I stood before the mirror, a towel wrapped snugly around my waist, my reflection staring back at me.
Hmmm.
My hair had grown quite a bit I've come to this world. It framed my face better now, less wild, more… intentional. Maybe I should keep growing it out, let it flow back into a middle part. Something cool.
Flexing slightly, I took stock of my progress. My muscles were more defined than before, my face sharper, shedding the last traces of softness thanks to my relentless morning runs. If I kept this up, I might start looking like a model. Not that it mattered much. Strength was what I really needed. I should definitely improve my training.
The most important thing though was that I had definitely grown taller.
Just as I was admiring my progress—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Hey, hurry the fuck up! I got places to be!" My sister's voice rang from outside the door, angry and impatient.
A vein twitched on my forehead. With an annoyed sigh, I reached for my boxers and shorts putting them on before swinging the door open. There she stood, arms crossed, foot tapping, looking every bit as irritated as I felt.
"What do you even do in there that takes you so long?" she demanded, brushing past me without waiting for an answer.
I opened my mouth. "Well, for your info—"
SLAM.
The bathroom door shut in my face.
This little fucking bitch.
I exhaled, shaking my head in resignation before heading back to my room to get dressed. Today was Saturday, I had business at U.A. The best part about this school was the access it gave students to its facilities, even on weekends. And I intended to take full advantage of that.
Me and Mei had plans to spend today and tomorrow working on my suit, she predicts we'll be done if we spent our time wisely and productively.
Downstairs, my parents were lounging on the couch, caught up in whatever nonsense adults talked about in their free time. As I passed by, my mother glanced up with a warm smile.
"Have fun, honey."
They already knew where I was going, having shared my plans yesterday during our nightly family dinners.
My dad, on the other hand, smirked. "Your suit better be badass."
He had no idea.
"Just wait," I said, stepping out the door.
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"Phew, looks like my babies are finally complete," Mei exhaled, pulling off her headgear with a satisfied sigh. We both stared at the bow laid across the worktable, our eyes reflecting the same awe. A slow, proud smile spread across her face.
"Best invention yet," she declared, her voice brimming with satisfaction.
My gaze lingered on the masterpiece before me—a weapon of sheer precision and power. The bow's sleek black alloy absorbed the light, and its sharp edges and seamless joints are a testament to flawless engineering.
The high-tension cables stretched taut from end to end, humming faintly, as if alive, waiting to be drawn. The riser, embedded with intricate engravings and pulsing with dormant energy, hinted at the hidden tech within. It wasn't just a bow. It was now a part of me, a limb per se.
Beside it, the quiver rested in silent perfection.
I picked it up, slinging it onto my back. Instantly, it adjusted to my movements, molding itself to my form. A sleek black body lined with glowing violet veins pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. More than a container, it was an extension of my body. With a flick of my wrist, the quiver responded, cycling through arrows in an instant, presenting exactly what I needed before I even reached for one.
A faint holographic display shimmered along its side, listing the number and type of arrows within. Hidden stabilizers kept each arrow locked in place, ensuring they were battle-ready at all times. It was designed to understand the flow of combat.
Then, I noticed something.
"Don't tell me…" I muttered, my eyes flicking to Mei.
Her grin told me everything.
"Silence," I whispered.
At once, the quiver's glow faded, its vibrant presence vanishing as its colors darkened. It became a ghost on my back.
I barely had time to process the perfection of it all before my gaze locked onto the three-section staff resting beside it. Compact, yet deadly. Unlike traditional designs, this one was built for speed, adaptability, and ruthless efficiency. Each segment, forged from high-density yet lightweight alloy, was shorter than standard staffs, allowing for tighter, more controlled movements.
Its sleek black finish shimmered under the workshop lights, violet accents pulsing like veins of pure energy. The segments connected seamlessly, held together by a high-tech magnetic system reinforced with nano-fiber cords. With a flick of my wrist, it could shift between rigid strikes and fluid, whip-like attacks, adapting to my intent with uncanny responsiveness.
