Chapter Text
Izuku was awake before his alarm.
That wasn’t unusual. He tended to surface from sleep gradually, awareness creeping in before his eyes ever opened. The dorm was quiet in that early-morning way UA had, before showers started running and doors began opening and the day began to announce itself.
He sat up, stretched, and rubbed his face, then pulled on a hoodie. His room was small but orderly, notes stacked neatly on the desk, training clothes folded over the back of the chair.
Feo Ul hovered near the window, dim in the pale light, humming to themself as they watched the sky lighten. Izuku was halfway through lacing his shoes when there was a knock at the door. Not loud, but purposeful. Feo Ul’s head snapped toward it first. “Oho?” they chirped, drifting higher. “A visitor at dawn? How scandalous.”
Izuku blinked. “It’s six-thirty.”
“Exactly,” Feo Ul replied gravely.
He frowned at the clock, then crossed the room and opened the door. Eijiro Kirishima stood in the hallway, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, red hair sticking up in every direction. He was smiling a nervous smile. Even then, there was a tight focus in his posture, like he’d already committed to something and just needed to follow through.
“Oh,” Izuku said quietly. “Hey.”
“Morning,” Kirishima said. “Uh. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Feo Ul leaned around Izuku’s shoulder, peering at Kirishima with open curiosity. “Of course he can,” they whispered loudly, before turning to whisper at Izuku at the same volume. “He looks like he is about to confess to a crime or a crush.”
Izuku flushed. “Feo—”
Kirishima blinked, then gave Feo Ul an awkward little wave. “Morning.”
Izuku stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him, Feo Ul with him, practically vibrating. “What’s up?”
Kirishima took a breath. “I’ll just say it.”
Feo Ul clasped their hands dramatically.
“I like you,” Kirishima said. Then, just as quickly, “And Katsuki. I’m not confused about that part, and I’m not trying to figure myself out as I go. I mean it.”
There was half a second of silence. Then it shattered. “I KNEW IT!” Feo Ul squealed, spinning in midair. “Oh, my sweet sapling, you are irresistible!”
Izuku covered his face. “Feo—”
Kirishima went red but held his ground.
“I know you’re already together,” Kirishima continued, powering through. “With Bakugo and Uraraka. I’m not trying to wedge myself in or mess with what you’ve got.” He met Izuku’s eyes, steady. “I just think I fit. And I think it’s worth asking instead of pretending I don’t.”
Feo Ul had drifted closer to Kirishima now, inspecting him with exaggerated seriousness.
“You are bold,” they declared. “We approve of bold.” Izuku shot them a look. “What?” Feo Ul said, scandalized. “You want us to be demure about this?”
“Have you talked to Katsuki yet?” Izuku asked, trying to steer things back on track.
“Not yet,” Kirishima said. “I wanted to talk to you first. You’re better at… the talking part.”
Feo Ul beamed. “This is true.”
Izuku almost smiled despite himself. “I don’t want to make decisions for anyone,” he said slowly. “But I appreciate you coming to me like this.”
Kirishima nodded. “So… would you be willing to talk to them with me?”
Izuku exhaled, then nodded. “Yeah. I would.”
Feo Ul clapped, a sharp, delighted sound in the quiet hallway.
“Very well!” they declared. “Let us expand the circle!” They followed the two boys down the hall, practically shimmering with excitement. When Katsuki opened his door and glared at them all, Feo Ul was already hovering over his shoulder. “Oh, this will be good,” they murmured.
Kirishima didn’t hesitate. “I want to join you. All of you. If that’s something you’d want.”
Katsuki stared at him for a long second. Then he snorted. “You’re basically part of the ‘cule already, might as well make it official.”
“Yeah,” Kirishima said. “I know.”
Katsuki looked at Izuku. “You good with this?”
Izuku nodded. “Yeah. I am.”
Feo Ul gasped dramatically. “He said yes.”
“I heard him,” Katsuki snapped, halfheartedly.
“Ochako’s gotta be on board,” Katsuki added.
“Of course,” Kirishima said immediately.
“Good.” Katsuki shrugged. “Then yeah. I’m in.”
Feo Ul shrieked with delight.
“ANOTHER!” they cried, looping joyfully through the air. “Our darling grows ever more beloved!”
“Feo,” Izuku groaned.
Kirishima blinked. “Does it always do that?”
“Yes,” Katsuki said flatly.
Feo Ul bristled in mock rage. “IT!?”
