'Do not underestimate the power of numbers. Skill does not matter when there are too many people to move safely. Knowledge falls to the wayside when there are multiple quirks interacting in new and different ways. Greater numbers can be both a boon and a curse.'

—Excerpt from the recovered 'Tenets of Combat' likely authored by an underground hero or vigilante.

Dr. Makinami's office is much the same as always. A glass desk to give the illusion that nothing separates them. The green fabric couch Izuku always sits on. The fake plants in their orange vases. And the doctor herself, fiddling with her glasses.

"Hello again," she begins. "How are you feeling?"

"Worried, I think. We've got the Sports festival coming up."

"And do you feel you're ready?"

"I'm not… I don't really know. I'm training but I don't know if I can do well."

"Why do you say that? I feel like you're smart, and you obviously have a strong quirk to make it into 1-A."

"I have a flashy quirk," he corrects, bitter. "That's what really separates 1-A from the other classes. I've missed a lot of time being injured and… dealing with Mikumo."

She frowns. "Have you been talking to him recently?"

"No," he answers truthfully because Mikumo has been quiet all day. "I just think of what happened often."

"You know, if you feel you aren't ready because of medical reasons you can opt out of the Sports Festival."

"I didn't know about that."

"It's rare but it does happen on occasion. Sometimes students get too injured for one reason or another. UA wouldn't force someone to take part if they couldn't. And what's happened to you certainly counts. I saw you limping when you walked in."

He rubs his right leg, painful in a constant and dull way ever since the Nomu attack. There are pale scars, long tendrils where the flesh was restored by Recovery Girl's quirk. These scars, at least, can be hidden like those across his torso.

"It's minor" he says resolutely, "It just slows me down a bit."

"That's another injury in addition to your prior incident. I may not be a physician, but repeated physical trauma stacks up. You need time to heal."

He thinks of the weeks he's spent in the abyss, fighting, healing and training. "I've had enough time. And I'm not going to give up before I even try. If I don't make it far, then that's alright. But I have to try. You said the next step is the most important."

"I did." She smiles and looks to her file. "A few weeks back when we were talking about Mikumo, you said that you often lied. I'd like to revisit that."

He inhales. "Okay."

"You said Mikumo described himself as 'the keeper, lock and key' of a lie you told yourself. I wanted to ask you about that."

"I wasn't… ready to admit the truth. Omission is still a form of lying." He looks away from her. "I didn't want to accept that something happened. And it drove me…."

"Is that lie why you attempted—"

"In a way, yes. In a way, no." He rubs his forearm. "It's not simple. I can't really explain it."

"You can try."

"There were answers I needed. And at the time, doing that seemed the only way to find them."

"I'm going to stop you there." She shifts, watching him with the slightest bit of apprehension. "You're saying you tried taking your life to find answers to a lie. And that worries me because I don't know how you're looking for answers now."

I walk through shadow and enter a world where the impossible is mundane, where death has no meaning and life is anathema.

He says none of that. "I talk," he says instead. "Grabbing a knife isn't an answer. Pain brings clarity. It grounds me, but I can't just stab myself and expect that to solve my problems."

"You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that."

"I think about it sometimes when it's too noisy and I can't tell what's what." He pauses, and frowns. "I haven't really felt that way for a while now."

"Since you started taking the medication?"

I told you to keep taking the pills for a reason, Mikumo whispers. I am not the enemy.

"Yes. They don't leave me sick and tired and drained all the time."

"They're not meant to fix everything. But they do help. You just have to be willing to take the next step."

He accepts her words and walks home alone. There is a certain truth to them that he can accept. The longer he thinks of his life so far, the more he can accept that everything he has faced matters less than he once thought, and the worries of the future are nothing compared to making a decision in the present.

Dinner with his mother is silent. He is distracted by thoughts of the Sports Festival and how far he will go. He can use One For All better now. Given time, he can let the strength of his mentor's quirk empower him to the edge of human potential. With more time, he can exceed those bounds for a single moment without shattering his limbs.

Even without that, his shadows are always present. He hopes that the Sports Festival doesn't take place at noon, or at least his portion in it doesn't, as his shadows will be useless then.

"Kaa-san, are you… are you coming tomorrow?"

They're seated in the lounge watching a show she likes. He hasn't paid any attention to it, letting the words wash past him and occupied with one of the books from the shelf. It's another book from his dad's possession.

