I never thought this story would be starting off with about one hundred people following / liking the story, that's huge.

review corner :

From ImCoolGuy0 chapter 2 . Aug 12, 2024

The story is very great, and I hope that Izuku midoriya tells the I-Island inhabitants about All Might saying that he couldn't be a hero, and then praised Katsuki Bakugo for his 'power' and 'heroic spirit'. and the latest bombshell of Baka-go telling Izuku that he should take a leap of faith off a building.
Also, I know that the haters at your story of Echoes of Power are complete jerk-off wads, but don't listen to them, your story is wonderful and if the haters want a story that they want, they can go find that somewhere else, no offense.
Your stories are so exceptional, and that is never your fault

All Might bashing will arrive when it's due, not planning on continuing Echoes of Power any time soon, I never thought I would have lost the motivation so much, thanks for the kind words though. (They can also follow my example and go write their own fics themselves.)

From marquis . shax chapter 2 . Aug 10, 2024

I just knew as I was reading this chapter that you'd end up going with Iron Man's Arc Reactor. Is the plasma part your own spin on it or is that the actual explanation for it from either the comics or the movies? I don't remember and honestly after having just gotten off of a 10 hour shift at work I really don't feel like googling that shit lol

Honestly, I checked like 4 random forums and gathered the common explanations, it is, as I wrote it, a glorified "car battery" than can output the power of a fusion reactor. I don't have a degree in science and I will not try to rationalize how it works either, would be as useful as making a resume to convince people the universe is shaped like a pretzel ... (wat)

From gantoniorichard chapter 2 . Aug 12, 2024

Hé l'auteur, as-tu un calendrier de sortie ? Je veux savoir combien de jours il faut pour qu'un chapitre sorte

Translation : Hey author, you got a release schedule ? I wanna know how many days you need to release a chapter.

My schedule is "when I fell like it" and it takes about "enough power to fight procrastination" to release a chapter ;) satisfied ? Bonjour french people !

Everything is happening really fast, and honestly, I do not care, I wanna write what I feel like is important. Unless people here enjoy four hours lectures about how the universe is actually shaped like a pretzel ...

I-Island is an arc, I expect to have gone over everything important in this place by chapter 5-7 and then have the action going all the way back to Japan.

Izuku decided to keep his theory to himself until he had more concrete data and detailed schematics. It needed to be stable—not perfect, but stable—before he could present it to Melissa. He didn't want to burden her with an idea that was still being held together by duct tape and sheer willpower.

Meanwhile, he had caught up with the academy's rigorous standards, even managing to place among the top students in their group, just behind Melissa. It was a source of quiet pride for him. For once, he was excelling academically, and no one had ever accused him of cheating. However, there was one teacher, Samuel Abraham, with whom Izuku couldn't seem to find a rhythm. The man often gave him a neutral, calculating glance—never aggressive or judgmental, just unsettling.

Determined to push forward with his project, Izuku brought all his notes to the academy and asked Melissa if they could discuss his ideas during lunch. She read through everything in silence—once, then twice, and finally a third time. It was a full month's worth of preparation and study condensed into those pages. When Melissa finally looked up, Izuku did his best to stay calm, resisting the urge to bombard her with questions.

Melissa nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "It... it seems possible. You haven't tried anything on your own yet?"

He shook his head. "No, but I have all the materials ready in my workshop. I wanted a second opinion first. I calculated everything assuming it could be implemented—"

"With my project... A conductive fabric, the core handles the reaction, and the fabric conducts the output energy. It's a relay, a field..." Melissa's eyes lit up with realization. "Izuku, if we can make this work, it won't just be about the suit. It could be applied to so many things. It could change the world."

"So, what's your opinion?" Izuku asked, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Melissa paused, weighing her words. "Either we're heading into a dead end, or we're on the verge of a discovery as groundbreaking as cold fusion... What was the output you calculated?"

"About three gigajoules per second," Izuku confirmed, glancing at his notes to double-check. "It's a lot, but it was the most stable combination I could come up with."

Melissa handed back his notes, her mind already racing. "You handle the materials and the math. I'll take care of designing and crafting everything we need—I've got smaller hands, so I can work on the finer details."

Izuku followed after her, unable to contain his excitement. "So, we're in business?"

"Yes, in my workshop, together, as soon as classes are over. I'm out of welding tools, so make sure to bring one. And tell your mother you won't be home until we're done."

"That won't be a problem," Izuku replied, a grin spreading across his face. This was it—the beginning of something incredible.

