The boy had no idea what was happening. Here was some teenage girl screaming at the top of her lungs as she grasped the edge of her white vanity. A girl cowered just a hair shorter than him with flowing black hair that swam down to her hips. She had a thick, southern American accent that he had a tough time deciphering. The boy stood much more curious than worried about the girl whose flushed face yelled out terse questions.

All he knew was that he was in a girl's room in some small house in the middle of an otherwise quiet neighborhood.

"Who are you? How in sam hill did you get here?" Moxie asked. Brushing her spindly finger on the wooden handle of her white brush, she grabbed it and pointed it like a flamethrower right at the boy.

"Relax, darling. I don't bite," The boy said with a velvet voice that dripped like honey on the tip of his tongue. "Unless requested to."

"What are you? A ghost? A force ghost?"

The boy ruffled his blonde hair and narrowed his emerald eyes. "A what?"

"You're a demon aren't you?" Moxie asked. She clutched the rosary that was underneath the red crystal and thrusted it as far as the cocoa string would allow. "A demon sent from hell to invade my soul! No, wait! You're Lucifer! No, a vampire!"

"You know what? Maybe I am," The boy said with a playful tone. He grabbed the edge of the black robe around him and swished it in front of him to obscure the bottom half of his face. "Maybe I am a vampire. Here...to take your blood!"

Moxie screeched and reached down into the open dresser drawer behind her. When she stood back up, she held a clove of garlic. "Back, Satan!"

She flung the garlic at him. The garlic ball spun through the air towards the boy. He did nothing as the clove reached his chest.

Only to fly right through him.

The garlic smacked the pink wall. With a plop, the clove thud onto the hardwood floor.

They both stared down at the garlic. The boy placed his hand on his chest. Only the barking of a dog outside could be heard. The twinkling of the city skyline though the window behind Moxie blinked with the occasional helicopter light zooming past.

"That," the boy said. "Is a new wrinkle."

Moxie decided that this was a simple fluke. Yes, it had to be a glitch of some kind! She reached down into her drawer and grabbed a handful of makeup products. With a shriek, she flung them forward. Tubes of mascara and compact mirrors flew across the space towards the boy. Each one passed right through him as if he was made of air.

"Get back, Satan," she shouted.

Just as a lipstick grazed through the boy's sullen cheek, he sighed and raised up his palms. "You know, I would like a better welcome than this."

Finally, as if a last resort, Moxie reached down towards her bed. Grabbing a pillow, she stuffed her arm into the plush cotton. When she removed her hand, a pistol appeared right in her grip. She pointed upright at the boy and cocked back the hammer.

"Haven't we already established that this won't help you," The boy said in an airy tone. "And why do you have a gun?

"Why are you in my room?" Moxie asked. "When someone comes in here, you're in big trouble."

"And what will they do?" The boy said. He braved a step forward underneath the golden chandelier that made the boy bathe in tungsten light. A slightly better focus on him, Moxie noticed the odd school uniform underneath the robe that sashayed around the boy. His nose slightly upturnt, his smooth face held a calm, even friendly expression as he traced a finger over the green tie draped around his neck.

"Who...just who are you?" Moxie asked.

"I am a servant of my Creator," The boy said. He waved his hands with the aura of a Shakespearean orator. "The ethereal being that will return me back to my home. The one that has created our world and has bridged the gap into this one. The one who will channel the energy I capture and save me from eternal damnation!"

He raised up both his arms and gazed at the ceiling like he was looking into God's eyes. Moxie's grip shook on her gun.

Silence.

"Huh?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders and faced Moxie again. "I don't know. He just told me to say that."

Moxie, realizing this boy appeared to be much less a threat and more of an annoyance, switched the safety back on the pistol and placed it with the precision of a surgeon onto her vanity. As she turned, she caught a glint of the red crystal underneath her rosary. She picked it up and rolled it over the pad of her thumb. The cool gem remained inert except for a tiny light that shined in the center of it. It was as if somebody had switched it on.

"Ah," The boy said. At this point, he stood just an arm's length in front of her. "Now you're piecing it together."

Moxie looked back up and gasped at the closer distance. The boy appeared just as solid as anybody else. And yet, when she took one more tube of lip balm, she flicked it in an unenthusiastic fashion at his head. Again, the tube phased right through his eyes. A quiet hum sang out from the small intrusion through his face and then dissipated.

