What is Truth?

MHA Reacts to the Bible

"Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a king then? Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice. Pilate saith unto him, What is truth?…"

John 18:37-38a KJV

The early morning at UA Academy began like any other: filled with the palpable tension of a school renowned for pushing its students to their limits. The freshmen of Class 1-A and 1-B were no exception, each student dealing with the daily demands in their own way.

The homeroom for Class 1-A buzzed with the ambient sounds of flipping pages, hushed murmurs, and scratching pens. On the far side of the room close to the windows, Izuku Midoriya sat hunched over his desk, his green eyes fixed intently on his anthropology notes. Despite having gone over the material the night before, his fingers still traced each line nervously, as if he could somehow absorb the meaning better with an extra touch. He was tired—no, beyond tired. The workload at UA Academy was relentless, but he couldn't allow himself to slack off. After all, UA practically guaranteed a successful career after graduation. Wasn't that why he—and everyone else—was here?

He paused, staring at the section he'd highlighted. "Cultural diffusion," it read, a topic meant to symbolize how cultures adapted, connected, and changed together. But Midoriya's thoughts weren't just on anthropology. Lately, he'd been feeling something deeper. A question he didn't know how to ask.

What was his real purpose?

Would getting into a good career someday fulfill him? Was there more to life than getting the perfect grades, the high-paying job, and just… succeeding?

He remembered his mother, how she'd smiled at him this morning. There was so much love in her eyes, but also a sadness that had lingered, especially over the past month. He knew why, of course. Things had been hard for her for a long time now, ever since… Midoriya swallowed, feeling a tightness in his chest. He couldn't think about that right now. He needed to stay focused, needed to keep going. His mom was depending on him to succeed—to make something of himself, to live the life his father had once wanted for himself but somehow lost along the way.

"Hey, Deku," Uraraka's gentle voice broke his reverie. She leaned over, her pencil tapping lightly on her own notes, her face marked by confusion. "Can you explain that part about cultural diffusion again?"

Midoriya blinked and looked up, giving her a gentle smile. "Sure, Uraraka." He moved his notes closer to her. As he started explaining, he couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him. He liked helping people—maybe that was his answer, but was it enough? He wished he knew.

In Class 1-B's homeroom, the atmosphere was similarly tense. Students were scattered around the classroom, books and notes spread out as they studied

Ibara Shiozaki sat quietly in her seat, her fingers gently tracing the edge of her textbook. The day's science lecture had left her feeling more conflicted than usual. It was about radiometric dating, detailing how the Earth's age had been calculated to be billions of years old. She'd heard it all before, of course. It was part of UA's rigorous science curriculum. But every time she heard those numbers—the billions of years, the precise measurements—she felt something stir inside her. A question she couldn't silence.

Could her faith—her belief in a divine creation—truly coexist with these scientific findings? Was her interpretation flawed? Was she being naive?

She didn't share these thoughts with anyone. Not even her best friends. To them, she was always the pillar of faith, unwavering, unshakable. But deep down, she struggled.

"Hey, Shiozaki," Setsuna Tokage called from the next table, her grin mischievous. "You're zoning out. What's up?"

Shiozaki snapped back to attention, giving Tokage a small smile. "It's nothing to worry about," she said softly.

But even as she spoke, the doubt lingered.

Nearby, Itsuka Kendo watched as Neito Monoma scribbled furiously, his gaze flickering toward Class 1-A's room through the window.

Kendo sighed, her voice gentle but firm. "Monoma, you need to focus on your own work. Class 1-A isn't going anywhere."

Monoma flashed a mischievous grin. "Maybe not, but I have to make sure they're not getting ahead of us. We can't let them think they're better."

Overhearing the conversation, Shiozaki looked up from her textbook, her expression calm. "Perfection is unattainable, Monoma. Instead of comparing ourselves to others, shouldn't we focus on our own growth and understanding?"

Monoma gave an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe. But where's the fun in that?" He smirked, though Kendo gave him a pointed look.

The school bell echoed through the halls, signaling the end of another grueling period. Students spilled into the corridors, their chatter mixing with the clatter of books and footsteps. Midoriya kept his head down as he walked, his mind filled with the notes he had taken during history class. He hugged his books close to his chest, trying to navigate through the throng of students as unobtrusively as possible.

He turned a corner, and suddenly, he bumped into a solid figure. The impact sent his books flying, scattering across the hallway floor. Midoriya immediately looked up, his heart sinking as he found himself face-to-face with none other than Katsuki Bakugo.

