Supernatural Powers Aren't Perfect.

The law of conservation of mass must be accepted. Even nearly godlike Supernatural Powers cannot break it.

Gain immense power, and you pay a price. Physical pain is the most common cost.

Take someone who ignites flames at will. But igniting inside a human body—without any fuel? That’s dangerous.

Overusing Supernatural Powers inflicts terrible harm on the user.

That’s why the Super Soldier and Cyborg programs exist. They wanted Supernatural Powers too, but the cost was too high.

Last night’s incident with Eira proves it.

I heard about a guy who hardened paper like steel. He killed many in a mall. Eira, the Hero, was dispatched alone. Others didn’t go... but she stopped that killer.

His death was gruesome—broken bones, brain death, shattered pieces. Not the gentle Eira we know.

---

"Last night... did I do something terrible?"

Eira sat at the dining table, struggling to speak.

Chopsticks in hand, her expression was dazed, weak.

Last night’s shock was too much. Her once-gleaming silvery-white hair had faded.

"No, no—it’s fine. Just some twitching. The room’s clean and perfect now..."

"Clean and perfect."

Eira glanced that way, but Zeming blocked her view with his body.

The walls there were pitted and uneven, patched haphazardly with wet cement.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

At her guilt-ridden question, Zeming instinctively hid his half-healed palm wound.

It showed no sign of healing. His recovery should’ve been faster.

"No. I sent Vivian to my mom’s place."

"That’s good."

Clatter—

The fork hit the floor. Eira only noticed seconds later.

She bent slowly to pick it up. No one would feel safe watching that.

A large hand scooped up the fork first. He set it aside, then used his own to spear food.

"Hey, your hands have no strength."

"I’m fine... probably..."

"I told you—don’t push yourself."

Zeming sighed, bringing the fork slowly to her lips.

Eira stared at the food silently. Then she looked up and ate without hesitation.

"Oh? No resistance at all. This is my fork, you know."

She blushed slightly but had no time to react.

"A little more? If you don’t mind."

"...I have work. Better save energy."

"Listen—you shouldn’t work like this."

Her body was too weak.

"It’s fine. I must be at my post. Being a Hero isn’t a normal job. We show up daily. At least make an appearance—or it’d be disastrous."

A Hero isn’t a career. It’s a selfless belief. Our presence keeps people safe. They feel secure just knowing we exist.

"But your body can’t handle it. If others learn about this exhaustion, it’ll be bad."

They argued while feeding each other.

"It’s okay. I’ll call in sick and handle minor tasks."

"You can’t even hold a fork. Be careful."

...

Today would be tough.

Eira swayed, as if about to pass out.

"No—your condition is terrible."

"Since when do you order me around?"

Eira glared, radiating a threatening aura.

But this time, he wouldn’t back down.

"Punish me after you recover. But now—you can’t do this. It’s bad for you."

"You... let go..."

Eira tried to reach out. No strength. She couldn’t move an inch.

"Just take the day off."

Zeming turned behind him.

"Eira’s older sister—do you agree?"

Eira’s eyes widened. Hidden even from her was her sister.

Elusa stepped out in military uniform, arms crossed, frowning.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"Fine. But you care for her."

"What, sister?"

Eira frowned in confusion.

"I said it’s fine."

Unexpectedly, Elusa agreed.

"I’ll fetch Vivian from my mom’s place later."

"Vivian..."

"Of course. She must be worried."

"Is that so."

"Of course. Do you think our child’s an idiot?"