother had often warned him. Everything was so fast that he felt nothing. The surrounding crowd swarmed the scene of the accident, some averting their gaze from the gruesome sight, while others summoned their composure to lend a helping hand. From head to toe. The surface of his skin, once smooth and untouched, was now a landscape of chaos and anguish. Deep gashes marred his flesh, oozing crimson trails that stained his torn clothing, evidence of the impact that had rent his body apart. Initially, no one expected him to survive, given the severe condition he was in. His injuries seemed insurmountable. And yet, in a miraculous twist of fate, Ichiman managed to cling to life by a thread, defying the truck's relentless onslaught. His perseverance bought him just enough time for the wailing sirens of an ambulance to pierce the air, whisking him away to the nearest hospital. Transfer him to the operating room, The doctors fought valiantly to save the fragile boy, but the extent of his injuries rendered their efforts futile. How he had managed to survive in such a condition remained an enigma to all. The weirdest thing yet was his heart, on the brink of giving up its valiant struggle, would suddenly revive just as the doctors were ready to admit defeat. And if that were not perplexing enough, the doctors stumbled upon a sign of something far more extraordinary - self-regeneration. Imperceptibly slow, it was a phenomenon that defied the boundaries of their understanding. After an arduous struggle lasting twenty-three long hours, Ichiman's condition finally stabilized, granting the weary doctors a fleeting respite, though his weird ability did most of the work. With a tenuous hold on life, he was granted a reprieve of three months within the sterile confines of the hospital. This duration served a dual purpose: to monitor the state of his fragile body and, more importantly, to allow him to heal further. However his body healed completely after just one week, and during this time, a parade of familiar faces graced his bedside - friends, teachers, and, of course, his beloved family. Yet, amidst the sea of familiarity, one visage stood out as a mysterious outlier - that of an elderly man who materialized on the eve of his departure from the hospital. He introduced himself as an envoy from the academy city. It was there that they suspected Ichiman being a gemstone, an esper who has gained their ability without an artificial method. "So it wasn't a miracle that saved my life?" "there no miracle in this world, little boy, just you and you" After he explained what needed to be explained, he offered a Scholarship to embark upon an educational journey within the hallowed walls of the academy city. After they make sure he is truly a gemstone. And of course, Ichiman immediately agrees. After all, living in the academy city was a dream for every kid his age. The news swept through the town like a tempest, igniting a whirlwind of media frenzy. All eyes upon him underwent a profound transformation, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing his hidden brilliance. People clamored for his attention, trying to get on his better side. His parents swelled with pride, and his friends were bragging about being close to him. Everyone held Great aspirations for him, and he was planning to grow into those aspirations, to become the seventh level 5 esper in the academy city as they say. Once he arrived at the academy city, meticulous tests were conducted to unravel what truly he was... Ichiman an esper level 2, regeneration. He was truly a gemstone, though he wasn't a level 3 esper or higher like most gemstones that come to the academy city. However, this was no cause for despair, for gemstones often exhibited remarkable power growth. With a touch of effort, he could ascend the ranks and someday he will become a level 5 esper. And so, his journey began as a humble student at Toarukōkō Middle School, brimming with dreams. Every day, he arrived at school earlier, seeking extra time to immerse himself in the study. He would Volunteer for any scientific gathering so he could learn more about things that would help him develop his understanding of his ability. He would take all types of tests, drugs, hypnosis, and everything that the scientists of the academy would recommend... he would try all of them. Days went by, followed by weeks, and then months. And nothing changed He is still a level 2 esper. Most people would find this normal. After all, it takes years of hard work to just go by one rank up, and that's if you are lucky. However, for Ichiman, being a gemstone, the situation was far from normal. According to expectations, he should have already reached Level 3, and perhaps even surpassed it to reach Level 4. Yet, inexplicably, nothing changed for him. As time seemed to accelerate, his first year passed by with no progress to show, only plagued by persistent back pain instead of any rise in rank. The second year flew by just as fruitlessly as the first. In those two years, everything spiraled for the worse. The people who once held great aspirations for him now wore expressions of profound disappointment. Teachers, scientists, friends, and even society at large seemed to have lost faith in his abilities. Amidst the darkness, there were only two people whose unwavering support still shone brightly —the light in their eyes undimmed, His parents. From the first day till the last one, they didn't once stop telling him how proud they were of him. And that was the reason why he gave up. He gives up his dream of becoming a level 5 esper. He has to guarantee a future where his parents live a happy and comfortable life. He couldn't afford to waste any more time chasing unattainable dreams and dragging his parents down to the abyss with him. Casting a final glance at the white envelope, he murmured under his breath, "You are one of the few who still believe in me. I understand my parents' reasoning, but why do you?" With that, he set the envelope aside and stood up, making his way to the kitchen to fill his empty stomach. Opening the fridge, he