They worked tirelessly through the night. It was Izuku's first time consuming caffeine, and he quickly realized it wasn't for him—he was already more than energetic enough without it. As Melissa had warned, they faced several cycles of trial and error, but with each attempt, they made incremental progress. By the time they reached the fifth iteration, both felt a growing sense of optimism.

"It's almost midnight," Melissa noted, her voice tinged with fatigue. "Let's fire this one up and then head to bed." She and Izuku carefully placed the unnamed core into a secured chamber, preparing for the crucial test. "Would you do the honors?" she asked, handing Izuku the remote.

"Let's hope I'll be remembered for more than just pushing a button," Izuku muttered, half-joking.

"Hey, it could be worse—you could go down in history as the student who blew up someone's house," Melissa teased with a smirk. Or was she joking? Izuku wasn't entirely sure, but he shook off the thought and pressed the button.

The lights in the room flickered, dimming noticeably. In fact, the entire house seemed to be drawing less power, though neither of them noticed at first. All their attention was focused on the reactor. It wasn't exploding. The readings were stable. It worked. They both stood in stunned silence for a full minute, staring at their creation with a mix of disbelief and awe.

"The reactor's temperature is perfect, just as you theorized—about three gigajoules," Melissa finally said, breaking the silence. "The lights dimmed, though. The house's electrical network must have been overwhelmed. I'll disconnect the core."

Izuku grabbed a laser thermometer to check the reactor's exterior temperature. It was about the same as the room's—cool enough to hold in his hand. "It's surprisingly cold. I guess the cooling layer works even better than we thought."

"Let's try not to damage it. I need to take pictures and review the recording," Melissa advised. Izuku carefully placed the reactor back on its stand and helped her with the documentation. "So, what are we naming it?"

"I haven't really thought about that," Izuku admitted. "Do we have to? Isn't that something for the marketing department?"

"Unless you want them to name your invention something ridiculous like P.U.K.E.," Melissa sighed.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "I won't even ask if that's happened before. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well," Melissa mused, "it's a miniaturized fusion reactor, something that could potentially power anything. It's a universal battery, a symbol of hope for the future..."

"A source of energy that anyone can access," Izuku added.

"One energy source for everyone," Melissa continued, her eyes brightening with inspiration.

Izuku scratched the back of his neck, pondering her words. "How about 'One for All'?"

Melissa looked at him, clearly impressed. "Yes... Yes, that could work. The OFA Reactor."

"Easy to pronounce, and as far as I know, the name isn't taken. I like it! Now all we have to do is run some more tests to ensure it works properly, and then we'll submit it to Professor Abraham. I can't wait to see his face—your first project, and you push humanity two centuries into the future!"

"Don't get too carried away, Melissa," Izuku chuckled nervously. "It's just a glorified car battery."

"Seems like I still need to work on your self-confidence," Melissa quipped, jotting down notes.

"WHY ARE YOU TAKING NOTES FOR THAT?" Izuku exclaimed, exasperated.

Izuku returned home, ready to head straight to his room, careful not to disturb his mother. She had been working tirelessly on documents sent by David, and although she worked from home, her days were just as exhausting as his. It wasn't uncommon for her to fall asleep on the couch, so Izuku had made it a habit to tread lightly. However, tonight was different. She was awake, and they had a guest.

"They told us to destroy everything... We'll only get a tenth of the pay, and that's only if the entire project is censored." It was David's voice, laced with frustration. Izuku stopped in his tracks, staying hidden from view. "We invested too much in this only to be—betrayed like this! It's like all these months of research mean nothing to them!" The anger in David's tone was palpable, making it a surprise that he hadn't shattered something nearby. "We got scammed... and there's nothing we can do about it without starting an actual war."

"Let's look at this from another angle," Inko suggested, her voice calm but serious. "The headset is still on I-Island. They have no access to the schematics or your research notes, and they can't prove that you've destroyed everything."

"And I can't just sell it to another country..." David's voice wavered. "It was supposed to address a medical issue. If I hadn't received this notice, I could have triggered an international conflict. I'm such an idiot."

"If you make the project public," Inko reasoned, "Japan might be isolated, and whoever financed the research wouldn't be able to retaliate. But other countries would try to get their hands on it for their own gain or make the same demands."

"I wish I could help you find a way to salvage the results," Inko continued, "but there's no clear procedure for handling international conflicts over products or research files. Not that I'm aware of, anyway."