She locked gazes with the boy. Deep into his eyes, she had no idea what to do. This teenaged boy had not done anything terrible yet. He seemed completely harmless, not capable of hurting a fly. In fact, his innocent, yet playful attitude reminded her of the small puppy golden retrievers that would rub themselves in the muck of the bayou. What was his purpose in her room? It had to do with the crystal, she had figured that much.

Despite that, the boy appeared to be just as interested in her, and he flashed a minuscule grin at her. The girl seemed freaked out, understandably so. However, she was the new owner of the crystal, and there was no reason that they could not get along. In fact, she could actively help him in his quest.

The two just examined each other like a painting in a museum. Just to confirm her suspicions, Moxie reached her arm out and outstretched her hand towards the center of the boy's chest. Her fingers phased right through him. When she withdrew, she clasped her hands together and felt another wave of heat burn at her face.

"Are you...from another...?"

"I am," he said. "And I'm here because my Creator never finished my story."

"Never finished?" Moxie asked in a reticent tone. "The creator?

"By never finished, I mean he got bored." The boy crossed his arms. "Wasn't interested in finishing it anymore. Now, I get to find my way to return home. And I get to do it with you, the wielder of my crystal."

Moxie only had more questions burgeoning in her heart. And yet, she could not fathom the idea of another being from another dimension. She breathed out, her mouth still as agape as the open window behind her. The breeze brushed her hair, and she pinched at a few stray strands that brushed over her face.

"Who...are you?"

The boy uncrossed his arms and grinned. "My name is Alistair Leonhardt. And I'm here to finish my story."

Drake had noticed one or two things over the past evening.

One, Blake Marseilles talked. A lot. Even as they sat together in the new classroom that was their second period, Blake yammered on about pretty much anything he imagined. He had basically learned the entire boy's life story the night before. However, once he was about to say something about what his parents did for a living, James had slammed his hands on the door and screamed at them for being to loud. Apparently, his room was right next to his. Blake took that as a sign to leave.

What Drake found was that he did not mind the boy's company at all. Despite being an abysmal chess player, he filled up the void that would have snapped fuzzy silence into his ears throughout the whole night of playing chess by himself and laying in bed. He believed that Blake meant well, even as he craned his neck and nodded at something the boy said in the desk next to him.

Two. The other students were looking at him.

Drake was not the most imposing figure in the world. Sure, his hair spiked as much as any anime protagonist, but he mostly kept his head down and stayed in his own world. However, the other students had been giving him and Blake passing glances as they ushered themselves into the classroom. Maybe it was just because of the noise Blake was making, but the glances held a weight behind them. Admiration?

Of course, Lloyd had already arrived in the classroom before anybody else. He congratulated them and dived into his giant textbook on pre-calculus. Hunter had given them both a high-five. Or a high-thirty since all six of his hands planted on his back had be involved. Martel lectured them about how they both used their quirks perfectly despite not being there. Even Synaes brushed past them, but at a slower speed and gave them both a cursory nod.

Three. He had the weirdest dream the night previous. Maybe the amount of marijuana being smoked in California effected the air.

"That was really cool how you took down Shoto."

In the front row of the class, Katsu sat himself at the desk next to Blake. He crossed his arms behind his wavy hair. "He's a prideful guy, so I could tell he was sore about it earlier."

"Yeah, but you've gotten to live with him for a while," Blake said. "So you must have seen all the great Pro-Heroes in Japan."

"I did," Katsu said. "But I learned a lot about teamwork, and I think you guys nailed it."

"I bet we all could learn something from you guys then," Katsu said.

"We just followed the clues," Megan slid through the classroom towards the conversation. She set her notebook down on the desk behind Drake. "We didn't get distracted."

"Not for the most part, right Megan?" Blake said as he looked over at her.

Megan locked eyes with Blake. Despite his cheerful demeanor, Megan was slightly unsettled by the boy. His gaze seemed to harden at the girl, and he narrowed them just a speck. Being frozen during the battle, it took time to thaw her out properly. All she knew was that Drake and Blake were able to defeat Shoto. Deku had promised they would watch the video during class, but something told her that Blake was somebody she needed to watch out for.

"Right," Megan said. "We were sharp."

"Oh, Austin," Blake chirped. The taller man had just strolled in the room. "Did you get all that glitter off?"

"From all visible parts of me," He said before taking his seat.

