When I wake up, it feels like the world itself is welcoming me, like the dawn of a new beginning. The first thing I hear is the sweet chorus of birds singing their morning songs, their melodies weaving through the cool breeze that dances through the air. The sunlight pours down in soft, golden beams, warming my skin and filling the world around me with a sense of serenity.

I blink, and as I stretch my arms above me, a strange but exhilarating feeling rushes through me. I pause, running my hands over my body, feeling the softness of my skin, the gentle rise and fall of my chest. There's no mistaking it. I'm human.

A wave of information floods my mind, overwhelming and precise, like a torrent of knowledge racing through my veins. This world—the world I now inhabit—has powers unlike any other. People here are born with what are called quirks. Some wield incredible abilities, while others, well, live normal lives, their powers too small or insignificant to make any mark on the world. Society is structured, divided into three distinct groups: the heroes—those who fight for justice and recognition; the civilians—ordinary people who simply want to exist, their quirks more of an afterthought than a defining feature; and the villains—the lowest of the low, those who use their powers for destruction and chaos.

I smile softly to myself. This'll be interesting.

For some, this might be overwhelming, a whole new world to understand and navigate. But for me? It feels like a puzzle I've been given the pieces to. My place in this world is already clear, even if the details are still hazy.

"Oi, who are you and why are you just lying there?"

The voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn, startled, to find a tall, blonde kid with spiky hair glaring down at me. His sharp red eyes burn with a kind of intensity, and his whole posture screams aggression. He radiates an air of annoyance, like everything about the world is one big inconvenience to him.

I tilt my head, unfazed by his brash tone. "Oh, I'm Nyx," I say with a warm, effortless smile, as if we're old friends already.

The kid's eyes flicker with a mix of confusion and discomfort at my calm demeanor, but he quickly regains his scowl. "Bakugo. Remember it, 'cause I'm gonna be the number one hero."

His declaration comes out like a challenge, but it's clear he doesn't expect an answer. Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms off, his explosive energy leaving a trail of heat in the air.

I scratch my neck, a nervous chuckle slipping from my lips. Well, he seemed nice, I think, watching him disappear into the distance.

I let out a small breath, turning back to take in the world around me. This place, with its quirks, its heroes, and its villains, is one step closer to becoming my new reality. And for some reason, it feels like I've been here before.

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I wander aimlessly through the bustling streets, not really having any particular destination in mind. The world around me feels vibrant—alive with the hum of bustling citizens and the strange pulse of power in the air, as if the city itself is charged with the energy of quirks. My thoughts drift back to that brash kid, Bakugo. I'm not exactly in the mood to chase him down; I can practically hear his explosive temper just waiting to blow up in my face. Yeah, not today, I huff to myself, the thought alone making me shake my head.

And then, as if summoned by my inner musings, a voice calls out, gruff yet laced with a quiet warmth. "Are you alright, miss?"

I spin around, caught off guard, and find a man standing before me. His attire is worn, scruffy even, as if he's lived more days in the rough than anyone would care to count. His long, dark hair falls over his shoulders in untamed waves, and his black eyes are intense, a sharp contrast to the softness of his voice. He looks like someone who's seen his share of trouble, yet there's an odd gentleness in his gaze—like a man who carries the weight of the world but still offers a hand when needed.

I smile at him, grateful for the unexpected kindness. "Yes, yes, I'm fine, just looking for a place to stay, really," I say, scratching the back of my neck, a nervous habit that's not entirely new to me. I can tell this city is a place where power is wielded in every corner, and I don't quite know where I fit in yet.

The man hums thoughtfully, his expression unreadable, but then his gaze softens as he extends a hand toward me. "I'm Shota Aizawa," he says, his voice steady but tinged with something else I can't quite place. "You can stay at my place until we find you somewhere."

I blink at him in surprise. I wasn't expecting such an offer from a complete stranger, much less someone who clearly had a no-nonsense aura about him. Internally, I can almost hear his thoughts—What the hell am I doing, just offering shelter to a random lady on the street? Ugh, this hero work is worse than I thought. But she's pretty, so that's a plus.

I can't help the chuckle that bubbles up inside me at the thought, but I push it down, flashing him a warm smile. "Thank you, Mr. Shota, I'm Nyx." His name tastes strange on my tongue, but it fits him. There's something quietly commanding about him, even if he doesn't show it.

Aizawa hums again, seemingly pleased with my response—or maybe just resigned to his decision—before letting go of my hand and turning on his heel. He gestures for me to follow him, leading me down the crowded street. People stare as we pass, and I can feel their eyes on me, their curiosity sharper than any quirk. Honestly, I have no idea how I look in this world, but I've never had trouble turning heads. I can only assume that, yes, I'm pretty—but that's neither here nor there.

Shota takes me to his block, a modest but solid building tucked away from the noise of the city. He leads me up a few flights of stairs, his footsteps steady and calm, before stopping in front of a door that looks as though it's seen better days. "This will do for now," he says, gesturing to the room. "You can rest here. There's a bathroom down the hall." His tone is blunt, but there's a kindness beneath it, a sense of reliability that tells me I'm in capable hands—whether I want to admit it or not.

I nod, feeling a small sense of relief settle in my chest. "Thanks, Aizawa," I say, before stepping inside the room, my eyes scanning the simple yet comfortable space. It's nothing extravagant, but it's enough.

Aizawa gives a small nod and steps back toward the door. "Get some rest. I'll check in later," he says before disappearing down the hall.

The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I'm left alone in the quiet. I exhale, letting the silence wrap around me, and for the first time since waking up in this strange new world, I feel like I can finally breathe.

I'm not sure what comes next. But for now, I've found a place to sleep, and that's all I need.