His mother looks up, a gentle smile on her lips.

"Only if you make me a promise." He nods because there is no promise he would not fulfil for her. "Promise me that if I come tomorrow, you'll do everything in your power to win."

He scratches his burn scar, confused. "I will?"

"No, not like that." She leans forward and touches her forehead to his. "Izuku, honey, don't treat this like a game. Open your eyes because Japan will be watching. Show them how strong you are. Abandon whatever fears you have. Just keep looking forward and never stop. Retreat and you'll grow old with regrets. Hesitate and you'll die with those regrets."

He stares deep in her eyes, seafoam to his forest. "I will." He takes another breath to centre himself. "I will."

That resolve follows him the next day. He walks with his back straight and head raised. It is a lie for he feels nervous and panicked, but he knows that wearing a lie long enough makes it a truth, or perhaps an untruth.

His confidence does not imbue him with any sense of direction. He has a map, every student does, given to him by Aizawa, but even with it he's found himself in every wrong spot: the booth he thinks someone might be giving a presentation, a room where all the gas lines originate and a pale haired security guard inspecting them, and even all the way outside through a secret entrance Kamui Woods guards—explaining why he was out there had made the hero laugh, and though he has given Izuku directions, he still finds himself one level underground.

Before he can take a flight of stairs down, someone pulls him back. He looks and sees Ojiro who looks exasperated

"Your sense of direction is horrible," Ojiro says, not letting go.

Izuku shrugs even as he is dragged along. "It's only bad in the r-real world."

Ojiro sighs, playing with his phone. "Good thing we went looking for you already

"We?"

"All of us. You friends," he adds. "Except Tokoyami. He got lost as well."

He can't help the smile even as they walk through the door. His classmates are there, and the conversation quietens when he enters.

Kirishima waves. "I know you said you have a bad sense of direction but man, you probably get lost in your own house."

"I o-only did that once."

He accepts the jokes at his expense as he sits between Uraraka and Kaminari. Uraraka teases him endlessly and distracts Iida with innocent comments on Tokoyami's behaviour before the class rep can lecture her. He watches her juggle a conversation with Kaminari whilst also explaining why the Gravity remaster is the best movie to have come out of this decade to Ojiro who smiles through it all.

"Midoriya."

He looks up and sees Todoroki walking—no, pacing with the tense energy of a predator—towards him, one hand in his pocket.

"To-Todoroki?" he asks, feeling just the slightest bit of dread from this boy whom he's seen ice an entire building without breaking a sweat. He doesn't miss the way Uraraka tenses or how the group falls silent.

"Objectively, I think I'm stronger than you are now," Todoroki says, mixed eyes cold. "But All Might has his eye on you."

Izuku tenses. "Wh—"

"I don't care about that," Todoroki cuts through. "I just know I'm going to beat you."

"Hey man," Kirishima says, placing a hand on Todoroki's shoulder. "There's no need to start something."

Todoroki bats the hand away. "We're not here to play at friends. I came here to win, something you've all forgotten about."

"That's—"

"You're right," Izuku says, standing. He hates how he must crane his neck up to meet Todoroki's eyes, but he refuses to back down after that insult. "Everyone here wants to win. Even the students from the other courses. I just don't get why you have a personal problem with me."

Izuku grins. "Objectively speaking, I think you're stronger."

Knowledge, shadowshield, Mikumo says. He challenges you whilst holding back strength. You will match any challenger. He is nothing compared to you.

"Man, you need to stop saying…" Kirishima trails off as Izuku's grin becomes just the slightest bit sharper.

"Objectively speaking, you have no reason to come after me. But if you want to come after me, that's fine. I'll give it all I've got."

"Good. It won't mean anything if you don't when I win this tournament."

Izuku lets a memory of nightmares bleed through his grin. "But if you come at me with anything less than your full strength, you won't win."

"This is foolish," Tokoyami says. "And regardless of who wins your fight, I am winning this tournament."

"Don't get arrogant, you fucking flightless fowl," Kaachan roars. "I'm gonna blow you the fuck away. This is my tournament arc, not yours."

"Ah, that's some cute alliteration," Uraraka adds, perpetually cheerful. "I hope you have some when I send you to the moon because I'm winning."

