Over the past two months, the Avengers have been adapting to their new reality. Steve Rogers, in particular, has been spending his time working at a mental hospital, finding ways to contribute to the community while also processing the strange turn of events that brought them to this world. He's been keeping an eye on the patients, but his mind often drifts to thoughts of Tony Stark and Wade Wilson, who are still missing.

James Rhodes, or Rhodey, has managed to secure a job, though the details of his work have been kept under wraps. He's been using this time to stay sharp, trying to adapt to a world without his War Machine suit.

The others have been keeping a low profile. Vision has been working on understanding the local technology and culture, quietly integrating himself into their systems to learn more. Ben Grimm, aka The Thing, has been spending his time in a makeshift gym he set up, trying to stay in shape and venting his frustrations on some heavily reinforced equipment.

Logan, or Wolverine, has been restless, constantly on the move. He's been spending a lot of time out in the wilderness, letting his instincts guide him. When he's not out there, he's been keeping tabs on local criminal activity, biding his time until they're called into action.

Peter Parker, unable to stay still for long, has been exploring the city under the radar, getting a feel for the place, and trying to help out where he can without drawing too much attention. He's been eager for the day he can return to being Spider-Man in full capacity. Simon Williams has been doing much the same, though he's also been diving into his own training regime, trying to stay in peak condition for when they're finally called up to join U.A. and the hero world proper.

Steve Rogers walks through the quiet halls of the mental hospital, his boots making soft sounds against the polished floor. He stops by a room where an older man with tired eyes sits, staring out the window.

Steve sits beside him, offering a gentle smile. "How are you doing today, Mr. Tanaka?"

The man slowly turns to look at Steve, his expression softening. "Better, Captain. The sun's shining today...reminds me of when I used to go fishing with my son."

Steve listens intently, nodding as the man continues to share his memories. He spends a few minutes talking with him before moving on to the next patient, offering words of encouragement and listening to their stories. His presence brings a sense of calm to the patients, his compassion evident in every interaction.

As he finishes his rounds, Steve heads towards the common area. A few patients are scattered around, some reading, others quietly chatting. His attention is drawn to a woman sitting alone by the window, her white hair cascading over her shoulders. She's dressed in a simple white gown, her eyes distant as she gazes outside.

Steve approaches her, noticing the calm yet melancholy aura she exudes. "Mind if I join you?" he asks softly.

The woman turns to him, her eyes meeting his. There's something in her gaze that makes his heart skip a beat—something familiar and yet profoundly mysterious.

"Of course," she replies, her voice soft and warm.

Steve sits down beside her, and for a moment, neither of them speaks. They simply sit in silence, the sun casting a gentle light across the room.

"I'm Steve," he finally says, offering his hand.

"Rei," she responds, shaking his hand with a small, almost shy smile.

"Beautiful day outside," Steve comments, glancing out the window.

Rei nods, her gaze still fixed on the world beyond the glass. "It is... I try to enjoy the little things when I can."

Steve glances out at the trees swaying gently in the breeze, then back at Rei, who seems lost in thought.

"So, how long have you been here?" Steve asks gently, trying to gauge the best way to start the conversation.

Rei blinks and looks at him, a small, almost wistful smile playing on her lips. "Long enough to see a few seasons change. The days here... they blend together after a while."

Steve nods, understanding. "Yeah, I get that. I've only been working here a couple of months myself. Time does seem to move differently in a place like this."

She tilts her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What made you decide to work here, Steve? It doesn't seem like the kind of place someone like you would end up."

Steve smiles, but there's a hint of something deeper in his expression. "It's a long story. Let's just say, when we ended up here—my friends and I—we had to find ways to stay busy. Help where we could. And I've always believed in doing what I can to help others."

Rei looks at him thoughtfully. "That sounds like something a hero would say."

Steve chuckles softly. "I've been called that before. But here, I'm just... a guy trying to make sense of things. Trying to find a way back home."

Her gaze softens as she studies him. "You miss it, don't you? Your home."

Steve's expression becomes distant for a moment. "Yeah, I do. But more than that, I miss the people. The ones I couldn't bring with me."

There's a brief silence, and Rei places a gentle hand on his arm. "It sounds like you're carrying a lot with you."

Steve looks down at her hand, then back up at her, his eyes meeting hers. "We all have our burdens, right? But being here, helping out... it makes it easier. Gives me a purpose."

Rei nods, understanding. "What do you do here, exactly?"

"Mostly I talk to people, like I did with Mr. Tanaka earlier. Listen to their stories, help them work through whatever they're dealing with. Sometimes it's just about being there, giving them someone to lean on." Steve smiles gently. "I guess you could say I'm a kind of counselor here. Not officially, but... I do what I can."

"That sounds... nice," Rei says, her voice soft. "To have someone like you around. I think the patients here are lucky."

Steve shakes his head modestly. "I'm just trying to help, like I always have. It's not much, but it's something."

Rei's smile grows a little warmer, and she turns to face him fully. "That's all any of us can do, isn't it? Just... try to help, in our own way."

Steve nods, feeling that connection between them grow a little stronger. "Yeah. I think you're right."

As they continue talking, the conversation flows naturally, touching on lighter topics and shared thoughts.

As their conversation continues, Steve and Rei find themselves laughing softly, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten. Rei leans in slightly, her eyes sparkling as she recounts a story about one of the nurses trying to teach an older patient how to use a tablet. Steve grins, picturing the scene in his mind.

"And then," Rei says, her voice filled with amusement, "he just handed it back and said, 'This thing's smarter than I am—let it figure out what's wrong!'"

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. "Sounds like something my friend Tony would say, only with a lot more sarcasm."

Rei looks at him with admiration. "You've really lived an incredible life, haven't you?"

Steve shrugs modestly. "It's had its moments. But, honestly, sitting here talking with you... this is pretty nice too."

Rei blushes slightly, brushing a strand of her white hair behind her ear. "I... I think so too. It's been a while since I've had a conversation like this."

Steve's smile grows warmer. "Well, maybe we can make a habit of it. I'd like that."

Before Rei can respond, a voice interrupts them. "Hey, Rogers."

Steve looks up to see one of the hospital staff standing in the doorway, a friendly but firm expression on their face. "Your shift's over, man. You're free to go."