"Forget it... Thank you, Inko. I just needed someone to talk to. Abraham didn't take it well—he's the only other person who knows about this project. He's my friend. We started this whole thing together. I-Island is our greatest achievement, and we thought this was the next step."

"He won't do anything reckless, will he?"

"No, no, not Abraham... He's not that kind of person. At least, I hope not." David sighed, pouring himself a glass of water. "I told Melissa today that things were about to change. Now I feel like a liar."

Inko got up from the couch and moved closer to David. "You couldn't have known what those people would do. You worked with the Japanese government because they were willing to finance everything. The only thing you've lost is money, not time. You've made so many discoveries along the way, and those can never be taken from you. The device you created is exceptional, but that doesn't mean someone else won't be able to make something similar in... what? Five? Ten years? Just tell them you destroyed everything, but keep your research. Use it."

"Yes, that's the best I can do for now," David agreed, a hint of resolve returning to his voice. "But not yet. The Japanese government will be watching us closely. We need to wait until they lose interest. I don't want to deal with black ops on my island. Unlike an actual country, we don't have heroes to protect us."

Izuku had been eavesdropping for too long. He had heard more than enough, maybe even too much. Quietly, he slipped away and made his way to his bedroom, determined to pretend he hadn't overheard the conversation. But as he lay in bed, thoughts racing, one thing became clear: if their project was as revolutionary as Melissa had suggested, maybe they could turn the tables in their favor. Izuku resolved to pour everything he had into perfecting the OFA reactor. It wasn't just a project anymore—it was a lifeline.

Nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. David's mood began to seep into Melissa, and Izuku, feeling the weight of his partner's distress, knew he couldn't keep what he overheard to himself. After some hesitation, he confessed to her about the late-night conversation between his mother and her father.

Melissa was stunned, her initial shock quickly morphing into anger. "What could my father have been working on for so long, only to be betrayed at the last moment?" she demanded, but Izuku could only shrug. The only detail he knew was that it was something to do with a headset.

Melissa frowned. "A headset? He never mentioned anything about that... and my dad's not exactly secretive. Whatever this project was, it must have been really important."

Izuku could see the determination growing in Melissa's eyes, and before he could say anything, she blurted out, "We have to succeed. We have to help my father."

"I-I thought the same thing," Izuku agreed, feeling the same sense of urgency.

"We should tell him everything," she said.

Izuku hesitated. "He's already dealing with so much... Maybe we shouldn't bother him with a project that hasn't even reached the testing phase yet."

Melissa's shoulders slumped in reluctant agreement. "You're right. But we need to make some changes. You said he was worried about Japan sending operatives to raid the island and steal secrets?"

"He didn't say it exactly like that, but yeah, that's the gist of it."

"Then we should use that to our advantage," Melissa said, her voice hardening with resolve. "In the past, nuclear bombs weren't just weapons; they were deterrents. We can do the same."

"What?" Izuku blinked, caught off guard.

"Nowadays, we fight quirk with quirk, but we can make the difference. They overestimate us, they always do—"

"Melissa, you're taking this too far," Izuku interjected, his voice firm.

"No, I'm not." Melissa's tone was resolute. "Do you know how much my father has gone through because of me? No one expects anything from his quirkless daughter, but I want to prove them wrong. I want to continue his legacy, to show that anyone can accomplish something great if they work hard enough. What the Japanese government did will not go unpunished. So you can either help me, or you can stay silent and accept whatever they throw at you."

Izuku felt a pang in his chest, like something between them had been strained, maybe even broken. But he knew this wasn't the real Melissa speaking—this was the Melissa who would go to the ends of the earth for the people she cared about. And he wasn't a coward.

"I'll help you, Melissa," he said softly. "But I'll also protect you from yourself. We're not making a weapon—we're making a shield. Do we agree on that? If you ended up suffering because of our creation, I— I would never be able to forgive myself."

Melissa moved closer, leaning against him. "You won't let me down?"

"No, I'm here," Izuku replied, feeling a surge of confidence that was unfamiliar yet comforting. He hadn't meant to echo All Might's catchphrase—it disgusted him to think about the man who had once been his idol. But these words, in this moment, felt right. They were his own, filled with sincerity.

Melissa chuckled, clearly catching the reference. Then, to Izuku's surprise, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. His body went rigid with shock, but she just laughed. "Come on, let's get to work. We have a lot to change!"

Izuku wished this moment could last forever, that things would never change between them.

The first version of the reactor was only meant to be a temporary prototype, a proof of concept. Izuku was about to dismantle it when Melissa stopped him. "You should keep it," she said. "It's our first creation. Not the final draft, but still important."