shifted his glance inside, "Damn it, I forget to bring the milk, I have to go back and buy some milk" Closing the fridge, he took his key and went out, heading toward the nearest convenience store. Walking along the dimly lit street under the cold night sky, Ichiman pulled his jacket tighter around him, seeking solace in the warmth it provided. The bustling city had quieted down, with only a few stray pedestrians venturing out into the night. Each step he took echoed softly against the pavement, his breath visible in the crisp air. As he strolled, the streetlights cast elongated shadows that danced at his feet, the intermittent flickering adding an ethereal quality to the scene. The distant hum of cars passing by provides a steady backdrop, punctuated occasionally by the distant sound of laughter or snippets of conversation drifting from nearby cafes. The convenience store came into view, its neon signs casting a vibrant glow against the night. Ichiman pushed open the door, the warm air of the store embracing him. The aisles were filled with an assortment of products, each promising a semblance of comfort and fulfillment. He made his way to the refrigerated section, scanning the shelves for the milk he needed. With the milk in hand, he approached the cashier, exchanging a brief nod and a small smile. As he stepped back out into the night. Lost in his musings, he suddenly became aware of distant voices growing louder. Turning his gaze in the direction of the commotion, he saw a young boy darting through the streets, his hair tousled and wild. "I am sorry! I really didn't mean it, just leave me alone" . Behind him, a determined girl pursued, her short brown hair framing her determined face. "get back here you jerk" Shaking his head, he pushed the curiosity aside and continued on his way home. "That was weird... wasn't that guy from my class? Touma was his name if I remember, and the girl also seemed familiar.. where did i see her face?" he muttered softly to himself. Walking silently through the night, Ichiman's footsteps echoed in the deserted streets. His stomach rumbled impatiently, a reminder of his hunger. The journey back home should have taken no more than five minutes, but something seemed amiss. Five minutes passed, and still, his familiar residence remained out of sight. Perplexed, Ichiman glanced around, only to find himself back at the convenience store—the very place he had just left. "What the...?" he muttered, a mix of confusion and frustration clouding his mind. It was inconceivable for him to get lost on a route he had taken countless times before. Trying again, and after another 5 minutes, he found himself back again at the convenience store. Resigned to the situation, Ichiman decided to test his theory. Instead of retracing his steps, he chose a different path, hoping to break free from the disorienting cycle. Every turn and every side street only seemed to bring him back to the convenience store, amplifying his frustration. "Holy shit, did I get cursed?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief. The situation had taken an eerie turn, shattering the semblance of normalcy he had clung to. Growing increasingly desperate, Ichiman abandoned the idea of returning home. Perhaps a random path would break the perplexing cycle. And for his luck, he chose the path that he shouldn't choose that night. Through a dark hallway on the opposite side of his home, he went. In the academic city, surveillance cameras loomed around every corner, especially in its bustling center. That is why, Ichiman felt a sense of security as he walked, assured that he had nothing to fear. However, this assurance was short-lived. Just as the clock struck 21:00, "!!!" A sudden, eerie tremor rippled through the building, shaking the very ground beneath Ichiman's feet. "Earthquake?" he questioned, his heart racing in response to the unsettling vibrations. But his assumption quickly crumbled as the sound of gunfire pierced the air at the far end of the dimly lit hallway. It was too close for comfort, a mere three meters away. "I need to get out of here," Ichiman muttered urgently, his voice barely audible over the chaos unfolding around him. In a strange twist of events, the cacophony abruptly ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence. The gunshots ceased, and the ground settled into an unnerving stillness. However, the respite was short-lived. Gradually, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder and closer, striking fear into Ichiman's heart. He feared that if he turned his back around he would impatiently get shot from behind. Beads of sweat formed on his cheeks as his entire body trembled, a reaction not born of desire but of sheer dread. This was a situation he had no desire to be entangled in. And then, he saw him—the embodiment of his worst nightmares. "Accelerator?" Ichiman's voice trembled as he spoke. "hmm?" The 1st-ranked and the strongest currently residing in Academy City. He heard so many stories about him, and most of them weren't that of a friendly guy. "Are you one of those jerks who want to challenge me?" Accelerator's voice dripped with a cold indifference, as he passed by without casting a single glance at him. "N-No, sir," Ichiman gasped, struggling to catch his breath, let alone form a coherent sentence. He knew his life teetered on the edge of a precipice. "I-I just ended up here by chance." "I see... good. I'm not in the mood to break any more bones," Accelerator curtly stated before nonchalantly walking away, not uttering another word. Ichiman stood paralyzed, his gaze fixed ahead even after the sounds of Accelerator's footsteps faded away. Time stretched on for what felt like an eternal five minutes before he mustered the courage to take a few tentative steps forward. He couldn't bring himself to follow the same path as Accelerator. As he turned the corner in the hallway, Ichiman had envisioned several possible scenarios, but what awaited him was far worse than anything he had imagined. "It's the same girl... Misaka Mikoto?" he uttered in disbelief, his voice barely a