The sun beat down on the rooftop training area of Black Lotus Gym, warming the reinforced concrete to a griddle. Arthur stood in the center, talking to three professional heroes simultaneously—a drill familiar after a year.
A year, he considered as Instinct flared, alerting him to the attack that was going to be unleashed from his left. A year since the tournament. Everything is different.
He activated Mana Burst and walked. Golden lightning crisscrossed about his body—not just energy, but streaming electrical charge that ionized the air itself. The transition from simple enhancement to full-blown Mana Burst (Lightning) had happened six months ago, and he still marveled at the difference.
Arthur's block wreathed in lightning struck Tachibana Ryo's superheated fist. The collision sent a shockwave crashing through the air and shattered windows in nearby buildings. Arthur's boost no longer merely magnified his power—it converted his magical energy into raw electricity that could be sustained at high output for fifteen minutes or normal combat output for over half an hour.
"Stronger every week!" Mai screamed, her seismic perception feeling the shock of electricity on the ground. She swept low.
Arthur simply stepped off into the air—no leaping, but using the power of his lightning-charged muscles to make the air solid ground for a moment—and drew twin energy blades sparking with electricity.
The drop when he fell rained spiderweb cracks over the reinforced rooftop. Mai rolled aside, her eyes wide.
"That's new," she said.
"Worked on it last week," Arthur replied, already turning to take Nakamura Jin's force fields. His sword sliced through the barrier like paper—the lightning disintegrating the energy construct from within.
The three-on-one continued throughout the entire ten-minute practice. Arthur was barely out of breath at the end. His opponents, all professional heroes, were spent.
"You're no longer training with us," Mai gasped after drinks of water. "You're showing us how to survive combat against you. There's a difference."
"That's not fair," Arthur protested.
"Arthur." Ryo put a hand on his shoulder, his usual good nature strangely gloomy. "I'm a top-100 hero in Japan. Mai is top-50. Jin is top-150. Six months ago, we could hold our own in a three-on-one. Today? You're not even efforting and we all know it."
Arthur didn't respond. They were right. His growth over the past year had been exponential—well more than should be allowed by ordinary quirk development. His Royal Core was awakening faster, the stored potential of his past life showing up one by one as his body built up sufficient strength to contain them.
"Break time," Mai announced. "Arthur, you have a visitor."
Yamada Rin arrived on the roof, her hero work outfit immediately recognizable—the sleek black and silver of Phantom Blade, #47 who was in Japan at the moment.
"Sensei," Arthur bowed slightly.
"Let's go somewhere," Rin stated, her expression sternly serious.
They descended to the quieter lower level of the gym. Rin remained silent until they were completely by themselves.
"I'm going to skip the small talk," she said. "I'd like to recommend you for U.A.'s special entrance exam."
Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. "The recommendation exam?"
"You've done your homework?"
"Very extensively. Students recommended by professional heroes or other well-known people. A heck of a lot harder than the normal entrance exam, but students who pass are promised acceptance." Arthur's tactical mind already was calculating pros and cons. "You think I qualify?"
"Ready?" Rin laughed, but not from humor. "Arthur, three months ago you fought Gunhead—top-30 hero—and drew with him. You're fifteen. You shouldn't even be close to that level, and here we are."
Arthur did not say a word. She was right to be concerned. His growth was abnormal, even for a person with a solid quirk. But he could not inform her that his "quirk" was actually the reincarnation of legendary warrior-king powers.
"I've already submitted the forms," Rin continued. "The test is in two weeks from now. You'll be going up against kids like Todoroki Shoto—Endeavor's kid, double quirk, trained since birth. Yaoyorozu Momo—genius-level mind, Creation quirk, class one. These are the cream of the crop."
"And you want me to be part of them."
"I think you're going to make the rest of them look amateurish," Rin said straight out. "But that's not the reason I'm recommending you. I'm recommending you because you have something those legacy students tend not to—you know what it's like to defend people. Not for glory, not for fame. You fight as a person who's already lost everything once and is not going to let it happen again."
Arthur sensed something tightening in his chest. She was more perceptive than he had believed she would be.
"I accept," he said. "Thank you for this opportunity."