***
Breakfast was louder than usual. Ochako listened to the explanation with one brow raised, then smiled. “Oh,” she said. “That explains it.”
Katsuki scowled. “You’re not mad? He’d only be dating me and Izu.”
“Why would I be?” Ochako said. “Eijiro’s great. And it’s not like this came out of nowhere. I’ve known he had a thing for you since the beach.” She smirked. “He tripped like three times ‘cause he was staring at your ass.”
Izuku laughed. Katsuki blushed and stared at the wall.
Kirishima covered his face. “I hate all of you.”
“So…?” he tried again.
“Yeah,” Ochako said, setting her spoon down. “You’re in.” Then she squinted at the table. “But wow, this,” she said, gesturing to the three of them, “is way too much testosterone. We need a girlfriend, you guys. Maybe two.”
Feo Ul froze midair.
“Oh,” they said slowly. “Yes. Yes, you do.”
Izuku buried his face in his hands as Katsuki smirked and Kirishima grinned.
***
Aizawa was waiting for them as they filed into the 1-A hall Monday morning, looking like he’d slept exactly where he stood.
“Alright,” he said flatly. “Costumes are optional. You’ve had enough foundational sessions to know what works and what doesn’t. If your design isn’t conducive to rescue work, don’t wear it.”
A few students straightened automatically.
“That alone should tell you that today’s blocked out for rescue training,” he continued, stepping out of his sleeping bag and stretching with an audible pop of joints. “We’re taking a bus to a satellite facility on campus. About twenty minutes out. We leave in ten.”
He scanned them once, tired eyes sharp. “All Might and another instructor will meet us there. Move.”
The room exploded into motion.
***
The bus ride was louder than it had any right to be at eight in the morning.
Kaminari had already claimed the back row. Mina was half out of her seat, twisting around to talk to three different people at once. Sero was examining the emergency exit with interest that made several classmates uneasy.
Up front, Iida sat ramrod straight, hands on his knees, posture immaculate.
He looked like the bus required discipline.
The back left section, however, did not.
Kirishima had taken the window seat. Izuku ended up beside him without protest, Kirishima’s arm draped around his shoulders in an easy, unselfconscious way that suggested this had already normalized overnight.
Izuku leaned into it without thinking.
Feo Ul shimmered once, then shrank down and curled comfortably into Izuku’s curls, tiny fingers tangling in green hair as if it were a nest made just for them.
Across the aisle, Ochako had claimed a seat next to Katsuki—but she was twisted sideways, her back against his shoulder. Her legs were stretched across Izuku and Kirishima’s laps like it was the most natural arrangement in the world.
Katsuki had stiffened at first, then he’d relaxed. It looked comfortable.
Iida noticed. Of course he noticed.
His glasses flashed as he turned to stare.
Izuku caught the glare first. “Is something wrong, Iida?”
Iida adjusted his glasses sharply. “Public displays of affection during official transport are… unnecessary.”
Mina leaned forward from two rows back. “Oh my god, let them live!”
“We’re just sitting,” Kirishima said, grinning.
“Your arm is around Midoriya’s shoulders, and Uraraka’s legs are across your laps!” Iida countered.
Ochako tilted her head sweetly. “That sounds like a you problem.”
Katsuki snorted.
Iida went red. “This is a professional training exercise!”
Kaminari couldn’t help himself. “No! This is Patrick!”
Izuku tried not to laugh. Failed.
Across the aisle, Tsuyu watched with mild interest.
“Midoriya,” she said evenly. “Your quirk is weird.”
Izuku blinked. “Uh—”
“You have the fairy,” she continued calmly. “You switch powers mid-fight. And you don’t explain any of it.”
“That’s— I mean—” Izuku floundered.
Kirishima squeezed his shoulder. “It’s a cool kind of weird, man.”
Tsuyu hummed once. “Yes. Cool-weird.”
She paused, eyes drifting lazily over the four of them tangled together in the seats.
“Midoriya, I tend to be blunt,” she said. “I say what I think.”
Izuku braced instinctively.
“You guys… you’re hot.”
Silence. Then, Izuku made a strangled noise. Ochako burst out laughing. Kirishima threw his head back. “HA! See? I told you!” Katsuki went completely still, then turned to stare very hard out the window, like the passing trees had personally offended him.