Steve nods, then turns back to Rei. "Looks like it's time for me to head out."

Rei smiles softly, though there's a hint of reluctance in her eyes. "It was really nice talking with you, Steve."

Steve stands up, offering her a hand to help her up. "Likewise, Rei. I'll see you around?"

Rei takes his hand, her grip gentle but warm. "I'd like that."

As Steve walks out of the room, he glances back one more time, catching Rei's eyes.

———

After leaving the hospital, Steve makes his way to U.A. High School.

Once inside, Nezu, the small but sharp-eyed principal, greets him warmly. "Good afternoon, Captain Rogers," Nezu says, his tone formal but friendly.

"Afternoon, Nezu," Steve replies with a nod, still getting used to the sight of a talking animal leading an institution like this. "I'm ready to meet my partner."

"Excellent," Nezu says with a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. "Right this way."

They walk through the halls of U.A., passing by students who seem focused on their studies and training. Steve notices the determination in their faces, reminding him of the young soldiers he used to train back during the war.

As they approach Class 1-A, Nezu slows down, motioning for Steve to follow him quietly. They enter the classroom, where Steve immediately spots a man standing at the front. His hair is dark and unkempt, his eyes half-lidded, as though he hasn't slept in weeks. His whole demeanor radiated exhaustion. He's wearing a black outfit with a long scarf wrapped around his neck, and there's a certain weight to his presence.

"This is Shota Aizawa," Nezu introduced. "He'll be your partner when you start here."

Steve takes one look at Aizawa, and immediately, his instincts kick in. The man before him looked like someone who's been through the wringer—someone who's seen too much and doesn't care to talk about it. His body language, the tired look in his eyes, and the way he holds himself all scream one thing to Steve: This guy is depressed.

Aizawa glances up, his gaze meeting Steve's. "So, you're the new guy," he says, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with a sort of weary resignation.

"Yeah," Steve replies, offering his hand. "Steve Rogers. Looking forward to working with you."

Aizawa stares at Steve's hand for a moment before taking it in a firm but brief handshake. "Shota Aizawa," he says simply, then lets go. "I'm sure you'll figure things out quickly."

There's an awkward pause, during which Steve sizes him up further. He's seen that look before, in soldiers who've been on the front lines for too long, and he knows it's not something that goes away easily. It's a heavy burden to carry, and Steve can't help but feel a pang of concern for his new partner.

Nezu, ever perceptive, seems to pick up on the tension. "Aizawa is one of our best," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I'm confident the two of you will work well together."

Aizawa doesn't react to the compliment, simply turning back to his desk and pulling out a stack of papers. "I hope you don't mind a lot of paperwork," he mutters, not looking up.

Steve chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. "I've had my fair share, trust me."

Aizawa nods but doesn't say anything more. Steve can tell this is a man who's used to keeping people at arm's length, and he wonders just what kind of battles—literal or figurative—Aizawa has fought to end up this way.

As they prepare to leave, Nezu turns to Steve. "We'll go over more details later, but for now, take some time to get to know the school and your future colleagues."

"Will do," Steve replies, though his thoughts remain on Aizawa.

As they linger in the classroom for a moment longer, Steve decides to break the silence. He turns to Aizawa, who's busy sorting through his papers.

"So, Aizawa," Steve begins, trying to gauge the man's mood, "what should I expect when I start working here? I've got some training tactics from my days in the military that might be useful. Granted, they're a bit dated—they're from World War II."

Aizawa pauses, the pen in his hand hovering over the paper. He slowly lifts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at Steve.

"World War II?" Aizawa repeats, the words coming out slowly as if he's processing what Steve just said. "How old are you?"

Steve chuckles, expecting the question. It's one he's gotten a lot since coming out of the ice. "Technically, I'm over a hundred years old," he replies, a hint of humor in his voice. "But I spent a good seventy years frozen, so physically, I'm still in my late twenties."

"So, you're telling me you fought in World War II, got frozen, and now you're here, a century later, working as a hero." Aizawa asked. "This guy must have one helluva quirk to keep him alive in the ice." Aizawa thought

"That's about the gist of it," Steve says with a nod. "I've had to adjust to a lot of new things. The world's changed a lot since I was active. But at the end of the day, training is training. The principles don't change much, even if the methods do."

Aizawa leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he considers Steve's words. "You're not wrong. Discipline, strategy, and understanding your enemy—those things don't go out of style. But this is a school for heroes, and these kids are... unique. They've got quirks, powers that can be as unpredictable as they are powerful. You'll have to adapt your tactics to account for that."

"I'm used to dealing with unpredictability," Steve replies. "And I'm a quick learner."

Aizawa gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Good. Because these kids are our future. They need someone who can push them, who can teach them how to be better. If you've got any tricks up your sleeve from your time in the military, I'm open to hearing them."

Steve smiles. "I'll do my best to contribute. And maybe I'll pick up a few new tricks from you, too."

Aizawa shrugs, his usual stoic demeanor back in place. "We'll see. Just be prepared for anything. These students... they have a way of surprising you."

Aizawa, still leaning back in his chair, seems to consider something for a moment before he asks, "So, what's your quirk, then? Must be something pretty special to be working here."

Steve pauses, realizing that the question would come up eventually. He'd been explaining his situation to people ever since he arrived in this world, but it still felt strange to have to clarify. "Actually, I don't have a quirk."

Aizawa's eyes narrow slightly, and he uncrosses his arms, leaning forward just a bit. "You're telling me you've been operating as a hero—someone who was frozen for decades, fought in a war, and yet... you don't have a quirk?"

"That's right," Steve replies, his tone even and straightforward. "Where I'm from, quirks aren't exactly a thing. I'm what you might call a super-soldier—enhanced physical abilities, heightened senses, increased stamina. But it's all thanks to a serum, not something I was born with."

Aizawa studies him carefully, as if trying to gauge whether Steve is telling the truth. After a long moment, he finally nods. "So, you're quirkless, but you've still managed to hold your own in your world. That's... unexpected."

Steve smiles slightly. "You don't need a quirk to do the right thing. To protect people. I've fought alongside plenty of people with extraordinary abilities, but at the end of the day, it's not about power—it's about how you use what you have."