-TDB-

Inko Midoriya finds her way through the stadium, checked no less than three times on the way to the parent's section. The area already has some of the parents: a woman with a hawk's head, maybe a crow, and her silent husband who is a mountain of muscle; two who look too like a frog to be anything but the Asuis. Other still, whom she cannot recognise.

"Inko."

She looks at Mitsuki Bakugou who sits beside her husband, her arm around his neck. The woman is both wary—for good reason—and inviting as though she has any right to be, not when it was her son who harmed Izuku so much.

"Mitsuki," she says, walking over. "Marasu."

Despite that, there is nearly two decades of friendship between them. She holds Mitsuki accountable for her son's actions, and she may never forgive her, but she can choose to not hate her. Izuku is many things, kind as the warm valley and joyous as the last summer evening, but cruel is not one of them. And she knows he will never forgive her if she doesn't choose to be better and let go of her anger and hate.

It helps, perhaps, that ever since what happened they have spoken. Hours upon hours under the stars, tipsy and passing a joint from hand to hand, did they speak of failings and regrets and motherhood. She wonders often if they are simply perpetuating a cycle: Mitsuki and Inko, Izuku and Katsuki. A tale of two generations, and whilst the details may be different, the essence of the story remains the same. Two people meet. They become friends. A bitter fight. An incident that sparks, if not forgiveness, then the ability to take steps forward.

Will our grandchildren do the same?

She takes a seat beside them. From here, she can see the entirety of the battleground, and they are conveniently opposite the massive screen for whenever the camera's focus on the action.

"Inko, dear, how are you?" Marasu asks affably. "Mitsuki here has—"

Mitsuki tightens her hold around his neck. "Nope, your speaking privileges are officially revoked, you shit stain."

"Yes, dear."

That easy interaction reminds her of Hisashi. Or, at least the parts of their marriage that was happy. It is that thought that makes her notice something.

"Is that the imperial family?" she asks, pointing to another booth filled with people in white uniforms. The stands above and below the booth are devoid of people. They seem to interact like normal people, but the white they all sport taints that visage of normality.

They may still pay reparations for their crimes, and will continue doing so for decades, but she can never forget the horror of watching Taiwan sink due to one man's rage. She remembers Hisashi in the days after that, closed and withdrawn and much too terrified of the mundane. It never seemed strange to her at the time. After all, the collective psyche of Japan was traumatised to know one of their own, the first in line to succeed the Emperor, committed a crime like that.

I should have been more insistent on answers.

"Not anyone in the line of succession," Marasu says, winking at his wife. "I think there might be a few agents, but the Royal Family wouldn't leave the palace. Too easy to attack this place."

The students start streaming out from one of the gates. She can barely make out her son amongst the sea of blue. He walks confidently, and she hopes he takes her words to heart.

"Things can change."

Midnight makes an announcement that she pays no heed to. One of the students, Iida she believes, walks ahead of the group and onto the stand.

"Katsuki was supposed to give that," Mitsuki says softly. "Little shit fucks up everything."

"Can we not? Please?" Marasu leans forward in his seat, removing Mitsuki's arm from his body. "I'm surprised they're going with a race this year. Last year was the puzzle arena. This seems just a bit mundane after that.

"They wouldn't put on a bad show," Inko says and nods towards the imperial booth. "Not with them watching. They don't do anything in half-measures."

"Speaking from experience?"

They all know he means Hisashi. They all remember her wedding day when he appeared in his white uniform, short but imposing, the picture of panache—the perfect mix of boldness and grace, and that day is memorable as well for him tripping on the steps to the alter. And go on to not a single offer of explanation as to why he could wear their symbol and colours so casually.

She has been too afraid to ask and chose to put it away from her mind.

Mitsuki elbows her husband just as the race starts. The students stampede to the exit and almost immediately a bottleneck forms.

"Foolish," someone says to her left. Separated by two seats is a man in a black jacket with cross-like eyes. "Some will have no patience."

Almost on que, ice spreads and traps the students. "Your son smart to stay back."

She looks down and sees Izuku standing behind the massive crowd, still as a statue.

"How do you—"

"Same hair," the man interrupts. "Green not common hair colour. Name Jin. Pleasure to meet you."

The man is odd, she decides, after glancing at his leopard pelt dress. She's not sure if his getup is in support of a student, if he's a hero—she can list all of the major ones and some of the more obscure ones because of Izuku—or perhaps eccentric enough to simply walk around with his torso revealed.