Right next to him, Robyn had perched herself dead center in the room. She drew on a notepad that sat in her lap. She challenged herself to trace the outline of the chalkboard and the students talking in front of her. With a soft pencil, she scratched at the paper and doodled.

Anton sat next to her closest to the window. Since the girl was busy, he munched on a bag of potato chips and gazed out at the bright sky above the shimmering ocean outside.

Idiot. This is your chance to talk to her. Ask about her interests.

Pathogen had made it Anton's life's goal to annoy him about Robyn to no end. Sure, the girl had been nice to him over the past day or so. There were no indications that she was any more interested. He was not supposed to be here for girls anyway. He was here to become a Pro-Hero!

She's a cute girl that might like you! Plus, she's Chinese. People love diverse relationships!

"I will eat chips every day for the rest of my life," Anton muttered.

If you don't talk to her, I'll sing the entire class period.

"I will jump off this building," Anton said behind his bag of chip.

MEMORIES! ALL ALONE IN THE MOONLIGHT-!

"What are you drawing?" Anton said in a tired tone, his head snapping towards Robyn.

The girl's eyes sparkled once she put her pencil down and faced the green boy.

"Oh, Anton! I didn't even notice you were there," Robyn said. "No, it's just the front of the classroom."

"So," Anton tried to regurgitate the words from his throat. "You like drawing?"

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't like it," Robyn giggled.

Anton slapped his palm onto his forehead. "That was dumb, wasn't it?"

"It's early," Robyn flashed a tooth-shining grin at Anton. "We're allowed to be dumb."

Say something else! Ask about her history!

"So...how about Tiananmen Square?" Anton asked.

Robyn furrowed her brow like a curious hamster. "Huh?"

"Like...that sucked what happened, right?" Anton asked.

"Uh...I guess it did?"

Not that kind of history! About her!

"I mean," Anton said. "I think about the Tank Man a lot."

Robyn gasped as a strike of lightning zapped through her brain. "Oh, so you think about that a lot! Because it reminds you to be heroic and have courage in rough times. Kinda like how people think of All Might to get through tough times."

"Uh...right," Anton went along with her line of reasoning. "Kinda like All Might. You got it."

"That's cool how you think like that," Robyn batted her slender eyelashes at him.

Somehow, Anton had not completely screwed it up. He tried to return the smile with a small one of his own. The strange muscles that he rarely stretched began to crinkle around his eyes in a forced grin.

Right as he tried to finish his grin, a tower of books slammed onto the desk next to Robyn. She hopped up in her seat, and Anton cracked his knuckle at the intruder that slid into the chair next to Robyn. A looming shadow covered the both of them as the boy held his head onto a propped up arm.

"What are you dorks doing?" James asked. His hair was disheveled like he had just rolled out of bed. His tie was loose, the double-Windsor knot placed just below his collar bone.

"Aww," Robyn teased. "Have we already been promoted to 'dorks'?"

From the other side of Robyn, Anton craned his head and breathed out a deep sigh. With James on the other side of Robyn, he imagined that gaining attention would be a little tougher. Perhaps James just liked being in the dead center of the class for attention.

He's competition, moron. He's stealing our thunder. Do something.

"Tch. It took me all night to get that glitter of me. I'm not in the mood for jokes." James frowned while brushing a piece of lint from his wrinkled uniform shoulder epaulette.

"I guess you weren't in the mood for looking in the mirror then," Anton said in a deadpan tone.

Robyn blew out a high-pitched whistle at the comment. James hissed like a cat and balled up his fists. His teeth gnashed, he leaned up and over Robyn's desk at Anton. "You better watch yourself, virus boy. I'll cook you like a piece of sashimi!"

"But sashimi isn't cooked. It's raw," Robyn said.

Silence.

James, realizing how stupid he truly was, stammered and lowered himself back in his chair. "Whatever! Leave me alone."

Robyn turned back to Anton. "I bet he's just not a morning person."

Synaes tapped her cane on the desk in front of her. The loud voices in the room were a far cry from Iceland, and she longed for her quiet meditative periods of physical training with her brother. Her arms crossed over her pear shaped figure and pushed back her sunglasses. In the darkness, she could see the orb outline of Megan seated in front of her. However, from outside the doorway, she spotted the harsh outline of a certain Pro-Hero trudging into the room.

"Alright, nerds. Listen up!"