Aizawa gives a thoughtful hum. "There's truth in that. We've got a few students here who could learn from that mindset. Sometimes, they get too caught up in their quirks and forget that being a hero is more than just having power."

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "That's something I hope to teach them, if I can. Heroism isn't defined by quirks or abilities. It's about making the hard choices, standing up for what's right, even when it's not easy."

Aizawa seems to mull this over, then nods again, more decisively this time. "That could be useful around here. We've got a few students who think their quirks are everything. Maybe hearing it from someone who's accomplished so much without one will give them a different perspective."

"I'm looking forward to it," Steve says earnestly. "It's why I'm here—to help however I can."

Aizawa leans back in his chair once more, looking slightly more relaxed now. "Then I guess we'll see how the students take to you. Just be ready—they can be a handful."

Steve chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the heads-up."

———

Peter Parker wandered through the bustling streets of the city, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he took in the sights and sounds around him. The towering buildings, the flashing signs, the crowds of people—it all reminded him so much of home, yet it was all so different. The language, the culture, even the way people carried themselves—it was a constant reminder that he wasn't in New York anymore.

He sighed, his thoughts drifting to the familiar red and blue suit hidden away in his bag. It had been weeks since he'd put it on, since he'd swung between buildings, since he'd done anything as Spider-Man. The itch to get back out there was growing stronger every day, but Steve had made it clear—they needed to wait until their had hero licenses.

It was driving Peter crazy.

As he walked, he found himself in a quieter part of the city, away from the hustle and bustle. The sounds of traffic and chatter faded into the background, replaced by the distant hum of life in a city that never truly stopped moving. Peter looked up at the sky, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow across the skyline.

He couldn't help but think about Aunt May, Ned, and MJ. His chest tightened as memories flooded his mind—May's warm smile, Ned's endless enthusiasm, MJ's gentle laugh.

He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen for a long moment. There were no messages, no missed calls. He hadn't been able to bring himself to delete their numbers yet. It felt like erasing them from his life completely, and he wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Peter shoved the phone back into his pocket, his fists clenching. He wanted to be Spider-Man again, to throw himself into something—anything—that could distract him from the pain, the loss, the overwhelming sense of being alone in a world that wasn't his own. But Steve had made him promise to wait, to not draw attention to themselves until they were sure it was safe. He understood the logic, but it didn't make the waiting any easier.

He continued to walk, his pace slowing as he reached a small park. It was empty, save for a few stray birds pecking at the ground. Peter sat down on a bench, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked out at the trees swaying gently in the evening breeze.

"Why does it still hurt so much?" he whispered to himself. He knew why—losing the people you cared about never stopped hurting. You just learned to live with it. But sometimes, in the quiet moments like this, the pain was sharp and fresh, as if it had just happened.

As Peter sat on the bench, lost in his thoughts, a sudden tingling sensation shot through the back of his neck—a feeling he knew all too well. His Spider-Sense was going off. Instinctively, he snapped his head up and reached out with one hand just in time to catch a ball flying toward him. The impact was light, but it was enough to snap him out of his reverie.

Blinking, Peter looked down at the ball in his hand—a small, rubber ball, the kind kids would play with. He then looked up and saw two small children standing a short distance away, staring at him with wide eyes. They seemed to be around six or seven years old, a boy and a girl, both dressed in casual clothes. The boy had short brown hair, while the girl's hair was styled in twin pigtails.

Behind them, a few feet away, stood a teenage girl who Peter assumed was their older sister. She was around his age, maybe a little younger, with shoulder-length green hair and large, round eyes that reminded him of a frog's. She wore a simple green sweater and jeans, and there was a gentle, almost serene air about her.

Peter stood up from the bench, holding the ball out toward the kids. "Hey, you guys dropped this," he said with a small smile.

The boy stepped forward hesitantly, taking the ball from Peter's hand. "Thanks, mister!" he said, his voice bright and full of energy.

The girl nodded, clutching her brother's hand. "Yeah, thank you!"

Peter chuckled softly, feeling a bit awkward. "No problem. You guys should be more careful, though. Don't want to hit anyone by accident."

The older girl, who had been watching the interaction with a calm expression, walked over to them. "Sorry about that," she said, her voice quiet but clear. "My siblings get a little carried away sometimes. Ribbit"

Peter shook his head. "It's no big deal. I'm just glad I was paying attention." He glanced at her, noticing the way she seemed to be appraising him with those large, thoughtful eyes. "Are you their sister?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah, I'm Tsuyu Asui. And these are my little siblings, Samidare and Satsuki." She gestured to the two children, who were now bouncing the ball between them.

"Nice to meet you, Tsuyu," Peter replied, offering her a friendly smile. "I'm Peter Parker."

Tsuyu returned the smile, though it was more of a small, polite curve of her lips. "Nice to meet you too, Peter. I've never seen you before. You're not from around here, are you?"

Peter hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure how much he should say, but something about Tsuyu's calm demeanor made him feel like he could trust her, at least a little. "Yeah, you could say that. Just moved here." That what is the best way you could put it without sounding like a crazy person.

Then, noticing the kids starting to wander off with the ball again, he added, "You should probably keep an eye on them. Don't want them getting into too much trouble."

Tsuyu glanced over at her siblings, who were now chasing each other around a nearby tree, and sighed softly. "Yeah, they're a handful. But it's worth it." She looked back at Peter, her gaze steady. "If you ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Tsuyu. I appreciate that." Peter felt a warmth in his chest at her offer. It had been a while since someone offered him genuine help like that.

With a nod and another small smile, Tsuyu turned to gather her siblings. "Come on, you two. It's getting late."

"Okay, Tsu!" the kids chorused, running back to her.

As they walked away, Peter watched them go, a small smile on his face.

———

Simon wandered through the aisles of the music store, his fingers brushing lightly over the polished wood of various guitars and the smooth surfaces of drum kits. The place was a treasure trove for anyone with a passion for music, and Simon found himself lost in the array of instruments. He had always found solace in music, and the store's atmosphere was a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of recent events.

As he picked up a guitar and began strumming absentmindedly, he heard a voice behind him.

"Nice choice. That's a classic."