And then, there were the shurikens.
Laid out before me, they were a marvel of design—sleek, aerodynamic, and terrifyingly precise. Their black metal frames, traced with glowing violet circuits, pulsed faintly as if waiting to be unleashed. Unlike traditional throwing stars, these were crafted from an indestructible alloy, built for both speed and silent lethality.
I exhaled, shaking my head in disbelief.
"You are incredible, Mei."
She leaned back against the table with a satisfied grin, arms crossed, basking in the praise.
"I know."
My thoughts went into my costume, which was ready. More than ready, I would say.
Tomorrow was the U.S.J. incident, and I wasn't going to let anyone get hurt.
I glanced at the weapons laid out before me, each piece a testament to Mei's sheer ingenuity. The precision, the craftsmanship, the almost unreal level of detail… It was staggering. No matter how many times I looked at them, I couldn't believe she had done all this in such a short time.
Meeting her gaze, I finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at me.
"How did you manage to do all this so fast?" Curiosity laced my words.
Mei's ever-excited expression faltered, her grin dimming just slightly.
"Have you ever wondered what happens to the support gear of deceased heroes?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "Or the gear that heroes abandon? The ones that got people killed?"
I had no response.
The realization settled like a weight in my chest. Of course. She hadn't just built these from scratch. She had salvaged them and given them a new purpose.
Figures.
Most of this gear had already seen battle. Already held stories.
Stepping forward, I stopped just inches away from her, bowing my head slightly. A genuine smile of gratitude tugged at my lips.
"Thank you," I said.
I didn't need to see her face to know she was smiling. I could hear it in her voice.
"Anytime," she said softly. "That's what partners are for."
[-----]
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"Wow, I can't believe we're going on a field trip already!" Mina exclaimed, her voice practically glowing with excitement as she threw her hands in the air. Her infectious energy rippled through Class 1-A, drawing out grins and laughter from the rest of the students as they approached the two buses parked in front of U.A. High.
"Yeah, this school is amazing!" Kirishima chimed in, flashing a wide, toothy grin that only amplified the buzz in the air.
Their chatter filled the crisp morning air—eager, youthful, and full of wonder—until the ever-tired eyes of Aizawa silenced it with his arrival. He stepped before the group, stopping just short of the buses. Before he could speak, Uraraka raised her hand.
"Mr. Aizawa, why are there two buses?" she asked curiously.
Aizawa's lips tugged into a barely noticeable smile. "Because of them," he said, tilting his head toward a group approaching in the distance.
Class 1-A turned as one, eyes wide as another group came into view. Led by Vlad King, their teacher, Class 1-B walked in silence, their serious expressions contrasting the buzz of 1-A. But it wasn't just the class that caught their attention. It was the two figures that followed closely behind Vlad.
One was a male who moved like a shadow given form. He wore a hooded cloak of soft gray, streaked with sharp, glowing lines of violet, the edges fluttering like whispered promises of power. Beneath the hood, silver hair cascaded over a mask of deep black and purple, hiding everything but his intense, hawk-like eyes. He radiated class and recklessness—every inch of him was calculated, composed.
His costume was sleek, tailored for mobility and precision. A fitted violet-and-black chest plate hugged his frame, segmented and reinforced to offer protection without sacrificing speed. Strapped across his back was a custom quiver that glowed faintly with energy veins, matching the polished high-tech bow it carried. His pants were tactical yet flexible, and at his waist rested a folded three-section staff—its presence subtle, yet undeniably deadly.
Beside him walked a girl whose presence was no less striking. Waves of fiery orange hair danced around her shoulders, catching the morning light like molten gold. Her piercing teal eyes shone with quiet intensity. She wore a form-fitting suit of glossy black and deep orange, the bold white letters "BF" emblazoned across her chest like a badge of pride. Her costume shimmered with a subtle energy that pulsed in time with her movements, almost as if the suit itself breathed with her.
