The Hero Code

The day had been long, filled with the usual side glances and murmurs from their sarcastically dubbed "fan club." Gossip had reached new heights, with wild exaggerations of their every move floating through the halls. Zik, Tobias, and Aiden had endured it with their usual mix of humor and indifference, but by the time school ended, they all agreed on one thing: they needed a break.

"How about we hit up the old arcade on the edge of town?" Zik suggested as they walked out of school.

"Remote, quiet, full of broken games? Perfect," Aiden said with a grin. "Let's do it."

Tobias shrugged, his usual calm demeanor intact. "As long as we're not around… them," he said, tilting his head toward the general direction of their "fans."

And so, they set off.

---

The arcade was exactly what they'd expected—dimly lit, filled with the hum of ancient machines, and mercifully deserted. Except for one thing.

At the far end of the room, under a blinking neon light that read "Princess Party Station," stood someone they never expected to see.

There she was, the same girl who had tried to humiliate Tobias just the day before. But now, she wasn't the smug, self-righteous student they'd seen at school. She was dressed in a bright pink princess costume, complete with a tiara and a glittery wand, twirling and singing an overly cheerful song to a group of excited kids.

"Oh… my… God," Aiden whispered, his eyes wide with glee.

Zik's jaw dropped. Tobias just blinked, unsure if he was seeing this right.

The girl noticed them immediately. She froze mid-spin, her wand still raised, her face turning as red as the neon sign.

"What… are… you doing here?" she stammered, her voice high-pitched with panic.

Aiden, already holding up his phone, smirked. "Oh, don't mind us. Just enjoying the show."

Before she could say anything, he hit record, zooming in as she awkwardly tried to finish the routine.

"Please stop!" she hissed, her voice almost cracking as the kids clapped and cheered for her.

When the routine ended, she practically bolted over to them, her glittery dress swishing wildly. "You can't—don't—please don't show anyone that!" she begged, looking from one face to the other.

The three amigos exchanged glances, their expressions varying between shock and barely-contained laughter.

They didn't say a word. Instead, they turned and walked out of the arcade, bursting into laughter as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Did you see her face?" Aiden howled, clutching his stomach. "Priceless!"

"I think she turned three different shades of red," Zik said, trying to catch his breath.

Even Tobias, usually reserved, was laughing softly. "I didn't think today could get better, but… wow."

---

The laughter didn't last long, though. As they walked down the quiet street, the atmosphere shifted.

Aiden held up his phone, still grinning. "So, do we post it? Let everyone see the 'princess' in action?"

Zik stopped walking, his smile fading. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Why not?" Aiden asked, his tone light but with an edge of mischief. "She's been talking trash about Tobias for two days straight. Don't you think she deserves it?"

Tobias shrugged, his calm demeanor returning. "Honestly? I don't care. She means nothing to me. I don't want her to."

Zik nodded. "I get that." He turned to Aiden, his expression serious. "But that's not the point."

"Oh, here we go," Aiden said, rolling his eyes. "What's the 'hero code' for this one?"

"The 12th Hero Code," Zik replied, his voice steady. "Don't spread gossip."

Aiden raised an eyebrow. "How is this gossip? It's literally a video."

"It's the same idea," Zik explained. "Gossip spreads something private, something embarrassing, and it hurts people. Doesn't matter if it's true or not—it's not ours to share."

Tobias nodded. "And honestly, what's the point? She's not worth it."

Aiden sighed dramatically. "You guys are so boring. She's been running her mouth about Tobias nonstop, and you're just going to let it slide?"

Zik shrugged. "I'm not saying you can't post it. Do what you want. I won't stop you. But I'm not going to support it either."

Tobias added, "Yeah. If you think it's worth it, go ahead. I won't tell you what to do."

Aiden groaned, looking at his phone again. "Ugh, you're both the worst. Fine. I'll sleep on it."

---

The three walked in silence for a moment before Aiden sighed again, this time more thoughtfully. "You guys really think she doesn't deserve it?"