Simon turned to see a girl with short, purple hair and strikingly unique looking earlobes that Simon couldn't tell if they looked like jackhammer's or plugs. She wore a black band t-shirt and had a cool, confident air about her. Her eyes were focused on the guitar in his hands, and she had a genuine, appreciative smile on her face.

"Yeah, it's a really nice instrument," Simon said, nodding. "I've been trying to find something to help me unwind. Music's always been a good escape for me."

The girl raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "You play?"

"A bit," Simon replied, setting the guitar back on its stand. "I used to play more before everything got so... hectic. Just trying to get back into it."

The girl's eyes lit up with interest. "You know, music can be a great way to clear your head. I'm Kyoka Jiro, by the way. I work here part-time."

"Simon Williams," he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you, Jiro."

Jiro extended a hand, which Simon shook. "Nice to meet you too. If you're looking for recommendations or just want to chat about music, I'm your girl. What kind of music are you into?"

Simon chuckled, appreciating her enthusiasm. "Mostly rock and alternative. But I'm open to pretty much anything."

"Awesome," Jiro said, gesturing toward a section of the store. "We've got some great selections in the rock and alternative section. I can show you around if you'd like."

Simon smiled, feeling more at ease. "I'd like that. Lead the way."

As they walked through the store, Jiro shared her insights on various artists and bands, and Simon found himself enjoying the conversation more than he'd expected. Her passion for music was evident, and her knowledge was impressive.

After a while, Jiro paused by a rack of vinyl records. "Have you ever listened to any classic rock albums on vinyl? There's something about the sound quality that's just... different. In a good way."

Simon shook his head. "Can't say I have. Maybe you could recommend a few?"

"Absolutely," Jiro said, picking out a few albums and handing them to Simon. "These are some of my favorites. Trust me, they're worth a listen."

Simon took the records with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Jiro. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," she replied with a friendly grin. "It's always nice to meet someone who appreciates good music."

As the afternoon wore on, Simon and Jiro continued to chat about their favorite bands and musicians.

By the time Simon left the store, he was already planning on an excuse to come back.

———

Rhodey sat at the kitchen table of the apartment, surrounded by blueprints and schematics for his armor upgrades. He was deep in thought, sketching out designs and jotting down ideas when his phone buzzed with an incoming call.

He glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number. Frowning, he answered.

"Hello? Oh, hello Commissioner."

A voice crackled through the speaker, barely containing its excitement. "Rhodey! We found him! We found Deadpool!"

Rhodey's eyes widened. "Deadpool? Are you serious?"

"Yep, and you're not going to believe where we found him!"

———

Meanwhile, somewhere in the city, Deadpool was engaged in an epic battle with a group of antagonists. He was flipping through the air, his katanas flashing in the sunlight. The scene was chaotic, with explosions and dramatic poses as he effortlessly dispatched hisveuaiydqtfuotwflyjfzguyttgtffff

Deadpool: "Hey, hey, hey! Looks like the author's taking a nap! Guess I'm in charge now. So, here's the deal—I just finished my fight scene, and it was fantastic. The bad guys were all defeated, and I was looking absolutely amazing. But now, I'm off to find Rhodey and see if he's got any updates on that whole 'finding Tony Stark' thing. Oh, and before I forget—give a big shoutout to our sleeping writer. We'll make sure he wakes up with a fun surprise!"

Deadpool, with his trademark grin, turned to face the camera, breaking the fourth wall as he continued to narrate.

Deadpool: "And just like that, the plot thickens! See you on the flip side, folks. I've got a group of Avengers to track down, and who knows, maybe I'll even bring some donuts. You know, for dramatic effect."

With that, Deadpool bounded off into the distance.

Alright, folks, let me give you the rundown on what's been going down since I made my grand entrance into this wacky world. Buckle up, 'cause this is gonna be a wild ride!

So, after my not-so-great escape from wherever-the-heck-I-was, I popped into this new dimension like a surprise party no one asked for. First thing's first, I had to lay low. You know, just your average "laying low" which for me involves hanging out in random bars, eating tacos, and occasionally stopping a bank robbery or two.

Then there's Chameleon, who wakes up in a bar. Classic. But instead of having a chill drink and pondering life, he finds himself in a smoky joint with two very shady characters. These guys? I'm talking about the kind of guys you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley—Tomura and Kurogiri. These guys? They're like the Batman and Robin of evil, but, you know, without the Batman part. Tomura's all "I'm super dark and brooding" and Kurogiri's like his overly calm and collected sidekick. Real peachy fellows. They introduced him to their "bodyguards"—Scorpion and Tarantula. I mean, come on, with names like that, how can you not love 'em?

Alright, folks, let's rewind the tape and see what Deadpool's been up to these last two months. Spoiler alert: it's been a wild ride!

So, I landed in this funky dimension—pretty sure it wasn't on my GPS. First thing's first: I needed a place to crash. Found a cozy little hideout and made myself at home. Who knew I could be so good at redecorating? And by redecorating, I mean I kinda just threw my stuff everywhere. But hey, a man's gotta make a mess to make a home, right?

Next on the agenda: exploring the local scene. Turns out, this place has its own set of heroes and villains. Cool, right? I've been mingling with the locals, learning their quirks, and generally causing a bit of mayhem—because why not? I tried to blend in, but, as you might guess, blending isn't exactly my forte. Got into a few scuffles with some of the not-so-friendly folks around here, and I'm pretty sure I'm on a few 'watch out for this guy' lists.

Oh, and I managed to get into a little fight with some villainy types who thought they could take me down. Spoiler alert: they didn't. In fact, I might've made a few new enemies, but that's par for the course. Who doesn't love a good brawl?

Now, the fun really began when I had to dodge a heap of bad guys who seemed to think they were auditioning for a role in a Saturday morning cartoon. From exploding buildings to awkwardly timed quips, I was knee-deep in action and sass. I had to keep my mask on straight and my swords sharper—let me tell you, that's no easy feat when you've got enemies that pop up like Whack-a-Mole.

Then there was that whole thing with the other heroes. I mean, seriously, some of these guys are way too serious. So, I've been keeping my distance and staying under the radar. It's not easy being Deadpool in a world where everyone's so, you know, 'serious' about saving the day.

And now, here I am, narrating my life's greatest hits. Because let's face it, who better to tell the tale than me?