Rin smiled. "Don't thank me yet. The test is going to put you through more than you've ever been put through before. They want to test your limits."
"Good," Arthur said quietly. "So do I."
Two Weeks Later - U.A. High School
Arthur stood in front of the massive U.A. gates, watching the other recommendation examineees arrive. Thirty students total—the cream of their generation. He spotted a few of them right away.
Todoroki Shoto was immediately recognizable among the rest of them, his dual-colored hair and cold demeanor giving off "do not approach." Yaoyorozu Momo was having an argument with another student, her commanding stance marking her as someone accustomed to greatness.
But Arthur's attention was arrested by the hero responsible for the test—a figure in a big space suit with an identifying helmet.
Thirteen, Arthur recognized immediately. The Space Hero. Black Hole quirk, rescue specialist. One of U.A.'s leading instructors for disaster drills.
"Attention, test-takers!" Thirteen bellowed, her voice warm despite the looming costume. "Welcome to U.A.'s recommendation test. I'll be conducting today's rescue simulation. Follow me, and I'll explain the exercise."
They were taken to one of U.A.'s gigantic training facilities—the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, though Arthur didn't know the name. It was a huge complex with various zones of disaster: buildings that had fallen down, areas of flooding, areas of fire, landslides.
"The game is simple," Thirteen explained. "Thirty minutes to rescue as many civilians as you can from a range of disaster scenarios. Rewards for effective rescues, speed, and not causing collateral damage. Penalties for the deaths of civilians, irresponsible operations, or structural failure. Your quirks are fully permitted—let's see how you do under pressure."
Arthur gazed at the building with strategic eyes honed through centuries. The typical student would rush to the self-explanatory situations—the burning building, the crashed one. But disaster response was not about competing for the same rescues.
Prioritize, evaluate, act, he thought. Find situations no one else will notice.
"Begin!"
The students fanned out. Todoroki created a massive ice bridge straight to the ruined building. Yaoyorozu went straight to work creating rescue equipment. Others dashed toward open spaces of devastation.
Arthur activated Mana Burst on normal output—long-term sustainable at this rate for over an hour—and golden lightning crackled around his form. He moved deliberately into the landslide zone, where everyone except a few students had ruled out in favor of more dramatic potentialities.
Inside, he found five mannevin civilian dead under layers of rubble and mud. The scenario was long-term and demanded either Herculean strength or flair quirk use.
Arthur showed his energy blades, now encircled in electrical energy that enabled them to cut through rock like butter. But he did not just hack at it. His Instinct—battle experience learned over the centuries—guided each slash with surgeon precision.
Three minutes: first civilian rescued by slowly sweeping away debris in a pattern that minimized causing further collapse.
Five minutes: second and third civilians freed with a combination of blade work and raw power that enabled him to hoist multi-ton boulders.
Seven minutes: fourth civilian required subtlety. Arthur used smaller bursts of energy to drill through the mud without initiating a secondary slide.
As he completed the fifth rescue, Arthur could feel something shifting inside of him. A warmth running through his veins, a primal transformation in how his quirk interacted with reality.
The landslide region featured all manner of quirk-based threats constructed in—electromagnetic fields to simulate power line danger, sonic disruptors, even some kind of airborne chemical agent. Arthur had been pushing through them, sensing the mild discomfort but focusing on the goal.
Except that the discomfort was being nullified. No—not being nullified. Being overridden.
The electromagnetic field which had been creating a slight tingling effect abruptly seemed like nothing at all. The sonic disruptor ceased to be disorienting. Even the chemical substance in the air—whatever it was supposed to mimic—completely ceased affecting him.
His quirk had manifested again. Magic Resistance—the ability to counter or resist effects from external sources—was now active in full.
Arthur set the discovery aside and finished the fifth rescue. Nine minutes in total, five civilians saved from an ordeal designed to take the full exam period for most students.
He moved on to the next location—the flooding area. Water rapidly rose in a multi-story building, and civilian mannequins were trapped on upper floors with stairwells collapsed obliterating standard pathways.
Other children were trying to drain the water or construct bridges. Arthur perceived a simpler path.
He unleashed Mana Burst at maximum power—fifteen minutes of complete buffing—and lightning burst from everywhere around him like a tempest brought to life. The water in the plant literally ionized due to the electrical field.
