Hey. My name is Skulld. I'm almost thirteen. I'm tall, black, and I look okay . . . about what you'd expect from a thirteen-year-old. I live in Ashcrete. Here, everyone can do something special, whether it's licking their nose, doing a handstand, summoning demons, or shooting spikes out of their stomach. Whatever it is, it's their own unique ability. Their power. Usually, people recognize their ability between the time they're born and the end of puberty. 

Power is everything here in Ashcrete and in most of the world, for that matter. Whether or not you have a useful power dictates what standing you have in life. Popularity, jobs, where you sit at lunch. It all has to do with how good you are at fighting. 

For example, imagine someone could grow to ten times their size. They would get stronger relative to how big they were. On the spectrum of powers, this would be pretty awesome. Probably a B-rank in terms of strength. They might get a good job in construction. A secondary power like a supersonic punch could push them up to an A-rank. Then, they might get a job in public service or something. 

Below A-rank powers are the the average ranks (B and C ranks), and then there's my sad group: the D-Ranks. My group usually has lame powers like accelerated fingernail growth. Personally, I don't think it matters what power you have. My power is to heal really fast when I brush my teeth. I have a group of people like me at school, so I'm not that alone. Still, your powers can seriously influence your life. I mean, people are literally named after their powers. 

There's Justin—his legal name is Blunt. He's short with a peach complexion and constantly furrowed brows, even when he's smiling. The guy can win any small argument. Andres—whose legal name is Speed-Eater—is skinny, Latino, and has a nervous smile but is very funny. He can eat and digest really fast. Martin—whose legal name is Glasses—is Black, my height, always serious, and slightly smarter than normal when wearing glasses. And Aiden—just Aiden, his parents are weird—has unsettling white eyes with rings around the irises. 

We attend Spartan Intermediate, "The School to Make You Strong!" We sit at the table farthest from the lunch ladies. That's it, our little sanctuary. We didn't really choose to be friends, but eventually we were pushed together as the weakest members of the school. 

The thing about our school is that violence is allowed. As long as there's a third party present, anyone can fight. Sadly, about six hundred parents think this is okay, including my mother. Keep in mind that the average student here can shoot plasma beams out of their eyes or rip a steel beam in two. 

Also, having no powers makes us easy targets for those looking to sharpen their skills. We don't get bullied too often anymore, mostly because of how creepy people think Aiden is. We even have a lunch table to ourselves. And while it is literally the worst table in the school, it's ours, so we love it. 

Life isn't all good. One thing every kid has in common is that they want to be a hero. Many societies revolve around heroes, villains, and the strength that people have. This is because someone is always going to abuse power. That never changes. 

Many powers are inherited, so the kids with useless powers usually don't have successful parents. I'm lucky in that area, because my mother's an A-rank hero called Tailor. She can control fabric and threads. Money isn't too hard to come by, but my friends aren't as fortunate as I am. 

Still, I enjoy my powerless life.  

My favorite class is also my least favorite class: Power Enhancement, or P.E. for short. In P.E., they let us do activities that are fun but strengthen your weaknesses and help to develop your powers. For instance, Levitate has the power to float himself and other objects, up to thirty pounds in weight, off the ground. So he might practice levitating himself and a 30.23-pound object, slowly increasing the object's weight. 

I try to keep a notebook filled with information about the students' and teachers' powers. Levitate is entry #29. He's quite nice. 

For me, I can't really test my healing without hurting myself, so I just do physical conditioning. It's relaxing and gives me time to think about stuff, like my ever-growing catalog of students. The thing about being powerless is that you either hate the powerful people or idolize them. I'd like to think I'm neutral. In reality, I know I hate them. There's a reason why, too. Powerful people seem to think they are better than you, that they have control over you. So you can either fight back or accept their control. At least, that's the way I see it. 

Anyway, the gym is the largest part of my school. It's about the length of a football field and twice as wide. Half of the building is open air and the other half is enclosed. The entire room is like an obstacle course. It's the best junior high in the USA for those who want to go to a police academy. 