Still, she is polite. "Inko. The pleasure is all mine. Is one of your children competing?"

She barely sees Izuku move. In one motion he's behind the crowd and in the next he's landing in a roll on the other side, sliding with his momentum instead of battling the slick surface.

"Brilliant." She feels the moment his attention turns towards her, the quiet sense that she's sitting beside an apex predator deigning to walk amongst ants. "Not children. Students. Three of them. One with tail."

She finds the blonde boy. "Ojiro."

"Student at dojo since child. Watch." The robots appear then, and she observes Ojiro flip above one and break it apart with a flick of his tail even as ice encases the rest.

"Second being carried."

She sees Shinsou being carried by four students and marvels at the audacity of it all. "Shinsou."

"How the fuck do you know everyone?" Mitsuki mutter more to herself than anyone.

"Other student difficult boy. Kind. Smart. Has good instinct."

"Who is it?" She watches Izuku stand before one of the robots. When it brings its arm down to punch him, he simply steps to the side and crouches, spinning with the moment. She watches shocked as he sweeps its legs out and causes it to crash to the ground. She knew he was strong, especially with All Might's quirk, but it is rare that he uses it so casually.

"Acceptable. Little wasted movement. Form not horrible." The odd man seems to smile with his entire body, everything about him loosening. The mild fear she has felt vanishes.

She thinks on his words. Her eyes widen. "Wait, you can't—"

"Teach him I did," the man says. "Form and technique. Had hoped he would show you my dojo one day. Seems he forgot."

She can't help the snort. "He does."

"Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier." He nods his head, bowing almost. "Jin Mo-Ri. Teacher of Taekwondo. Please forgive atrocious Japanese. From Korea."

"It's fine." And then, because she is kind and knows too much, she says, "You know who else trained him?"

He raises a brow. "You speak Korean as well. Both you and your son are exceptional."

"Do you know?" she repeats more insistently.

"When the hell did you learn Korean?"

Inko smiles at Mitsuki, bright and false as a mirage in the desert. "I've had some free time." And she has heard the litanies of dead gods, knows the shape of their names and the formless runes that draw them forth.

"The Symbol of Peace," Jin says. "Once my student as well. All things in this story are cyclical. The past becomes the future becomes the present."

"He has enemies. Enemies I fear he has not told my son. He is young and still believes the world is black and white. Heroes and villains. Humans and monsters."

Jin crosses his leg, ankle on knee. "All Might is not the best teacher. A good man, and a greater symbol, but he has never had to become a teacher. He does the best he can with what little he knows."

"My son is permanently scarred because of his failings."

Mitsuki grunts. "Who the hell is that?" she asks, pointing at the kid who slides across the now frozen tightropes rapidly.

"Endeavour's son," Mashiro says. "Got in on recommendation from what I heard. Seems he deserved it. Look at how far ahead of the pack he is."

"Our shit stain's right behind him."

"Neither win this round," Jin says to them. "Wait until final section. Surprised you might be. Easy bet is not always right bet."

"We'll see."

"Yes." In Korean, he adds, "Scars heal. Burn scars have treatments."

"He'll miss out on the rest of the term if we try those treatments."

He hums. "I am no doctor but medical technology has advanced. Whom did you consult with?"

"Recovery Girl."

"And no other specialist did you seek? She is many things, but infallible is not one of them. No single person can know all medicine. Investigate further, you should."

Inko frowns. There are other reasons she will not speak to a man she hardly knows. How much of her son's quirk Jin knows is unknown to her, and even if All Might trusts the man, she is unwilling to place that kind of trust in a stranger. Her son may face threats if she gets help from an outside specialist. She has no choice but to trust in the school.

At least, until Izuku is strong enough to stand alone. The moment he is, then Inko will rain down brimstone and ash on the school.

There are other institutions, Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu in Japan, and she doesn't doubt Izuku's abilities to find a placement in any of the other great campuses around the world: Toledo Research Institute in in Spain where the tyrant Stormwind died in peace; Hero Memorial Academy in Zimbabwe where Hero, a heroine matched only by Hawkmoon, died in agony with her lover Legion on the day of their union.

She has options, but if Izuku is far away then she cannot protect him in those foreign lands. Here, at least, she knows of two hero agencies that specialise in extractions that she can contact immediately if her son is ever kidnapped. All Might will do everything in his power to see her son safe. And if all that fails she has one last option.