Then he proceeded.
To observers, it looked like teleportation. Arthur shot through the water-soaked gap in one blazing burst, his lightning-wrapped form leaving a column of seared steam behind. He crashed into the outside wall of the building with enough force to blow through reinforced concrete, creating a hole straight to the second floor.
By the entrance, extract the civilians, repeat on the third floor. Four additional rescues in four minutes, and he'd barely used his stamina reserves.
Camera drones on his back now, multiple cameras. The examiners had caught on.
Arthur proceeded through the complex with calm efficiency. He wasn't the flashy one—Todoroki's ice structures were a feast for the eyes. He wasn't the fix-it type—Yaoyorozu's device repairs were creative problem-solving at its finest.
But he was systematic. Every situation he encountered, he cleared out completely. Every civilian, he evacuated in one piece. Every structural hazard, he neutralized proficiently.
At the twenty-minute point, Arthur had rescued twelve—number one, two, and three in the exercise, and he'd done it with no high-competition zones even entered.
Then his Instinct emitted a shout of warning. Something was wrong.
Arthur ran towards the collapsed building where most of the students had been working. He heard it first, before he was able to see it—the groan of over-stressed metal, the crunch of crumbling concrete.
A support column—significantly weakened by several powerful quirks utilized in rapid sequence—was giving way. Two civilian dummy figures and one real student, above, were all in danger of being flattened.
The student was fleeing, but she wasn't going to make it. The beam was already collapsing.
Arthur drove Mana Burst to sheer maximum. Lightning erupted around him in a corona of golden energy that sent the air itself screaming. He traversed forty meters in less than a second and wrapped his arms around the falling beam.
The load was gargantuan—twenty tons of steel and concrete, falling with gravitational acceleration. Arthur's muscles rippled, lightning dancing along the beam as he converted magical power into raw stopping force directly.
The beam came to a stop. Cold dead stop. Arthur stood beneath it, arms caught in the stop, body encased in so much electrical energy that the ground under his feet was beginning to become slag.
"MOVE!" he shouted to the student.
She dodged out of its path, eyes wide with shock. Students nearby stared in disbelief—that sort of raw power was creeping up on only the very finest of heroes.
Arthur maintained the beam for five full seconds—a lifetime holding that kind of weight—then sent it to the side with a controlled heave. The beam crashed into a designated area of debris with a deafening roar.
His Mana Burst hadn't depleted. Fifteen minutes of full power, and he'd used only six. His body was begging for exhaustion, but he had reserves.
"Time!" Thirteen's voice echoed over the speakers. "Exam complete! All examinees back to the starting point!"
Then there were combat tests. Arthur fought three advanced training robots simultaneously—each designed to push top-student skills.
He wiped them out in under half a minute. Not by brute force of attack, but by perfect tactical maneuvering. His Instinct predicted their attack cycles in two cycles. His Mana Burst gave him the speed to exploit every opening. His lightning-wreathed energy blades cut through armor like paper.
The faces of the examiners were expressionless, but Arthur caught them murmuring to one another.
And then there was the interview.
Three pro heroes confronted him in a private room. Arthur recognized one of them—Present Mic, the Voice Hero—but he was surprisingly subdued in this setting. The others were in business attire rather than costume.
"Himura Arthur," the head examiner—a stern woman with piercing eyes—read from his file. "Quirk: Royal Core. Sponsored by Phantom Blade. Rescue simulation scores: seventeen rescues, no civilian casualties, no structural collapses beyond acceptable margins, and one rescue of an actual examinee. That's the highest score we've seen in five years."
"Thank you," Arthur responded dryly.
"Your combat report was. brief," Present Mic said, leaning forward. "Those robots were designed to challenge pro heroes in teams. You dismantled them like toys. Would you care to explain how?"
Arthur considered his answer. "Pattern recognition and efficiency. The robots are programmed, so they have set patterns of assault. My quirk gives me accelerated reflexes and what I'd term 'combat sense'—I can anticipate attacks before they have time to develop. With sufficient speed and cutting power, the battle is a cinch."
