Tokusatsu Academy: From Apprentice to God - Heroic Tales

Happy New Year to all of you!! Tell me what you think in the comments! I'll try to answer everyone.

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Salvador | 2 hours after the Chronus' Gaze | 2500

A hurried Sirius Renovas was heading home with some speed.

Turning the corner and seeing that his house was the only one with the lights on, he felt relieved knowing his father was fine.

But as soon as he opened the door, he was punched square in the nose.

"Ouch! Damn it! What was that for, you old bastard?!" he exclaimed, glaring at his father, who wore a big grin on his face.

"Relax, kid, I thought you were a burglar. Besides, if you were water, that wouldn't have happened," Raimundo, Sirius' father, said in a surfer-like tone, making Sirius' left eye twitch in frustration.

The old man was shirtless, with dark brown skin even darker than Sirius'. He sported a shaved head with the Ouroboros symbol carved into both sides, a symbol also tattooed three times on his chest—two above and one below—all within a bottomless sphere. At the center, a shark was depicted screaming and spitting fire.

Both of his eyes were completely white due to his blindness, and a long horizontal scar stretched across his face, starting at his right eye and ending at the left.

To top it off, he wore shorts with a pattern of muscular sharks in tank tops, which Sirius found horrendously tasteless. What kind of fashion sense was that?

His father motioned with his head for Sirius to come inside, prompting the boy to mutter "Whatever" under his breath before lazily letting his hair flop and stepping in.

The house was spacious and colorful—ironically so, considering his father was blind. It resembled a literal circus, especially since his father NEVER let Sirius handle the design. The result? Everything was excessively vibrant, with clashing colors everywhere.

The couch was baby blue, the floor orange, and the ceiling burgundy. The lamps were pink, and the tables were actually abstract art pieces his father had bought by mistake and never realized, despite Sirius pointing it out every day.

The chairs? Golden and chromed, reflecting the pink light from the lamps—a chaotic mix of gold, shiny silver, and hot pink in your face. Merkana once had an epileptic seizure during a visit. Perhaps Mercurian biology wasn't made to withstand such color shocks.

The house had three floors and four bedrooms. Sirius and his father had two. The others? You'd think they'd be for guests, but after a few visits, no one ever came back.

Sirius plopped down on the baby-blue couch, legs crossed and arms sprawled across the backrest. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, basking in the rare tranquility after a chaotic day.

Meanwhile, his father was listening to something through a custom DermaData device designed for the blind, paying little attention to his surroundings. That is, until he suddenly asked:

"Did you fight well?"

"Huh?" Sirius opened his eyes, briefly confused.

"I'm asking if you fought well, hero. How many asses did you kick?" Raimundo asked, facing a wall as if Sirius were there.

"I guess... I don't know, I lost count. But I managed to take down some minions with strategy," Sirius said, thinking a bit more. "And I kicked the nuts of a villain with adaptive powers."

"Haha! That'd make your mom proud. She was a great strategist," Raimundo replied, sitting beside his son. "And she also kicked villains in the nuts."

"Got it, Dad," Sirius said, ignoring the latter part. He was clearly exhausted, his voice dripping with apathy.

This sorry sight made the blind man furrow his brow, despite being unable to see his son's state.

"Kid... take some initiative," Raimundo said.

"Huh?" Sirius replied.

"Enough with the 'huh!' It's annoying," Raimundo snapped.

"No, seriously, what do you mean?" Sirius asked, his tone tinged with irritation.

"Isn't it obvious? Look at yourself—you're pathetic!"

"You're blind! How can you be so sure?!"

"That's irrelevant! You've become a lazy young man with no drive, only showing strength when the situation forces it!"

"So what? At least I show some strength," Sirius retorted.

"That's not the point! Can't you see? You're wasting so much potential. How will you achieve your dream like this?!"

"Enough, Dad. I know how to handle myself when it matters. I don't need to show initiative daily for that. Honestly? I couldn't care less. Stop being such a pai—"

His father cut him off with a punch to the face, knocking him to the floor. Sirius rolled to lessen the impact as he fell.

"What the hell was that for, you old bastard?!" Sirius shouted.

"If you knew how to handle yourself, you wouldn't have been hit," Raimundo replied smugly.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Sirius got up and stormed toward his room.