"You think so?" Izuku asked, unsure.

"Of course," Melissa replied with confidence. "One day, when you're at your lowest, you might look at it and think, 'Yes, I did it once, and I can still do it.'"

She was right, as always. Melissa would keep the subsequent versions of the reactor in her workshop, while Izuku would hold onto the original in his own. "I don't mind if you keep it as a trophy," she added with a grin. "I have enough of my own."

Izuku smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. This was more than just a project—it was a testament to their partnership, their shared dreams, and the unspoken bond that had grown between them.

The fabric that Izuku had brought back from Japan was used as planned, though not exactly in the way they initially intended. Melissa had to rethink the entire design system after showing Izuku an old sci-fi movie she had found in her father's office. The film depicted humans using combat suits to fight, a concept that intrigued them despite the impracticality of fitting so much technology into such a small space. But the special fabric used for Mount Lady's suit opened up new possibilities. Instead of using traditional cables and wires, they could create what Melissa dubbed—reluctantly at first—the first-ever "motherboard fabric." It was a crude name, but it would do until they had time to focus on details.

The fabric would be worn as a jumpsuit, with the human pilot encased in metal, while the special fabric would relay information between the pilot and various parts of the suit. It was flexible enough to resist minor external damage and significantly reduced the space needed to make the suit functional.

For the exterior, Izuku began to model an iron armature. He had already planned out the gadgets he wanted to add, designing the suit to be modular, allowing for flexibility and the ability to be restructured by anyone who understood the technology. It was like adding mods to a game—a suit that could adapt and evolve.

As another month passed, Melissa kept a close eye on her father, who still hadn't fully processed the betrayal by the Japanese government. Meanwhile, in class, Izuku noticed that Professor Samuel Abraham, David's partner and their applicable projects professor, was frequently absent. When he was present, his mood was increasingly dour.

With just one month left to finish the suit, Izuku insisted they move on to practical testing. Naturally, he volunteered as the test pilot. Equipped with thrusters on each limb connected to the suit's inner armature, he prepared for his first attempt at flight.

"Just a second, I need to make sure the reactor is connected correctly," Melissa said as she made final adjustments.

"I'm not moving until you tell me it's all clear," Izuku replied, standing firm.

"Worst case scenario, we all burn and meet in the afterlife—or in the next occurrence of reality," Melissa quipped.

"You skipped the previous injuries and all the other things that might scare me. You're making progress, Melissa," Izuku said, glancing over his shoulder to see Melissa jotting down notes in her infamous "psychology carnet."

"Can you stop?" he asked, half-exasperated.

"Sorry, your reactions are just priceless," Melissa replied with a grin. She finished strapping the reactor to Izuku and moved a few feet away. "If you catch on fire, I've got an extinguisher ready."

"Only if I catch on fire! Okay, let's start with ten percent thrust," Izuku said, stretching and bracing himself for takeoff. "Are we recording?"

Melissa gave a thumbs up. "All set."

"Okay, three, two, one—" Izuku hit the trigger, and the propulsion was so strong it sent him rocketing upward, slamming into the ceiling before crashing down onto the floor.

Melissa panicked and immediately blasted him with the extinguisher. "MMPHHH! I AM NOT ON FIRE! COLD! COLD!" Izuku shouted, flailing as the freezing foam covered him.

Melissa stopped, realizing her mistake. "Izuku! Are you hurt? Stop moving already!"

"I'm fine, really! More surprised than hurt, I promise. Guess even ten percent is too much for a single lift-off."

"Let's try a test that doesn't involve human subjects, alright?" Melissa suggested, her voice shaking slightly.

They quickly rigged up a single thruster to a fake arm, which they secured to a table. "How about three percent this time?" Izuku proposed.

"Recording has started, your move," Melissa confirmed.

"Here goes noth—" As soon as Izuku pressed the trigger, the arm tore free from its bindings and shot across the room, embedding itself in the wall. "-ing?!"

"Let's try that with... one percent?"

"We're out of straps... I'll try again. One percent should be ten times less intense than ten percent, right? That's easy math... ha... ha..." Izuku's nervous laughter didn't exactly inspire confidence. "Don't record this one, just in case. If someone finds this, I'll never hear the end of it."

"If you feel like attempting to fly again, sure." Despite his request, Melissa quietly started recording once Izuku was back in the harness. "Attempt number three, your move, Izuku."

