Enjoy this you shall... you shall you beeeeeeeee
By the way.. just killed the elden beast... That's right.. Joe Mama is offically an Elden LORD... HAHAHAHAHA.. Now I am gonna buy the DLC, hope it's fun.
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Momo's plan was simple.
A three-wave cycle.
Wave one: Every non-hero student charges from all directions simultaneously. The goal isn't to beat him; it was to tire him.
Wave two: The heavy hitters. Bakugo, Todoroki, Shinso's puppets, and the remaining hero course fighters. Along with any wave one survivors still standing. They hit while he's engaged.
Wave three: Momo herself.
She explained it in forty-five seconds, and then green-lighted the operation.
"WAVE ONE!! GO!!"
Forty-three non-hero students charged into the clearing.
They charged from every direction. North, south, east, and west. A wall of bodies rushes across the scorched earth toward the boy hovering at the centre.
Akira watched them come.
He flew down as his wings folded and dissolved.
Let's do this.
He rolled his neck, doing one final stretch.
Phoenix Drive: Overdrive
He looked at the wave of students rushing at him and smiled.
"You want to dance?"
He got no reaction, which... was expected.
"So let's dance."
Forty-three students collided at one point.
In the stadium, a hundred thousand people held their breath. The screens showed the drone feed. It was a circle of bodies collapsing inward, and at the centre, one boy, standing still, waiting.
Then, the impact, and Akira moved.
The first student reached him as his right fist was swollen like a balloon. He swung down with everything he had.
Akira sidestepped the punch by a cm. The fist cratered the ground where he'd been standing. Akira, on the other hand, was already inside his guard.
He opened his palm and shoved it into the chest. The boy was sent flying back.
That's one, many more to go.
The second and third came together. A girl who shot hardened nails from her fingers and a boy with rope limbs.
The nails came first. A volley aimed at his vitals. Akira weaved through them as the nails passed him. The rope guy followed as he created a whip and aimed at his legs.
Akira jumped. The arm passed underneath him, then he landed on it.
The pain made the boy lose focus for a moment, and that was all he needed.
Akira ran towards the boy, and his knee connected with the jaw.
This gave the nail girl enough time to reload and launch more nails.
Akira caught her wrist and redirected the volley into the ground. Swept her legs and pinned her to the ground.
The rest just started, in under a minute, three students were down.
In the arena, Present Mic was screaming his lungs out, and the crowd was on their feet, matching the energy.
Five students rushed in. This time a coordinated attack. Two from the front, two from the sides, one from behind. A decent strategy for a group that had been assembled ninety seconds ago.
But against Akira? It would not matter much.
He ducked under the first punch, caught the second attacker's collar, and threw him into the two coming from the left. Three of them went down in a tangle of limbs. The one from behind grabbed his shoulder.
Akira grabbed the hand on his shoulder without turning around and twisted. The student flipped over his back and hit the ground face-first. Akira's heel came down on the fifth student's instep, buckling his knee, and a backfist sent him sprawling.
Five more down.
Eight down total, thirty-five to go.
From the treeline, Momo watched through her visor. Her suit's display showed real-time data from her drones — Akira's movement speed, the timing between his strikes, and how he shifted weight before each engagement. She was cataloguing everything.
He's not using fire. Not even flame-enhanced strikes. He's running on pure physical ability with Overdrive boosting his base stats. Average takedown time: 1.2 seconds per student. Response delay after a flanking attack: 0.3 seconds.
She stored the information. That 0.3-second window was the key.
A girl from the Support department came at him, swinging a wrench she had pulled from her toolkit. She was crying as she swung. The wrench arced toward his head. Akira leaned back just enough to let it pass, then caught her by the backpack strap and set her down on the ground behind him, gently, like he was moving a child out of a crosswalk.
She sat there in the ash, wrench still in hand, blinking.
"What just happened?" she whispered.
Nine.
A cluster of General Studies kids tried a different approach. They didn't charge head-on. Instead, seven of them circled Akira, spreading out, trying to come from every angle at once. It was the smartest thing anyone in wave one had done so far. Surround him. Don't give him a single direction to focus on. Attack simultaneously.
They rushed in together. All seven at once.
Akira moved through them like a ghost. A sidestep here, a duck there, always moving, always just out of reach. When they swung, he wasn't where they aimed. When they grabbed, their hands grabbed nothing but air. He wove between them, and every time he passed a student, something happened. A tap on the back of the head, a nudge to the knee that buckled it, a gentle shoulder check that sent someone stumbling into someone else.