"GO TO HELL, OLD MAN!" he yelled while climbing the stairs.

The older man just sighed in discontent, a small, mocking smile on his face. It was astonishing how his relationship with his son always seemed to go from bad to worse.

If she were here, she'd know what to do, the blind man thought.

If his beloved Alcione were still alive, their son wouldn't be like this. Their son would be a happy person.

Raimundo knew Sirius struggled with inertia, but he also knew something else.

His son was battling depression. As much as Sirius tried to hide it (and sometimes didn't even bother), Raimundo recognized the symptoms all too well—they'd haunted him his entire life.

(What do I do…) he wondered to himself. (What do I do, my love?)

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Salvador | Sirius' Room | Moments Later

The emptiness that sometimes consumed Sirius felt unbearable. But not tonight. Tonight, he was far from one of those days.

Still, fear lingered—the fear that the void might one day swallow him whole.

His life had never been easy, though it might seem so to anyone looking at his timeline up to a certain point.

Sirius was born on June 12, 2481, at Renilson Carmini Hospital, the son of Raimundo and Alcione Renovas. He didn't know much about what his parents did, but honestly, he no longer cared.

He remembered clearly how simple and happy his life had been. A bright child from an early age, he was in his third year of high school at an age far below average. Always smiling and disciplined, especially around his mother, an tireless woman who lit up everything around her.

And then everything changed. After September 11, 2486.

His birthday had been three months earlier. His mother was alive. He still remembered the warmth of her hug on the morning of the 11th.

But that night, the noise in the house woke him. Before he could react, something cold pierced his stomach. He blacked out.

When he woke up in the hospital, his first question was about his parents. Where were they?

His father appeared, his eyes bandaged, and nothing remained of the smiling man he once was. It was then that Sirius learned the truth: his mother, Alcione Renovas, was dead.

From that moment, any possibility of a bright future vanished.

Sirius' grades plummeted. His behavior changed drastically—he became an angry, hollow young man, prone to violent outbursts. At nine years old, he was expelled from high school. Concerned, his father transferred him back to middle school, hoping to preserve his mental health.

But nothing mattered anymore. Sirius' intelligence was still there, but he had no use for it. He had no reason to care.

Rage consumed him. Like the time he attacked a classmate with a dinner knife.

The boy lost an eye and had to be rushed to the hospital.

Sirius avoided prison only because he was a minor.

---

He flopped onto his bed, sinking into the pillow's softness as if into a comforting embrace. Still, the pain in his face lingered.

The void was there, but he tried not to think about it. Not tonight.

Instead, he thought about the incident with the Chronus'Gaze.

Did he win by strategy? Yes. Was he smart about it? Not exactly.

He hadn't used the environment as he should have. Most of his plans fell apart due to adrenaline.

He wasn't ready. No, he wasn't.

And that scared him.

Had he wasted that much time? Could he achieve anything?

Sirius smiled bitterly at himself.

"I've been an idiot," he thought, laughing nervously.

"Mimicking a cat... That was ridiculous," he muttered, unable to hold back a sigh.

"This definitely needs to come off the list. I need to improve in that area."

As he reflected, a new realization dawned on him.

"I didn't just deviate from all my plans—I practically ignored most of them."

It was like an internal struggle: a natural instinct drove him to plan, but adrenaline knocked him off course, derailing everything.

"I'm not cut out for this, literally," he thought. "Does this have something to do with my species? What the hell am I?"

Suddenly, the weight of depression bore down on him.

He remembered the first time he transmuted, when he compared himself to Zariani, when he thought he could really help "Cereal." He thought he had grown stronger… but facing that clown alongside those two made him realize they were something else entirely.

"I've become powerful... but those three... they're monsters," he sighed in disappointment.

Staring at the ceiling, he felt too drained to move. Everything seemed meaningless.

But then, silence enveloped him. Not a void that consumed, but something more profound. A moment of clarity despite his pain.

Suddenly, he pushed the emptiness aside. Something in his gaze shifted, a small but noticeable flicker of determination.

"Heh..."

With a burst of energy, he got up and headed for the window. He opened it quickly and, before the thought could fade, left the house.

His goal? To find a certain "Methamphetamineion."

To be continued…