Tsuyu blinked once. “Why is everyone shocked? I said so the first night. And now Kirishima joined in.” From the front of the bus, Iida made a sharp, scandalized sound. Tsuyu ignored him. “You could grate cheese on his abs,” she added thoughtfully. The polycule sat stunned for a moment, before bursting out laughing again.
The bus rolled on, sunlight flickering across their faces as the campus buildings thinned and the training sectors opened up beyond the main complex.
***
The doors folded open with a hydraulic hiss. Students spilled out into the cool morning air, chatter rising and bouncing off reinforced concrete.
Izuku stepped down last from his row, adjusting the strap of his bag as his shoes hit pavement. Feo Ul stretched lazily from where they’d been curled in his hair, then hovered just above his shoulder, eyes already scanning the horizon.
Ahead of them, the structure dominated the landscape.
It didn’t look like a single building. It looked like multiple environments sealed under one enormous dome of layered steel and glass. Panels reflected the sky in distorted fragments. Satellite structures ringed the perimeter like auxiliary organs.
Ochako stopped walking. “Whoa.” She took a few quick steps forward, craning her neck. “It’s huge. It’s like, ridiculously huge.”
Kirishima let out a low whistle. “That’s a whole city in there.”
Katsuki crossed his arms. “Looks like a playground.”
Iida stepped ahead of the group, posture snapping to attention. “Form up! This is a training site, not a sightseeing excursion! Standing around gawking is not how students of UA University should convey themselves.” A few students shuffled automatically.
Izuku stepped forward before it could solidify into formation. “Iida.” The tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried. Iida paused mid-gesture. “I understand that you are attempting to organize things, but I’m class rep,” Izuku said evenly. “And we haven’t started yet. Stop overstepping your role. Let them breathe.”
The words weren’t loud, but they were firm. A brief silence followed.
Iida adjusted his glasses. “…Understood,” he said stiffly, stepping back.
Mina grinned. “Dang, Midoriya.”
Kirishima nudged Katsuki. “Leadership looks good on him.”
Katsuki huffed. “Tch.” Then, “Yeah, it’s kind of hot.”
Ochako made a delighted noise.
Izuku’s ears went red instantly. “Kacchan—”
Feo Ul preened midair. “They have excellent taste, my precious Sapling.”
***
Inside, at the top of a large set of stairs, stood a figure in a puffy stylized space-suit, helmet smooth and reflective. Ochako’s hands flew to her face. “No way.” Her voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “It’s the Space Hero: Thirteen! They’re my absolute favorite!”
Thirteen raised one gloved hand in greeting. “Welcome,” their voice carried clearly despite the helmet, warm and even.
Aizawa gave a minimal nod. “They’re yours.” The scruffy teacher looked around, confused. “Where’s All Might?”
Thirteen inclined their head. “He was held up in court. He’ll be here for the latter half of the session.” They turned to the assembled students. “I have a handful of points I want to get across to you all today. I’ll explain them, but seeing them is the best way to understand them. Now, today you’ll be learning rescue operations in controlled disaster zones. Combat is one thing. Rescue is another.” The class quieted. “Many quirks,” Thirteen continued, “are capable of causing lethal harm if used without restraint. Mine is among them. I can create a black hole that will disintegrate matter down to the molecular level.”
A ripple moved through the students. Even Bakugo went still. Thirteen gestured toward the dome behind them. “This facility was designed to simulate a range of environmental catastrophes. Flood. Fire. Landslide. Structural collapse.” They stepped aside slightly. “And it is called the Unforeseen Simulation Joint.” The name settled over the class.
Izuku felt Feo Ul stiffen midair. Not dramatically. Just enough. Their small hands tightened slightly where they hovered near his collar. The air felt… dense. Feo Ul tilted their head.
“Izuku,” they murmured softly.
He glanced sideways. “What?”
They didn’t answer immediately.
***
Feo Ul heard him, but was trying to piece together what they were sensing… it was familiar, but felt dirty, shredded and torn. Then it hit them. Izazu’s aether felt this way whenever he would travel along the Aetheryte Network. This feeling was similar, but wrong. Feo Ul felt their eyes drawn to the central plaza.
"Hey, what's that!" Kaminari called "Is that part of the lesson?"
Feo Ul turned back to the class. "No, Lightning Child. This is an invasion." Feo Ul’s words had barely settled before the air over the central plaza opened.
A vertical seam split the space beneath the dome, black mist spilling downward in heavy coils. It pooled against the concrete and deepened, thickening until the darkness took shape.