White armor accents protected her limbs, built into the suit with a seamless design. Her utility belt was compact but armed with tools, and every component was chosen with purpose. She looked less like a student and more like a fully realized pro hero.
"Whoa..." Mina whispered, voicing the awe the rest of Class 1-A felt.
Aizawa's gaze narrowed, his attention drawn to the two newcomers. 'Interesting', he thought.
"Hello, Aizawa. I hope we aren't late," Vlad King called as he approached.
"Right on time," Aizawa replied, glancing at the second bus. "That one's for your class. Should we have them introduce themselves?"
"Good idea. Kendo, Shoda—come forward," Vlad instructed.
Without a word, two students from Class 1-B stepped up. A medium-height boy with a calm demeanor took the lead.
"Pleasure to meet you all," he said. "I am Nirengeki Shoda, and this is Itsuka Kendo."
Kendo gave a polite bow, smiling warmly.
"I'm the Class President of 1-B, and Kendo is our Vice President. We look forward to learning alongside you all and growing from this experience."
Shoda's words were respectful, but his confident tone suggested a competitive spark.
"Ah, thank you for your introduction." Iida stepped forward, arms moving robotically as he introduced himself. "I am Tenya Iida, Class President of 1-A, and this is Momo Yaoyorozu, our Vice President."
The two class presidents exchanged a firm handshake.
"Well then, we'll head to our bus. See you soon," Shoda said with a nod before turning on his heel.
Kendo followed after a respectful bow, leaving a quiet tension lingering between the classes.
"They were… intense," Kaminari muttered, his voice cutting through the tension. His wide eyes still lingered in the direction of Class 1-B.
"Tch, they're just showing off," Bakugou scoffed, fists casually clenched at his sides, sparks barely held back.
"That guy's suit was so sick though," Sero added, glancing over his shoulder toward the mysterious figure in the hood, now distant among the other students.
"Wait, wasn't he the one who calmed everyone down during the break-in the other day?" Ojiro asked, brows furrowed as recognition settled in.
"Yeah… that was him," Midoriya confirmed softly, his eyes narrowed and glowing faintly with something deeper—something he hadn't yet named.
Meanwhile, Class 1-B was having its own moment.
"Let's be clear," Shoda spoke, voice calm but commanding, "this is not a competition. We're here to learn. Got it, Monoma?"
"What the hell? Obviously, I know that!" Monoma shot back dramatically, flailing one hand. "Do I really look like someone who'd ruin a perfectly good learning opportunity because of inner jealousy?"
Dead silence.
"You guys are jerks," he muttered, crossing his arms. "I'm better than that."
Shoda sighed. "Right… anyway, to the bus."
As the group began moving, Shoda and Kendo fell into step beside each other.
"Hehehe…" Kendo giggled, eyes glowing with excitement.
Shoda raised a brow. "What's got you so giddy?"
"This costume is amazing! With your help and Mei's amazing abilities, I look like a total badass!" she exclaimed, striking a subtle pose with pride gleaming in her smile. Her teenage girl self was showing off.
Shoda smirked to himself. 'Giving her the Invisible Woman-inspired design was probably the best call I've made.' He thought to himself. She looked fierce, confident…cute. The way her armor hugged her form, outlined in shimmering tech, made her look like a heroine who'd already won her battle.
Once on the bus, the two sat together. The chatter of Class 1-B hummed around them, laughter and casual gossip floating in the air.
"But forget about me," Kendo said, nudging him lightly. "You look like some experienced underground pro. All that mysterious confidence? You were trying to show off back there, weren't you?"
"Whatever you say," Shoda mumbled, feigning indifference as he looked out the window, though a smirk betrayed his pride.
Their conversation flowed like that, playful and easy, until Shoda noticed her gaze drift. Her smile faltered, eyes growing distant.
"…Something wrong?" he asked, leaning in just enough for only her to hear.
"No! I mean… not really." She waved her hands, cheeks warming. "It's just… I have a weird feeling. Like something bad's gonna happen."
