Traffic in Musutafu was moving normally when a deep roar echoed between the buildings, making birds take flight and pedestrians freeze.
"OUT OF THE WAY!!"
People ran in a panic through the commercial avenue, screaming as a massive mutant villain — a rhino-man over three meters tall, with bony plates along his back and a horn capable of piercing concrete — charged down the street, destroying everything he touched.
The rhino roared, shoving a car with his shoulder as if it were a toy. The vehicle spun twice in the air before crashing into a shop wall.
"HAHAHA! CLEAR PATH FOR ME!" he shouted, running faster and faster, the asphalt cracking under each step.
Death Arms came sprinting down the partially destroyed road, dodging debris, his breath heavy but determined.
"HEY! STOP RIGHT NOW! YOU'VE HURT ENOUGH PEOPLE!"
The monster only laughed, accelerating even more.
"Hah! Catch me if you can, weakling!"
Death Arms tried to speed up, but the difference in pace was huge. The villain was already nearly twenty meters ahead.
"At this rate… I can't keep up!"
The hero was sweating, pushing himself to the limit.
"If he reaches the highway, we'll have dozens of casualties!"
Mt. Lady appeared above, attempting to cut him off between the buildings.
"LEAVE IT TO ME!" she announced, giant and confident. "I'LL GRAB HIM FROM THE FRO—"
CRUNCH.
"…huh?"
She realized too late: two buildings were closer than she expected. Her hips lodged perfectly between them, like a cork jammed in a bottle.
"OH, NO! NO! NOT NOW!"
She tried to pull herself free, pushing against the walls with her hands.
"Agh, damn it! I'll end up destroying the buildings if I use too much force!"
Inside a fifth-floor apartment, a middle-aged man opened his window to see the chaos…
And was met with two metric tons of giant butt cheeks blocking half his view.
He froze for three seconds.
Then dropped to his knees.
"…thank you, God. For making today the best day of my life."
Mt. Lady flushed with anger.
"I heard that, you idiot!"
Meanwhile, the rhino-villain, completely oblivious to the colossal drama happening above him, kept speeding down the street.
Death Arms continued struggling to catch up.
"I… won't make it in time…"
The villain laughed, feeling freedom within reach — until something yanked him violently backward.
"HAHA! NO ONE CAN STOP ME!"
That's when something grabbed his ankle.
Suddenly.
Firmly.
Like a lasso.
"Huh?"
A second later, another pair of stretchy arms wrapped around his chest. Then his thighs. Then his waist.
"WHAT—?!"
And unexpectedly, he began sliding backward as if someone were reeling him in.
Death Arms' eyes widened.
"What… the hell?"
Across the street, anchoring her elastic torso around a tree trunk, was Elastigirl — stretched out, steady, her expression focused.
"BOB, NOW!" she shouted, pulling even harder to reduce the villain's momentum.
The rhino roared, still trying to understand what was restraining him.
"WH— WHAT IS THIS!? LET ME—"
He didn't finish the sentence before hearing a metallic whistle cutting through the air.
CLANG!
A manhole cover flew like a steel discus, striking the side of his head with brutal force. The mutant dropped instantly, collapsing sideways with a thud that made the ground tremble.
Farther ahead, on the still-intact side of the avenue, Mr. Incredible lowered his extended arm and rolled his shoulder with a small crack.
"Hmph. My aim's still sharp after all these years."
He smirked.
People began cheering immediately.
"It's them!"
"The American heroes!"
"My God, they're actually incredible!"
"I saw them on the news! That's Elastigirl!"
"And that big guy is Mr. Incredible!"
"They saved us!"
Death Arms stopped, hands on his knees, catching his breath — but his eyes were glued to the couple.
"…Thank goodness… they showed up."
He approached slowly, still stunned.
"They've gotten really famous around here these past few weeks…"
Elastigirl shrank back to normal size, Bob set the manhole cover down, and the two exchanged a confident smile.
Death Arms still couldn't decide if he was impressed… or worried he was being replaced by the flashy foreign heroes.
----------------------------------------
Aizawa gathered all the students right after the tests ended. Everyone was sweaty, breathless, either buzzing with excitement or sulking over their own results. He raised a tablet and projected onto the holographic screen above the field the complete list of rankings.
"Listen. Here is the final classification based on your performance. Observe carefully."
The table shimmered in the air:
1. Rito Takeda
2. Dash Parr
3. Momo Yaoyorozu
4. Shoto Todoroki
5. Katsuki Bakugo
6. Tenya Iida
7. Fumikage Tokoyami
8. Mezo Shoji
9. Mashirao Ojiro
10. Eijiro Kirishima
11. Mina Ashido
12. Ochaco Uraraka
13. Rikido Sato
14. Tsuyu Asui
15. Yuga Aoyama
16. Hanta Sero
17. Denki Kaminari
18. Kyoka Jiro
19. Toru Hagakure
20. Izuku Midoriya
The class fell silent for a few seconds as everyone processed the ranking. Bakugo ground his teeth when he saw Dash just below Ryo but above him.
"THIS LIST IS WRONG! THERE'S NO WAY THAT THIN-LEGGED BLOND—!"