Bakugo's crimson eyes narrowed in annoyance, and for a moment, a flicker of something darker flashed across his face. Instinctively, Midoriya tensed, his eyes widening with a mix of fear and surprise. Memories from middle school flooded his mind—the taunts, the glares, the constant tension. He dropped to his knees quickly, scrambling to pick up his books. "S-sorry, Kacchan!" he stammered, keeping his gaze downcast.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in irritation, glancing down at the mess of books and papers. He let out a low growl. "Damn nerd, watch where you're going," he muttered, though his voice lacked the venom it once carried. He looked around briefly, noticing a couple of passing students glancing their way, curious but uninterested in lingering. Bakugo frowned, his jaw tightening as he glanced back down at Midoriya. The old Bakugo might have said something harsher or even knocked the books further, but this wasn't middle school anymore.

"You're right. I was just distracted…"

Bakugo paused, noticing the distance in the green-haired boy's tone.

"How's your old lady holding up?" Bakugo muttered, almost under his breath, his voice so low that Midoriya barely caught it. He didn't make eye contact, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Midoriya's head, almost as if the question had slipped out without his permission.

Midoriya froze, his hands hovering over his scattered books. For a second, he didn't know what to say. The question hit him in a place that hurt more than he wanted to admit, and the reminder of his mother's struggles stung. "She… she's managing," he said quietly, his voice barely audible. He forced a small, awkward smile, though he kept his eyes down. "Thanks for… asking."

Bakugo's face twisted, and he turned away abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Just... get out of the way, Deku," he muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a barely perceptible hint of unease crossing his features. He didn't want trouble—didn't want Aizawa breathing down his neck for "problematic behavior." UA had rules, and while Bakugo wasn't one to play nice, he also wasn't stupid enough to risk getting expelled over something so trivial.

Midoriya swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "R-right. Sorry." He hastily gathered the rest of his books, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart in his ears. As he rose to his feet, he caught a glimpse of Bakugo walking away, his broad back disappearing into the throng of students further down the hall.

A part of Midoriya still feared Bakugo—that deep, ingrained fear that came from years of being on the receiving end of Bakugo's rage. But there was something different now, something he couldn't quite place. Bakugo didn't seem interested in pushing him around, at least not in the same way as before. He wasn't apologetic, but he wasn't as openly hostile either. There was a hesitation that Midoriya couldn't help but notice—a small change, but a change nonetheless.

Midoriya sighed, adjusting his books in his arms, his eyes lingering for a moment in the direction Bakugo had gone. With a deep breath, he turned and continued down the hall, his pace quickening as he made his way to his next class.

In a sunlit science classroom, Bakugo and Eijiro Kirishima sat at a lab table, surrounded by various labeled rock samples. Kirishima furrowed his brow as he held a small slate-gray rock up to the light, squinting at the faint patterns on its surface. He glanced at his notes, his pencil tapping against the paper in hesitation.

"Is this one granite or diorite?" Kirishima asked aloud, his voice uncertain.

Bakugo, who was meticulously labeling his own samples, snapped his head up and gave Kirishima an irritated glare. "Are you serious, Shitty Hair? It's diorite! Granite has larger crystals, you moron." He snatched the rock from Kirishima's hand, pointing out the details. "See? You can't just guess on this stuff. Get it together."

Kirishima flushed, his expression apologetic. "Right, right. Sorry, Bakugo. I'm just… I guess I'm a bit tired." He gave a sheepish grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Thanks for setting me straight."

Bakugo rolled his eyes, though his tone lost some of its edge. "Tired or not, you can't screw this up. I'm not getting a bad grade on this project because you got confused over something so basic. We're supposed to be the best, remember?" His voice held a hint of something else—a drive that was as much about pushing himself as it was about pushing others.

Kirishima nodded, his grin growing more genuine. "Yeah, sure thing, bro. I'll do better." He returned to his work, examining a new rock sample with more care this time, though he couldn't help but steal a glance at Bakugo out of the corner of his eye.

After a few quiet moments, Kirishima spoke again, his tone more tentative. "Hey, uh, Bakugo? Unrelated, but… You noticed Midoriya lately? He's seemed... kinda down these last few weeks." Kirishima paused, watching Bakugo for a reaction. "Like, more than usual. I dunno, it's just… not like him. You think something's up?"

Bakugo's hand paused over the label he was writing, his eyes narrowing slightly before he set the pen down with deliberate care. His jaw tightened for a moment, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face before he looked back at Kirishima.

"The nerd's got some personal stuff going on," Bakugo said, his voice curt but not as harsh as usual. "Nothing you need to worry about. He'll deal with it." He shrugged, trying to appear dismissive, but Kirishima caught the subtle tension in his shoulders. "Just... let him be for now. He'll figure it out."

