Reborn as flatline and I have the powers of Rogue Sun in DC

The afternoon sun dipped lazily over the Tokyo skyline, casting warm hues over the bustling streets. Among the steady hum of life and chatter, a foreign girl sat at an outdoor table of a modest coffee shop, sipping quietly from her cup.

Her striking appearance made her impossible to ignore.

Passersby stole glances, not just at her undeniable beauty but at the curious contrast of her features—ashen-white hair cascading down her back, pale skin that carried a faint, unnatural glow, and piercing red eyes that flickered in the light.

It was as if she had stepped out of a painting, surreal and out of place.

Nika.

She could feel the weight of the stares, but it didn't bother her.

Thankfully, metahumans were already public knowledge.

Her presence might have raised more questions if they weren't. Even so, she knew she stood out.

Nika gently set her cup down on the saucer, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze drifted over the crowded street, but her mind was elsewhere.

Focus.

She shook the thoughts away, honing in on her objective.

It took me a week and a half to get to Japan.

Travel hadn't been easy. Flying was out of the question. Her appearance alone would have triggered too much attention at security.

I had to cross by land.

It was slow, and at times frustrating, but Nika didn't mind the journey. She had been careful, cutting through routes that kept her out of trouble.

Her hair had grown longer in the process.

What once barely brushed her shoulders now fell down her back, soft and wild.

I'm not cutting it.

Nika reached up, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. She used to love caring for her hair when she was young—in both lives.

She missed that simple joy.

I'll grow it out.

The thought lingered as she stood, stretching slightly before heading inside to settle her tab.

Tokyo was vast and vibrant, but her mission hadn't been leisurely.

The first thing she did upon arrival was visit a hospital.

Not for herself—but to find someone dying.

The easiest way to pick up the language.

It hadn't been simple. Navigating the hospital, finding the right room, ensuring no one questioned why she was there.

But in the end, she managed. The language drifted naturally into her mind through her powers.

One objective down.

Her second goal was to secure a place to stay.

Not great.

The room she found was small and damp, tucked into the corner of a less-than-welcoming neighborhood.

But it was temporary.

She didn't need luxury—she needed time.

Now, her third objective loomed.

Find the base of Lord Death Man.

The idea might have seemed ridiculous to others. Of all the criminals and villains in Japan, she deliberately chose him.

Why?

Because Lord Death Man was, at times, more cartoonish than menacing.

A bizarre villain who could regenerate from death, known for over-the-top antics and ridiculous schemes.

But just because he's goofy… doesn't mean he isn't dangerous.

There was still one important detail.

He killed every hero in Japan once.

Wiped them out.

It hadn't happened yet—not in this timeline, at least—but the thought still crossed her mind as she walked down the narrow street.

I'd rather work for him than someone like Joker or Lex Luthor.

Those two were Too unpredictable. Too chaotic.

Lord Death Man was a safer bet.

Relatively speaking.

Nika paused at the corner of an alleyway, tugging at the fabric inside her jacket pocket.

She already picked her disguise.

Pretend to be a man.

It was simple—another layer to keep herself hidden.

Her outfit reflected that.

(Image of the costume)

It was more casual than a villain's usual garb—functional, sleek, but low-profile. Something that wouldn't immediately scream "danger."

But she had added a touch of personality to it.

Nika pulled the mask from her pocket, flipping it over in her hands.

It was from one of her favorite series—a mask worn by a character that resonated with her.

Her new code name would match.

Mongrel.

A little homage.

She slipped the mask into place, letting it rest comfortably over her face.

Tokyo stretched endlessly ahead of her, lights shimmering faintly as the sun dipped lower over the horizon.

It was time to get started.

Somewhere deep in Tokyo, far from the bright neon lights and crowded streets, a narrow alley stretched into the shadows.

A group of men—**all wearing skull masks—**worked quietly, unloading crates from the back of an unmarked truck. The only sound was the occasional scrape of wood against concrete as they moved the boxes into a dimly lit building.

Ordinarily, this sight alone would have been enough for anyone to call the police. But no one was around.

Civilians didn't stray near these parts, and the few that did knew better than to ask questions.

Lord Death Man's men.

Nika crouched silently behind a stack of crates, watching them through the faint glow of a streetlamp.

It took me a while to find this operation.

The problem wasn't locating one of his activities—Lord Death Man was one of the biggest villains in Japan.

His operations were everywhere.

The hard part… was choosing the right one.

If she made too much noise or sabotaged something important, she risked drawing unnecessary attention.

I needed something disposable.

A small smuggling ring—something he wouldn't mind losing in exchange for a potential recruit.

One of the goons set a crate down with a grunt, wiping his hands on his pants as he gestured for the others to hurry.

Nika slipped quietly toward the building's entrance, pressing her back against the cold concrete wall.

This should do.

She edged her way inside, eyes adjusting quickly to the dim lighting. The warehouse was filled with boxes, stacked high against the walls. Dust hung thick in the air, coating everything in a fine layer of grime.

Nika weaved through the aisles, moving carefully to avoid detection.

That's when she saw it.

Resting against one of the crates was a katana—straight-bladed, not curved.

Her eyes narrowed as she unsheathed it slowly, the blade gleaming faintly under the weak light.

A genuine sword… and in damn good condition.

Nika turned it over in her hand, testing the weight. It felt balanced—smooth, precise.

Her mind was made up instantly.

Rogue Sun will wield the spear… but Mongrel?

Mongrel will wield a sword.

The faint creak of a door jolted her from her thoughts.

Footsteps.