"Okay... easy lift-off." Izuku closed his eyes and cringed as he pressed the trigger. This time, the suit carefully lifted him off the ground instead of slamming him into the ceiling. "I-I'm flying!"

"Haha! It works! Don't stop! Try to navigate around the room!" Melissa was ecstatic, her excitement bubbling over.

Izuku, on the other hand, was less enthused. He awkwardly flailed his arms, trying to control his direction but ended up careening wildly around the room like a human tornado, knocking over equipment and tools. It took him a minute to find his balance, but once he did, he began to move more comfortably around the space.

"You're getting the hang of it," Melissa noted, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"It's about using all our limbs... You wanna try?" Izuku offered, still a bit shaky but more confident.

"I feared you'd never ask." Melissa was a quick learner, and her confidence made all the difference. Within five minutes, she was performing flips mid-air. "This will be so much better once the suit is complete... though I'm concerned about how much control we'll actually need to manipulate the suit."

"What do you mean?" Izuku asked, hovering nearby.

"Linking someone's brain activity to a machine is hard—really hard. And depending on who uses the suit, it needs specific adjustments. Each human is different."

Izuku nodded. "You can't just put two people inside the same armor, though." They had hit another obstacle. "Can't we use... machine learning? Trigger specific motions based on specific movements?"

"No, but maybe... We could design a basic artificial intelligence to operate the suit's subsystems and assist the user's movements. I'm not very skilled in that field, though, and it's the only solution I can think of."

"Then I'll study it," Izuku decided. "The suit's inner parts are mostly done, and you have more experience in this field." He gestured to the deep-diving suit Melissa had designed herself. "Let me handle that."

As the days passed, they pushed forward with renewed determination. The obstacles were daunting, but together, they were unstoppable.

Melissa was in awe, feeling as if she were floating on a cloud. Her heart raced as she processed the shift in her relationship with Izuku. A part of her mind screamed that she was foolish, that she was letting emotions cloud her judgment, that developing feelings for her lab partner just because they were both quirkless was a mistake. She had always prided herself on being logical, on not letting emotions interfere with her work. But she couldn't help it. Izuku was special, brilliant, kind, and selfless—qualities she had never encountered in anyone else. Screw her doubts. Izuku was a miracle in her life. They were each other's guardian angels, and she was determined not to let anything ruin that.

Feeling emboldened by their deepening bond and the success of their project, Melissa decided it was finally time to talk to her father. The testing phases were progressing smoothly, and the external layer of the suit was fully modeled. Despite the recent stress of exams, everything was on track. She couldn't wait to see the look on her father's face when he saw what they had created.

As Melissa ascended the stairs to her father's office, her heart thudded in her chest. She paused outside the door, hearing raised voices from within. Her father's partner, Samuel Abraham, sounded furious, his voice a harsh rasp that grated against her nerves.

"Just get it out! I haven't wasted two years of my life working tirelessly to get absolutely no profit! People need money to live!"

Her father's voice was a mix of frustration and exhaustion, laced with an edge of authority she rarely heard. "Oh, please, don't use that excuse with me. You're not making any sense, Samuel. We're already rich! Just look around you!"

"I don't care! It was my prestige, my Magnum Opus! You can't just take it away from me!"

Melissa's stomach churned. She had never heard Samuel so unhinged, so desperate.

"Don't you think I'm just as pained as you are?" David's voice softened, but it was no less firm. "There's nothing else to do. We're doing the right thing, and that's all that matters. Now, unless you have constructive criticism to offer, I'll ask you as your superior to leave my office."

The door flung open, and Samuel stormed out, his face twisted with anger. He locked eyes with Melissa, his gaze hard and cold. She stood frozen, the intensity of his stare sending a chill down her spine. He brushed past her without a word, his presence lingering like a dark cloud even after he was gone. Melissa felt a knot tighten in her chest, a mix of fear and disdain coiling within her.

Steeling herself, she knocked softly on the still-open door. "Hey, Dad."

David looked up, his expression softening as he saw his daughter. But the weariness in his eyes was unmistakable. "Melissa, I—I'm really busy right now."

Melissa took a deep breath, pushing aside her anxiety. "Your secret project with Japan? It's fine... I know about it. And no, I didn't eavesdrop, and I won't tell you how I found out."

David's face paled. "Sunshine, it's not what you think—"

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm proud of your decision... and that Izuku and I have something to show you."

David hesitated, clearly torn between his work and his daughter. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temples as if to ward off a headache. "Fine, I need a break anyway. What do you want to show me?"