Dash puffed out his chest, proud.
"Second place! I almost got first! I was so close, dude!"
Ryo yawned.
"Congratulations… I guess."
Midoriya, on the other hand, shrank into himself, trembling as he saw his name all the way at the bottom.
"L-Last…? Ah… ahaha… I'm really going to—"
Aizawa cut his self-deprecation short with a cold stare.
"And before any of you start panicking or being dramatic… that whole expulsion thing was a lie."
Everyone froze.
"A lie?" Iida widened his eyes, scandalized. "Sensei, that is highly unethical!"
"It was meant to motivate you," Aizawa replied with zero remorse. "And it worked."
Kaminari dropped to his knees.
"Bro… I almost cried."
Hagakure let out a relieved sigh.
"I thought I'd totally lost my spot…"
Midoriya practically melted onto the ground, feeling his soul return to his body.
"T-Thank goodness…"
Aizawa slipped the tablet into his coat pocket.
"In the end, everyone passed. And congratulations to those at the top… though some of you clearly broke equipment unnecessarily."
Ryo looked away, uncomfortable.
"And you." Aizawa pointed at Dash, switching to English for the blond. "Next time, try not to run that fast."
Dash gave an innocent smile.
"I'll try not to… I mean, I'll try to try!"
The teacher sighed as if already tired of the entire school year.
"Anyway. You have the rest of the day off. Tomorrow, we'll begin something closer to what a hero course actually demands."
And with that, Aizawa turned his back and began walking away, leaving behind a noisy, excited class… that burst into euphoric murmurs — and within seconds, two small whirlwinds of people had formed around Ryo and Dash.
"Dude! How did you do that!?"
"That was insanely manly!"
"You broke the meter!"
"Dash! Your run looked like something out of a movie, man!"
Ryo felt his eyelid twitch. They were so close he could barely breathe. Hands pointing, questions firing from all directions.
Kirishima slapped his shoulder so enthusiastically he nearly knocked him over.
"That was SO badass! You're a beast, bro!"
Dash, meanwhile, stood frozen in the middle of his own circle, wide-eyed with a nervous smile.
"Ehm… guys? I don't… understand… what you're saying?"
Kaminari leaned in, trying to help:
"YOU… ARE… FASTO!"
Dash blinked.
"That's not— okay, buddy, thanks for trying."
Sero tried as well:
"GOOD… RUN! VERY… SPEEDO!"
Dash's face fell.
"Okay, now you're just smashing random words together."
Momo finally pushed her way between them, walking calmly.
"Dash, they're impressed with your speed. And they're asking how you manage to stay stable when running past the sound barrier without losing control."
Dash breathed out in relief.
"Finally! Someone else who speaks English properly, please be my friend!"
Meanwhile, Ryo tried to take two steps back — just two — but someone always moved into his path.
"How does your quirk work?"
"What's the limit of your quirk?"
"Dude, your quirk looks a LOT like All Might's!"
"Your eyes look cool when you use your quirk!"
"Do you have a girlfriend??"
The last question made Ryo finally snap.
He raised his hands sharply, pushing space open with his body.
"Enough! You're way too close, damn it!"
The class froze for a moment, surprised by the blunt tone — not aggressive, just exhausted.
"I don't wanna talk. Get out of my way."
He forced his way through the still-confused crowd, ignoring calls, compliments, and questions. He walked quickly, footsteps firm, irritation clear on his face.
As the emotional dust inside him finally started to settle, he lifted his eyes…
…and almost bumped into Todoroki.
The two-toned boy stood right in the middle of the hallway, silent, watching him with a cold calm that contrasted with the noisy class behind them. An analytical, deep, almost clinical gaze.
For a brief moment — less than a second — Ryo's eyes met his.
No words exchanged.
No greeting.
Just a mutual recognition of something neither could describe.
Ryo immediately looked away, moving past him without hesitation, as if the boy's presence were just another obstacle in his path.
Todoroki slowly turned his head to follow his departure, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"He kind of looks like me…" he murmured to himself, unable to explain the strange feeling nagging at the back of his mind.
"No… must just be my imagination."
But the tense line on his face suggested he didn't fully believe that.
As Ryo continued on his way to the classroom, Todoroki remained there, unmoving, as if trying to decipher a puzzle that only grew more complicated after that brief encounter.
----------------------------------------
The end of the first classes arrived like a collective sigh from the whole class, but for Ryo it was just another weight pressing down on his neck. He left the room without looking at anyone, ignoring Dash trying to catch up to him, ignoring Midoriya calling from afar, and even the silent curiosity of a few classmates.
He just wanted to go home.
The walk back to his apartment was quick, almost automatic. When he finally opened the door and stepped inside, he barely had the energy to close it gently — it slammed shut behind him, echoing through the room.
As soon as he reached the center of the living room, he let his backpack drop with a loud thunk… and fell down with it, face-first, like a puppet with cut strings.
"...awful. Worst first day of my life," he muttered, his voice muffled against the cold floor.
He stayed there, motionless, breathing heavily.
Back in middle school, no one cared about him… and he liked it that way. All he had to do was stay quiet, walk in the shadows of the hallway, avoid doing anything noticeable, and people simply forgot he existed.