Her gaze drifts to the Imperial booth once more. Hisashi wore their uniform at their wedding. Every month without fail, her account receives a deposit large enough to cover their needs, more than any pension for a single risk assessor should receive. A year after Izuku was born Hisashi gave her the location of a safety deposit box and told her to use it if she was ever in any trouble.

She hasn't opened it, terrified of what it might hold, and never having need to do so. But with the attack on USJ, her resolve falters. She is ready should the day come and she must unearth those old secrets.

"That's an interesting obstacle," Mashiro says, pulling her from her thoughts. It makes her realise that she's missed a good chunk of the event. "A minefield to slow the pack leaders down. Katsuki can't stay in air that long and Endeavour's boy can't use his ice."

"He could build a bridge that arcs over it," Inko says immediately. "So long as he's careful, it won't touch the minefield and no one else can skate across the ice as fast as he can."

"That was… insightful."

Inko shrugs. "Izuku spends a lot of time on quirks. Some of it rubbed off on me."

"Speaking of him, what the fuck is he doing?"

She looks for her son and finds him kneeling at the edge of the minefield. The others can't see it, but even though the magnification isn't high enough, she can still somehow peer past it. He is hunched over to increase the area of his shadows, and his hands are pressed firmly on—in, her mind supplies—the shadow. Shapes and patterns form in the darkness just out of reach, the swirling edifices of eternal monuments that live and die every second.

"Winning," she says just as a tendril of shadow, perhaps a handspan wide, shoots across the minefield.

Izuku jumps on it and sprints forward. Behind him the shadow-bridge disintegrate, but ahead of him they are strong as ever. She can see how tendrils of darkness reach out from his shadow and reinforce the bridge as he sprints, chased by Katsuki and Endeavour's son.

And yet, though he has a limp, his sprint is exceedingly fast. For a moment she thinks she sees green lightning. And then he is gone, leaping forward and crossing the distance to the exit. He fails the landing, and instead of sliding gracefully, he tumbles through the exit.

Inko hides her face in here hands at the sight of Izuku, face planted in the ground, and ass up for all the world to see. She wants to clap, really, she does.

"He's got style," Mitsuki says, giggling. "Wasn't Hisashi in that exact position right before the altar? Like father like son."

"I tried very hard to forget that."

When Midnight announces a ten-minute intermission, Mitsuki grabs her husband. "Let's find some food."

"I see your diet lasted three whole days this time."

"Honey, shut up."

"Yes, dear." He nods to Inko. "Want anything?"

"Not really."

"That means she's starving," Mitsuki says, dragging her husband who waves as they leave.

She listens to some of the other parents take advantage of the intermission before the next round. There isn't ay reason for her to leave, not when Marasu will probably bring back enough food to feed the entire stadium.

She watches as one of the staff members makes eight platforms of concrete held up by pillars. There are handholds and scaffolds on the pillars leading to the platform, and a haphazard collection of bridges connecting the pillars.

"How did you know he would win?"

"Had faith. He is a smart boy and has good instincts."

"I still don't really know who you are? All Might trusts you and let you train my son."

"I'm just a stranger from a far away land." He smiles. "My story has ended. I have no part in these events. You shouldn't worry too much about my placement. I'm not even a side character. I just pop up as I am needed. Izuku is the hero, and sometimes I teach him."

"I don't like that answer."

He sighs. "Jaecheondaesong. Name have meaning? No, I think not. Useless name to you. Search all database. Find nothing. A teacher I am now, nothing more."

The silence between them is tense until the Bakugous arrive. As she expects, Marasu has enough snacks to last them a camping trip and most of them end up in Mitsuki's hands. She eats quickly, and Inko will always be confused at how she manages to eat so much so quickly without looking like a pig.

Midnight walks onto the field and a pillar forms beneath her, bringing her high above the crowd. She poses extravagantly.

"Marasu, if you're looking at her then I'm divorcing you."

"She's not as beautiful as you."

Inko rolls her eyes as Midnight speaks.

"Boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen, get ready for the second phase of the sports festival. This round is called Zone Control. Teams of two will be randomly chosen. You and your partner will be chained—kinky, ain't it?—together, and will have to scale the pillars and reach the platform above. Whoever holds a zone for five minutes will capture the zone. But any enemies on the platform will stop the capture. Thanks to our lovely Support department, each platform will change colour from the outside in. Once it's fully changed colour, the zone is locked, and the team moves on to the next round.