A tall, pale man covered in grasping hands like some macabre twist on a hero costume stepped through first, fingers already twitching at his neck, the hand across his face shifting slightly as he rolled his shoulders. Beside him lumbered something enormous, skin as black as oil, eyes empty and vacant, with an exposed brain and a beak full of sharp teeth.
Then the rest followed.
Villains poured out around them in steady waves, boots striking stone, weapons visible, spreading outward across the plaza as the mist continued to churn behind them. When the last one stepped through, the column of smoke folded inward on itself, collapsing and condensing until only a tall, smoke-wreathed figure remained where the tear had been. Vapor curled constantly around his frame, obscuring any clear outline. For a brief moment, the glint of a metallic neck brace caught the light through the haze.
“Curious,” the smoky figure said, voice deep and resonant. “Our stolen schedule indicated that All Might would be instructing this session.”
The man covered in hands scratched at his neck with an increased fervor. “We went through all that trouble,” he muttered angrily, “and he’s not even here?” His gaze drifted lazily over the students. “That’s annoying.” He took a slow step forward. “I wonder,” he added, voice dripping with malice, “if killing a few of them would bring him out.”
At the top of the massive staircase, Aizawa’s scarf shuffled as he stepped forward. “Villains,” he said flatly. “They must be the ones who caused the riot with the newshounds last week.”
“Wait—wait—” Kaminari’s voice pitched higher than usual. “Those are actual villains?” His gaze snapped between the advancing figures and Aizawa at the top of the stairs. “This isn’t part of the lesson, right? Like, this isn’t some ultra-realistic immersion thing?”
“No,” Thirteen said quietly. The word landed heavy a weight they were all realizing the enormity of.
Momo stepped forward despite herself, posture straight even as her fingers tightened at her sides. “Why aren’t the alarms going off?” Several students turned instinctively toward the perimeter walls of the dome where emergency strobes should have begun flashing red.
Nothing.
Thirteen lifted one gauntleted hand. Small recessed panels along the wrist glowed faintly as they pressed a sequence of keys along the armored surface. “I’ve been attempting manual override,” Thirteen said, voice tightening beneath the modulation. “Primary and secondary emergency triggers.” They pressed again. Nothing responded. “No system acknowledgement,” they admitted.
A ripple moved through the class. Kirishima’s jaw set. Sero shifted his weight, tape already twitching at his elbows. Ochako’s earlier excitement had drained from her face entirely. Even Bakugo had gone still, eyes locked on the plaza below with sharp, measuring focus.
Todoroki hadn’t moved. He stood with his hands at his sides, gaze fixed forward, as if committing every variable to memory. “They selected this location deliberately,” he said at last, voice calm and even. “It’s isolated from the main campus. Minimal faculty presence. A scheduled class with All Might publicly listed as instructor.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the smoke-wreathed figure. “They stole the schedule. They knew exactly where we would be.”
Kaminari swallowed hard. “So they just… walked in?”
“They have a warp quirk, getting in was no problem,” Todoroki replied. “And they likely have someone capable of disrupting electronic signals and communications.”
Kaminari fumbled for his communicator. “I’ll check,” he called, pressing it to his ear. A piercing burst of feedback shrieked through the speaker. He yelped and jerked it away, nearly dropping it. “Yeah,” he said, grimacing. “We’re jammed.”
Mina forced a bright grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “F- folks, uh... a recommendation student!” she joked, stumbling over her words.
No one laughed.
Aizawa’s gaze swept the plaza in a single, efficient pass. Villain count. Spacing. The massive figure standing beside Shigaraki. The students behind him. He made the decision in less than a second. “Thirteen,” he said, voice low but carrying. “Get the students out. Find an opening and move.”
Thirteen hesitated only briefly before nodding. “Understood.”
Izuku stepped forward before he could stop himself. “Sensei—” Aizawa didn’t look back. “You can’t fight all of them alone,” Izuku said quickly, forcing his thoughts into order. “You’re strongest in controlled engagements. Ambush. Suppression. This is attrition.” A few heads turned toward him, but he pressed on. “They’re spread out. They have numbers. And at least one warp-capable support. If you burn through stamina now—”
Aizawa turned his head just enough for one eye to fix on him beneath the curtain of hair. “A hero,” he said evenly, “can’t be a one-trick pony.” He reached into the folds and layers of his capture weapon and slid on his goggles in one practiced motion, the tinted lenses snapping into place and obscuring his eyes. The expression beneath them vanished, unreadable. “Watch closely.”