Kirishima blinked, a little surprised by the response. He nodded slowly, a hint of concern still lingering in his eyes. "Yeah, okay. I just… y'know, he's a good guy. Hate to see anyone struggling like that."

Bakugo's gaze hardened, though not in anger. He picked up his pen again, his tone gruff. "The nerd may not look impressive…but he's tougher than he looks, Kirishima." There was a pause, as if Bakugo was debating whether to say more, before he simply added, "Just focus on your damn rocks."

Kirishima smiled at that, his respect for Bakugo growing. He could see through the rough edges—Bakugo's way of showing he cared was different, but it was there all the same.

Meanwhile, Shiozaki sat beside Setsuna Tokage in philosophy class, their teacher leading a discussion on the concept of creation and existence. Shiozaki listened intently, her green hair cascading over her shoulders, her hands folded neatly on her desk.

The teacher gestured toward the board where they had written several scientific theories of the universe's origins. "The Big Bang theory suggests that the universe began from an incredibly dense point, expanding outward over billions of years."

Shiozaki's serene expression faltered slightly, her gaze drifting down to her notebook. She had always prided herself on her faith, viewing the world as a divine creation with purpose. But the scientific explanations she heard day after day sometimes felt like they were challenging that belief, creating an uncomfortable dissonance.

Tokage, noticing Shiozaki's distraction, nudged her gently. "Hey, you okay? You seem... out of it."

Shiozaki blinked, offering a small smile. "I'm fine, Tokage. Just… thinking. Sometimes it's difficult to reconcile everything we learn here with what I believe in my heart."

Tokage nodded, her tone understanding, though a bit teasing. "Well, if anyone can find a way to bring it all together, it's probably you, Shiozaki. You're like, the most patient person I know. Don't stress too much, okay?"

Shiozaki smiled at her friend's words, though her mind remained filled with doubts. It was a struggle she kept to herself, but one that weighed heavily—a question of whether her faith and the knowledge she was gaining could truly coexist.

During lunch, Midoriya sat at a crowded cafeteria table with his friends: Uraraka, Tenya Iida, Tsuyu Asui, and Shoto Todoroki. The bustling sounds of chatter, clinking trays, and bursts of laughter surrounded them, creating a bubble of lively energy that contrasted with the weary looks on most students' faces. Iida was in the middle of a conversation, his usual energetic hand gestures accompanying his words.

"And I still believe that the seminar on innovative automotive technologies was insightful," Iida declared, adjusting his glasses. "It's not every day that we get the chance to hear from professionals in the field. I'm definitely incorporating some of those concepts into my family's business."

"Ribbit. I thought it was interesting," Asui agreed, nodding thoughtfully. She had a quirk of sometimes beginning and ending her sentence with "ribbit". "Though I prefer our biology classes. I can't wait to study sea life in more detail." She tilted her head, her eyes blinking slowly. "What about you, Uraraka? What's your favorite part?"

Uraraka smiled, a dreamy expression crossing her face. "Astronomy. I've always been fascinated by space. I guess it makes sense, considering how my parents used to tell me I'd have to reach for the stars if I wanted to make a difference." She laughed, her cheeks pinking slightly.

Todoroki glanced around the table, his expression cool but his eyes attentive. "I haven't really decided yet," he said, his tone calm. "All I know is, I want to stay far away from politics."

Uraraka nodded sympathetically, and Iida gave an understanding hum. "That's alright, Todoroki. It's a big decision—there's still time to figure it out."

"Most of the classes in our first year are usually basics anyway, ribbit." Asui added.

While the conversation flowed, Midoriya sat there, staring at his tray, barely registering the food in front of him. He was nodding occasionally but not truly engaging. His friends' voices felt distant, his thoughts spiraling inward as his worries churned. He absentmindedly poked at his lunch, his mind filled with doubts he couldn't quite shake.

Todoroki, ever observant, noticed Midoriya's uncharacteristic silence. He narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning forward. "Midoriya, are you okay? You've been really quiet today."

The question made everyone else pause, turning their attention toward Midoriya. Uraraka, who had also sensed something was off, gave a small nod, her expression filled with concern.

Midoriya blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He offered a sheepish smile, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Oh, sorry, everyone. I'm fine. Really." He tried to sound reassuring, but his voice lacked its usual energy. "I've just been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately with all the work. You know, trying to keep up with everything here at UA."

Iida leaned forward, his eyes serious. "That's understandable. The workload is immense, and the expectations placed on us are incredibly high. But remember, we're here to support each other—and to reach our goals. It's difficult, but it will be worth it in the end."

Uraraka smiled gently. "Yeah, we're all feeling it. But it'll pay off once we get where we want to be. Just think about it, Deku—you'll be designing things that help people, making a real difference in their lives, just like you've always wanted."