Melissa led him downstairs to the basement, her heart pounding with anticipation. The room was still a mess, tools and scraps of metal scattered across the floor, remnants of their late-night work sessions. She felt a flush of embarrassment as her father surveyed the chaotic scene.

"What happened here?" David asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Melissa laughed nervously. "Well... science." She opened the containment unit, revealing the OFA reactor. She watched her father's face intently, her breath catching in her throat as his expression shifted from confusion to shock, and finally, to amazement.

David approached the reactor like a man approaching a holy relic. His fingers trembled as he reached out, then pulled back, afraid to touch it. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. "It... it's... the design... it's not even hot. How did you—? Who...? You and Izuku? But that's—what isotopes and...? How are you cooling down the... And—"

He collapsed into the chair Melissa offered him, his legs unable to support him any longer.

Melissa felt a swell of pride and relief as she watched her father struggle to find words. "It was Izuku's idea at first, a universal power source, but he wanted to use it for my suit project. It's evolved so much since the beginning that it's hardly recognizable."

David looked up at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "What are you making?"

"A power armor."

"Come again?"

Melissa's heart pounded as she spoke, the words spilling out in a rush. "I know you're afraid that if word gets out about what you created, and if I-Island is attacked, there might not be a hero strong enough to stop the villains. But with our creation, anyone can reach that level—even quirkless people. This armor negates the gap between someone with a strong quirk and someone with little power."

David's expression darkened with worry. "Melissa, you—"

"I want to help people, Dad. I've never stopped trying." Melissa's voice trembled slightly, but she held her ground. "I'm not afraid of finishing this project and showing it to the world. This technology is ours; we're not sharing it. We're reaching out to help people. And if anyone dares to take it for themselves, they'll have to fight for it."

David shivered, his heart aching with a mix of fear and pride. His daughter... she understood the stakes, and she was willing to go to war if necessary. It terrified him, the thought of her in danger, of the battles she might face. But at the same time, he had never been prouder. Melissa was strong, determined, and incredibly brave. And Izuku... that clever, kind boy. What a miracle he was. They had found each other at the perfect time, and together, they were creating something extraordinary. "I am so proud of you, Melissa," David whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Your mother would be too... She's watching, I'm certain. Can you feel it?"

Melissa's throat tightened with emotion. She could feel her father's pride radiating toward her, warming her from the inside out. "Yes... Yes, Dad, I feel it."

But as father and daughter shared this quiet moment of triumph, neither of them noticed the shadow lurking in the background. Samuel had never actually left the house. Hidden away, he had overheard Melissa's conversation with her father. His mind raced with dark possibilities. The girl was out of his reach, too resolute and strong-willed. But the boy... If whatever they had created was as powerful as it seemed, then perhaps not all was lost. A sinister smile crept onto Samuel's face as he slipped away, already plotting his next move.

Izuku had no idea where to start. Melissa had sent him to the academy's archives with no specific instructions, only a vague mention that he needed to research something crucial for their project. The task of contributing to the creation of an artificial intelligence system for their suit loomed over him—a task that felt insurmountable, given that he barely knew anything about scripting or programming.

"Why did I say I would handle this part again?" he muttered to himself, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest as he wandered through the towering shelves of books and digital files. The sheer volume of information was overwhelming; so many topics, so many possibilities, and yet, no clear path. It felt like being lost in a dense forest without a map.

After what seemed like hours of aimless searching, Izuku finally stumbled upon the section on programming and coding languages. The titles alone were intimidating: Advanced Neural Networks, AI Programming for Robotics, and Quantum Computing: The Next Frontier. He sighed heavily, pulling a few beginner-looking-friendly guides from the shelves. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched the books to his chest, feeling the weight of the challenge ahead.

Finding a quiet corner of the archives, Izuku settled into a chair and opened a book titled Introduction to Artificial Intelligence. The first few chapters were straightforward enough, covering basic concepts like what AI was, its potential, and the ethical considerations surrounding it. But it wasn't long before he hit a wall of unfamiliar terminology: algorithms, machine learning, deep learning, neural networks. Each term felt like a boulder blocking his path, and the more he tried to climb over them, the more they seemed to grow.

"Okay, focus," Izuku told himself, trying to push aside the rising tide of panic. He pulled out a notebook and began jotting down key terms and definitions, forcing himself to take the information in small, digestible pieces. "If I'm going to build an AI, I need to start with the basics," he reminded himself, though the words felt hollow in the face of his uncertainty.

