A mechanical voice echoed across the battle center.
"BEGIN."
For a heartbeat, silence ruled.
Then the city woke.
Shutters burst open. Metal feet hammered concrete. Red sensor-eyes flared to life as robots poured into the artificial streets. Students surged forward, quirks igniting the air with color and chaos.
Tenji Kurokawa stepped forward.
Not rushing.
Not hesitating.
Just moving.
A three-pointer robot lumbered toward him, arms raised, steel joints screeching. Its targeting system locked on. It charged.
Tenji lifted his hand.
Space rippled.
Not air.
Not wind.
Reality itself bent.
The robot swung its arm down—
and its strike curved away from Tenji, crashing uselessly into a nearby wall. Concrete shattered. Dust bloomed.
The machine staggered, confused.
Tenji stepped upward onto folded space, rising above ground level like walking onto invisible stairs.
He extended two fingers.
Cursed energy gathered.
Space compressed.
Pressure built between unseen boundaries.
Then—
A silent crack.
Thin Ice Breaker released.
The shock struck the robot's core. Metal split. Sparks burst. The machine collapsed into scrap.
A chime sounded from his wrist device.
Points earned.
Tenji lowered himself gently back to the ground.
Breathing steady.
Energy flow stable.
More robots advanced.
Tenji moved like a drifting current.
A step onto invisible ground.
A twist of space to redirect incoming fire.
A subtle fold that turned a charging robot's momentum against itself, slamming it into another machine.
Metal collided. Both collapsed.
Points gained.
Students nearby shouted in awe.
"What kind of quirk is that?!"
Tenji didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
A two-pointer fired a projectile.
Tenji tilted his palm.
The bullet curved mid-flight, veering away and striking its shooter instead. The robot exploded from its own attack.
Tenji walked past the wreckage.
No wasted motion.
No wasted energy.
Minutes passed.
Smoke rose. Sirens blared. Screams mixed with metallic destruction.
Tenji could feel the slow drain of cursed energy now — not dangerous, but present. He adjusted instinctively. Smaller folds. Shorter compressions. Letting redirected force do most of the work.
Efficiency over spectacle.
That was the advantage of sorcery.
Then the ground trembled.
A massive zero-pointer robot emerged, towering over the battlefield like a walking fortress. Students panicked, scattering in all directions.
Tenji watched it rise.
He didn't need to destroy it.
But he could.
He raised his hand.
Space around the giant's legs warped. Its massive stride curved sideways. Instead of advancing, it stumbled into a ruined building, collapsing into rubble.
Not destroyed.
But removed from the field.
Tenji turned away calmly.
The exam would sort itself out.
The siren blared again.
"END OF EXAM."
Robots shut down. Smoke thinned. Medical staff entered the field.
Tenji stood among broken machines and shattered concrete, uniform dusted with gray.
His breathing was steady.
His mind clear.
His energy reserves low but controlled.
He looked up.
The sky stretched pale and open above the battlefield.
He folded space beneath his heel once.
A quiet greeting.
A quiet promise.
UA had tested him.
And he had answered.