LEARNING
Inko Midoriya stared at the wall of code before her on the screen. Sighed. Hit enter. Izuku sat up, reached his arm the glass of water on the table, and swung it in a wide arc, knocking the glass to the floor.
Inko facepalmed, downed another cup of coffee, and turned back to her code. She had gone through it twelve times already, and every time she fixed a bug, two more snuck in while she wasn't looking.
"Screw it," Inko said. "I have no other choice."
She brought her prototype Izuku over to the testing chamber. It was a bare room, with only a table and a cup of water. She hit the power button on the back of Izuku's neck, sprinted out of the room, and called her insurance agent.
Izuku stood up. Walked forward. Slammed sixty-seven times into the far wall. Tripped over his own feet. Wiggled around. Flipped over backwards and stood on his hands. Walked back to the table. Ran into it, then bent his legs forwards, flipped himself upright, and walked on the table. Stopped at the cup. Bent down, pressing his chest against his knees. Examined the cup. Reached for it. Knocked his knuckles against the table. Reached again. Punched through the table. Grabbed a wooden splinter. Examined the splinter. Ate the splinter.
"Analysis complete. No water acquired. Recalculating machine learning parameters."
Izuku returned to the doorway. The floor opened, swallowing the broken table and raising up a new one.
Izuku walked forward. Slammed sixty-three times into the far wall. Turned his head backwards. Walked backwards to the table, bent his arms backwards, and reached for the cup. The cup shattered in their grasp.
Izuku's eyes narrowed. "Dissatisfactory results detected. Expanding selection of pursuable actions.
The Midoriya residence shuddered as an explosion rocked the underground lab. Inko glanced down at the smoke wafting from the basement and asked her insurance agent, "Does my insurance plan also cover for plasma damage?"
Present Day
Izuku Midoriya walked face-first into the wall of his classroom. Backed up. Walked forward again.
Present Mic scratched his head and asked, "Is he having a stroke?"
Bakugo scoffed. "Give it a few minutes. It'll either become a master cellist or burn down the whole school."
Present Mic nervously laughed. "You were kidding about the burning down the school part, right?"
Bakugo stared at him. Unnerved, Present Mic asked again, "You were kidding… right?"
Midoriya's arm lit up. A lance of plasma swept across the ceiling, sending ash raining down on his classmates. Izuku grabbed a desk chair, ripped it in half, and ate the twisted shards of plastic and metal.
Present Mic went over to his intercom and paged Nezu. "About the school's insurance plan… any chance we could get them to replace the teacher's lounge?"
The school evacuated to a nearby park. Munching on popcorn, everyone watched the bright green fireworks. Then, as the fires died down, a beautiful sonata echoed from the husk of a classroom.
498
Machine learning is a lot more destructive when you have a plasma-wielding Izuku running through ALL the possibilities.