Jason stood at the gates of U.A. High School, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. Around him, a sea of hopeful teens buzzed with nerves, determination, and just enough overconfidence to make him smirk. Momo had offered to pull strings, but he refused—if he was getting into the top hero school, it was going to be through the front door, on his own terms.
No fanfare. No favors. Just him.
As he walked in, a few heads turned. His lazy grin, uncombed black hair, and casual outfit didn't scream "future hero." But that's how Jason liked it.
Phase One: Written Exam
Boring. Tedious. Predictable. Jason skimmed the questions with half interest, scribbled answers with a dull pencil, and even took a nap in the middle. When the clock ticked down to five minutes, he jolted awake, reread everything, and smirked.
Easy.
Phase Two: Practical Exam – Robot Combat Arena
Present Mic's voice boomed over the speakers, hyping the crowd. Jason stretched, standing at the start line. "Alright, kids! Destroy as many robots as you can in ten minutes. Go beyond! PLUS ULTRA!"
The gates opened.
Everyone bolted.
Jason didn't.
He walked calmly, scanning the battlefield. Giant mechanical beasts roared into the plaza. Most students panicked or charged headfirst. Jason didn't bother to transform—yet. He just slipped into a side alley.
Two robots spotted him.
In an instant, his arms morphed into serrated shadow-blades. He sprinted forward, dodging a blast, and cleaved through their core sensors with surgical precision. They fell without a sound.
No flash. No wasted energy.
Then came the real show.
Jason split, a perfect clone peeling off his back. It darted ahead and drew attention while Jason circled behind the bigger robots. He shifted into a smaller, high-speed form, low to the ground, too fast to hit. Every robot he touched went down in seconds—blades through joints, strikes to key gears, disabling without overkill.
He didn't go for style points.
He went for weak points.
In five minutes, he had already racked up a high score without even breaking a sweat. His clone exploded mid-run—overloaded—and took three smaller bots with it.
Jason smirked. "That's new."
Zero Pointer.
A deafening rumble shook the arena as the enormous machine crawled into view. Most fled. Jason didn't.
But he didn't rush it, either.
He looked around, spotting a girl trapped under rubble. A moment of hesitation flickered—then he moved. Not to fight the robot, but to morph his arms into reinforced support braces, lifting the rubble and pulling her free.
"You good?"
She nodded, wide-eyed. He carried her out of the danger zone.
By the time the zero pointer passed, Jason had already exited the zone, safe, with a high score and zero injuries.
When the exam ended, he sat on a bench outside, biting into an energy bar.
"Done already?" asked a familiar voice.
Momo stood nearby, arms folded, wearing a knowing smile.
"Let's just say they'll remember me."