Mirko grinned at the group of kids in front of her, flashing a wild, almost playful smile.
"Well done. Well gone," she said, cracking her knuckles. "Let's see if you can keep up."
Without another word, she launched herself straight at them. More kids were arriving on the scene, but she ignored them completely.
None looked ready to challenge her directly—they were focused on dealing with the side skirmishes. And in Mirko's eyes, if someone backed away from a real fight during a test like this, they weren't worth her attention. Harsh? Maybe. But she wasn't here to coddle anyone. The upper ranks of hero work had no room for hesitation.
The six who stood before her, though—now they had something. Something she liked. Grit. Fire. Determination.
'I could get used to having my senses messed up like this,' she thought with a toothy smirk as she adjusted mid-stride. From their movements, she could already tell who was responsible—"Blondie," the one causing her sense of direction to spiral.
'Whatever that quirk is, it's strong. Any average villain would be toast in seconds. But that one—her body can't keep up. Not built for brawls. Bet she's not used to extended combat without relying on her powers.'
To Mirko, the strategy was simple: bypass the others and take out the weak link first. That would crack their formation. Once the blonde was down, the rest would fall in line. With zero hesitation, she poured power into her legs, muscles tightening like coiled steel, and rocketed forward—straight for Revery.
The ground behind her erupted, leaving a crater in her wake. Dirt and shattered stone flew into the air as she broke through the space between them in a heartbeat. In a blink, she was right beside the girl, perfectly timing her strike. She wasn't going all out—just enough force to send the girl flying and take her out of the equation.
But just as her fist neared its target, something slammed into her from the side.
A gleaming white tail collided with her arm.
Mewtwo.
He had stepped in with Iron Tail, intercepting her attack at the last second. The impact echoed like a shockwave. Mirko's blow was stopped—but not entirely. The force of Mewtwo's strike gave her exactly what she needed. Using the counterforce, she spun mid-air and redirected the energy into a precise, brutal kick aimed straight at Revery's face.
The girl barely had time to register what was happening.
The kick landed hard, sending Revery crashing to the side. She hit the ground and rolled, blood trickling from her forehead. But she wasn't unconscious. Not yet.
She had managed to block just enough of the blow to stay in the fight, though it took everything she had. Her vision swam. The world around her narrowed into a dim tunnel with light at the edges. Her body screamed at her to give in, to shut down—but her will refused.
She wouldn't let it end like that.
Summoning every last ounce of focus, Revery stood again—shaky, but upright—and reactivated her quirk. Instantly, the five others around her lost all sense of direction. Their balance, movement, and orientation faltered, disabling any support they could have offered.
Nejire moved the best out of them all, trying to push through the disorienting effects. But even she couldn't adapt fast enough. Her attacks faltered. She wasn't experienced enough to handle this level of confusion and still keep up with someone like Mirko.
And now, Mirko was on the move again, ignoring all the effects of Revery Quirk.
Revery knew she was about to pass out—but she didn't care. Her plan was simple. She had always been the physically weakest among them, and since the island test, she'd been trying to close that gap. But it hadn't been easy.
Her Quirk didn't put much strain on her body, at least the one she used the most. She hadn't developed the same stamina or strength as the others.
She'd relied mostly on strategy, disrupting her enemies' senses and leaving the heavy hits to others. That approach had worked—until she was defeated a month ago.
Now, pushing herself to the brink, she charged straight at Mirko.
The pro hero could see her coming. Mirko wasn't just fast and strong—she was a combat genius. Even with her senses scrambled, she could read Revery's movements. The first strike was light and clumsy. The second had a bit more force. But by the sixth, something had changed. The girl's blow landed with enough power to sting—Mirko actually felt pain shoot through her arm.
She narrowed her eyes. That one was definitely above normal human strength. But then, just as quickly, the pressure lifted. Revery's body froze in place—her strength had run dry.
And she fainted.
Mirko moved instinctively to catch her before she hit the ground, not out of compassion but because she didn't want the kid to injure herself unnecessarily. But before she could grab her, Revery's limp body was swept away—straight into Mewtwo's waiting arms.
That's when Mirko's instincts screamed.
Danger.
A blur appeared behind her—the blond boy. She spun around to block his attack with her arm, bracing herself for impact.
But it never came.
The blow phased through her block like mist, bypassing her defense entirely and heading straight for her head. At the last second, she tilted her head just enough to avoid a direct hit. Still, the shock didn't stop there.
The boy didn't let up.
Strike after strike came at her—each one phasing just enough to bypass her guard. She had no time to counter, no time to breathe. Her own punches and kicks seemed to pass through him, doing nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.
And then two more joined the fray.
The tentacle kid came in from the side, his tendrils morphing into blades and claws. She had to divert her focus, blocking and weaving between strikes. At the same time, the reindeer-looking boy—his presence intimidating in a quiet, eerie way—joined the attack. He was fast, heavy, and coordinated.
Now it was three on one.
Mirko was forced into a defensive dance—dodging, deflecting, trying to retaliate but never quite landing a hit. To her surprise, they weren't going down easily. For students, they were durable. Sharp. Focused. They weren't the usual rookies she was used to testing.
And then everything shifted again.
The three kids suddenly backed off.
Mirko didn't even have time to wonder why before a spiraling wave of yellow energy tore toward her like a drill made of light. She crouched, ready to leap away—but then her limbs refused to move.
The weights embedded in her uniform to slow her down in this test against students—standard issue from the Hero Bureau—suddenly felt ten times heavier. Her boots sank into the cracked ground beneath her. She was rooted in place.
Then she looked up—and saw him.
Mewtwo.