Zik glanced at him. "I think she deserves to live with the fact that we know."

Tobias smirked. "That's punishment enough."

Aiden chuckled, pocketing his phone. "Alright, fine. You win. For now."

As they continued down the street, the tension melted away, replaced by the easy camaraderie that always seemed to bring them back together. The three amigos weren't perfect, but they were learning—one awkward, hilarious, and sometimes difficult step at a time.

The morning sunlight felt harsher than usual as she walked through the school gates, her stomach in knots. Her usual confidence had been replaced by a gnawing anxiety that she couldn't shake. She clutched the straps of her bag tightly, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

She hadn't dared open her phone all night or that morning. The thought of scrolling through social media terrified her. Every ping from her notifications felt like a punch to the gut. Did they post it?

Her heart raced every time she thought about the possibility. She could still see their faces, the way they'd laughed when they left the arcade. Especially Aiden, with his stupid smirk and his phone in hand, recording her most embarrassing moment. She could practically hear the mocking comments her classmates would make if that video got out.

"It was supposed to be a safe job," she muttered under her breath as she trudged toward the school building. "Remote arcade, middle of nowhere. Worst case, I figured I'd get robbed. Not… this."

She clenched her jaw, trying to steady her nerves. She'd only taken the job because she desperately needed the money. Her family wasn't just poor—they were barely scraping by. The bills piled up faster than her mom could manage, and the idea of contributing, even a little, had felt like the right thing to do. The princess gig wasn't glamorous, but it paid decently. She hadn't expected anyone she knew to show up.

But of course, fate had other plans.

---

When she walked into the courtyard, the first thing she heard made her heart sink.

"… Tobias is such a freak," someone muttered near the lockers.

Her breath caught in her throat, her nerves firing off in panic. For a split second, she thought they were talking about her. But as she glanced around, she realized they were still gossiping about him.

The knot in her stomach twisted.

Another group nearby was laughing, their words cutting like knives. "Did you see him yesterday? Acting like he's all high and mighty. Like, dude, we know what you are."

"Bet he's just waiting to snap," someone added. "It's only a matter of time."

She froze in place, staring down at the ground. Their words blurred together into a hateful hum.

Why wouldn't they stop talking about him? It had been two days, and they still hadn't dropped it. Every conversation about Tobias felt like a spotlight shining on her. Her heart pounded every time she heard his name, each mention a reminder of what could happen if the video got posted.

---

She glanced toward the main hallway, where Tobias, Zik, and Aiden were standing together. They looked… normal. Laughing, chatting like nothing had happened. Tobias didn't even seem to care about the gossip swirling around him.

Her stomach twisted again.

Every time someone insulted him, every cruel joke or snide comment, she thought about the arcade. She thought about the glittery dress, the tiara, the singing, the dancing. About the video.

She hadn't been able to sleep the night before, imagining what people would say about her if it got out. She'd be finished. Her social life, her reputation—gone in an instant.

And the worst part? She couldn't do anything about it.

She came from nothing. No money, no influence. She couldn't bribe them, couldn't beg them, couldn't even bargain for her dignity. All she could do was hope. Hope that they wouldn't post it. Hope that Aiden would forget.

But what if he didn't? What if they were just waiting?

---

Her throat tightened as she overheard another group near the vending machines.

"Did you hear what he said to her yesterday?"

"Yeah, told her she didn't have the privilege to talk to them. Can you believe the nerve?"

She wanted to scream. Every time someone brought him up, she wanted to yell at them to shut up. Not because she cared about Tobias—she didn't—but because every mention of him felt like it was dragging her closer to her own doom.

Please shut up, she thought, her heart pounding. Please, just stop talking about him.

But the conversations kept swirling around her, relentless and unending. And with each passing second, the fear clawed deeper into her chest.

What if they did post it? What if they were just waiting for the perfect moment?

She glanced toward Tobias again. He was smiling, laughing with Zik and Aiden. How could he act so normal? How could he shrug off the whispers, the stares, the cruel jokes?