"Here's where it gets real interesting. Even if you do evict the team there first, you still need to neutralise the zone, and that takes half as long as they held it for. So, if they held it for two minutes, you need to neutralise it for one full minute. Have fun, kiddies."

Marasu hums. "Interesting. They've never done this before."

"Didn't they have the cavalry battle two years back?"

"That's because they were short one class. Some teacher expelled all the students in their class." He points to one of the platforms. "And that's not as interesting. This here forces students to work with someone new, maybe someone they hate. And the chain limits their range of motion so unless they have some good synergy they'll lose. And even if you do get up there, the longer it takes for you to capture a zone the harder it gets."

"Oh." Inko swallows, understanding the intent behind the design. "Each captured zone funnels people to the next one until you've got twenty teams fighting for one zone. That's gonna be a bloodbath."

Jin chuckles deeply. "Can you hold territory? Take a zone quickly, and your victory guranteed."

-TDB-

Izuku is nervous. He's already figured out the nature of this game before he finds himself chained to a pink-haired girl with goggles, one Mei Hatsume from Support. She is bright and boisterous, smiling easily and not at all caring that he has horrid scar.

"This game is ours. Let's take the first platform."

They're all waiting near one exit, bunched up.

"N-no," he whispers. "Let's get to the edge of the group before the rush starts."

She frowns but doesn't fight him as he leads her to the right side of the group. "Do y-you have anything that can get us up there quickly? The red platform." It is the fifth platform, close enough that they won't spend too long getting to it but far enough away that he knows it won't be anyone's first choice.

"My jetpack. Why aren't we going for the first one?"

He glances back to the group. He doesn't know what powers they each have, but he knows the real dangers.

"Area abilities. If they're smart, they'll try taking out everyone quickly."

Her eyes widen. "I think I like you."

"T-thanks. Stand cl-closer to me." She does so, and the proximity makes him flush. "If it's ice use your jetpack immediately. If it's lightning, give me a moment. And if it's anything else, I kinda have no plan."

She nods, and they wait anxiously for the round to start.

It comes all too soon. A loud bang and a bright flare herald the start of the event. They crowd barely gets a collective step when lightning surges along the ground. There are screams as students freeze and collapse to the ground, their muscles seizing up.

Izuku smiles. He and Hatsume both stand on a platform of shadow. And shadow is many things but conductive is not one of them.

"Got you," Hatsme says, wrapping an arm around his waist. She is taller than him. Her invention comes to life with a loud growl and then they're flying in the air.

The crowd roars when they land on their platform. Hatsume waves back. Izuku isn't so cocky as to not pay attention to what's going on.

He watches Shinsou drag Kaminari who seems to have lost a good third of his IQ points. A smile graces his features when he sees Shinsou avoid the first two platforms and head to the third. Unlike him, Shinsou must take the bridges and stairs up the pillars.

When the ice appears and freezes the contestants, Izuku is glad he got the hell out of dodge because Todoroki looks livid. He doesn't bother with subtlety and an arc of ice leads straight to the closest platform. He drags a still twitching Ashido with him as he glides to the platform. Once he's at the top, he freezes the platform and the pillar making it impossible for anyone to ascend it.

Izuku swallows nervously. That's the person he just challenged.

I will stand by you when we defeat him, brother mine.

"He's strong," Hatsume says. "You look scared. Are you guys rivals or something?"

He shakes his head slowly as Dark Shadow extends to one of the platforms. It compresses, bringing with it Tokoyami and his partner Kirishima. He knows they'll make a strong team together. That's three of his friends. He hopes more make it to the next round.

"I th-think we've shared maybe a hundred words. He s-spent most of them telling me he's out for m-my head."

"That doesn't sound…" She trails off as Iida sprints across the field carrying Uraraka on her back. She tenses, ready for a fight as they get near them. And then they run right past. "Huh?"

"They have no reason to contest this zone," he explains. "Not when there are other free zones. We won't have to fight anyone."

Uraraka taps Iida on the shoulder. Izuku watches amazed as Iida runs straight for the pillar. And then he's running up it in defiance of gravity.

"That's ridiculous."

"Not really. I think everyone understands on an instinctive level. We've had this zone for what? Three minutes. Even if they boot us off, it'll take six and a half minutes to capture it. Better to fight for one that's just been taken."