Asui nodded, her tone calm. "Ribbit. We all have different goals, but we're here for a reason. Even though it's tough, it's part of the journey."

Midoriya nodded, though the unease in his chest remained. "Yeah, I know. You're all right. It's just..." He hesitated, trying to put his thoughts into words. "I've wanted to be a biomechanical engineer for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was a kid, I've dreamed of designing prosthetics and devices that could really help people, make their lives better. It's something I'm passionate about.

"But lately, I can't help wondering if there's more to it than just getting that job. Even if it's something meaningful, something that helps others… what if there's something bigger we're supposed to be a part of, something beyond just our careers?"

Todoroki frowned slightly, considering the question. "Something bigger? Like what?"

Midoriya glanced down at his tray, his eyes clouded with thought. He could still hear his mother's voice from the call weeks ago, the rawness in her tone. His father had been successful—he'd built a career, had money, everything that was supposed to matter. And yet, it hadn't been enough.

"I don't know," Midoriya said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... something I've been thinking about lately."

Uraraka reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Whatever it is, I know you'll figure it out, Deku. You always do."

Iida nodded firmly. "Indeed. We all have times when we question ourselves, but we're here for a reason, and I believe you'll find your path, Midoriya."

Midoriya looked up, meeting the kind and supportive eyes of his friends. He managed a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, everyone. That... means a lot." He couldn't shake the feeling of doubt, but at least he knew he wasn't alone.

Meanwhile, at another table in the crowded cafeteria, Bakugo Katsuki sat surrounded by his group of "friends" (he still wasn't sure if he could call them that yet, but he liked them okay)—Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido, Hanta Sero, and Kyoka Jiro. The table was lively, filled with the usual mix of banter, jokes, and talk of the upcoming finals. Sero was in the middle of telling a joke about one of their science experiments gone wrong, which had Kaminari doubled over in laughter while Ashido playfully rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, though, that explosion almost took my eyebrows off!" Sero finished, grinning as the others chuckled.

Kirishima laughed along, but his gaze shifted, catching sight of Midoriya and his friends at a nearby table. The group looked deep in conversation, but there was something about Midoriya's posture—his shoulders slightly hunched, his expression distant—that caught Kirishima's attention. It reminded him of the conversation he had with Bakugo during their science class earlier. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe they should do something, anything, to help cheer up Midoriya.

Without much thought, Kirishima turned back to his friends, his eyes lighting up as an idea struck him. He cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, the laughter at the table quieting as they all turned to him.

"Hey, I was thinking," Kirishima began, his voice taking on an enthusiastic edge, "after finals are done, we should all go out to the mall or something. You know, like a way to unwind and celebrate that we survived another round of tests." He paused, glancing meaningfully towards Midoriya's table. "And we could even invite others from the class too, make it a big thing."

Ashido perked up immediately, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, totally! A shopping spree sounds awesome! Plus, we could all use some fun after these exams."

Kaminari nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, for real! I could definitely use a break. I've got my eye on some new headphones too."

Jiro smiled a bit, though her tone stayed casual. "I guess it could be fun... as long as Kaminari doesn't blow all his money on gear and then complain about being broke afterward."

Sero snickered at that. "Yeah, and maybe we can keep Bakugo from getting us kicked out of a store while we're there."

Bakugo, who had been eating quietly and mostly ignoring the conversation, shot Sero a sharp glare. "Tch. Like I care about some dumb mall trip," he muttered, his tone dismissive. But as he glanced at Kirishima, he noticed the purposeful way his friend's eyes had drifted back toward Midoriya. He knew what Kirishima was getting at.

Kirishima, ever earnest, leaned in slightly, keeping his tone casual but genuine. "It'd be good for everyone, don't you think? Especially after all the stress lately. Plus, we don't get too many chances to just hang out as a group, you know?" He gave Bakugo a pointed look, his meaning clear. It wasn't just about them. It was about making sure everyone in their class—especially Midoriya—had a chance to relax and feel included.

Ashido, catching on, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we could invite Deku and his friends too! The more, the merrier, right?" She smiled, her bright and cheerful demeanor making it clear she was all for anything that could lift someone's spirits.

Jiro tilted her head slightly, glancing between Kirishima and Bakugo. "It does sound like a good idea. It'd be a way to get everyone together, outside of just studying."

Bakugo rolled his eyes, his face scrunching in annoyance, though the corners of his mouth turned down more in a scowl than genuine anger. "Do what you want," he grunted, "but don't expect me to hold anyone's hand." His tone was gruff, but he made no argument against the idea. Deep down, he understood what Kirishima was doing, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. Maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible thing to hang out, if it meant getting everyone off his back.