The capture weapon around his shoulders snapped outward like a living thing. He moved before anyone could say another word. One leap carried him down the remaining steps, scarf unfurling in a fluid arc as he descended toward the nearest cluster of villains. The first thug barely had time to register what was happening before the weapon cinched tight around his throat and drove him into the concrete.
Erasure activated. Quirks died mid-ignition. Aizawa landed, pivoted, and kept moving, every motion precise and calculated as he waded into the crowd.
The class watched Eraserhead carve through the mob.
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t posture. His scarf snapped and recoiled in clean arcs, dropping one villain after another. Quirks flared and died under his gaze. Every time someone thought they had an opening, they hit the ground instead.
Izuku’s mind tracked everything.
Angle of engagement. Villain spacing. Erasure timing. The way Aizawa kept moving so no one could flank him cleanly. He’s conserving motion, Izuku realized. Not power.
Still—
There were too many of them.
Thirteen stepped forward. “Students, move. Stay together.” No one argued this time.
They turned and began moving toward the massive entrance doors at the top of the platform. The reinforced panels loomed ahead of them, sunlight spilling faintly through the upper glass.
Some students moved stiffly. Others kept glancing back at the fight below. Kirishima’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had gone pale. Ochako hovered close to Izuku without quite touching him. Bakugo walked backward for three steps before forcing himself to turn.
Feo Ul stiffened. Their small form jerked upright near Izuku’s shoulder. “Izuku,” they said sharply. “It’s happening again—” The lights along the upper walls flickered. The reinforced blast doors in front of them slammed shut over the exit with a heavy, echoing clang.
Students cried out, stumbling back.
The floor darkened, black mist seeping upward through the seams in the concrete directly between them and the sealed exit. It rose in a thick column, then condensed. “Salutations,” a calm voice intoned. A tall, smoke-wreathed figure stood in their path, vapor curling lazily around his form, yellow eyes floating in the dark shroud. “We are the League of Villains.”
The mist shifted faintly around the metallic glint of a neck brace. “I understand our appearance is impolite. However, we have decided to invite ourselves to this haven of justice… to say hello.” The smoke thickened.
“And to extract All Might’s dying breath.”
There was half a second of stillness.
Then Sero moved.
Tape snapped from his elbows in twin lines, lashing forward in a tight spiral aimed straight at the smoke-wreathed figure’s torso. Sero severed the lines and caught the loose ends, bracing. Kaminari stepped in beside him, grabbed the tape from him, and released everything at once. A blinding surge tore up the strands — a violent column of blue-white current racing straight towards the villain’s center mass.
The smoke rippled.
A small portal swirled open within it.
On the far side of the platform, another portal bloomed just long enough for the tape to whip through and snap tight around a metal railing.
The full charge discharged into the steel. Electricity spiderwebbed along the bars in a violent flare, sparks snapping and hissing as the current tore across the structure. The metal rang under the load. Kaminari saw the redirection instantly and cut the flow before the feedback could rebound.
The crackling died.
The villain had not moved. “You live up to your school’s reputation,” he said calmly. “Truly. Golden eggs.” The vapor shifted faintly. “But be careful. You could easily end up hurting someone else by mistake.”
Thirteen stepped forward. “Students, behind me.” One fingertip cap on their glove flipped open with a sharp mechanical click. Darkness formed at the exposed tip as their quirk, Blackhole, activated. Air warped violently toward the singularity. Dust, broken concrete, tape, everything loose on the platform ahead of Thirteen tore free and spiraled inward.
The villain did not retreat. A portal opened in front of him. The pull shifted. The airflow twisted and another portal snapped open directly behind Thirteen.
The redirected singularity struck them full in the back.
The effect was immediate.
The reinforced outer layer of their suit shredded under their own quirk, material unraveling and breaking down as if eaten from existence. Hidden armor panels tore free and disintegrated midair. The force dragged at the fabric beneath, carving through layers in seconds.
Thirteen hit the platform hard as the singularity chewed across their back. The fingertip cap snapped shut. The vacuum collapsed. Silence slammed into the space it left behind.
Where the suit had been intact seconds earlier, it now hung in torn strips, the material around the impact zone reduced to ragged edges. Smoke curled faintly from the damage.
Thirteen did not rise.
The villain’s mist thickened. “I cannot allow you to escape,” he said evenly. The black vapor began to spread across the platform. “I will scatter you across this facility… to meet my comrades.”