"Easy," the third examiner pulled out slowly. "You sliced through a twenty-ton beam in free fall. That's not easy—that's All Might territory."
"I would not equate myself to the Symbol of Peace," said Arthur. "But my idiosyncrasy has been building up fast. The strength boost is one thing, but there are others."
"Speaking of development—" The head examiner gestured at something on her tablet. "We've got footage of you from fourteen months ago, back when you were still in the Chiben Tournament. Your growth curve is. unprecedented. You've increased your combat power by at least an order of magnitude. How?".
"My quirk is complex," he said. "Royal Core doesn't just boost—it has multiple aspects that unfold as I'm growing. The energy builds first. Then combat instincts. Recently, I've also noticed increased immunity to external stimuli—heat, cold, even some quirk-based attacks are weaker on me."
All true. Magic Resistance, Rank A, had materialized in the middle of the exam itself.
"Your report says that you trained with some of the professional heroes," Present Mic responded. "Phantom Blade, naturally, but we have records of you at Black Lotus Gym. You've battled against top-100 heroes and come out even. At fifteen. That's not just quirk development—something else is going on there."
Arthur returned his eyes levelly. "I train harder than most people find reasonable. I've had great mentors who instilled in me that fundamentals are more important than brute strength. And I approach every fight seriously, even sparring matches. Complacency kills—that's not an expression."
"Talk like someone who's been in combat," the lead examiner said. "Actual combat, not merely training. But your record indicates no encounters with villains. Where does that attitude originate from?"
From watching my knights die at Camlann. From holding Bedivere as he slowly died. From learning too late to be a distant king was worth it all.
"From understanding what it means to fall," Arthur sighed. "When heroes fall, innocent people are killed. I've seen the ensuing villain rampages on television, read the accounts, deconstructed the disasters. I don't want to be a failure when it matters. That takes training for my life, because one day someone else's will."
The room fell silent for a moment. The examiners glanced at one another.
"One final question," the chief examiner said. "Why do you wish to be a hero?"
Arthur didn't flinch. "Because power without purpose serves no use. I was gifted with this oddity, these abilities, his chance for greatness. The only thing that truly matters is what I use it for. And what I choose to do is protect people who can't protect themselves. That's what heroes do."
The interview took another fifteen minutes—tactical scenarios, moral dilemmas, teamwork and leadership questions.
And then they dismissed him with a brusque: "Thank you, Himura. Results in one week."
One Week Later
Arthur stood in his own backyard, practicing combat stances under the stars. His body moved through centuries-honed techniques, energy blades flashing and disappearing in seamless unison.
His phone beeped. An email from U.A. High School.
Heart rate even—he'd learned decades ago not to let expectation get the better of him—Arthur opened the letter.
Dear Himura Arthur,
Congratulations. You have been admitted to U.A. High School Hero Course, Class 1-A, by recommendation examination. Your performance demonstrated excellent strategic thinking, technical skill, raw power, and heroic personality at a level scarcely seen even among recommendation candidates.
Please find attached your enrollment information and school supply list. Classes begin April 6th.
Welcome to U.A.
— Principal Nezu
The message had been read by Arthur three times, and reality had time to sink in. He'd done it. In over a year of rigorous training, he'd gotten recommendation placement at the top hero school in Japan.
But more than that, he understood what it was. U.A. would push him harder. The teachers were legends—Eraserhead, Present Mic, Midnight, All Might himself taught there. The training would be tougher than anything he'd ever witnessed.
Perfect.
"Arthur!" His mom shouted. "Dinner's ready!"
He shoved his phone into his pocket and headed in. His parents were setting the table, and Arthur felt a warmth in his chest that had zero, zilch, nothing to do with his quirk.
"You look happy," his father said. "Good news?"
"I got into U.A.," Arthur said. "The recommendation exam. I made it."
His mother's hands came to her mouth. His father let go of the plate he was holding—Arthur caught it, reflexes that left his father blinking.
Then the two of them were embracing him, laughing and crying simultaneously.
"We are so proud," Akari said, wiping away her tears. "You've worked so hard for this."
They celebrated that night. Yuki, Kenji, and Miki dropped by, congratulating and partying. Hana sent a video message: "You better not forget us when you're a famous pro hero!"
To be continued.