Kirishima grinned, giving Bakugo a light slap on the back. "Knew you'd be on board, man," he said, his voice full of his usual optimism. "Alright, it's settled then! After finals, we're hitting the mall. Let's make it a class thing!"

The table erupted into excited chatter, Kaminari already talking about all the shops they should visit, and Sero adding in suggestions for places to eat. As Kirishima joined in, he shot another glance at Midoriya across the cafeteria, a small sense of satisfaction settling in his chest.

Several rows down, several members of Class 1-B sat gathered around their usual table. It was a mix of personalities. Monoma, as usual, had an air of arrogance about him, his voice carrying just a little too loudly as he spoke animatedly, trying to get a rise out of whoever was listening. Across from him, Kendo watched with an exasperated yet familiar smile, while Shiozaki and Tokage sat with quieter expressions, their attention half-focused on the conversation. Next to them, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu leaned forward, shoveling food into his mouth with an enthusiasm that only he could muster.

"—I mean, that's just the way things work, right?" Monoma was saying, his hand making a dramatic arc. "Survival of the fittest. Only the best succeed. It's natural selection. And that's what we're all here for, isn't it? To be the best?"

Tokage raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at her lips. "You know, Monoma, you sure do like to use big words when you're just trying to say 'I want to win.'" She poked him in the arm, earning a scoff from him.

"I'm merely stating the truth," Monoma replied, puffing his chest out. "To succeed, you must overcome others—only the strong thrive in this world."

"But," Kendo interjected, her voice thoughtful, "that's not the only way to look at it, is it? I mean, we also need to help each other, right? I don't think life is just about winning."

Tetsutetsu nodded vigorously, swallowing his food before speaking. "Yeah! We're all in this together. I mean, competition's cool and all, but I'd rather lift someone up than leave them behind." He paused, scratching his head. "Well, at least most of the time."

"That's a nice sentiment," Monoma mused, his eyes narrowing with a hint of sarcasm. "But that's not how the world works, unfortunately. It's about power, influence, and who can assert themselves the best."

Tokage shrugged, resting her chin in her hand. "Maybe, but isn't it more interesting to have a mix of perspectives? I mean, even in our own class, we've all got different backgrounds and beliefs." She gestured to the table, looking around at her classmates. "Take religion, for example. Some of us don't really care about that stuff." She glanced at Monoma, who nodded in agreement. "And some of us…"

She let her eyes drift to Tetsutetsu, who smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm Shinto, I guess. But honestly, I don't practice much. It's more like… something my family does, so I do it too."

Kendo chimed in, "Same here. My family's Buddhist, but I'm not exactly devout or anything. It's more about tradition, you know?" She turned her gaze to Shiozaki, who had been listening quietly, her green eyes thoughtful.

"What about you, Shiozaki?" Tokage asked, her tone curious but without malice. "I know Christianity isn't super common here in Japan. How did you end up following that faith?"

Shiozaki blinked, the sudden attention catching her off guard. She offered a gentle smile, her hands resting in her lap. "My parents are Christian," she said simply. "I was raised in the faith, so it's always been a part of my life. It's given me guidance, a sense of purpose." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "I've never really had a reason to doubt it."

Kendo tilted her head, her expression curious. "Is that the only reason, though? I mean, beyond just your family?"

Shiozaki paused, her gaze dropping to the table. She thought of the lessons in class, the science that seemed to contradict what she believed. "Well…" she began, her voice softer, "I suppose I've been struggling with that lately. It's hard, sometimes, to reconcile everything we're taught here with my faith." She looked up, her eyes meeting Kendo's. "But I've always felt that there's more to this world than just what we can see or measure. Something bigger that connects us all."

Monoma leaned back, his expression surprisingly neutral. "I can respect that," he said after a moment. "I mean, I don't believe in any of it, but if it gives you strength, then who am I to judge?"

Shiozaki smiled at that. She wanted to keep the conversation going, to delve deeper into these questions—the doubts that had been plaguing her. But before she could speak again, Tetsutetsu clapped his hands together loudly, his grin wide.

"Alright, enough deep talk," he said, his voice booming. "Let's talk about something fun—like what we're all doing after finals! Who's down for some karaoke?"

Laughter erupted around the table, the conversation shifting to lighter topics, but Shiozaki remained quiet, her mind lingering on what had just been said. She glanced down at her tray, her reflection caught in her drink. Why was she a Christian? Was it just because of her parents, or was there something more? Whatever it was, she needed to find out.