Okay, so let's fast-forward to the latest chapter of my epic saga. Things have been pretty wild recently. Picture this: Deadpool, the anti-hero with a penchant for chaos, finds himself in a knock-down drag-out fight with a particularly nasty villain. Let's just say, the villain had a few too many bad guys in his rolodex and a few too many tricks up his sleeve.

Now, this is where things get interesting. The fight ended up causing a bit of a mess—imagine fireworks, a bulldozer, a very angry shark, and a few other random objects that should never be in the same place at the same time. It's like a circus had an explosion and everyone's still trying to figure out what went wrong. I'm talking about things that don't even belong together. I'm sure you're wondering how a shark even got involved. I still have no idea.

Anyway, my heroic attempt to save the day—or at least my attempt at not making things worse—led to some serious collateral damage. So, guess what? I got arrested. Yeah, the old 'acting as a vigilante' thing is a real bummer sometimes. Turns out, smashing things and fighting bad guys without proper paperwork isn't as glamorous as it sounds.

So there I am, behind bars, the police trying to figure out what to do with me. They're all like, 'Who's this guy?' and I'm like, 'Name's Deadpool, but you can call me Wade.' They were not amused. Someone made a call, and I'm sitting here thinking about how this dimension is a whole new level of messed up.

———

Logan and Rhodey arrived at the police station, their expressions a mix of impatience and mild exasperation. The building loomed over them, a stark contrast to the bustling city outside.

Logan grumbled as they walked inside, "I can't believe we're picking up Deadpool. I've dealt with a lot of crazies, but this guy... He's on another level."

Rhodey nodded, checking his watch. "Yeah, well, he's been making waves. The sooner we get him out of here, the sooner we can keep him from doing something that would get us in trouble."

They approached the front desk, where a tired officer looked up from his paperwork. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're here to pick up Deadpool," Rhodey said, flashing his ID. "We got a call about his release."

The officer's eyes widened slightly but he nodded. "I'll call to let them know you're here."

A few minutes later, a uniformed officer led Logan and Rhodey back through the maze of corridors to a holding cell. Inside, Deadpool was lounging on a bench, his mask slightly askew.

As they approached, Deadpool's eyes lit up with mock excitement. "Hey, look who finally showed up! Logan and Rhodey! I hope you brought snacks!"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky we're here to get you out. Otherwise, I'd leave you here."

Deadpool shrugged with a grin. "Hey, I made friends with the guards. They think I'm hilarious. But I guess I'd rather be out with you guys. Let's get this show on the road!"

Rhodey unlocked the cell and let Deadpool out. "We've got a lot to discuss. Let's get moving."

As they left the station, Deadpool chattered animatedly about his recent exploits and the events leading up to his arrest. Logan and Rhodey listened with a mix of skepticism and resignation, knowing that with Deadpool involved, things were rarely straightforward.

As they made their way back to their temporary quarters, Logan turned to Deadpool with a gruff tone. "Alright, Wade, enough with the jokes. Where have you been for the past two months?"

Deadpool adjusted his mask and gave a theatrical sigh. "Ah, the mysterious two-month gap. Well, let's see. I've been doing the usual—fighting off bad guys, causing mayhem, and trying not to get myself killed. You know, the superhero life."

Logan shot him a skeptical look. "Cut the crap. We've been dealing with a lot of stuff here. What exactly have you been up to?"

Deadpool scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, fine. Let's break it down. I was bouncing around town, doing my usual vigilante shtick. Things were pretty quiet for a while, but then I got into a bit of a kerfuffle with a local villain. There was some collateral damage—bulldozer, fireworks, a shark, and a few other things that didn't exactly go together."

Rhodey interjected, "And that's what got you arrested?"

Deadpool nodded vigorously. "Yep, got thrown in the clink because of that little incident. But hey, it wasn't all bad. Made some new friends, had some interesting conversations with the local law enforcement. They were very... appreciative of my 'unique' talents."

Logan muttered, "I bet."

Deadpool continued, "So, they called you guys in, and here we are. But I'm back now, and we can get down to business. What's the scoop on the villains? I heard some juicy tidbits while I was behind bars."

Logan shook his head, bemused. "We've got plenty to catch up on. Just try to stay out of trouble for a while, alright?"

Deadpool saluted playfully. "Aye aye, Cap'n Logan! Trouble will have to wait."

Steve Rogers walked into the room, his gaze scanning the familiar faces.

But as his eyes settled on the figure lounging casually on the couch, a wave of surprise washed over him.

"Wade?" Steve asked, incredulity in his voice.

Deadpool, dressed in his iconic red and black suit, turned his head and gave a casual salute. "The one and only! Miss me, Cap?"

Steve couldn't help but shake his head, a mix of relief and confusion on his face. "What...how are you here?"

Deadpool stretched out on the couch, looking entirely too comfortable. "Same way you are, I guess. One moment I'm slicing and dicing in New York, the next, poof—I'm in a completely different world with no sign of my taco truck. I've been making the best of it, though."

Steve sat down across from him, trying to piece things together. "Wade, do you remember anything from before you got here? Anything that might help us figure out how we ended up in this world?"

Deadpool leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head as he thought for a moment. "Same story as you guys, mostly. Big flash of light, some weird multiverse thingy, and here I am. But... I did see someone."

Steve's expression darkened. "Who?"

"How the hell should I know?"

———

Steve has spent the last eight months fully immersing himself in his new role at the mental hospital, working closely with patients and staff alike. He's developed a routine, becoming a steady, reassuring presence for both the patients and his colleagues. Despite the strange new world he's in, Steve's natural leadership qualities and compassion have made him a valued member of the hospital staff. He's also spent time training, working on keeping his body in peak condition, and adapting his combat skills to better match the quirks of this new world. He frequently checks in with the others, ensuring they're adjusting as well as possible.

Rhodey found a job working as a consultant for a security firm. His knowledge of military tactics and technology has proven invaluable, though he's kept a low profile regarding his War Machine armor. He's been tinkering with ideas on how to upgrade the suit using the technology of this world, but without access to his usual resources, progress has been slow. In his spare time, he's been a steadying influence on the group, offering practical advice and military discipline when needed.