Shoda's eyes flickered. 'A premonition? She can feel the event coming up? She has good instincts.' Shoda smirked; she was someone that was going to be a good pro hero.
"I won't lie to you and say 'nothing will happen.' That always raises a flag," he said with a quiet chuckle. "But if something does go down... I'll be right there. We'll handle it—together."
Kendo turned to him, meeting his gaze. His pitch-black eyes held something calm and steady. A strange, grounding confidence that made her fear melt just a little.
"…Thank you," she whispered, a genuine smile finding its way back to her lips.
Without thinking, she scooted just a little closer.
And for that fleeting moment, even with the tension humming beneath the surface, everything felt just a little bit lighter.
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"It's the Space Hero—Thirteen!" Midoriya shouted, nearly bouncing on his feet as he rushed to the front of the class. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he scanned every inch of the massive training facility known as the USJ. The awe in his voice was infectious, sparking murmurs of recognition and wonder across both classes.
Class 1-A and 1-B walked together in a loose, mingling crowd. Some had already broken the ice—Tetsutetsu and Kirishima had quickly hit it off, fists pumping as they shared loud laughs about how "manly" their costumes were.
Meanwhile, their teachers—Aizawa and Vlad King—stood to the side in quiet conversation with Thirteen. Though their voices were too low to hear, their expressions were serious. After a moment, the three pros stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the students.
Thirteen stepped forward.
"Greetings, U.A. students," she began, her voice clear and gentle yet filled with gravity. "Many of you may already know who I am—but for those who don't, I am the Space Hero: Thirteen."
There was a respectful hush. Even the more energetic students quieted down, their gazes fixed on the pro before them.
"My Quirk is called 'Black Hole'. It allows me to suck in and disintegrate anything."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle in. The tone shifted—less about spectacle, more about purpose.
"But understand… that 'anything' includes people."
Most students' expressions hardened as some among them flinched at the image.
"I do not doubt that many of you possess powerful quirks—some capable of massive destruction, some that may seem uncontrollable at times. That power… can just as easily harm as it can help."
Thirteen's voice echoed through the vast structure, resonating deep in the hearts of the gathered students.
"In our superpowered society, quirks are monitored. Regulated. And though it may feel like a stable system, all it takes is one wrong move, one moment of carelessness, for someone to be hurt. Or worse… to die."
Nobody spoke. The room felt heavier, the words hitting closer than anyone had expected.
She turned her gaze first toward Class 1-A.
"You've already learned some of this," she continued. "Aizawa's fitness test showed you your potential, and All Might's battle training taught you the risks that your quirks pose to not only others but to yourselves."
Then she turned to Class 1-B, nodding respectfully.
"And Class 1-B—you've trained through the struggle, understanding the challenge of quirks. The difficulty of using them in real-time situations. But you've also seen how to turn weaknesses into weapons. Faults into strengths."
Her voice warmed slightly, though it still carried the weight of her point.
"Today, your training won't be about battle. Not entirely. It will be about something far greater—saving lives."
She extended her arms slightly, her presence like a lighthouse in the silence.
"Remember this: a hero is not someone who defeats villains. A hero is someone who helps people."
She bowed deeply, her posture poised and respectful.
"That is all. Thank you for listening."
Thunderous applause followed—not just from obligation but from admiration. The students clapped with wide eyes and thoughtful expressions, the lesson already settling into their hearts.
"Amazing speech as always, Thirteen. Now—" Aizawa began, stepping forward to address the students.
But he was cut off by Vlad King's sudden, urgent voice. "Aizawa! We've got a problem!" he shouted, panic breaking into his usual composure.
Before Aizawa could ask, space itself shimmered in front of the fountain that stood in the center of it all. A swirling ripple of purple and black tore through the air like a jagged scar in reality. Eyes widened in unison as villains began stepping through in organized clusters, each one exuding a menacing aura. Some grinned with sadistic excitement, others looked cold and serious.
The sudden appearance was so jarring that nobody noticed the white sensors lining the building's inner frame go dark—nobody except one.