Time to move.

Nika slung the katana over her back, opting not to carry it at her side. Her hand lingered near the hilt as the door at the far end swung open.

The first thing the goon saw was **the bottom of her boot—**inches from his face.

CRACK.

The force of the kick sent him flying backward, crashing into a table and snapping it clean in half.

The loud thud echoed through the warehouse, drawing the attention of the other goons.

They all turned, their masked faces snapping toward the source of the commotion.

Perfect.

Before they could react, Nika was already moving.

She weaved between them, striking hard and fast.

One hit to the pressure points.

Two hits to knock them out.

They dropped like dominoes, one after another, collapsing to the floor before they could reach for their weapons.

The last goon barely had time to process what was happening before Nika shoved him to the ground, pinning him with her knee.

"Damn hero!" he spat, struggling beneath her. "I won't tell you anything!"

Nika scoffed, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him upright.

"Yeah, yeah—shut your generic ass up."

The goon's eyes widened slightly.

"I'm not here to arrest you," Nika continued, tightening her grip. "I'm here to give you guys a message."

She leaned in, letting her eyes glint faintly beneath the mask.

"Tell your boss there's someone interested in working with him."

The goon swallowed hard but nodded slowly.

Nika smirked, releasing him with a shove.

He hit the floor, groaning as he crawled backward.

She didn't stick around to watch.

Her message had been delivered.

Now all she had to do was wait.

Half a day later, the same minion Nika had threatened returned. Without bothering to check if she was there, he just stood at the mouth of the alley and yelled about the meeting spot before walking off.

What an idiot.

Nika sighed, stepping out of the shadows. Lord Death Man's definitely going to test me. There was no way someone like him would take things at face value.

Her mind drifted briefly as she adjusted her stance, tugging at the extensions she'd placed under her disguise. The added height gave her a more adult appearance, helping hide the fact that she was barely a teenager.

Sudden growth spurts would be a dead giveaway.

It doesn't matter. As long as she won whatever fight came her way, no one would care.

Later that night, on the roof of an abandoned building, Nika stepped through the rusted door leading to the rooftop. Her eyes immediately locked onto an oversized, gaudy chair perched near the edge—a throne, facing the city skyline.

It looked completely out of place against the crumbling concrete and broken ledge. Surrounding it was a small crowd of minions, standing stiffly like some bizarre honor guard.

Nika's brow twitched. "So… why exactly did you drag your chair up here?" she called out, casually resting her hand on her hip. "Your guys look like they're about to pass out."

The minions flinched, visibly deflating as soon as she said it, a few dropping to their knees dramatically.

Called it.

Lord Death Man, still seated in his ridiculous throne, didn't even glance at them. "You don't get it," he replied, his tone theatrical. "The sunrise from up here… magnificent."

Nika crossed her arms. He ignored everything I said except for that.

"Right, well. I'll get to the point," she continued. "I came here because I want to work with you."

Lord Death Man leaned back, folding his skeletal fingers beneath his chin. "Work with me? You make it sound like you're applying for a partnership."

"I am," Nika replied smoothly. "Heroes have partners—Batman has Robin. Villains? They usually have heavy hitters. Someone who does more than just grunt work."

Lord Death Man let out a raspy chuckle. "You're saying you're a heavy hitter?"

"That's what I've been implying this entire time."

Silence stretched for a beat before he slowly rose from his chair, his grin widening beneath his mask. "Let's see if that's true, then. Lord Death Man will battle you personally."

Without warning, he did a backflip.

Or at least he tried to.

His foot caught awkwardly on the edge of the chair, and he landed headfirst on the rooftop with a heavy thud. His body crumpled unnaturally, neck twisted at a painful angle.

Nika stared, blinking slowly. The minions froze.

For a few awkward seconds, no one moved.

Then, with a loud crack, Lord Death Man casually twisted his head back into place and stood as if nothing happened. "That was a nice move, right?" he said, brushing dust off his jacket.

"Sure," Nika deadpanned, hand already drifting toward the hilt of her sword.

Lord Death Man cracked his knuckles. "Let's see what you've got."

Without further hesitation, he lunged.

Nika sighed as she drew her blade.

Guess I'm doing this.

Several minutes later, Lord Death Man's dismembered head rolled to a stop at her feet.

His body lay sprawled across the rooftop, missing an arm and half of his torso.

Slowly, the head's eyes flickered to life. "I've been killed many times, you know," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather. "It really makes you appreciate the deadliest attacks."

His severed hand gave her a thumbs-up from somewhere by the ledge.

Nika wiped the blade clean with a small cloth, sliding it back into its sheath. "Glad you're impressed."

Lord Death Man's body reassembled itself, bones snapping back into place as he dusted off his shoulders. "You're strong. Your movements are precise—skilled in hand-to-hand combat too. Impressive for someone your size."

Nika raised a brow as he scooped up his head, placing it carefully on his neck.

"So, no sidekick," he continued, watching her closely. "What's your name?"

Nika lowered her mask slightly, her red eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

"Call me Mongrel."

Lord Death Man grinned, his hollow eyes narrowing with interest.

It had begun.

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Hey everyone, I just wanted to say I'm starting another fanfiction—"Wielding Magnetism Magic in Fairy Tail."

There are two things I want to make clear from the start:

1. There will be no harem.

2. The main character won't be overpowered.

I feel like every fanfiction I come across has one (or both) of these tropes, and honestly, I'm the biggest hater of harems and overpowered characters who aren't Saitama.

I hope you enjoy the story once it's out!