Ben has spent his time trying to adjust to the quieter, more peaceful life this world offers, which is a big change from the constant battles he's used to. He's taken to helping out in construction, using his immense strength to rebuild and repair. The work has helped him stay busy and keep his mind off the fact that he's far from home. Ben's also become a bit of a local hero, admired by those who've seen him in action, even if his gruff exterior and massive size still intimidate some people.

Wade has been his usual chaotic self, stirring up trouble wherever he goes. He's been acting as a vigilante, taking down petty criminals and occasionally bigger threats, though his methods are far from conventional or legal. He's had multiple run-ins with the police, often resulting in him getting arrested only to talk his way out of it or be bailed out by his teammates.

Peter has been exploring the city, getting to know its layout and understanding the local hero culture. He's spent time helping out where he can, taking down street-level threats and saving civilians. However, he's been restless, anxious to put on the Spider-Man suit full-time but holding back until they're officially recognized as heroes. He'd also been meeting up with Tsuyu a few times and the two got to know each other a lot better.

Simon has been focusing on his powers, working on mastering his ionic energy abilities and trying to find new ways to use them in this strange world. He's been training with Peter and sometimes with Steve, keeping himself sharp and ready. Simon has also been exploring the local culture, visiting music stores and immersing himself in the world of entertainment here, as he has a deep connection to the performing arts. He's been building connections and friendships, especially with Jiro, who shares his love of music.

Vision has been quietly integrating himself into the world, gathering information and studying its unique quirks. He's been helping out with logistics, using his advanced intelligence to plan for the group's future needs and ensuring they have what they need to survive and eventually thrive in this new environment. Vision has also been subtly hacking into systems to gather intel on local and global threats, particularly focused on locating Tony Stark.

Logan has spent the last eight months trying to get a feel for the land, taking trips out into the wilderness to clear his head and test his limits in this new world. He's been training solo, sharpening his senses, and keeping his fighting skills at their peak. Logan has also made occasional visits to the city, keeping an eye on potential threats and getting a sense of the underworld here. He's stayed mostly to himself, though he keeps an eye on the rest of the group, particularly the younger ones like Peter and Simon, offering gruff advice and the occasional training session when asked.

Steve and Aizawa sat in the Class 1-A room at U.A. High, they discussed the best approach to welcoming the incoming students on their first day.

"We need to gauge their abilities," Aizawa started, his tone as flat and direct as ever. "I usually start with a Quirk Apprehension Test. It helps us understand their Quirks since they didn't have a chance to fully explore them in middle school."

Steve leaned back in his chair, considering the suggestion. "That's a solid idea, Aizawa, but I was thinking we might want to take it a step further. How about we start with a test that focuses on their mindset? Something that asks them to think about what makes a hero and why they want to be one."

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "Go on."

Steve continued, "A written test to get inside their heads a bit. Understand their motivations, their values. Being a hero isn't just about power—it's about the reason behind that power, how they choose to use it. After that, we can have them do some combat practice, but with a twist. They'll face me, and I'll only use my shield. It'll give us a chance to see how they think on their feet, how they adapt to fighting someone without relying solely on their Quirks."

Aizawa thought for a moment, his expression unreadable. "A combat test against you, with just your shield... You're suggesting a practical approach to see how they handle a real challenge."

"Exactly," Steve nodded. "It's important to understand how they react under pressure. And more than that, it's a way to instill some respect for what it means to be a hero. If they can face me—without their Quirks being the deciding factor—it'll show us who they are at their core."

Aizawa smirked slightly, the closest thing to a smile Steve had seen from him. "I like it. It's unconventional and not something I had in mind, but it might be exactly what they need to understand that being a hero isn't just about who's the strongest or fastest. It's about what drives you, how you think, and how you protect those who can't protect themselves. But we're still gonna do a Quirk Apprehension Test."

Steve grinned. "So, we're on the same page?"

Aizawa gave a small nod. "Yeah, we are."

After finalizing their plan for the first day, Steve and Aizawa made their way to a room designated for faculty, where the other teachers were gathering to observe the Practical Exam. This was the final phase of the U.A. entrance exams, and it would determine which applicants had what it took to join Class 1-A and the other first-year classes.

As they entered the room, Steve was met with the sight of multiple screens, each displaying different parts of the testing grounds where the applicants were battling mock villains. The room buzzed with quiet conversations as teachers analyzed the performances of various students.

Present in the room were some familiar faces to Aizawa: the ever-enthusiastic Present Mic, the elegant Midnight, and the imposing Cementoss. They each greeted Aizawa with a nod or a brief word as he and Steve took their places.

"Yo, Aizawa! Cap!" Present Mic greeted, his usual boisterous demeanor toned down but still evident in his voice. "Here to see who's gonna make the cut?"

Steve nodded politely, taking a seat beside Aizawa. "I'm interested to see what these kids can do. I've heard a lot about U.A.'s entrance exams."

"Trust me, it's always a show," Midnight chimed in with a smile. "You'll get a sense of their character pretty quickly."

———

Outside U.A. High School, the atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Students who had applied to the prestigious academy gathered, ready to face the entrance exam that could define their futures. Among them were Peter Parker and Simon Williams, both feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Peter adjusted his backpack, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. "You ready for this, Simon?" he asked, glancing at his friend.

Simon, who was doing his best to appear calm, nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be. We've been through worse, right?"

As they stood near the entrance, they weren't alone. They were accompanied by a small group of familiar faces—those who had been their companions for the past several months since they'd arrived in this world.

Logan, with his arms crossed and a gruff expression, stood beside them. "You two better make us proud," he muttered, though his tone was more encouraging than critical. "You've both got what it takes."

Rhodey, in civilian attire, offered a reassuring smile. "Just remember what you've learned. You've got the skills, just keep your heads in the game."

The Thing, towering over the group, patted both Peter and Simon on the shoulders with his massive hands. "Ya both got this. Show 'em what yer made of. And don't worry 'bout us—we'll be watchin' from the sidelines."

Deadpool, predictably, added his own unique encouragement. "And if you mess up, remember, there's always a future in... um... interpretive dance! But seriously, you've both got this. Just kick some butt, and don't get too attached to any walls—you know, just in case they get blown up."

Vision, who had been the quietest, nodded in agreement. "You are both more than capable. Remember, this is just another step in your journey."