In a space filled with soft, ambient light, two figures stood amidst a vast array of monitors and intricate machinery. The room was enormous, its walls lined with screens that blinked and shifted, reflecting a dizzying number of readouts and images. It had an air of both technology and timelessness—a place suspended between the cutting edge of the future.

The taller figure was wrapped in flowing robes adorned with celestial patterns that shimmered faintly under the soft light. He looked over at his smaller, mechanical companion standing by his side. The automaton was made of sleek metal panels with intricate engravings, his fingers moving with exacting precision as he adjusted a set of controls. A soft mechanical hum accompanied his movements.

"Have all preparations been completed?" The robed figure asked, his voice warm and kind, carrying a resonance that felt comforting amidst the cold glow of the screens.

The automaton paused for a moment before answering, his expressive LED-based eyes flickering from gold to blue as he processed the question. Though mechanical, his voice carried a thoughtful undertone. "Yes. Preparations for the incoming arrivals are complete. However, I must confirm once more—are these indeed the individuals you wish to bring here? They are... young." His tone shifted, almost cautious, reflecting a sense of curiosity as well as practicality. "Do you believe this will be enough to foster the change you envision, Catalyst?"

Catalyst's lips curved into a gentle smile, his eyes glowing faintly with an ancient understanding. "Yes, they are the ones," he replied, his gaze shifting to the array of screens that showed scenes from UA Academy. His attention was specifically on the tables where Midoriya, Bakugo, and Shiozaki were seated.

Catalyst turned back to Otto, the weight of his purpose evident in his gaze. "They sense that there is something more to life, something beyond the workload and ambitions they have shouldered. This is our chance, Otto, to show them a greater path—a chance to plant the seeds of hope and purpose where none have truly taken root before."

Otto, the robot, tilted his head, his sensors blinking as he pondered Catalyst's words. His eyes shifted color, glowing with an electric blue hue that conveyed his thoughtful nature. "Change," Otto mused, his segmented jawline moving deliberately. "Change that has evaded their nation for so long. You know better than anyone that, time and again, they have denied the truth, clinging instead to what they know—their own understanding. Are we really ready to show them what they may not wish to see?"

Catalyst nodded, his expression both knowing and compassionate. "You are correct, my friend. It is ultimately their choice. We cannot force them to accept the truth if they are not ready. But we owe it to them to try. We must provide them with the opportunity to understand, to choose for themselves what path they will follow. It is about offering them the chance to see—to decide if they want something different."

Otto's eyes flickered again, and the faint light at the core of his chest pulsed gently, a visualization of the emotions he couldn't quite articulate. He nodded, a subtle but deliberate motion. "Very well. The preparations are complete, and the selected individuals are ready for the transition."

Catalyst turned his gaze back to the screens, his eyes softening as he watched the students, full of both hope and uncertainty. His expression was serene, but there was an underlying sense of determination that could not be ignored. "Good," he said simply. "Let us begin."

Otto moved towards a nearby console, his modular fingers dancing over the keys, initiating the process with practiced ease. The room seemed to come alive, a low hum of energy resonating through the walls. The ambient light grew brighter, and the screens shifted into a pattern that accelerated, each individual scene blurring together until they were indecipherable.

With a final nod from Catalyst, the room filled with a brilliant, encompassing light. The journey had begun.

It began subtly—almost imperceptibly. The lights flickered, just for a split second. A few students looked up, their brows furrowed in confusion, but most simply shrugged it off. After all, even the most prestigious schools experienced power surges now and then. The cafeteria continued to buzz with laughter, chatter, and the scraping of chairs, with no hint of what was to come.

Then, the lights flickered again—this time more noticeably. Midoriya frowned, looking up, his brows knitting together. "Did anyone else feel that?" He pointed at his juice box, which had begun to tremble ever so slightly.

Uraraka nodded, her gaze shifting around the cafeteria. "Yeah, it's weird... like the ground's moving." Her eyes widened as she looked around, her voice lowering. "Wait... why does everyone else look... frozen?"

Midoriya's head snapped up, his eyes widening in shock. All around them, students were suspended in mid-motion—some with forks halfway to their mouths, others in the middle of a laugh. It was as if time had come to an abrupt halt, but only for everyone else.

"This... this isn't normal," Todoroki said, his voice calm but wary. His mismatched eyes scanned the room, landing on a girl who had been reaching for her drink. The liquid was suspended mid-pour, frozen in mid-air. He looked to Iida, whose usual composed demeanor had given way to clear concern.

"Everyone, stay calm," Iida said, standing up from his seat, his voice projecting across the cafeteria. "There's clearly something unusual happening. We should remain seated and try to assess—"

Before he could finish, a bright flash of light filled the cafeteria, cutting off his words. It was blinding, and everyone instinctively shielded their eyes.