As the rest of the class took their seats, the bell rang. Bakugo stormed into the room and flung an auburn, leather-bound suitcase down onto the table. In his hero outfit, he leaned on the front of the cocobolo desk that sat in the center of room. He gripped the edge of the desk and hoisted himself onto the shining waxed surface. He plopped himself onto the desk and scanned the rest of the class. The desks were all filled up except for two of them.

"Before I begin, that moron with the headphones is out until lunchtime," Bakugo said. "He passed out and nearly died from dehydration. Maybe next time, his team won't forget about him."

Bakugo glared swords at the team Abel belonged to. Despite his glare reaching them, he was slightly taken aback at the odd reactions. Yes, that quiet British kid named Leo cowered in fear as he should, but Anton covered his mouth and seemed more annoyed at the whole ordeal. It seemed like he whispering to that annoying voice that he heard when infected by his virus.

Moxie, however, was white as glue. Sitting behind Katsu, her face was puffed, slightly reddened and her eyes flickered around like she was hiding a secret. Her uniform was wrinkled and unkempt, and the stockings over her legs were folded at the top edge. Her entire frame shook with the intensity of a wet dog after a frigid bath. Maybe she was effected by all that happened the day before. Maybe she cared deeply about Abel.

Maybe she was just a crazy teenaged girl. He would never understand them.

"This is Villain Studies," Bakugo growled out.

James and Katsu both perked up at the teacher's pronouncement. Leo shrunk further in his seat. Lloyd, who was already furiously scribbling notes in his three-pronged binder, wrote in big letter the name of the class at the top of the page.

"They're making me teach this. Can't imagine why," Bakugo said to himself. "But this class is where you get to know the why and how. Why evil exists in the world and how it makes our lives so much tougher. So tell me, which one of you will become the villain?"

The whole class remained silent.

Bakugo rocked off the desk to his feet. "None of you, huh? Well, that's just a pipe dream. Out of fifteen students, one of you will become a villain. It's a statistic from the National Hero Bureau. Who is it?"

Katsu raised his hand.

"What?"

"Since he's not here, it could be Abel."

A few laughs rippled through the class.

Bakugo, his blood whistling in his head like a tea kettle ready to burst, rolled his eyes. "And whose to say it won't be you?" He pointed at Katsu. "Just because you're from my country and you lived with that damn Icy Hot?"

"Because I've been treated like a villain before," Katsu said with a faraway look in his eye. "Didn't like it."

Bakugo slammed his fist onto the desk. He gestured out at the rest of the class. "And you think that matters? I don't care where you're from. Skin color. Background. Country. You could all be heroes, but you have just a good chance at being a villain. And I bet most of you would just be small time villains that rob banks. Nothing even to be impressed by."

Lloyd scratched his pencil over the paper. He was acting like a stenographer capturing every one of his teacher's words. Whenever Bakugo was silent, the whole class could hear the note taking occur.

"So what I need to know," Bakugo said. "Is how smart all of you are. Who was the worst villain in history?"

"Pol Pot."

Without raising his hand, James blurted out an answer. Lloyd perked up like an eager rabbit and peered back at boy who had his arms crossed behind his head.

"What?" Bakugo asked.

"Whaddya mean?" James twirled a pencil between his fingers. "You guys don't know Pol Pot? The Khmer Rouge?"

"Huh?"

"The dictator of Cambodia," James set his pencil down. "Killed like over a million people. Big commie bastard. But I guess here in California, where every loser liberal wears a Che Guevara shirt and carried an ounce of weed, he could be a hero."

"There's nothing wrong with being liberal," Lloyd said. "Some people support universal healthcare."

"And some people do nothing but smoke weed every day," James said. "That's all they do here in California, right? Smoke weed everyday?"

"In fact, cannabis has several properties that can benefit many conditions," Martel chimed in. Then, he reached into his void space and whipped out a large glass bong for marijuana use. "Void Industries even created this bong that can increase the potency of cannabis's medicinal properties by ninety percent. It has already passed test runs in Denmark and Bhutan, interestingly enough."

"You can't bring marijuana dispensing paraphernalia into class," Lloyd shouted. "Mister Bakugo, send him to the principal's office and have him expelled!"

"You're in my class! Not the other way around! Put the bong away, Cheech," Bakugo yelled before pointing at Lloyd. "And you mind your own business."