"SKULLD! You're up for sparring!" Coach Blowhard yells. Blowhard is a tall, muscular man. He was a great hero in his prime, with the ability to expel huge amounts of air through his mouth at high speeds. Eventually, he fell out of fame because his bad dental hygiene gave his wind a terrible stench. He volunteered at Spartan and became the coolest gym teacher, though he can get a little loud. Entry #21. 

I head toward the comically large boxing ring in the center of the field and size up my opponent. His name is Vector, entry #126. His power is to imbue any object he touches with force and move it. His weakness is that the object can only move in a straight line. Such a waste of a power, too. Vector is A-ranked, but he is annoying and mean to lower-ranked people, especially me and my friend group. 

"Pfft. What can you do against me?" Vector asks. "Brush me to death?" 

Vector tends to try to rile people up. I think it's some kind of superiority complex. I put down my notebook and mutter, "Let's get this over with." My best strategy is to rush Vector head on and hope he'll be too surprised to do anything. 

"Rules are, whoever is out of the ring first or knocked out first loses! Everything goes! Ready, set, GO!" Coach Blowhard yells. 

I take off like a bullet. About a foot away from Vector, a rock the size of a fist smashes into my face. I fall to the floor, letting out a cry of pain. Blood gushes from my nose. Vector stands over me, grinning. It looks like he's speaking, but I can't hear because of the blood pounding in my ears. I see Vector crouch down and point at me, laughing. Then, I see red. 

"AAAAAGHH!" I yell. I get up, run, and drop kick him. He falls hard, the wind knocked out of him, but he recovers and grabs another rock from his pocket. I get ready to tackle him again. His second rock shoots past my face. I grab him with both arms, intending to pull back for a head-butt, but something in Vector's eyes makes me pause. He is still smiling. 

"I can use my power on anything I want, idiot," he says. I shudder, realizing what he means to do. He uses his power to send me flying backward, but I have his shirt in a death grip. Even after I hear something in my arm snap, I don't let go. 

Of course, Vector expected me to let go. He looks terrified as we are launched into the air, covered in my blood. He lets out a noise I can't quite describe. Something between a Chihuahua's bark, a horse's neigh, and a rabbit's scream. I slam into the rope encircling the ring and Vector is flung from my grasp. Everything hurts, but I still stand up. I have to. I am covered in blood, bruised, and bleeding all over. "Someone get me a tooth brush!" I scream. 

Then, I black out. Some victory scream, huh? I hate P.E.  

I wake up in the nurse's office. I've already been here over sixteen times in the past week, mostly because of fights someone else started. The nice thing is that medical help is easy to come by when you go to a school where people start fights because they're bored. Ms. Undone is the school nurse and just about my favorite staff member here. Her power is to reverse time one hour on any object or person. Entry #22. 

"Who was it this time, Skulld?" she asks. "That idiot, Charger?" (Entry #135. He's literally an unstoppable force. Very blunt. We've clashed several times. Or, rather, he's knocked me into walls several times.) "Or that bully, Vector?" 

I nod at Vector's name. "We had sparring in P.E., and he was my opponent. He really looked like he wanted to hurt me." 

Ms. Undone looks at me with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry everyone here is so dumb," she says. "I have no idea why anyone would want to be mean to you. It's just terrible." 

She is right, as always. I consider myself to be a pretty good person. I only get into fights when I defend someone. My heroism hasn't been met with much appreciation, though. So far it has just earned me the nickname The Weakest Shield. Not very cool. At all. 

"I've got to go, Ms. Undone. I'm going to be late for class. My mother's already going to kill me for missing the rest of P.E.," I say. 

Ms. Undone grabs my shoulder and shakes her head. She quietly says, "School has been over for about an hour. You fainted after the treatment. Your mother already called the school, and I told her what happened. Also, she sounded sort of angry. Sorry, Skulld." 

My mother values my education above all else, and she isn't very reasonable when it comes to missing class. Then again, she did put me in a school where fighting is encouraged. I shiver, thinking of the scolding that is to come. "Bye Ms. Undone. If I don't come back tomorrow . . . well, you know where I live," I say.