Seven students went down in four seconds without Akira ever planting his feet.
Sixteen down.
A Business class boy read the situation better than most. He didn't charge blindly. He waited for Akira to finish with the circle group, then came in from behind with a tackle aimed at his waist.
A great plan, in a normal fight, it would have worked. Akira felt him coming without turning around. He simply dropped his weight at the last second, and the boy's arms closed around nothing but air as Akira ducked under the tackle. Before the kid could recover, Akira was behind him and landed a single chop to the back of the neck.
Seventeen.
Three girls from the Business department followed, one carrying a makeshift shield she had made from drone debris and her own belt, the other two flanking. Akira walked toward them. The shield bearer planted her feet and braced. Akira placed one hand on the shield and pushed. The girl slid backward across the scorched earth, her shoes leaving grooves in the ash, and collided with her two flankers. All three went down.
Twenty.
The remaining twenty-three students had slowed. The ones at the back of the charge had seen what happened to the ones at the front, and their legs weren't moving the way their brains wanted them to. Fear was setting in. The initial courage from Momo's speech was burning off, replaced by the reality of what they were facing.
Akira stood in the center of the clearing with bodies scattered around him as blue flames danced across his skin.
A boy with trembling legs stepped forward from the crowd. He was small, was from General Studies. No combat training, no athletic build, no weapon. He had nothing.
But he stepped forward anyway.
"I'm not going to beat you," the boy said, his voice shaking. "But I'm not running either."
But then he looked up with tears in his eyes.
"BECAUSE I TOO AM A HERO!!!!"
Akira smiled and said, "Show me the kind of hero you are."
Then the boy charged, throwing the worst punch Akira had ever seen. Akira caught his fist gently, twisted it just enough to spin the boy around, and pushed him to the ground.
But the kid got up again and rushed in again while yelling.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
He kept launching punches, and Akira kept blocking.
Soon, the student got tired and knelt in front of Akira, looking down.
Akira walked past him, but not before patting his shoulder.
"I see you.... Hero."
Hearing this, the student smiled and went down satisfied.
Seeing the rest of the remaining students of the first wave, they yelled.
"WE ARE HEROES!!!!!" And charged at Akira, how smiled at them.
"Come at me, HEROES!!!!!" Akira yelled back at them.
***
Minutes later, it was done.
Akira stood in the centre of it all. Forty-three students eliminated, none of them was able to leave a scratch on Akira's body.
The arena went wild. People were standing on their seats, grabbing strangers by the shoulders, screaming at screens. Everything was so peak.
From the students standing tall against Akira, even though they were weak, to Akira dominating them alone.
#SymbolOfFear was trending before the last drone finished its extraction.
Present Mic's voice cracked through the speakers. "FORTY-THREE STUDENTS!! FORTY-THREE!! AND HE DIDN'T USE HIS RED FLAME!! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AKIRA SHUZENJI JUST DISMANTLED AN ENTIRE ARMY WITH HIS BARE HANDS!! AND EVEN WHEN FACED WITH SUCH A FORMIDABLE OPPONENT, THE NON-HERO COUSE STUDENTS FOUGHT TILL THEIR LAST BREATH! NOW THAT IS A TRUE HERO!!"
Aizawa spoke calmly, but even his voice carried weight. "He controlled the pace of every engagement and never let more than three students reach him at the same time."
He looked toward the treeline at the remaining students, who were the hero course fighters and a couple of wildcards, the heavy hitters who had been watching.
Twenty-four students remaining.
Akira rolled his shoulders.
"Next."
In the VIP box, Honoka was cheering. "THAT'S MY BOY!!"
Mei was nodding, arms crossed. "He's using everything I taught him."
Jian was leaning against the window, grinning. "He reminds me of Old Man Ming in his prime."
Yu was recording everything. "The recruitment agencies are going to fight over this footage."
Reika was quiet. She was watching her daughter, watching Momo track data, adjust her plan, and prepare for wave two. Come on, baby, she thought. Show them what you've got, too.
Back on the battlefield, the wave one survivors were being airlifted out. Soon it was just Akira again, standing in the centre, blue flames humming across his skin. And at the edges, twenty-four students.
Momo's voice came through her drone speakers.
"Wave two, get ready."
The heavy hitters and the wildcards stepped forward.
Akira watched them come. Now the fun begins.
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IT BEGANS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pretty fire right??? Let me know!
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