He doesn't care, she realized, the thought hitting her like a brick. He's not scared. But I am.

And that was what terrified her the most. Tobias could brush off the gossip because he didn't let it define him. But she? She wasn't strong enough for that. If people turned on her, she'd crumble.

She tightened her grip on her bag, swallowing hard as another group of students burst into laughter nearby. For the first time, she wished she could just disappear.

As the day dragged on, the girl couldn't escape the whispers, the stares, the low laughter that lingered in every corner of the school. They weren't aimed at her—not yet—but they felt closer and closer with every passing hour. Every joke about Tobias, every cruel remark about his appearance or his abilities, hit her like a warning bell.

She sat by herself at lunch, staring blankly at her tray. Her appetite was gone. All she could think about was the way people treated Tobias, how relentless they were, how easily they ganged up on him without a second thought.

And it wasn't just a few people. It was everyone. The loud ones, the quiet ones, even the ones who stayed on the sidelines and didn't say anything. They were all complicit, feeding the storm in their own way.

The thought made her stomach churn.

They're not bad people, she thought, resting her chin on her hand. She knew these kids. Some of them were her friends, her classmates, the people she chatted with during breaks. They weren't evil. They weren't villains.

But they were cruel.

They laughed at Tobias because it was easy, because it made them feel better about themselves. They didn't stop to think about what it was doing to him.

She frowned, poking at her food with her fork. They don't even realize what they're doing.

---

Her mind drifted to a conversation she'd overheard earlier that morning. A girl in her history class had been talking about Tobias, spinning some ridiculous story about how mutation abilities made people inherently dangerous.

"It's not their fault," the girl had said, shrugging like she was being compassionate. "But you can't blame people for being scared of them. It's just… biology or whatever. We're not supposed to trust people like that."

The group around her had nodded, murmuring agreement.

What kind of nonsense is that? she thought now, stabbing at her salad. They didn't know Tobias. They didn't know anything about him except that he looked different, and yet they'd already decided what he was.

And for what? To make themselves feel better?

She leaned back in her chair, sighing. It wasn't just about Tobias, she realized. The gossip, the cruelty, the way people latched onto someone else's misfortune—it was everywhere.

It wasn't enough for people to feel good about themselves. They had to prove they were good, and the easiest way to do that was by pointing fingers, by creating villains where there were none.

---

The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. That's what I was doing.

Her mind flashed back to yesterday, to the courtyard, to the way she'd spoken to Tobias. She'd started it. She'd been the first one to call him out, to paint him as the "monster" that everyone else rallied against.

And why? Because he'd been happy.

That was the truth, wasn't it? Tobias had been laughing, joking with his friends, and it had irritated her. Not because he was doing anything wrong, but because he was happy in a way she hadn't been in a long time.

She covered her face with her hands, a wave of shame washing over her.

I'm no better than the rest of them.

---

She couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. The way people picked at Tobias, the way she'd joined in, the way it all spiraled so easily into cruelty. And the worst part? None of it was necessary.

Tobias hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't dangerous. He wasn't a threat. He was just… a kid. A kid who looked different, who was a little quieter, a little stronger, a little braver than most.

And instead of seeing that, people made him a target.

She sighed, leaning against her locker as the final bell rang. Maybe it was just human nature, she thought bitterly. People liked to think they were good, that they were on the "right side." But to do that, they needed someone to be the bad guy.

And if there wasn't a real bad guy, they'd make one.

---

As she walked home that evening, her thoughts wouldn't stop swirling. The kids at school weren't bad people. She wasn't a bad person.

But maybe that was the problem.

Being "not bad" wasn't the same as being good. It wasn't enough to avoid doing harm—you had to actively choose to do better, to be better.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she'd failed that test.

For now, all she could do was hope—hope that she hadn't done irreparable damage, hope that she could make things right somehow. But most of all, she hoped that the three boys who'd seen her lowest moment wouldn't stoop to her level.

She wasn't sure she deserved their mercy. But maybe, just maybe, she'd learn something from it.