She huffs. "Good for us but I didn't get to show off my inventions."

"Well, you b-basically won the round with your jetpack. Everyone will remember that." He smiles at her, pleased that she doesn't grimace at the way it pulls his scar. "And the further you go; the more people will notice them. People came here to win, Hatsume. If you spend your time showing off, then no one will care. If you make it even as far as the quarters, then I bet… I bet you'll be scouted by every big name. But if you aren't here to win, then you might as well bow out. People are drawn to strength of will more than anything else."

Shu huffs. "You shouldn't hurt a girl's feelings like that."

"Huh?"

She offers him a smile. "You know, I was just gonna try and show off, but I think… I think you might be right. If we have to fight against each other I won't hold back."

He smiles. "I hope you do well."

Izuku watches the red of their platform reach the flag and observes the way it creeps up it. Once it reaches the top, a bright red flare shoots off.

"Our first winners," Present Mic says through the speakers, "are Izuku Midoriya from 1-A who's come first in both rounds."

The crowd roars, the sound stunning Izuku. It is loud enough that the platform vibrates.

"And his partner Mei Hatsume from the Support Department. Let me hear you roar."

The crowd obliges. Hatsume waves, spinning on the spot and the crowd goes crazy. She seems to revel in this adulation, and Izuku is happy for her, but he doesn't care much for it.

He meets Todoroki's gaze across the stadium. There is nothing but hate and anger in that gaze.

"Seven platforms left. Fight forever, students!"

-TDB-

The world resolves in a flash of green lightning. A doorway forms and the World Walker traverses the distance between universes in a single step. This one takes stock of its surroundings: darkness, infernal and eternal plagues the land; creatures of shattered dreams and nuclear fire stalk the lands, battling arch dragons bathed in the godflame.

"Well, this is new," the operator within the World Walker says. One step takes it away from the battlefield and to a new destination.

This place is like glass reflecting the light of creation. Bright enough that it would blind any normal creature, drive them mad with the mere reflection of one of the greatest acts of existence. This light is proof of life, not its meaning—inherent or otherwise—but the simple fact that life exists.

And right in the centre, incongruous though it might be, railroad tracks stretch across this endless plain. The World Walker steps follows the path, walking endlessly and observing an eternity pass by overhead.

Creatures are birthed by this light, but every light gives rise to shadows and their natural enemies awaken from the darkness. Their war lasts millennia, and at the end, only two remain. They light the fallen corpses of their allies in the first flame of creation and send them back in time to the very beginning, to fight the war anew. The cycle repeats, two more added to the original that made it to the end, until a critical mass is reached. It is not the salvation they think it is, and nightmare come through, draining them of life until none remain.

It is an interesting enough diversion for the World Walker to observe until the destination is reached. A train, nearly a hundred cars long, waits patiently. Investigating it reveals modern amenities but nothing of any interest until the driver's car.

There is little out of place except for the conductor's hat on the chair. The World Walker takes it and inspects it. 'Master Railroad' it reads.

"How… odd?" It is not as bright as it once was, but it will do. "What happened to your corpse? It's always supposed to be here."

The World Walker sets fire to the train and observes how the flames fail to consume it fully. Scorch marks appear where there should be nothing but ash. The World Walker ignore it once the flames dies out.

"I wonder if you'll like this hat, shadowking." Twirling it in one hand, the World Walker adds, "This hunt is to end soon. I'm coming."

A bird carrying the weight of two galaxies swoops down in assault, its screech shattering this perfect glass. The beat of its wings banishes the light that birthed the universe. The World Walker set it aflame and watches it crash to the ground a few metres away. Its feathers are each a record of a people, a testament to their glories and failings. Taking two at random, the World Walker attaches them to the hat.

"No matter what stands in my way."

A/N:

Hey folks, before anyone asks, yes, this is Jin Mo-Ri from the webcomic God of High School. He first appeared in chapter 3 and I forget to credit that on this site, though I did so on Ao3. Anyway, if you like super awesome fights, check it out.

As a reminder to anyone who might have missed it and is interested, I have a discord server I'm running like a total noob. It can be found at discord . gg / 4YvCTYR [remove the spaces].

That's all from me for now. Thank you for reading this. If you enjoyed the story leave a favourite and if you have any questions just drop a review. But know all of that is unnecessary, and as always your readership is quite enough for me. Cheers.