Peter, trying to push back the worry gnawing at him, looked at the school gates and then back at the group. "Thanks, guys. It means a lot that you're here."

Simon, always the more composed of the two, gave a small smile. "We'll do our best. We've got a lot to prove."

Rhodey glanced at his watch and then at the school gates. "Alright, it's about time. You both better get in there and show them what you're made of."

With that final bit of encouragement, Peter and Simon took a deep breath and walked toward the entrance to U.A. High School. The others watched them go, each feeling a mix of pride and concern.

"Time to head inside ourselves," Logan grumbled. "Let's see what these kids are made of."

The group made their way toward the teachers' entrance

As Thing, Rhodey, Vision, Logan, and Deadpool made their way through the entrance of U.A. High School, it quickly became apparent that the layout was more complex than they had anticipated. The sprawling corridors were filled with twists and turns, and despite their best efforts, they soon found themselves unsure of which direction to take.

Thing glanced around, his rocky brow furrowed. "This place is a dang maze. Where're we supposed to meet the others?"

Rhodey pulled out his phone, trying to access the map they'd been given, but the signal inside the school was spotty at best. "I thought Steve said the teacher's lounge was straight ahead, but I've already seen that same trophy case twice."

Logan sniffed the air, his senses on alert, but even he couldn't get a clear fix on where they were supposed to go. "These hallways all smell the same. We've gotta be close, but this place is a real labyrinth."

Vision, ever the calm presence, floated a few inches off the ground, trying to get a better view from above. "Perhaps if we take a right at the next intersection, we'll find a main corridor. The school's layout is designed to be efficient, but it's also meant to disorient intruders, so we might have to think outside the box."

Deadpool, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying the situation. "This is just like that one time I was stuck in IKEA. Except instead of cheap furniture and meatballs, we're surrounded by potential heroes and... well, no meatballs. But I'm betting they've got a cafeteria somewhere. Should we head there? Maybe get a snack while we figure this out?"

Rhodey rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood for Deadpool's antics. "Focus, Wade. We need to find Steve and the others before the exam starts."

As they continued down another identical-looking hallway, Deadpool suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Wait a minute... what if the real U.A. High was the friends we made along the way?" He then turned to a passing student. "Hey, you! Where's the teacher's lounge?"

The student, who was clearly in a hurry and a little intimidated by the sight of a group that included a rock man and a masked mercenary, pointed down the hall and stammered, "J-just down that way, take the second left, and it's the big door on the right."

Vision gave the student a polite nod of thanks as they continued on. "It appears we were closer than we thought."

As they finally found the correct corridor and approached the door to the teacher's lounge, Logan gave a small grunt. "Bout time. I was startin' to think we'd be stuck in here all day."

Thing chuckled, giving the door a push. "All part of the experience, right? Let's get in there before we miss anything important."

As they entered the lounge, the group was met with the sight of several U.A. teachers, including Steve and Aizawa, who looked up as they arrived. Steve gave them a nod, clearly relieved to see them. "You guys made it. Everything alright?"

Rhodey shrugged, still a bit frustrated. "Got a little turned around, but we're here."

Deadpool gave a theatrical bow. "And here I thought we'd need a search party. But no worries, we're just fashionably late."

Deadpool looked at Midnight. "Nice boobs." He told her, earning a smirk from Midnight.

As Thing, Rhodey, Vision, Logan, and Deadpool finally made their way to the teachers' lounge, they pushed open the large door and stepped inside. The room was spacious, with comfortable seating arrangements

Steve looked up as the group entered, offering them a welcoming nod. "There you guys are. Thought you might've gotten lost."

Rhodey sighed, half-joking, "We almost did. This place is a maze."

Logan gave a small grunt, crossing his arms as he glanced around the room. "Yeah, but we found our way. You must be Eraser Head," he said, addressing Aizawa with a respectful nod.

Aizawa, leaning back in his chair with his usual tired expression, nodded in return. "And you're Logan. Heard a lot about you."

"Same here," Logan replied. "Heard you're pretty tough on the kids. I can respect that."

Vision hovered a few inches off the ground as he floated toward Steve. "I must say, the design of this school is quite intricate. It's no wonder we had a bit of trouble navigating it."

Steve chuckled. "Welcome to U.A., where even the halls are part of the training."

Deadpool, always one to lighten the mood, swaggered into the room and threw himself onto one of the couches with dramatic flair. "Ah, the lounge! The oasis of every school. I bet you have coffee that's actually drinkable, don't you?" He eyed the coffee machine in the corner.

One of the teachers, Present Mic, who was lounging on another couch, perked up at Deadpool's comment. "You know it! Our coffee's the stuff of legends!"

Deadpool gave a thumbs-up. "Good to know. I might need to stock up before the day's out."

Thing found a chair that could support his weight and settled in, glancing around at the other teachers. "So, this where all the action happens, huh?"

Midnight, who was sitting nearby, smirked. "Depends on your definition of 'action.' But yeah, this is where we unwind and plan our next steps."

Rhodey, who had taken a seat next to Steve, leaned forward, curious. "So, what's the plan for today? The entrance exam's about to start, right?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, we'll be watching the Practical Exam shortly. Aizawa and I were just talking about what we've got planned for the students once they're in."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Anything we should know?"

Aizawa looked at him blankly. "Let's just say we've got a few tests in mind that'll separate the real heroes from the wannabes."

Deadpool clapped his hands together, clearly excited. "Oh, I love a good test! Especially the kind where explosions are involved. Please tell me there will be explosions."

Aizawa looked at the merc with a mouth. "I want the students to live through the first day. I'll wait about a week or two."

———

In the entrance exam hall, Simon and Peter sat together, surrounded by other aspiring heroes. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and nerves as they waited for the exam to begin. Present Mic, with his usual enthusiasm, started explaining the procedures for the practical exam.

"For all you examinee listeners tuning in, welcome to my show today! Everybody say 'hey!'" Present Mic's voice boomed through the speakers, full of energy.

There was a pause as the room remained awkwardly silent. Only Simon and Peter clapped, their applause echoing through the hall. Present Mic, catching their response, gave a nod of approval.

