Author's Note:It's been a while since the last update, and you're probably wondering why. Well… I got a job. The problem is, it's pretty far from where I live, and by the time I get home, all I can do is sleep. Sundays are my only free days, so that's the only time I have to write a new chapter. I'm sorry if the quality isn't the same as before. Thank you, truly, for your support and patience.
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The inside of the USJ was even more imposing in person than it had been in the anime. A massive dome stretched over several artificial disaster zones: jagged mountains, rushing rivers, collapsed ruins, and metallic structures—each one designed to simulate real-life catastrophes.
"Welcome to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, the USJ," announced Thirteen. Their voice, muffled but steady behind the helmet, echoed through the enormous space. "Here, you will learn how to handle large-scale rescue emergencies."
While they explained, my eyes wandered across the scenery. Uraraka gazed around in awe, as if she had stepped into an amusement park. Kaminari couldn't stop throwing out excited comments, barely able to hold himself back.
I, however, couldn't relax.My chest felt heavier with each passing second.
"Never forget this," Thirteen continued, raising a gloved hand. "Our quirks can save lives… but they can also take them away. Use them responsibly, always."
The mood shifted instantly. The enthusiasm dissolved into a thick, uneasy tension. Many of my classmates looked shocked, as if it had never once crossed their minds that a single wrong move could end someone's life. That kind of naivety made me realize just how green they still were.
Thirteen went on, speaking about laws, regulations, and the heavy burden of having a don. But honestly, I barely listened. My attention was elsewhere.
I subtly shifted within the group, inching closer to Midoriya.I knew what was about to happen. And when Kurogiri appeared, everyone would be scattered. The chance of ending up near Izuku was slim. Even Iida and Uraraka, who had been close in the canon, were split apart. But maybe—just maybe—if I managed to grab him in that critical moment, I could drag myself along in the teleportation. Not essential to my plans, but definitely an advantage. If I failed… I'd have to improvise.
"Thank you for listening," Thirteen concluded with a graceful bow, almost like a magician after a show.
Applause erupted, cheers included.
"Alright, let's continue wi—" Aizawa started, but his words cut off abruptly.
The lights inside the dome flickered, and a heavy pressure swept through the air like an unseen wave. At the center of the plaza, a dark mist swirled and grew into a vortex.
Figures emerged from it.First, Shigaraki—his lanky frame and the grotesque hand covering his face. Then, the massive Nomu, its very presence enough to freeze the blood. And behind them, villain after villain poured out without end.
The students whispered, confused. Many thought it was still part of the simulation.
"Don't move! They're real villains!" Aizawa roared, pushing his goggles into place.
The cheerful atmosphere shattered like glass. Smiles vanished, leaving only fear and tension.
"The only heroes here are Eraserhead and Thirteen," Kurogiri's voice carried across the dome—calm, formal, almost polite. "How strange… the schedule said All Might would be accompanying you."
All eyes turned toward him and the swelling tide of villains. I, however, forced myself to stay calm. Or at least, I tried to.I pressed a discreet button on the side of my visor.
My metal backpack responded instantly, opening a hidden compartment.A faint hum filled the air as four small drones—each the size of a hand—lifted off. They rose smoothly, blending with the dome's structure until they were invisible to the naked eye.
"So… you're the ones behind the intrusion the other day," Aizawa muttered, voice low and edged, his eyes fixed forward.
The villains advanced, spreading like a dark tide.
Eraserhead analyzed the situation with surgical calm before speaking."Thirteen… contact the school. Make sure the students are evacuated."
I stayed silent.I didn't use the communicator on my visor. Not yet.
"Where is he?" Shigaraki growled, scratching at his neck with frantic intensity, as if the waiting itself was eating away at his skin. "I even went through the trouble of gathering this crowd. All Might… the symbol of peace. I can't believe he hasn't shown up."
His voice grew harsher, breaking into a screech full of frustration."I wonder if he'll come… once we start killing some of his students."
A chill ran down everyone's spine.
Aizawa didn't hesitate for a second. His scarf shot out like a steel whip as he descended the stairs with feline precision. His fighting style was pure lethal instinct: every stride, every spin, every villain collapsing to the ground reflected a technique honed to the edge of perfection. Watching him fight in person made any memory of the anime feel clumsy in comparison.
The villains, who at first had looked confident, began to fall back one by one under Eraserhead's relentless gaze.
"Incredible…!" Kaminari muttered, eyes wide.
But there was no time for amazement.
"Everyone, head for the exit immediately!" Thirteen ordered, pointing toward the hallway that led outside the dome.
We moved together as a group, not hesitating for a moment as we rushed down the stairs. I stayed right next to Midoriya, never leaving his side. My plan remained firm, and now every second counted.
We were just about to reach the entrance when a dark mist rose in front of us, blocking the way.
Kurogiri materialized from the fog with the grace of a butler and the presence of an executioner."I'm sorry, young ones," he said with grim politeness, his voice echoing like metallic thunder. "We cannot allow you to leave."
Bakugou reacted instantly."Like hell I'm gonna let a smoke bag trap me!" he roared, blasting an explosion straight at Kurogiri.