The smoke surged forward.
“And your deaths.”
The students stood stunned as a massive wave of dark mist curled past them, the speed blowing some of them off of their feet. Iida, in a moment of clarity, grabbed his nearest classmates, and sped to the railings, holding on to them for dear life. Koda and Sato across the platform did the same, arms wrapped around the sturdy vertical posts of the safety rail.
The mist did not slow. Portals twisted open within it, swallowing whoever lost their footing. Mina vanished with a startled shout. Kaminari disappeared an instant later, the smoke snapping shut where he had stood. Hagakure dove toward Thirteen, hooking her arms beneath the injured hero’s shoulders and dragging them clear as a portal opened where their legs had been.
The pull intensified.
Izuku felt it like pressure behind his ribs. Feo Ul shrieked, tiny fingers digging into his hair. “Izuku!” The smoke surged up around his boots. A circle of darkness twisted open at his feet. He shifted without thinking, Red Mage answering.
Aether flooded his limbs, sharp and immediate. The rapier manifested in his hand as the world seemed to narrow to angles and distance. He pivoted and launched backward, clearing the forming portal in a single, tight arc. The space he had occupied collapsed into black an instant later. There was no railing to catch.
Only open air.
Izuku dropped.
For a split second, the fall was real.
Then aether flared through his legs, cushioning the descent as he redirected the momentum. He struck the lower staircase hard but controlled, knees bending to absorb the impact as a faint red shimmer dissipated beneath his boots.
Above him, the mist recoiled. The platform was chaos. A handful of students clung to the railing. Most were gone. Below, in the plaza, Eraserhead was still moving.
***
When he landed, he was not alone. Two villains turned at the impact. One snapped a chain outward in a fast horizontal arc. The other had both palms igniting with a sputtering flame, eyes widening at Izuku’s sudden arrival. Izuku moved inside the swing.
Aether flowed through him. He pivoted past the chain, rapier flashing out in a tight thrust that struck the man’s wrist. The chain fell slack, clattering across the concrete. The second attacker lunged, flames flaring brighter.
Izuku stepped forward instead of back.
Magic surged along the blade as he cut once across the man’s forearm. Not deep — just enough to disrupt the motion. The flame guttered and died as the attacker staggered. The chain wielder recovered faster than expected and threw himself bodily at Izuku. Too slow.
Izuku twisted aside, hooked a foot behind the man’s ankle, and redirected his momentum into the plaza floor. The thug hit hard, breath punching out of him.
The second villain tried to reignite his quirk.
Izuku didn’t give him the chance. “Verthunder.” Scarlet lightning cracked between them. The strike hit clean and the man dropped, twitching, smoke curling faintly from his clothes.
Eraserhead was still fighting. And now Izuku was in it.
***
The pale villain covered in hands noticed the green light.
It was brief. A sharp pulse near Eraserhead’s shoulder. Then it was gone.
But Eraserhead didn’t blink.
The pattern had been there. The subtle settling of hair. The faint reset between engagements. Then the flash.
And the reset stopped.
His fingers scraped harder at his neck.
“…What?”
His attention shifted fully to the student at the base of the stairs.
Green hair. Rapier. Then no rapier. Now robes and a glowing book. Now a sword and shield and plate mail. The fairy at his shoulder flickered first — color shifting — and the boy’s stance changed with it. Different posture. Different tempo. Different weapon in hand.
He struck with lightning. Then re-positioned like support. Then cut through a thug like a duelist. The fairy shifted color again. That was the tell. Every change began there. His scratching grew rougher. “One person,” he muttered, “shouldn’t be covering multiple roles. That’s not how it works.”
The student pivoted, blade flashing. The fairy shimmered again. Roles changed. Again.
“You’re not supposed to do that. That’s not fair.”
The student was interfering. He tilted his head slowly. “…I hate players like you.”
Eraserhead’s hair fell again. Longer this time. He felt it, there, the gap.
He launched forward, hands outstretched, fingers spread wide as he cleared the remaining distance in a low, predatory dash. All he needed was contact. The teacher was still mid-turn, back to him.
Perfect.
Except, it wasn’t.
The light flickered again, as blue-white steel flashed into place as he appeared out of no where. One instant he was several meters away. The next he stood directly between them. Shield raised.
The villain’s palm struck it, but his quirk did not answer. The surface beneath his fingers remained solid. No cracking. No disintegration. Nothing.