Across the room, the moment the lights flickered, Bakugo's eyes narrowed, a scowl already forming on his face.

"The hell is this?" Bakugo growled, glaring at the ceiling as if daring it to answer. Kirishima, seated next to him, held onto his tray, his expression filled with confusion.

"Uh, Baku-bro, I think something's... really wrong," Kirishima said, his eyes darting around the cafeteria. He pointed, and Bakugo followed his gaze, his scowl deepening. "Look at everyone else."

Bakugo's red eyes took in the sight of students frozen mid-action. His fingers curled into fists, the tension rolling off him in waves. He stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

Ashido's normally bubbly expression turned into a worried frown. "Guys, what's happening? Are we the only ones who can move?"

"It's like... everything else has stopped," Jiro said, her voice quiet.

Kaminari laughed nervously, his eyes darting between Bakugo and the rest of the group. "Maybe it's some kind of test? You know, like a psychological exercise or something?"

"Yeah, well, if it is, it's a dumb one," Sero muttered, glancing uneasily at the frozen students.

At another table, Class 1-B was experiencing the same unsettling phenomena. Monoma looked around, completely bewildered. "Am I seeing things? Is everyone else frozen, or was there something in my food?"

Kendo stood up, her expression urgent. "You're not seeing things." Her gaze shifted to Shiozaki, who had clasped her hands together in front of her, her expression serene but her eyes betraying a hint of unease.

"Something's happening," Shiozaki said quietly. "It's not natural."

Tokage leaned back in her seat, her eyes narrowed as she looked around the cafeteria. "You think it's an earthquake or something? But... I mean, why would everyone else just freeze?"

Tetsutetsu, sitting beside them, clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he held onto the table. "Whatever it is, we should be ready. This doesn't feel right."

The lights flashed once more—this time not in a flicker, but in a blinding, steady blaze. It felt almost unnatural, the brightness flooding the entire room and spilling out into the hallway, making it impossible to see anything but the overwhelming white light.

"Everyone, hold on to something!" Iida shouted, his voice filled with urgency. He tried to steady himself, his hand gripping the edge of the table as the light seemed to pulse, filling every inch of the room.

Midoriya squinted, his heart pounding in his chest as the cafeteria seemed to disappear into the brightness. The ground beneath him began to vibrate, a strange sense of weightlessness overtaking him. "Uraraka, grab on!" he shouted, reaching out for her.

Uraraka grasped his sleeve, her eyes wide with fear. "Deku! What's happening?!"

"I—I don't know!" Midoriya shouted back, his voice barely audible over the deafening hum that filled the air. He turned his head, trying to see through the brightness, but it was useless. Everything was engulfed by the light.

Bakugo felt the strange sensation too—like gravity had suddenly lessened its grip. He looked around, his teeth gritted in frustration. "Damn it! What kind of trick is this?!" His gaze flicked to Kirishima, who was desperately holding onto the table.

"Baku-bro, this doesn't feel right at all!" Kirishima yelled, his voice barely cutting through the chaos. "It's like… it's like we're being pulled!"

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything went blank.

UA Academy's hallways were relatively quiet, the gentle hum of the overhead lights and the occasional echoes of student chatter from distant classrooms the only sounds that broke the stillness. As the lunch period continued, three faculty members walked side by side, fresh out of a brief meeting with other staff. Shota Aizawa, with his usual tired expression and disheveled appearance, walked at a relaxed pace, hands tucked lazily into his pockets. Beside him, Hizashi Yamada, better known to the students as Present Mic, was animated as always, his bright demeanor contrasting sharply with Aizawa's stoic nature. Nemuri Kayama, their colleague, followed slightly behind, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she eyed the two men in amusement.

"So, Shota," Yamada began, his grin wide and teasing, "I think I saw it—you actually cracked a smile back there. I knew you had it in you, buddy."

Aizawa shot him a flat, tired look, his eyes half-lidded. "You're imagining things," he said bluntly. "The faculty meeting was boring. Nothing to smile about."

Yamada let out a laugh, his voice echoing in the hallway. "Ah, come on, don't be like that! It's not every day that Nemuri here suggests we throw a surprise picnic for the students."

Kayama shrugged, a small smirk on her lips. "I only suggested it because they all looked like they were ready to collapse from exhaustion." She looked at Aizawa, her gaze thoughtful. "You know, I'm honestly surprised you haven't expelled any of your students yet. I figured at least one or two would've failed to meet your standards by now."

Aizawa gave a noncommittal grunt, glancing over at her. "They have potential," he said simply. "Expelling them wouldn't make sense when I see progress. They're all pushing themselves, and that's enough for now."