Now everything had been turned upside down.
"Was it because of that damn test…?" he growled into the floor, fingers curling against the wood. "Damn it… that teacher's partly to blame too. That stupid expulsion thing… idiot…"
He turned his head to the side, frustrated, before slowly rolling onto his back. His hands rested on his chest as his breathing calmed. He stared at the ceiling with an empty expression.
"Will they… leave me alone tomorrow?" he whispered. "I don't want anything from them. No friendship, no fights, no talking… nothing. Just… staying in my corner like always."
The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. He stared at the ceiling as if searching for an answer hidden in the imperfections of the paint.
A few long seconds later, he let out a sigh.
"…that sounded exactly like something an antisocial emo would say."
One hand slid down his face, dragging his frustration with it.
"…yeah. Being alone is fine… but sounding like an emo? No."
With a decisive motion, he sat up. Then he stood, cracking his neck and brushing off his wrinkled clothes without much care.
He dragged himself to the kitchen, opening the fridge without much enthusiasm.
"Okay. Better eat something to destress…" he grumbled.
And he began looking for something to prepare, wanting nothing more than a bit of normalcy to make up for the terrible day.
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[Location: Central Park, New York]
Central Park was calm that sunny afternoon. Tall trees cast cool shadows over the picnic tables, children ran across the grass, and a man with a chihuahua's head, strolled peacefully as he guided his tiny chihuahua on a blue leash.
The mutant tilted his head, ears twitching slightly.
Something was wrong with the sky.
Above the treetops, a plane… no — a strange aircraft, windowless and with a spherical belly — crossed the air with a heavy hum that clashed with the peaceful atmosphere.
"What the hell…?" the dog-man muttered, scrunching his snout.
The aircraft lurched.
Suddenly, it changed direction sharply, as if it had completely lost control. The nose tilted downward, and it began to fall.
People around stopped to look at the sky before panicking at what they saw.
Parents grabbed their children, couples staggered backward, and the entire park erupted into chaos as the sound of the descending aircraft echoed between the trees.
In the surrounding blocks, pedestrians stopped in front of building screens. Local broadcasts automatically switched to aerial footage captured by a small news team inside a helicopter — shaky images showing the aircraft plummeting toward the park.
"Oh my God—!"
"It's going to crash there!"
"Run! RUN!"
But before the disaster could unfold, something faster than the aircraft appeared.
A figure with a red cape cut through the sky, gleaming like a comet.
"CAPTAIN CELEBRITY?!" several spectators shouted at once.
The No. 2 Pro-Hero of the USA flew beneath the aircraft, placing his hands under the spherical belly and locking the colossal weight onto his shoulders as if he were catching a collapsing building.
He pushed his body against the fall, slowing it down meter by meter, until his feet were nearly touching the edge of the park's large central fountain. Water splashed under the pressure of the halted descent.
People stared in shock… then joy bloomed across their faces.
Applause burst out along with cries of relief.
"CAPTAIN CELEBRITY!!"
"HE SAVED EVERYONE!"
"I LOVE YOU, CELEBRITY!!"
He flashed a wide grin, raising his chin with arrogant charm. His bright white smile shone even more than the sunlight filtering through the trees.
"Always a pleasure to save my fans!" he said, winking and striking a pose.
But he didn't notice the growing metallic creak above his head.
CREAAAAK…
The aircraft trembled.
The applause turned to screams as two massive pieces of metal broke off, crashing down, crushing benches, tearing out trees, and kicking up dust and panic in every direction.
Captain Celebrity froze for an instant.
"What—?!"
Before he could finish, something burst from the aircraft's belly — a massive articulated mechanical claw that opened like a jaw and clamped around his waist like a toy.
"Hey, hey, whoa—!"
Then it flung him across the street, straight into an administrative building.
The impact shattered windows, ripped out walls, and hurled him through rooms, desks, and partitions, leaving a trail of destruction until he finally stopped, half-buried in the remains of an office.
Back in the park, the object — now clearly a metallic sphere with six retractable claws — hit the ground, sinking into the dirt under its weight. The claws retracted with a clank, the shell rearranged itself, and a top-mounted camera rose, rotating to observe everything around it with a cold red glow.
Citizens froze for a second before fleeing in desperation.
In the building, Captain Celebrity pushed debris off himself, brushing dust from his cape as he tried to regain his composure. He heard a small whimper to his right and turned his head.
A young woman — pretty, hair tied back, glasses hanging crooked on her face — stared at him in fear.
His brain rebooted instantly.
Ah, yes. Priorities.
He straightened up quickly, fixed his hair, patted the dust off his partially dirty uniform, and struck his classic heroic pose — chest out, confident smile, hand on hip.
"My apologies for the… incident, lovely lady. I was sort of caught off guard by a… thing," he said, tilting his face to the perfect angle. "It scratched my shine a little… but you know how it is."
He gave an exaggeratedly charming wink.
"Celebrity always finds a way to shine again."
The woman blinked, too confused to respond.
He then turned around, waved, and flew out through the shattered window, leaving drifting sheets of paper behind him.