Chapter 31: Giant Robots
Rock Lee stood before the towering wall of steel and circuits, a silent David before a dozen Goliaths. The roar of the stadium felt distant, the frantic movements of the other students fading into the periphery. His world had shrunk to the space between himself and the obstacle. Far ahead, he could see the distant figures of Todoroki and Bakugo, pulling away, widening a gap that would soon become insurmountable.
Fighting them one by one will cost too much time, his mind calculated with cold, swift precision. The Fourth Gate is a tool for enduring a long battle. But what I need now is not endurance. I need a key. A single, overwhelming blow that will shatter this obstacle and reopen my path to victory.
He closed his eyes, his mind turning inward. He could feel Sora-sensei's warnings echoing in his memory, her words of caution about recklessness, about pushing an unprepared body past its limits.
Sora-sensei... I know I am not yet ready for this burden, he thought, a silent apology directed at his master. But a hero does not act only when they are ready. They act when they are needed. And to prove my way, to stand on the same stage as the gifted… I must be needed now.
He opened his eyes. They no longer held the light of a hopeful student. They held the fire of an impending supernova.
In the quiet, sun-drenched tranquility of the dojo, Sora Aokawa sat cross-legged before a small, old television. The contrast was jarring: the serene, ancient hall versus the roaring, chaotic spectacle on the screen. She watched not as a fan, but as a master craftsman inspecting her work on the world's biggest stage.
She had watched Lee's brilliant wall-run with a flicker of a proud smirk. Clever. He uses their own power against them. She saw him arrive at the Robo Inferno and nodded to herself. A test of power application. He will use the Third Gate to dismantle them efficiently.
On the screen, she saw Lee's form tense. The image was a little grainy, but she knew his stances better than she knew her own reflection. She saw the familiar signs. The air around him shimmered.
"Third Gate," she murmured, her voice analytical.
Then, the energy on the screen intensified. A brilliant blue aura, one she had seen only once before, erupted from his form. Her calm expression tightened. The teacup in her hand trembled slightly.
"The Fourth… you fool, Lee, that's too much for this," she whispered, her knuckles turning white. "Don't be reckless."
But then, she saw something else. Through the screen, she saw his stance change, his body coiling in a way she had only ever shown him in theory, in diagrams from the ancient scrolls. She saw the blue aura begin to swirl violently, twisting with another, deeper energy she recognized instantly. It was his own life force, the vibrant green she had only ever sensed, now being visibly ripped to the surface.
Her eyes widened in genuine, heart-stopping shock. The teacup slipped from her fingers, shattering on the wooden floor, the sound lost in the roaring of the television.
"NO!" she screamed at the screen, leaping to her feet, her calm demeanor completely obliterated. "YOU IDIOT! YOU'RE NOT READY FOR THAT ONE! STOP!"
But her voice was just a desperate cry in an empty room, a thousand kilometers away from the boy who was about to defy all logic, and every warning she had ever given him.
Lee took a deep, shuddering breath, his entire body coiling like a spring. He began the sequence, his voice a low, powerful chant that was heard by no one but himself.
"First Gate: Gate of Opening! KAIMON… KAI!" The mental locks shattered.
"Second Gate: Gate of Healing! KYŪMON… KAI!" The exhaustion vanished, replaced by a surge of vitality.
"Third Gate: Gate of Life! SEIMON… KAI!" His skin flushed a brilliant red, and steam poured from his body as his blood began to boil with power.
"Fourth Gate: Gate of Pain! SHŌMON… KAI!" The raging blue aura erupted around him, the familiar agony a welcome friend. The world sharpened into a hyper-real state of perception.
But he did not stop. He pushed further, delving deeper than he ever had before, into a realm of pure, self-destructive power. He roared, his voice tearing from his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated will.
"FIFTH GATE: GATE OF LIMIT! TOMON… KAI!"
The world exploded.
The blue aura around him intensified, darkening to a deep, violent cobalt. Then, from the very core of his being, a brilliant, emerald-green energy—his own life force, his chakra—was violently wrenched to the surface. The two colors collided and fused, swirling into a raging, turquoise tempest of pure power that tore at the very air around him. The ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered. His muscles bulged to an unnatural degree, threatening to tear themselves from his bones. It was a power that no human body was ever meant to contain.
He did not run. He launched.
He became a turquoise cannonball, a living missile that shot across the field, leaving a trench in the ground in his wake. He aimed not for a joint, not for a weak point, but for the very heart of the largest Zero-Pointer robot.
His fist, wreathed in the swirling green and blue tempest, connected with the robot's thick, armored torso.
The moment of impact was silent. For a single, terrifying nanosecond, all sound ceased, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Then came the sound—not a crash, but a high-pitched, resonant SCREEEEE of metal being subjected to a force beyond its comprehension.
Lee's fist didn't just dent the armor. It didn't just break it. It disintegrated it. The turquoise energy vaporized the steel plating on contact. He punched through the chest, through the complex inner workings, through the reinforced spinal column of the machine.
And then, he burst out of the robot's back, leaving a massive, perfectly round, molten-edged hole in its wake.
He landed on the other side, his body skidding to a halt as the hulking metal giant behind him froze. Its single red eye flickered, dimmed, and then died. With a low, groaning protest of tortured metal, the behemoth began to topple, crashing to the ground with a cataclysmic BOOM that shook the entire stadium.
The moment his feet were firmly planted, Lee released his will. The Gates slammed shut. The backlash was immediate and cataclysmic. A stabbing, white-hot pain shot through his skull, as if a spike had been driven through his eyes. A deep, grinding ache radiated from his very bones, a protest from a body that had just been used as a vessel for god-like power. His vision blurred, the vibrant colors of the stadium turning to a muted, hazy grey for a terrifying second. He tasted blood in the back of his throat. He staggered, clutching his right fist, which was trembling uncontrollably, not from weakness, but from the residual energy trying to tear it apart.
He looked at his trembling limbs. He felt the agony. He ignored it. He locked it away in a deep, iron-willed corner of his mind. He stood up straight, his back rigid, and declared to the silent, watching world, his voice strained but clear:
"Nothing happened… I can continue!"
The stunned silence of the stadium held for one more second, and then it was shattered by a single, unified, explosive roar of pure, unadulterated disbelief.
"WHAT WAS THAAAAAT?!" Present Mic's voice shrieked through the speakers, cracking with shock. "HE PUNCHED A HOLE! HE PUNCHED A HOLE THROUGH A GIANT ROBOT! WITH HIS BARE FIST! WHAT IS HIS QUIRK?! IS HIS QUIRK 'BEING A MONSTER'?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SEEING, FOLKS, BUT I LOVE IT!"
In the stands, the Pro Heroes were on their feet. Endeavor's scowl deepened, his flames flickering with agitation at the sight of such unexpected, raw power. Aizawa's single visible eye was as wide as a dinner plate. All Might, in his weakened form, coughed up a bit of blood, not from his injury, but from the sheer shock and overwhelming pride that made his heart pound in his thin chest.
In a quiet suburban living room, Lee's mother cried out his name, her hands flying to her mouth in terror. His father, in a single, jerky motion, shot to his feet, knocking his chair over, his face pale as a sheet as he stared at the screen, speechless.
And back in the dojo, Sora Aokawa slowly sank back into a chair, her face white, her body trembling. She looked at the screen, at the small, determined figure of her student standing amidst the wreckage, and a single, shaky whisper escaped her lips.
"You absolute… glorious… fool…"