Author's Note:
I forgot to mention this earlier, but we reached 100 Power Stones last week!
Amazing! Thank you so much for your support. It means so much to me and motivates me to keep writing.
pa treon.com/novelwisp
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"Alright, this will be your workstation," said Power Loader, pointing at a workbench right next to another one that was already occupied. "It's next to Hatsume's. Sorry about that—it belonged to another student, but he insisted on moving to a different lab. And since you're not officially in the Support Course, you're a special case, so you'll have to share. Mei's okay with it."
"Of course I am!" Mei chimed in, flashing a wide grin as she adjusted her protective goggles. "It'll be like having an assistant! Maybe we'll even make a bunch of babies together!"
A bead of sweat ran down my forehead. I glanced at Power Loader, who also looked mildly uncomfortable—but neither of us said anything. We both knew what she meant… probably.
"I'm fine with that," I replied, doing my best to stay composed.
"Anyway… I hope everything's clear," Power Loader said, shaking his head slightly before turning toward the door. "I've got a meeting with the faculty. Just make sure nothing explodes while I'm gone. Actually, better yet—don't blow up anything at all."
"No promises!" Mei called out cheerfully, raising her hand.
"I do promise," I said at the same time.
Power Loader gave me one last look—his expression neutral, but with a subtle mix of trust and resignation behind his eyes.
Then he left the lab.
I watched him go, thinking about what he'd told me earlier. I'd be allowed to use the workshop every day after classes, with an hour to spare before curfew. From what I'd seen, Mei was the only one who usually stayed late… which meant we'd be running into each other a lot from now on.
I sighed, already imagining the kind of chaos that might come from that.
I dropped off my backpack and headed to the locker room to change out of my school uniform and into workout clothes. When I returned to the workshop, I saw Mei.
She was sitting on her stool, one leg crossed over the other, spinning a small motor suspended by a wire-and-metal frame. She was mumbling to herself, brow furrowed, her eyes glowing behind her goggles.
No doubt—she was in her element.
I walked over to my workbench and pulled out the blueprints I'd been developing.The USJ incident was coming. Fast.
I bit my lip.
If things followed the original canon, there wasn't too much to worry about. No one would die, and All Might would arrive in time.But I had already decided from the beginning—I wasn't going to rely on the original story.
That's why I entered U.A. That's why I worked so hard to get this far.
What guarantee did I have that everything would play out exactly the same?
I could've convinced my parents to let me study abroad and avoided Japan's future mess entirely…But what if Shigaraki won? Not even leaving the country would save me for long.
If Japan fell, the rest of the world would follow.
I shook my head and forced myself to focus.
Back to the USJ. I knew I didn't need to be on the front lines.
The priority was making sure All Might arrived as soon as possible.
In the anime, the villains jammed communications from inside the dome. That's why backup took so long to get there.
If I could prevent that from happening, I could completely change how the fight went down.
I knew radio interference worked by emitting noise across certain frequencies, making signals useless. It was a common technique. The villains had used it at USJ to cut off communication between the training site and the main campus.
So... what could I do to counter that?
I'd been thinking it over for days. The first thing that came to mind was narrowband frequencies. These were a type of electromagnetic wave, just like regular radio waves, but they operated on a very specific, fixed frequency—much harder to disrupt.
Devices like walkie-talkies used that kind of system. Simple, direct… and most importantly, they didn't need satellites.
That was my best option.
Technically, it was still a radio signal, but since it worked on such a narrow frequency range, standard jammers didn't always catch it. If the villain's Quirk only blocked a certain slice of the spectrum… it could work.
Now, if the interference was adaptive—scanning across multiple bands automatically—then I'd be in trouble.
In that case, I'd have to fall back on Plan B: buy enough time for Iida to escape and alert the others.
Just like in the series. But this time, I wanted to give him a better chance to succeed.
I checked the time on my phone.
The clock was ticking.
I took a deep breath, looked at my blueprints, and nodded to myself.
Alright.No time to waste.