"Villains!" Thirteen called out sharply, her voice cutting through the air. "Everyone, group together and don't move! Stay close!"
"Trespassers," Vlad King growled, fists clenched, eyes burning with rage. "They must've been the ones who infiltrated the school a few days ago. This was planned from the very beginning."
As the two teachers quickly exchanged hushed words, students from both classes began to panic. Hearts raced. Breath hitched. Fear crept into the edges of their expressions as they stared at the growing number of enemies.
"Miss Thirteen!" Yaoyorozu called out, stepping forward with urgency. "The sensors—are they still active? Has the main building been alerted?"
Before Thirteen could answer, someone moved with quiet determination through the gathering students—Shoda. His violet-lined cloak shifted with each step as he pulled the sleek, high-tech bow from his back, face unreadable.
"The sensors are off," he said plainly, tone calm but serious. "Everyone else was distracted by the villains' appearance… but I saw it. They were disabled via quirk use."
Thirteen's eyes widened briefly, but she didn't falter. "I see… Good work." she said with a firm nod. Then she turned quickly. "Eraser Head! The sensors are down—I'll try contacting the school manually!"
"Understood!" Aizawa responded, already in motion. "Kaminari! Use your quirk—try sending a signal for help. Overload the airwaves if you have to."
Kaminari nodded and braced himself, sparks beginning to flicker around him.
Todoroki stepped forward, eyes scanning the battlefield with practiced clarity. "Are the villains only here, or have they infiltrated the main campus as well?" he asked aloud, his voice cold and composed. "This facility is isolated, far from school grounds. The fact they came in such numbers… they had to know we were coming. This whole attack—it's coordinated."
Shoda narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening around his bow. 'Damn it… There are so many. More than I remember. They must've known Class 1-B was coming too.'
As if feeling his unease, Kendo stepped up beside him. Her expression held traces of fear, but she stood tall, a hand gently resting on his shoulder.
"We got this," she whispered, her voice steady despite everything.
Shoda paused, his tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He looked behind her… and saw it.
All of Class 1-B. Standing firm. Suited up. Weapons drawn. Ready.
Just as the first wave of villains began to pour through the swirling portal, Aizawa and Vlad King launched into motion like unleashed predators. Their movements were sharp, efficient, brutal—each strike calculated, every decision seamless. They cut through the disorganized enemy forces with ease, their battle experience on full display.
Aizawa's capture scarf danced in the air like a viper, ensnaring limbs and necks, disabling quirks before foes could even register his presence. Vlad King, in contrast, was a crimson juggernaut—his Blood Control quirk letting him overwhelm opponents with sheer force, pinning groups down like a living tide.
Meanwhile, back with the students, tension buzzed like electricity in the air. Hearts pounded. Minds raced. No one knew when the next threat would appear.
But Shoda did.
"Everyone!" Shoda's voice rang out, calm but commanding. He stood tall in the chaos, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield. "One of the villains teleported. That means he could reappear anywhere at any time."
He drew an arrow, nocking it swiftly.
"From what I saw, he doesn't have a physical body. If you have an emitter-type quirk, group up and prepare to counter. We need ranged suppression ready—now!"
His tone wasn't panicked. It was precise. Rational. The way a leader should sound. His words snapped Class 1-B—and even some of Class 1-A—into immediate focus.
"What are you all standing around for? We have to evacuate! That's our priority!" Iida called from nearby, urging his class forward toward the exit. His steps were quick, but there was structure in them, discipline in every word.
But before anyone could move another inch, the world shifted.
A dark fog curled into the space before them, twisting like a serpent through the air. The temperature dropped, the hairs on their arms rising with it.
Then he appeared.
The villain materialized from the black mist, drifting forward with a composure that sent chills down every spine. His head tilted slightly, as if mocking their fear.
"Greetings, students," he said with a voice that was all too calm. "We are the League of Villains. Forgive our sudden entrance, but you see—our goal today is far too important to—"
TWANG.
The words cut short.