For a fraction of a second, confusion cut through the irritation. Then realization.
Eraserhead. His eyes snapped toward the teacher. Hair rising again. Quirk still active, still suppressing his. He clicked his tongue sharply and sprang backward before the scarf could catch him.
“So that’s how it is.” His gaze returned to the student — shield still up, stance locked, fairy glowing a different color now. “You hide behind him.” His fingers dug at his neck. “Fine.”
He didn’t look at the creature standing idly by. He didn’t need to. “Nomu. Take out Eraserhead.” The beast, Nomu, moved. It wasn’t just fast. It was instant.
***
One moment it stood beside the villain.
The next it was across the plaza, concrete cracking under its weight.
Eraserhead barely saw it coming. Erasure activated. Nomu’s forward momentum didn’t falter. It kept coming, it’s massive fist coming in for a low punch.
The scruffy professor barely managed to redirect the strike with his capture weapon wrapped tight around the Nomu’s forearm, boots skidding across concrete as the force still drove him back several meters.
Nomu’s second strike came faster.
Izuku intercepted the follow-up, shield up again, absorbing the shockwave as the impact boomed through the plaza. The force still threw him sideways, boots tearing grooves in the ground as he fought for footing.
Behind them, the warper appeared in a swirl of mist. “Shigaraki Tomura. One of the students has escaped the facility.”
The villain, Shigaraki’s, fingers dug into his neck. “…Of course they did. If you weren’t our way out, Kurogiri, I’d turn you to dust right now.” His eyes tracked the teacher again. The hair wasn’t lifting as steadily now. Shigaraki’s irritation sharpened into something more focused. “The game’s basically over, this run is dead. Wrap it up,” he said quietly.
Nomu’s third strike drove Eraserhead to one knee. The capture weapon was still wrapped tight around the creature’s arm, but the tension had shifted. What had begun as control was becoming resistance. Nomu swung wide.
Eraserhead ducked under it, but the motion cost him. His footing slipped for half a second, boots grinding against fractured concrete, and it cost him. Nomu slammed a fist down on Eraserhead, pinning him to the ground, before slamming his face into the stone.
Shigaraki paced, scratching his neck so hard, blood began to well up. “A student escaped. Heroes are probably on the way. All Might didn’t even make an appearance. It’s game over for sure.”
He glanced at the Nomu, the various villains unconscious in the plaza and the looming threat of heroic intervention.
“Let’s go.”
Then he saw movement at the edge of the flood zone. A girl hauling herself from the water, green hair slicked back, eyes scanning the chaos. Two other students behind her. Alive. Shigaraki’s fingers dug into his neck. He tilted his head. “…Actually.” A faint smile pulled at his mouth beneath the hand on his face. “Let’s leave a couple of dead students for All Might to find.”
He broke into a sprint toward them.
***
The world had narrowed to motion, to reaction instead of action.
Izuku didn’t have the luxury of watching the whole battlefield anymore. He was reacting — intercepting stray blows, rotating between Red Mage, Scholar, and Paladin when needed, keeping Nomu’s shockwaves from throwing him off balance.
Stay upright. Stay useful. Stay alive. Then he saw her.
Tsuyu swimming across the flood zone. She hauled herself clear of the lake, water streaming from her sleeves. Mineta and Kaminari stumbled behind her, disoriented but moving.
And Shigaraki was sprinting straight at them.
Not at Eraserhead. Not at him. At Tsu.
Izuku didn’t think. He ran. The distance was wrong. Too far. He wouldn’t make it.
Faster.
His boots hammered against broken concrete.
Faster!
Aether surged under his skin, unstable, sharp at the edges.
FASTER!
Something answered.
Black and violet light flared around him in a violent burst.
The air seemed to snap.
Izuku vanished from where he was running—
—and reappeared mid-arc, body already committed to the flying kick aimed at the villain attempting to kill his classmate.
His heel slammed into Shigaraki’s ribs just as those reaching fingers stretched toward Tsuyu’s collar. The impact thundered across the plaza. Shigaraki’s body folded around the kick, breath blasting out of him as he was launched sideways, skidding across fractured concrete.
The hand on his face tore loose and clattered across the ground.
For half a second, everything paused.
Nomu leapt away from Eraserhead, leaving his broken body there to catch his master before he could get anymore injured.
Izuku landed in a low crouch between Tsuyu and the villain, black, silver and green armor settling into place around him like it had always been there.