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"But Power Loader-sensei, I still need to make a few adjustments to my baby!" Mei shouted as she was being dragged out of the workshop by Power Loader himself.
I walked alongside them, already back in my school uniform.
"You know the rules, Hatsume," Power Loader replied, his tone firm but clearly tired—like someone who'd had this exact conversation way too many times.
The whole scene was pretty funny to me. Watching Mei kicking her feet while the teacher dragged her out like a stubborn child had a kind of unintentional comedy to it. Of course, Power Loader didn't seem to share my sense of humor.
Once we reached the main entrance of U.A., Mei looked resigned.
Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take any equipment home without special permission—and getting that kind of approval was no easy task. So her project would have to wait.
We both started walking toward the school gates, and since I didn't have anywhere else to be, I decided to start a conversation.
"So… what were you working on this time?" I asked curiously.
"Oh! A new stabilization system for one of my jump platforms! I was just tweaking the piston pressure when we got interrupted. I could've gotten two more meters of height without losing balance!" she answered, full of energy.
As usual, she talked about her inventions like they were her children, treating them almost like living things. Still, what she said was genuinely interesting, so I started asking technical questions and tossing around a few of my own ideas.
Mei looked surprised—not just that I was listening, but that I actually understood most of what she was saying.
Her face lit up.
"I knew you'd make a great assistant!" she exclaimed, giving me a solid slap on the back.
I chuckled, amused.
"Thanks, I guess… though I don't remember signing any kind of assistant contract."
"Too late! You're already locked in," she said, sticking out her tongue playfully.
We kept talking the whole way, exchanging ideas and mentally sketching out improvements.
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I was in my room, sitting at my work desk.
I had disassembled the projector I used during the fight at Ground Beta. As I'd mentioned before, it was only a prototype—still far from matching the kind of advanced projection tech Mysterio used.
To build it, I repurposed the projector that the U.A. had given us as part of the welcome package upon admission. What fascinated me most about that device was its ability to project floating images without the need for a solid surface, similar to a volumetric projection suspended in the air. Its technology was based on a system of digital micromirrors (DMDs) and focal lenses that manipulated light to create images suspended in a haze of ionized particles.
I planned to upgrade it later in the Support Course's workshop, but since this was a personal project, I wanted to keep developing it on my own first. I'd probably rebuild it with better components eventually, but for now, I just wanted to test its current limits.
After making a few precise adjustments—tweaking the angular dispersion settings and recalibrating the brightness controls—I set it on the floor and turned it on.
A three-dimensional projection of myself appeared in front of me.
I crossed my arms and studied it carefully. At first glance, it worked… but it wasn't convincing.
The image still looked clearly two-dimensional in a lot of ways. It didn't cast any shadows on itself or the room, and it gave off a slight unnatural glow that totally gave away its artificial nature. Plus, the lighting on the projection didn't adjust to match the room's ambient light, which completely broke the illusion of physical presence.
I sighed.
"Yeah… still a long way to go."
If I remember correctly, Quentin Beck—Mysterio, from the comics—was a master of special effects, capable of creating illusions that fooled even experienced heroes. His tech combined advanced holograms, surround sound, motion sensors, and dynamic lighting systems.
Maybe that's the key: I'll have to implement something like that.
I'd need to integrate a real-time shadow projection system—something that calculates ambient light direction and creates simulated shadows with auxiliary projectors. I'd also have to improve the beam's volumetric dispersion to eliminate that unnatural glow. Maybe a matrix of structured light projectors, paired with a LIDAR system to scan the environment and adjust the image dynamically...
And if I really want to match Mysterio's level, it won't be enough to improve just the visuals. I'll need to add directional sound, maybe using parametric speakers, so the hologram's voice actually sounds like it's coming from where the image is.
All of that would be way easier with full access to the workshop. But for now… I'll keep refining it here.
I powered down the projector and started taking notes.
And as I wrote, only one thought ran through my mind:
I need to finish this before the day of the USJ.