The more he read, the more he realized that creating a fully functional AI from scratch was far beyond his current abilities. It was like trying to scale a mountain with no climbing gear. But then, a thought struck him—he didn't have to start from nothing. Maybe he could find an existing framework and build on it, tweaking and adapting it to suit their needs. The idea gave him a small glimmer of hope, a foothold in the otherwise daunting task ahead.

His thoughts drifted back to the project at hand: the armored suit. The AI needed to assist the user in combat situations, monitor vital signs, analyze threats, and even control various suit functions. It had to be fast, responsive, and capable of learning and adapting to the user's preferences and combat style. The more he thought about it, the more his mind raced with possibilities, but each idea also carried a weight of doubt.

"I need something simple but scalable," he mused aloud, flipping through another book. The words felt like a lifeline, something solid to hold onto in the vast ocean of uncertainty.

And then, he found it: a section on basic AI assistants. The text explained how simple AI systems, like virtual assistants or basic chatbots, were programmed. These systems used natural language processing and machine learning to interact with users and perform tasks. It wasn't as advanced as what he envisioned for the suit, but it was a start. His heart leaped slightly, the first real spark of excitement he'd felt since beginning his research.

"If I can get the AI to understand basic commands and gather data, I can build from there," Izuku thought, a sense of determination beginning to take root. He began sketching out a rough plan, his hand moving quickly as ideas flowed more freely:

Learn the Basics of Coding: He would start by mastering a coding language frequently used in AI development, like Python. Melissa had recommended it for its simplicity and versatility.

Create a Basic AI Framework: Using what he learned, he would build a simple AI that could perform basic tasks—like recognizing voice commands, processing simple data, and interacting with the user.

Implement Machine Learning: Once the basic AI was functional, he would dive into machine learning, enabling the AI to learn from interactions and improve its responses over time, adapting to the user's needs and preferences.

Integrate with the Suit: The final step would be integrating the AI with the suit's systems, allowing it to control various functions and provide real-time feedback to the user.

As he wrote, a renewed sense of purpose filled him. It wouldn't be easy—nothing worth doing ever was—but at least now he had a plan, a direction. The fog of uncertainty began to lift as he spent the rest of the day buried in books, taking notes, and beginning to code his first simple AI model on the academy's computers.

Hours passed in a blur, the outside world fading away as Izuku lost himself in the process. He was still a long way from creating the sophisticated AI that would power the suit, but this was a start. He was learning, experimenting, and slowly, but surely, gaining confidence in his ability to tackle the challenges ahead.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the archives in a warm, golden glow, Izuku stretched, feeling the ache in his muscles from sitting too long. He glanced around and realized he was the only one left in the vast, silent room. A mix of exhaustion and satisfaction washed over him. He had made progress today—real progress—and that was something to be proud of.

Just as he began packing up his notes, a hand suddenly stopped him from gathering a few loose papers. Izuku's heart skipped a beat as he looked up, startled. "S-Studious as ever, Midoriya. I admire your dedication."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the voice. "P-Professor Abraham! G-Good—" He glanced out the window, noting the darkening sky. "Evening already?"

"Yes, quite," Samuel Abraham replied, his tone amiable, though something in his eyes made Izuku uneasy. "What are you working on? Many students have already submitted their projects. I believe you're partnering with Shield, aren't you?"

"Uh, y-yes, sir." Izuku felt a sudden wave of discomfort, a sense of dread gnawing at the edges of his mind. There was something off about Professor Abraham, something that didn't sit right with him. But he couldn't put his finger on it. He did his best to brush off the feeling, reminding himself that Samuel was David's partner and could be trusted. He wasn't like the teachers at Aldera, who had always made him feel small and insignificant. So why did he feel so uneasy? "We're still working on the theory," he added, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, but I thought Melissa showed it to her father already." Samuel's words made Izuku freeze. Did she? If Samuel knew, then... "I had to leave early, so I couldn't see it, but when I saw you, I thought you could give me more details. I might even be able to help. I am a professor, after all."

Izuku's mind raced, trying to figure out what to say. "W-Well... at the moment, I'm working on artificial intelligence. The subject is quite new to me. Uh, it's related to our project because we need something to passively assist the user when they interact with our device."

Samuel raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. "Your... device? Oh, I must see it. How about you let me inside your workshop? I don't delve into favoritism, but I really want to push you all to the top."