Black lacquered plates trimmed in silver. Green accents pulsing faintly at the seams. A half-mask covered his mouth and nose, fabric dark and close-fitting. In each hand, an oversized kunai gleamed.
Tsuyu blinked behind him. “Midoriya—?”
He didn’t answer.
Villains were already converging.
Izuku’s hands moved through a sequence of hand-signs, mudra, before his conscious mind caught up. Fire answered. A massive frog manifested beneath him in a burst of smoke and embers, mouth opening wide as it exhaled a sweeping cone of flame across the advancing thugs.
Heat rolled outward in a punishing wave.
The front line scattered, screaming, driven back by the sudden wall of fire.
Izuku rose slowly from his crouch, twin blades angled downward.
Shigaraki was pushing himself upright, coughing, eyes wide with something that wasn’t pain.
It was fury.
Shigaraki staggered upright, coughing, eyes wide and furious. “Nomu!” he screamed. “Kill him! Kill the cheater!” Nomu moved. There was no wind-up. No warning.
One moment it was beside Shigaraki.
The next its fist filled Izuku’s vision.
The strike connected cleanly with his side.
The sound was wrong, deep and concussive, and Izuku felt the impact before he understood it. The world inverted as he was launched backward, body tearing through the air and slamming into the concrete wall at the base of the stairs hard enough to spiderweb the surface.
The breath left him, and his vision went black.
He hit the ground and did not rise.
***
Across the facility, three figures burst from the conflagration zone entrance.
Katsuki. Ochako. Eijiro.
They arrived in time to see Izuku crumple.
Feo Ul screamed.
The sound was not small. It tore across the plaza like glass shattering. Aether detonated outward from their tiny form in a violent shockwave that flattened dust and drove lesser villains to their knees. The fairy’s body vanished, brilliant light blazing, revealing a fifteen-foot figure stood where the familiar had been.
Flowing lavender robes, wings of autumn red and orange. Glowing ethereal staff. Eyes incandescent with rage.
Nomu had already turned back toward its target.
Feo Ul struck first.
Their staff swung low and hard, arcing upward. It connected with a violent, meaty thwack, and Nomu’s lower torso dropped to its knees as its upper half was torn free and hurled backward across the facility in a streak of shattered concrete and pulverized metal. The severed mass tumbled, already knitting itself back together mid-flight.
Behind Feo Ul, something else was happening.
The aetherwave released by Feo Ul changed something in Katsuki, Ochako and Eijiro.
Light exploded around them.
Katsuki staggered, then straightened as armored gauntlets formed along his forearms, and a red, green, and black suit of clothes wrapped tight around his frame. A simple silver circlet rested on his brow.
Eijiro roared as heavy plate manifested across his shoulders and chest, a massive greataxe forming in his grip, a heavy horned helmet settling on his head.
Ochako gasped as flowing Pink black and white robes settled around her, a planisphere blooming into existence in her hands, cards spiraling around its equator. A gorgeous hat, pointed and wide brimmed settled over her hair.
Aether pulsed from all three of them. Feo Ul felt it.
Then, they felt it, a stabbing pain in their chest. The fairy king’s towering form flickered. Shrank. Light folded inward until Feo Ul hovered once more, small and dimming fast. They drifted toward Izuku.
Ochako knelt at his side, planisphere glowing as threads of starlit magic sank into his body. Fractures sealed. Bruising faded. Breath returned. He was already stirring.
“Izuku,” she whispered, focusing on the instinctual healing magic in her mind, revival magic. His eyes fluttered open.
Feo Ul hovered just above his face, swaying.
“I used the last of my reserves, sweet sapling,” they murmured, voice thin. “I… I am…”
They yawned.
And dissolved into a scatter of fading light. Izuku’s hand shot up instinctively, panicked. “Feo—”
Then the bond pulsed. Still there. Distant. But present.
He exhaled once, steadying himself. Slowly, he rose to his feet.
Ahead of them, Nomu slammed back into the plaza floor, fully restored, muscle knitting seamlessly as it stood once more, ready to continue its previous orders.
Katsuki cracked his knuckles, aether flaring around his fists.
Eijiro shifted his grip on the axe, eyes glowing red.
Ochako’s planisphere rotated, as constellations spun along the inside.
Izuku adjusted his stance, twin kunai angled forward.
The four of them stood together.
Nomu stepped toward them.
And this time, they were ready.