While the sun's rays were a gentle caress for the boy on the forgotten island, at U.A. Island, the morning was a precision instrument. By 8:00 AM, the massive fortress-city was a hive of activity. Thousands of the world's most gifted students emerged from high-tech dormitories, beginning their disciplined routines before heading toward the heart of the island: the sprawling, H-shaped towers of the U.A. Campus.
Among the faculty, one woman commanded attention with every step she took. Nemuri Kayama, known to the world as the R-Rated Hero: Midnight, was a pinnacle of professionalism hidden beneath a provocative exterior.
Her day began long before the students stirred. At exactly 5:00 AM, Midnight woke in the elegant, modern villa provided by the academy for its top-tier staff. She moved through her home with the grace of a predator, finishing her morning rituals with the efficiency that had kept her at the top of the hero rankings for years.
After completing her personal routine, she stood before her mirror to don her iconic attire. She adjusted the dark, skin-tight suit and the white leotard that served as the base of her hero costume. As she fastened her utility belt and checked the crimson tint of her glasses, she looked like a woman who could conquer any challenge.
After finalizing her look, Midnight stepped out into the crisp morning air. The faculty housing was conveniently located just behind the main campus, a short walk that allowed her to center herself before the chaos of the day. As the massive, iconic "H" of the U.A. buildings loomed over her, she let out a small, amused sigh. Even after all these years, she still found the architecture a bit much, but she couldn't deny its presence.
She swiped her ID at the gate, the high-tech sensors chirping a greeting as the impenetrable barriers shifted to let her pass. The walk to the main hall was lined with statues of legendary heroes—figures of power frozen in stone, their gazes a constant reminder of the weight U.A. carried in the Twin World.
As she walked, her mind drifted toward the lectures she would give today. Her subject was Modern History, a topic that felt more like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
The history of the Twin World was a chaotic narrative. It began in a prehistoric era of primal monsters, but the real shift happened when the world seemed to "clone" itself. A new, massive planet—the Blue Star—literally merged with their own Green Star. The South Pole of one connected to the Blue Sea of the other, creating a bridge between two realities. This merger brought the Red Line, the continent that encircled the Blue Star like a ring, and the Grand Line, a place of such tectonic and weather-related madness that it remained the most dangerous frontier in existence.
But the history Midnight found most fascinating—and most headache-inducing—was the evolution of power.
First, there were Quirks. Believed to be an evolutionary response to the ancient beasts of the Green Star, these were genetic inheritances. They were reliable, passed down through bloodlines, and usually awakened by age five. They were the tools humanity used to carve out a civilization in a world of monsters.
Then, there were the Devil Fruits.
The research was clear: Devil Fruits weren't just "powers"; they possessed a will of their own. Legend said the original inhabitants of the Blue Star ate these fruits to gain god-like abilities. When they migrated to the Green Star and intermingled, the powers followed. But unlike Quirks, a Devil Fruit power wasn't guaranteed to pass to a child.
"The Devil inside the fruit must acknowledge the child," Midnight whispered to herself, recalling the data.
If a parent with a Devil Fruit power had a child, the "Devil" evaluated the offspring's potential and Will. If the acknowledgement was between 10-40%, the child might get a flicker of power. Between 50-80%, they became a true powerhouse. But a 90-100% acknowledgement? That was rare. It meant the power itself had chosen the child as its true successor. If the "Devil
felt no spark in the offspring, it simply wouldn't pass on, leaving the child to either rely on their mother's Quirk or become a "Late Bloomer."
This was why the world was so volatile. Greed led people to the Blue Star in search of fruits, but the fruits were picky. You needed luck, but more importantly, you needed Will—a raw, spiritual force that very few truly awakened.
Knowledge is power," Midnight murmured, looking up at the towering glass of the campus. "But in a world where planets merge and the power you're born with has its own personality... knowledge is the only thing keeping us from falling back into the dark."
She tightened her grip on her bag. The Twin World was a beautiful, terrifying mess. And with the rise of villains seeking to exploit the bridge between the stars, U.A. wasn't just a school—it was the frontline.
As Nemuri entered the main corridor, her eyes brightened. "Hina-chan!" she called out, waving energetically.
A tall woman with a sharp, disciplined posture and bubblegum-pink hair turned around. Hina, an assistant teacher from the prestigious Marine Academy, waved back, though her expression remained stoic. Unlike the sprawling fortress of U.A., Hina's school was situated at the very gateway of the South Pole, guarding the primary entrance to the Blue Star.
"Hina doesn't really like your outfit, Nemuri-chan," Hina said flatly, her eyes trailing over Midnight's revealing hero costume.
"Oh, jealous as ever, Hina-chan!" Nemuri teased, resting a hand on her hip with a mischievous smirk.
Hina didn't take the bait. She was only at U.A. because the Vice-Principal had arranged an exchange program to broaden the horizons of the faculty. Both women were experts in history, but they viewed the Twin World through very different lenses. Hina looked iconic in her tailored red suit, draped with a heavy white Marine coat that bore the kanji for "Justice" on the back.
"Hey, Nemuri-chan," Hina said, her voice dropping into a more serious tone. "Hina is curious about something. When will your 3rd-year class perform the expedition again?"
Nemuri tapped her chin. "Oh, that? Probably another three or four years before they take their final exam and head toward the Grand Line. We have to make sure they won't just be monster food."
Hina sighed, crossing her arms. "Hina doesn't really get how your Hero Academy works. It feels so... disorganized compared to the Marine structure."
"Likewise," Nemuri laughed. "I don't really get how your Marine Academy operates. It's all 'yes sir, no sir' over there. But, Hina-chan—" Nemuri pointed a finger at the slim cigar Hina was about to light. "No smoking on the campus. Principal Nezu is very strict about the air quality."
Hina paused, the lighter halfway to the tip of her cigar. "Oh. Sorry. Hina forgot." She tucked the cigar back into her pocket, looking slightly annoyed.
As the two history teachers walked together toward the faculty lounge, the contrast between them was clear: one represented the flamboyant freedom of the Green Star's Heroes, and the other represented the iron-clad discipline of the Blue Star's Marines.
But despite their differences, both women felt the weight of the coming era. The world was changing, and the students they were training were about to face a future that no history book could have predicted.
They entered the building,heels clicking on the polished floor, unaware that the most powerful "Anomaly" the Twin World had ever seen was currently burping and falling asleep on a pile of monster bones thousands of miles away..
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To be continued