The professor's insistence sent a cold shiver down Izuku's spine, but he found himself nodding despite the unease. He couldn't muster the strength to say no, especially not to a professor. So, he led Samuel to his workshop, making sure to avoid Melissa's space. She wouldn't appreciate him letting someone else, even a professor, spy on their work. "Well, that's the first draft," Izuku said, gesturing to the original reactor displayed inside a glass case.

Samuel took a long look at it, his expression unreadable. If he was impressed, he hid it well. "The first draft?"

"Y-Yes," Izuku stammered, his nerves fraying under the professor's intense gaze. "I keep it as a souvenir. Melissa is keeping the others in a safe containment unit. N-not that they're unstable! But you never know what could happen."

Samuel nodded, appearing to agree with Izuku's caution. The student showed him some of his notes, trying to distract him from the discomfort gnawing at him, but Samuel's eyes wandered to the blueprints scattered on a nearby table. His gaze lingered on the drawings, a calculating gleam in his eyes that sent another chill down Izuku's spine.

"What do you think, Professor?" Izuku asked, trying to keep the conversation focused on his work and away from whatever sinister thoughts might be running through Samuel's mind.

"I believe you have everything handled," Samuel replied, his voice laced with something that made Izuku's skin crawl. "You've created something that will change the world. I sincerely hope you continue on this path." There was an unmistakable note of truth in Samuel's words, though it was tinged with a darkness that Izuku couldn't quite place. The professor clearly hoped that Izuku and Melissa would keep upgrading their designs, but for what purpose? Izuku wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"I-I will," Izuku stammered, his heart pounding in his chest as he forced a smile. "Thank you, Professor."

Samuel's eyes flicked back to the blueprints before he finally turned to leave. "I'll let you rest. I need some myself. Good evening, Midoriya."

"G-goodnight, Professor!" Izuku called after him, relief washing over him as Samuel left the workshop. But the sense of dread lingered, clinging to him like a shadow. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't figure out what. As he packed up his things and prepared to leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that Professor Abraham had seen more than he let on—and that he had plans of his own.

Samuel locked himself into his office, the cold steel door clicking shut with an ominous finality. The soft glow of his monitor was the only light in the room, casting long shadows that seemed to dance on the walls, mirroring the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. He knew better than to connect directly to I-Island's network—too many prying eyes and ears—so he routed his communication through a series of encrypted channels, ensuring absolute discretion.

Finally, the screen flickered, and the words "Audio Only" appeared. Samuel smirked. He didn't need to see her face to know who he was dealing with. "Miss President," he began, his voice smooth, almost too casual given the gravity of what he was about to propose.

"Professor Abraham... what owes me the pleasure of receiving your call this early in the morning?" Her voice was crisp, professional, with a sharp edge that hinted at her no-nonsense attitude.

Samuel leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the desk. "I believe I can help you obtain what you desire while ensuring David takes the fall for any... incident that may occur in the process." He let his words hang in the air, a baited hook, waiting for the inevitable bite.

The silence on the other end was palpable, tense, as if she were weighing every possible outcome. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke, her tone now colder, more calculated. "You can get us the headset and the schematics?"

A satisfied grin spread across Samuel's face. "Of course. In exchange, I will be offered asylum in Japan and a comfortable retreat. As a gesture of goodwill, I'll even offer my services as a bonus." His voice was confident, the tone of a man who knew he was negotiating from a position of power.

"If such an operation fails, it will have huge repercussions on us," the President replied, her skepticism evident. "What are your guarantees?"

Samuel's grin faded slightly, but his resolve did not waver. He knew he had to convince her, had to make her see that he was their best—no, their only—option. "I can turn I-Island's security system against itself," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, as if he were sharing a deadly secret. "There are no heroes here—only tourists and scientists. They will be completely defenseless."

Another pause, shorter this time, as the President considered his words. "So all you ask of us is to provide the muscle?" There was a faint hint of intrigue in her voice now, a sign that she was warming to his proposal.

"That can be arranged," she continued. "Now, let's talk about the details."

As the conversation shifted to logistics and planning, Samuel's mind raced ahead, already picturing the chaos he would unleash, the power he would wield, and the safe, comfortable life that awaited him far from the ruins he would leave behind. He knew there was no turning back now. He had set things in motion that could not be undone.

But that was the thrill of it, wasn't it? To play the game, to manipulate the pieces on the board, to emerge victorious no matter the cost. As the discussion continued, Samuel couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. He was on the brink of something monumental, something that would change everything.

And for the first time in a long while, Samuel felt like he was the leader of his own project.