An arrow sliced through the air like a lightning bolt, striking a metal plate affixed beneath the villain's eyes. A sound like warped metal rang out as the villain was knocked off balance and sent flying backward, his smoky form losing coherence for a moment as he stumbled back up, startled.
All heads turned.
Shoda stood several meters away, bow lowered, his expression unreadable but firm.
"Aim for the metal plate."
Bakugou and Kirishima were the first from Class 1-A to react.
"Don't tell me what to do, show-off!" Bakugou barked, the heat in his palms flaring as explosions crackled to life. Side by side, he and Kirishima launched themselves forward with terrifying precision, each attack aimed directly for the metal plate beneath the villain's eyes.
A brilliant burst of smoke and force exploded before them, dust swallowing the field.
For a moment, everyone held their breath.
But as the smoke settled, the villain was nowhere to be found.
"Where the hell did he go?!" Bakugou shouted, scanning the field. The tension snapped like a wire.
Suddenly, the very ground beneath Class 1-A and Thirteen warped, twisting into a sea of purple fog. Like the mouth of an abyss, the villain rose again, but this time from below, swallowing them whole in a second of pure horror.
"NO!" Todoroki's voice was sharp as ice, but he had been too far away—watching helplessly as his classmates vanished. For the first time, he had shown some emotion, but unfortunately, it wasn't for a good reason.
Just like that, they were gone.
The silence afterward was deafening.
"...Holy shit..." Kaibara whispered, his voice trembling, eyes wide with disbelief.
"A-a-are they dead?!" Pony cried, panic written all over her face, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Shoda clenched his jaw. His knuckles were white around his bow, his mind racing. He could feel the pressure settling on his shoulders like a weight threatening to crush him, but he could handle it. He had to.
"Fuck..." he whispered under his breath, but he quickly refocused. He looked at his classmates—all of them shaken, waiting, afraid—and exhaled slowly.
"First of all," he said, voice steady despite the storm inside him, "everyone, calm down. They're not dead."
Eyes turned to him—desperate for something to believe in.
"They were teleported—most likely scattered across the facility. This was coordinated, remember? This isn't random."
He turned sharply to two students. "Setsuna. Pony. You two are the fastest in our class. I need you to sprint back to U.A. and bring help. Don't stop for anything—GO!"
The sudden command snapped them into motion.
"You guys better not die!" Setsuna shouted over her shoulder with a wild grin, even as she ran. "I just started liking you guys!"
A few shaky laughs broke through the tension. Pony gave a quick nod before leaping into action beside her, their figures disappearing down the corridor like blurs.
The remaining students watched them go, they watched as the last connection to safety faded away. Then turned back to Shoda.
He stood tall, an arrow notched in his bow, eyes locked ahead with renewed focus.
"…Let's go help our teacher now," Shoda said, his voice calm but firm, the weight of leadership settling on him without hesitation. His sharp eyes scanned his classmates. "Remember—they're trying to kill us. Stay close. Move in groups. Watch each other's backs."
As he readied his bow again, his eyes drifted to Todoroki, who stood a few feet away, frozen in place. His expression was unreadable, his body tense but unmoving—like a statue of frost and hesitation.
"You coming with us?" Shoda asked casually, the corner of his mouth quirking into a crooked grin.
For a moment, Todoroki said nothing.
Then—crack.
The sound of ice expanding filled the silence as he turned and descended the stairs. Each step he took left behind a trail of shimmering frost, cold and clean.
Shoda watched, bow still raised. "…I'll take that as a yes."
He smirked—but the humor was brief. There was no room for anything else.
Not anymore.
Shoda turned to his class, bow lowered, his black eyes burning with focus. Behind him, Todoroki moved like a phantom of winter, ice trailing at his heels. The air crackled with pressure.
With enemy forces swarming, allies scattered, and the unknown stretching right before their eyes, Class 1-B stepped forward.
Today's lesson wasn't on teamwork or strategy.
Today's lesson wasn't about saving lives.
Today's lesson was;
Battle.