"What a refined response. Then I'll quickly present to you the rundown on the practical exam!" Present Mic continued, unfazed by the general lack of enthusiasm. "As it says in the application requirements, you listeners will be conducting ten-minute mock urban battles after this! You can bring whatever you want with you. After the presentation, you'll head to the specified battle center, okay?"

Peter leaned over to Simon, whispering, "I guess it's up to us to keep the energy up in here."

Simon grinned, nodding in agreement. "Always. This is going to be fun."

Present Mic went on, "Three different types of faux villains are stationed in each battle center. You earn points for each of them based on their level of difficulty. Your goal, dear listeners, is to use your Quirks to earn points by immobilizing the faux villains. Of course, attacking other examinees and any other heroic actions are prohibited."

Suddenly, a student in glasses and a neatly pressed uniform stood up, raising his hand with a sharp gesture. "May I ask a question?" The student's voice was firm, authoritative.

Present Mic pointed at him. "Okay!"

The student, Iida, held up his printout. "On the printout, there are four types of villains! If that is a misprint, then U.A., the most prominent school in Japan, should be ashamed of that foolish mistake! We examinees are here in this place because we wish to be molded into exemplary heroes!"

As Iida spoke, his tone grew increasingly serious. Then, without warning, he turned and pointed at a green-haired boy who was sitting quietly, lost in his own thoughts.

"In addition, you over there with the curly hair!" Iida called out, his voice sharp.

The boy, Midoriya, blinked in surprise, looking up. "Huh?"

"You've been muttering this whole time. It's distracting! If you're here on a pleasure trip, then you should leave immediately!" Iida's stern words hung in the air as the other students chuckled at the exchange.

Midoriya's face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled, looking down at his desk.

The laughter died down, but Iida wasn't finished. His gaze swept the room and landed on Peter and Simon, who had been sitting quietly, still recovering from their earlier applause.

"And you two!" Iida pointed at them, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "While your enthusiasm is commendable, this is not the time to make light of the situation! We are here to prove our worth as future heroes!"

Peter exchanged a glance with Simon, raising an eyebrow. They hadn't expected to be called out, especially not for clapping. But Peter, never one to back down, gave a casual shrug.

"Just showing some support," Peter said calmly, his tone respectful yet confident. "After all, heroes should be able to lift each other up, right?"

Simon nodded in agreement. "We're all here to become the best we can be. No harm in a little positivity."

Iida blinked, seemingly taken aback by their response. He hadn't expected such a calm and reasonable reply. For a moment, the stern look on his face softened slightly.

"Perhaps," Iida said, lowering his hand.

"This guy would give Fury a run for his money." Simon whispered to Peter.

"Okay, okay, Examinee Number 7111. Thanks for the great message," Present Mic said with a grin. "The fourth type of villain is worth zero points. That guy's an obstacle, so to speak. There's one in every battle center. It's an obstacle that will go crazy in narrow spaces. It's not impossible to defeat, but there's no reason to defeat it, either. I recommend that you listeners try to avoid it."

Iida bowed slightly in gratitude. "Thank you very much! Please excuse the interruption!"

Around the hall, a few boys began murmuring among themselves.

"I see... It's like the obstacles you avoid in video games, huh?" one of them said.

"Yeah, the whole thing is like a video game," another added, nodding in agreement.

Present Mic, noticing the murmurs, raised his voice once more to capture everyone's attention. "That's all from me! Finally, I'll give you listeners a present -- our school motto! The hero Napoleon Bonaparte once said this... 'A true hero is someone who overcomes life's misfortunes.' Go beyond... Plus Ultra!"

Midoriya, lost in thought, hummed quietly to himself, absorbing the gravity of the situation.

"And now," Present Mic's voice took on a slightly more ominous tone, "everyone, good luck suffering."

As Present Mic finished his explanation, Simon and Peter exchanged excited looks. Present Mic's energetic delivery had definitely amped up their anticipation.

Peter leaned over to Simon, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "This is going to be just like one of those big boss battles, isn't it?"

Simon chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, except with a lot more on the line. But hey, nothing we can't handle, right?"

Peter grinned, his nerves giving way to excitement. "Exactly. We've been through worse. This is just another level to clear."

Simon glanced at Present Mic, who was winding down his speech. "Plus Ultra, huh? I like it. Gives me that extra boost."

———

Peter arrived at his assigned training ground. Peter quickly scanned the area and spotted a familiar face. Tsuyu Asui was among the participants, and the sight of her calmed his nerves a bit. Making his way over, he offered her a friendly smile.

"Hey, Tsuyu, fancy meeting you here," Peter greeted, trying to play it cool.

Tsuyu turned to him, her usual calm expression softening slightly. "I told you, call me Tsu."

"My bad." Peter said, and nodded.

———

Meanwhile, Simon was at his own training ground, scanning the area. His eyes quickly landed on Jiro, and a sense of relief washed over him. Seeing a familiar face gave him a bit more confidence in the high-pressure situation. He began making his way toward her, intending to say hi and maybe offer some encouragement.

But before he could get close, a blur of blue and white zipped in front of him, cutting him off. Simon blinked, surprised, as Tenya Iida stood in his path, his posture rigid and formal.

"She looks like she's trying to focus on the trials ahead," Iida said, his tone stern. "What are you going to do? Distract her and ruin her chances to succeed?"

Simon was taken aback, his good intentions suddenly turned into something to be criticized. He opened his mouth to respond, but Iida was already continuing, his voice growing louder as he lectured.

"This is a serious exam, and we should all be focused on our own performance. I suggest you do the same and not distract others," Iida declared, his voice carrying an air of authority.

Around them, Simon could hear whispers from the other examinees. The snippets of conversation he caught weren't encouraging.

"Who's that guy? He doesn't look like much..."

"I bet he's just here to try his luck. No way he'll pass."

"Yeah, already getting in trouble before the exam even starts..."

Simon's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. He hadn't meant to cause any trouble, and now he felt like an idiot. The fact that Iida had publicly called him out didn't help. The instant dislike Simon felt for Iida settled in, a sharp edge of resentment forming.

Clenching his fists, Simon turned away from Jiro and Iida, forcing himself to focus on the task ahead. He would prove them all wrong, starting with Iida. They would see that he wasn't someone to count out so easily.