His feline eyes blazed like twin headlights, his entire body crackling with psychic energy. The power he was releasing wasn't casual—it was focused.
He was giving everything he had to bring her down.
With no other choice, she braced herself and took the full brunt of the attack. The spiraling energy carved a crater around her, the heat searing her skin, the sheer weight of the pressure nearly grinding her into the ground.
But despite the pain—despite how anyone else might have reacted—she smiled.
No, she grinned.
Wide and wild.
She was loving this.
Her muscles strained, and with a roar, she pushed herself up. Her arms trembled under the force, but she didn't stop. With sheer brute strength, she punched through the energy wave, dispersing it with a shockwave that cracked the air like a thunderclap.
But the moment the wave shattered, a new threat appeared.
A black sphere, nearly the size of a beach ball, hurtled toward her at high speed. Without hesitation, she twisted her body and launched a kick, intercepting it mid-air. The ball detonated on impact. The blast tore through the metal brace on her suit, ripping into her leg. Pain flared, blood welled, but she stayed upright.
That wasn't enough to stop her.
Fueled by adrenaline, she lunged toward the two responsible—Mewtwo and Nejire. She closed the distance fast. They might have been strong at range, but they shouldn't have been on par with the ones fighting her up close. At least, that was the assumption.
But assumptions didn't mean much anymore.
They didn't backed of.
Both of them retaliated with devastating kicks—Mewtwo's powered by raw psychic force, Nejire's amplified by spiraling energy. Their counter landed clean, crashing into her mid-air with the same force she'd thrown at them. The impact sent her tumbling backward, crashing hard into the ground.
Still, even with that combined assault, their legs were shaking. Both Nejire and Mewtwo felt it—the dull ache, the numbness from the impact. Mirko's strikes hit like freight trains. It didn't matter how powerful they were. If she landed clean, you felt it.
As she hit the ground, another figure appeared beside her in a blur—Suneater.
From his hand, ten massive tentacles burst forth, morphing mid-air. Sea shells, muscle mass, and chitin fused together into a monstrous hammer, more like a wrecking ball than a weapon. He raised it high.
"ELTHOR!" the gloomy teen bellowed.
The hammer slammed down.
The impact rattled the floor, driving Mirko into the ground with bone-jarring force. Dust exploded outward, covering the area in a gray haze. She groaned, body aching from the hit, but it still wasn't enough to put her down.
She was a pro hero—one of the best—and she didn't fall that easily.
Before the dust settled, she was already preparing to spring up again. But something latched onto her ankle—tight and fast. Then, a blow struck her behind the knee, forcing it to buckle. She dropped, and just as she tried to recover, the familiar pull of psychic force surged across her body.
Her suit and weighted gear dragged her down again, now feeling three times heavier.
She gritted her teeth.
Before she could move, before she could counter again, the ground shifted.
Bones.
Long, curved bones erupted from the floor, encasing her. They grew layer by layer, wrapping around her like a cage. A dome of ivory formed around her—thick, reinforced, unyielding. She tried to push through, but it was too late.
By the time the fourth layer locked into place, she was sealed in.
A prison of bone, strength, and strategy. Designed not to defeat her—
—but to contain her.
At the same time, Suneater moved swiftly, his massive tentacles sprouting from his arms, lifting and dragging boulders from around the battlefield. With precise, practiced motions, he stacked them against the dome of bones to reinforce the structure. At the same time, Mewtwo used his telekinesis to shift large slabs of rock, layering them around the dome to make escape nearly impossible.
While the two worked to fortify the prison, Nejire-chan hovered nearby, energy swirling around her hands. Her body glowed faintly as she charged her power, staying ready in case the unthinkable happened. Because even now, they all knew—the pro hero inside wasn't just any opponent.
She was Mirko.
And if anyone could break out, it was her.
Inside the dome, Mirko had stopped moving. She crouched low, her breathing steady as she surveyed the interior of her confinement. Dust and the faint scent of bone filled the air. She flexed her limbs, feeling the bruises, the strain. Her leg still throbbed from the earlier explosion.
"I only managed to take down one… and that was because I caught them off guard. If I hadn't landed that first hit, they could've boxed me in even sooner."
Her grin widened, wild and full of excitement.
"Impressive. This kind of coordination—it's not normal for students. This is something else... This is awesome." She clenched her fists. "But they forgot one thing—"
Her eyes dropped to the ground, her grin sharper now.
"—I'm a rabbit."
Outside the dome, the team regrouped, their breathing heavy but controlled. Mewtwo stood at the center, projecting his thoughts to the others through their mental link.
"In my opinion, this was a successful operation. We actually managed to coordinate our attacks. The mental link made a big difference."
But before anyone could respond, a blur cut through the tension.
Wendigo was suddenly hit—hard—an upward strike to the jaw sending him flying. Shock registered on every face. Eyes widened. It didn't make sense.
The dome hadn't broken.
But then they saw it—the hole in the ground.
She'd dug her way out.
She hadn't blasted through the dome. She'd gone under it, carved a tunnel from beneath, and burst out with a surprise attack—hitting one of their toughest fighters first.
"She's out!" someone shouted.
Mewtwo immediately took control.
"Everyone! All out, right now! We need to hold her back. Just a few more minutes—hold her!"
He didn't pause.
'Mirio, from behind—keep her moving. Don't let her land a clean hit. I'll support you.'
'Nejire, be ready. Use your energy waves to pin her down like you did with Aizawa.'
'Tamaki, we need cover. Use your tentacles. Focus on blunt attacks. She's hiding it, but she is injured.'
At Mewtwo's words, the core four of Class 1-A didn't hesitate. Their bodies moved instinctively, their training and trust taking over.
They knew exactly who they were up against.