Kirishima followed, hardening his body and charging like a living battering ram.
It was useless. The mist opened, dispersed, and then sealed back together as if nothing had touched it.
"An admirable effort," Kurogiri remarked calmly, like someone praising a child for trying. "But pointless."
Suddenly, the darkness spread, swallowing all of us. My vision blurred, the air grew heavy, and my classmates' screams mixed with the unnatural hum of the portal.
It was the moment to act. I reached out and grabbed Midoriya's shoulder tightly.If my theory was right, that single touch would be enough to make sure we ended up in the same place.
But fate was cruel. The mist twisted violently, and Izuku's shoulder slipped from my fingers like sand.
The world spun. The next thing I knew, I was falling.
The wind howled in my ears as I plummeted. I immediately activated the Shocker gloves and fired a controlled blast toward the ground. The burst of compressed air slowed my fall just enough that the landing became nothing more than a jolt to my knee against the cracked earth.
The impact raised a cloud of dust. I coughed, brushing dirt off my shoulders as I stood up.
The environment was an arid wasteland, riddled with deep fissures and jagged rocks. A section of the USJ designed to mimic the aftermath of a devastating earthquake.
"Are you alright, Tachibana?" a female voice asked behind me, filled with concern.
I spun around instantly. There stood Momo Yaoyorozu, as elegant as ever despite the tension, and Kyoka Jirou, her jacks ready for anything.
"Yeah… more or less," I replied, rubbing my knee. "Could've been worse."
Momo let out a soft sigh, though her eyes never left the terrain. The ground trembled beneath our feet and a metallic rumble echoed in the distance. That wasn't a natural quake.
"We're not alone…" I whispered, activating my helmet visor. My drones, still hidden in the dome, transmitted at once: at least a dozen figures were moving among the fissures, stalking us.
Momo noticed it too. She stepped forward, pressing her hand against her abdomen. A faint glow ran across her skin, and a rectangular metal shield formed in her hands."They're using the terrain as cover. They'll try to surround us."
That was when I decided to use the communicator in my visor—the same one I had been adjusting all week. I hadn't activated it earlier, when Aizawa requested, mainly to avoid Kurogiri or Shigaraki catching on to the transmission. If they realized we were calling for reinforcements too soon, they would unleash the Nomu without hesitation, just like when Iida escaped in the anime. They'd stop playing around and start killing for real.
But now, isolated in this corner of the USJ, it was the perfect chance.
I pressed a button on the side of my visor.
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In the Support Department's workshop, the only sounds were the metallic snap of tools and the steady hum of a motor being tested.
Hatsume Mei was completely absorbed in her own world, bent over a frame with hydraulic arms, her face hidden behind a welding mask. Each burst of sparks felt like another heartbeat in that cluttered workshop.
"Oh, baby… just a little more and you'll be perfect," she murmured with excitement, adjusting a piece with obsessive precision.
Suddenly, a strange sound broke through the rhythm of her work. A voice—metallic, broken—filtered in through the background hum of the machines.
"This is… Tachibana… Hatsume… do you copy?"
Mei blinked in surprise, slowly lifting the mask from her face."Huh? Who's that?" she whispered, her eyes shining with curiosity.
The voice returned, distorted, but clear enough to recognize."…can you hear me… Hatsume… this is Tachibana…"
Mei set her tools aside and turned toward a nearby table. Between piles of crumpled blueprints and scraps of metal, she spotted a modified walkie-talkie.
There was no mistaking whose it was: Riku had been working on that device for weeks, always in secret, never giving many explanations. And she, though curious, had never pushed too hard. If it was one of Riku's "babies," then it had to serve a special purpose.
But what froze her wasn't the walkie itself—it was the obvious detail: the device was turned on.
Mei frowned, remembering Power Loader's constant warnings. That grumpy old man hated when any prototype was left active without supervision. And Riku knew that perfectly well.
The voice came again, clearer this time through the static:"This is… Tachibana… I repeat… Hatsume, do you copy?"
Mei didn't hesitate anymore. She pulled off her gloves and let them drop onto the table with a sharp thud. Her grease-stained fingers gripped the walkie firmly. Excitement ran through her like an electric current; she sensed she was about to hear something important.
She pressed the transmit button and brought the device close to her lips."This is Mei Hatsume," she answered, her voice steady though her eyes shone with intrigue. "Is that you, assistant?"
The static flared for a few seconds, as if the signal was fighting to hold on, and then the voice came back—tired, broken, but unmistakable.
A sigh of relief slipped through on the other end, followed by Riku's voice, barely holding together through the crackle of interference.
"Hatsume… listen carefully… I'm at the USJ…" A loud crack interrupted, like something slamming into the antenna. "Villains… attacked us… communications are cut…" The hum returned, then one last clear word—"Tell… a teacher… if you can… All Might…"
The signal faded into nothing but static.
It was enough.
Mei's heart skipped a beat. The playful spark that always lit up her eyes vanished in an instant, wiping the smile from her face. She froze, the walkie trembling in her grease-stained fingers.
"What… did you just say?" she whispered, even though she knew there would be no answer.
The workshop, once full of sparks, buzzing, and vibration, now felt unbearably silent.