"The livelihood of my class is my business," Lloyd explained.

"No it's not," James said. "You aren't even class president!"

"Speaking of which, we should vote on that soon," Blake said.

"Honestly," Austin stroked his forearm. "I'm fine with a dictatorship of the teacher for now."

Martel slid the bong back into his space. It disappeared without a trace.

Megan, right in front of Synaes, had to roll her eyes at just how insane the class was becoming by the second. It appeared that common sense was not something that would be plentiful in this class.

"I meant with a quirk," Bakugo said. "The biggest villain with a quirk."

"Oh, so I guess killing over a million people isn't evil enough. Apologies," James rested his head back into his arm.

Bakugo shook his head and ignored the comment. "This will be your first project. Outside in the mock city simulator arena, there is a city with a very important person. Your job is to kill him."

The entire class froze in a dearth of silence.

"We will divided the class up again between heroes and villains," Bakugo said. "You will be given a ball with a target pinned right at the VIP's heart. This VIP will give a speech at the fake city hall and then tour the city. You can attack at any point between the speech and the VIP exiting the arena which should be about thirty minutes. If you land the ball on the target, that person is dead and you win. You'll know the specific location. You won't know the defenses. There are pretty much no rules except don't actually kill anyone."

Katsu tensed up in his seat. His throat dried up, and he felt a pang of excitement smack at his heart.

Blake held an open-mouthed grin and rocked in his seat like an excited child riding a roller coaster. Bakugo could not help but lock gazes with the excited boy. He was unsure if he was supposed to be in the hero course after this year. The boy seemed a little too innocent. Too open. The son of such insane villains could not possibly be somebody that could save the day.

He had to admit he was impressed that Blake used his quirk to wipe out Icy Hot on the rooftop. When he thawed out Blake, he immediately bounded to his feet and jabbered on about how cool it was to freeze up the ice guy. Even Todoroki had to clear his head from the defeat. Despite that, there was a strange glimmer behind Blake's eye that just made Bakugo more weary around him.

Half-and-half's pet, Katsu, was just a nuisance that would be chopped down to Earth soon. The brash kid with the Neon powers was too obvious to not be a villain. That guy with the weird talking quirk would probably be more useful with the health and support side of heroics. But...he supposed a Villain could easily use something like a virus for evil.

Of course, he also had reservations about that teacher's pet Lloyd. He had seen good boys turn evil before, and the pressure that guy put on himself and others could fracture a person's morals quickly.

Okay, maybe Lloyd wouldn't turn evil. But somebody had to. This exercise was both to see the classes quirks in action, but it was also to see who embraced the role of villain the most. Who had the quirk that would be the most exploitive to other villains.

"So I get to divide the teams up," Bakugo said. "Villains, start planing strategy."

Here we go! More people working together. Except this time, they are the villains!

Just a bit of an opening chapter for this next "episode." We hint at some strange universe timey-wimey stuff happening.

Alistair Leonhardt-Hell Devil 13 (voiced by Aaron Dismuke)

Yes, if you have read any of my other fics, this could be considered a crossover with some of those. Don't worry, it won't effect your OC's that much. But there will be cameos from things I have written before.

Sadly, my last SYOC was one in the Harry Potter world, and it was not completed. I apologized to everyone involved. It just wasn't something I cared to finish. However, I thought referencing that would be interesting, and maybe this is a critique about how lazy and uncommitted us authors can be sometimes. I hope to prove myself as something different to you.

It's okay if you still don't know how this fits into anything. We will reveal some things soon.

Also, I'd like to note that any political conversations or comments should be seen as opinions of the characters and not necessarily my own. That said, the Khmer Rouge SUCKED!

P.S. Apologies if you are in China and you are reading this. I mentioned Tiananmen Square. Expect the CPC to erase this story from your Chinese internet soon! LOL!

But yes, Alistair is an Oc created by Hell Devil 13. I liked him so much, I decided he would be resurrected into having "his" story finished. You are more than welcome to read my previous SYOC, The Burning Phoenix for more backstory on him. Basically, he was a student who has a crystal with special powers. Now, Moxie gets those powers and a very attractive British Blonde guy to follow her around like Patrick Swayze in Ghost. Not the worst deal (so far! Hint hint!).

As always, let me know what you think. It will be fun to see who works with who and how they "kill" there target. Fun cameos as to who the VIPS will be!

Thank you. See you soon!