whisper. There she lay, lifeless on the ground, surrounded by a macabre pool of blood. Ichiman realized why she had seemed familiar—the girl before him was none other than Misaka Mikoto, the renowned third-ranked Level 5 esper known as the Railgun. "He killed another Level 5 esper just like that?" Ichiman's mind swirled with confusion. The death of a seventh-ranked Level 5 esper within Academy City would have far-reaching consequences Even for someone like him, he should've known doing something like that would never lead to anything good. "Whom should i call? Judgment? Anti-Skill? Maybe i should inform the "old man" first; surely he would know how to handle this situa—" "An unwanted witness, said Misaka as she held her guard up" Just before Ichiman could solidify a plan, a voice shattered his train of thought. turning around "What the—" His eyes widened in shock, so many of them, so many misaka mikoto surrounded him from all sides. "Who are you, people!" That was the only thing his mind thought of asking. The situation he was in right now was out of the imagination. "Roger, get rid of the witness and retrieve the corpse, says Misakas as they receive orders and point their guns at the guy in front of them" "Huh, W-Wait! I didn't do any—UGH" Ichiman's words were abruptly cut off as a familiar warmth spread through his stomach. "What—agh!" he gasped, feeling a searing pain surge through his left foot. "agh..." And again this time in his right arm. "..." Ichiman couldn't discern when he had fallen to the ground, but one thing was clear: even as his vision dimmed, the relentless sound of gunfire echoed in his ears, unabated. Part 2: The room reverberated with the symphony of electronic equipment and the soft whir of machinery, creating a backdrop of industrious activity. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and hushed discussions that mingled with the charged atmosphere. "Hmm?" "Is there something wrong?" Turning toward his associate, confusion was all over his face, "there is something weird with the experiment, serial number 10000" "Huh? Let me see" Pointing at the screen before them, a mosaic of graphs and charts unfolded, depicting the clone's vital signs—steady heart rates, controlled respiration, and consistent blood pressure. Intricate patterns of brain activity pulsed in waves, indicating neural processes. A video feed displayed a motionless clone suspended within a large container filled with an enigmatic liquid, her body adorned with sensory threads. "What's wrong? Everything seems normal. We could release her now," one scientist suggested. "look closely, at the waves of brain activity in the hippocampus." Immediately, his attention shifted to the anomalous patterns unfolding on the screen. "How is that possible?" "Yes, she appears to be dreaming." "But her mind should be that of a newborn. She can't dream..." "What do we do now, sir?" His gaze shifted from the screen to his colleague, a newfound resolution etched across his face. After a moment of reflection, he made a decisive choice, "release her." he commanded "Roger!" (*) Within the vast expanse of the laboratory, an imposing test tube stood as a towering sentinel, its transparent walls enclosing a surreal tableau. Suspended within the tube, her body's form was held captive in a translucent embrace. Her body encased in a viscous liquid of otherworldly hues appeared suspended in time and space. As she floated in the ethereal medium, her features took on an otherworldly glow. The light refracted through the liquid, casting an iridescent shimmer upon her skin. Her limbs hung weightlessly as if disconnected from the constraints of gravity. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest marked the ebb and flow of life, a testament to the meticulous preservation of his existence. Glistening tendrils, resembling delicate threads, traversed his body, connecting him to intricate monitoring systems that hummed with purpose. These sensory conduits monitored every facet of his being, relaying vital data to the vigilant scientists who meticulously observed his every fluctuation. "Where am I?" the figure thought, her mind engulfed in a shroud of uncertainty. The absence of sound around her left her questioning whether she had lost her hearing or if the place itself was steeped in an eerie silence. It was a disconcerting sensation, a void where the symphony of life should have thrived. But the tranquility was short-lived. "Release her." The words, like a distant echo, pierced the stillness, reverberating through the vast laboratory. Immediately, a flurry of activity ensued, as if a dormant world had awakened to fulfill its purpose. The rhythmic hiss of air escaping, accompanied by the mechanical whirring of machinery, signaled the commencement of her liberation. The liquid that had cradled her ethereal form began to recede, its gentle retreat revealing the solid ground beneath. She felt a peculiar mixture of anticipation and apprehension as her weightless descent carried her closer to the realm of the tangible. The tendrils, like ethereal threads, disengaged from her body, relinquishing their hold on her. As her feet finally touched the laboratory floor, her unsteady footing betrayed her eagerness, and she impatiently lost her balance, descending to the cold ground with an ungraceful thud. It was as if the knowledge of how to stand had momentarily escaped her, leaving her vulnerable to the unyielding force of gravity. She took a hesitant glance around, her eyes roving across the expansive laboratory, her mind a tempest of thoughts and inquiries. "Interesting. The experiment has not exhibited the characteristics of a newborn yet," a voice remarked, breaking through the haze of her contemplation. Curiosity sparked within her, drawing her attention to the source of the new voice. She turned her head, her gaze fixing upon the figure that had spoken. The silhouette of a scientist, draped in a lab coat, stood before her. Inquisitive eyes met hers, gleaming with a mixture of intrigue and anticipation. "W-Who are you... say Misaka as she holds a confused face—!!"