Kayama arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "For now, huh? So, you do think they're impressive, don't you?"

Aizawa gave a small sigh, his gaze shifting down the hallway as they walked. "I wouldn't go that far. But they're working hard. They're not giving me a reason to take drastic action, so I won't."

"See, Kayama, that's as close to a compliment as you're gonna get from ol' Aizawa here," Yamada said with a grin, nudging Aizawa lightly. "I think you actually like your kids, deep down. Admit it."

Aizawa frowned, his expression giving nothing away. "I'm just doing my job. If they do theirs, there's no need for drastic measures."

Yamada shook his head, still smiling, but his expression softened slightly as he considered something. "You know, though… seeing how hard these kids are pushing themselves lately, I can't help but wonder if we're doing right by them." He ran a hand through his blond hair, his usual energy giving way to a rare moment of genuine concern. "I mean, they look exhausted. Sometimes I worry we're putting too much on their shoulders, you know?"

Kayama nodded in agreement, her gaze distant as she thought of her students in her history class. "I've noticed it too. The workload is relentless. They're young, but they shouldn't be completely burnt out. There's gotta be a balance somewhere."

Aizawa, however, remained unflinching. He glanced at both of his colleagues, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's necessary to push them," he said, his voice steady. "If we don't push them beyond their limits here, then they'll never be ready for the real world. The pressure is part of their education. They need to learn how to handle it."

Yamada sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I get that, but they're still kids, man. They deserve a break every now and then, don't they?"

"They'll get their break during summer vacation," Aizawa replied, shrugging. "They'll have plenty of time to relax."

Kayama chuckled softly, a hint of irony in her voice. "Oh, you mean when they're not busy with all the summer homework we've assigned them? Face it, Aizawa, the poor kids are gonna be buried in assignments."

Aizawa gave a small, dismissive wave. "That's the price of a UA education. It's prestigious for a reason. If they make it through, they'll have opportunities others can only dream about."

"True," Kayama said, her tone more thoughtful now. "But sometimes, I think we forget that they're more than just students. They're people with their own worries and struggles."

Yamada nodded, a smile returning to his face, albeit a softer one this time. "Yeah, exactly. That's why we gotta look out for them, too. They're not just future professionals—they're kids trying to figure out who they are. And that's not easy when you're sleep-deprived and stressed out all the time."

Aizawa didn't respond right away. He considered their words for a moment, his eyes growing distant. Finally, he sighed. "I understand your concerns. But our job is to prepare them—to make them stronger. If they can handle UA, they'll be ready for anything."

Kayama exchanged a look with Yamada, a knowing smile on her lips. "You're a tough one, Aizawa. But I think deep down, you care a lot more than you let on."

Yamada laughed, pointing a finger at Aizawa. "Yeah, don't try to hide it, man. We all know you're secretly a softie."

Aizawa rolled his eyes, his face giving away nothing. "You both talk too much," he muttered.

Before anyone could respond, the hallway lights flickered again, this time more noticeably. The trio paused, looking up simultaneously.

Kayama frowned, her gaze sharp. "Okay, that's not normal."

Yamada nodded, a serious edge overtaking his usually carefree demeanor. "Yeah, I felt that one. Maybe it's a power issue?"

Aizawa's expression darkened, his instincts immediately kicking in. "We should check on the students. If something's happening, we need to be there." Without waiting, he turned and began heading towards the cafeteria at a brisk pace, his colleagues following closely behind.

The lights flickered once more, the brightness intensifying with each flash, and an uneasy sensation settled over them as they approached the cafeteria doors. A strange energy seemed to hum through the air, a vibration they could feel beneath their feet. Aizawa opened the cafeteria door, his eyes narrowing as the light suddenly blazed into a blinding glow, spilling into the hallway.

"What on earth…" Kayama began, but her words were cut off as the bright light consumed everything around them. It filled the room, enveloping them in an all-consuming white brilliance.

Yamada instinctively reached out, grabbing Kayama's wrist as if to anchor himself, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. "Stay together!"

But there was nothing more they could do. The light engulfed them completely, leaving behind only silence.

When the light faded, students from Class 1-A, Class 1-B, and several faculty members found themselves sprawled across a massive, pristine space. The room was unlike anything they had ever seen—vast and high-ceilinged, the walls aglow with a soft ambient light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Strange patterns shifted across the ceiling, flowing like water, while the walls shimmered as if alive. The environment gave the impression of being both a technological marvel and something more ancient, a contradiction that was impossible to fully understand.

Midoriya opened his eyes, blinking away the daze of the blinding transition. As his vision cleared, he pushed himself up, looking around in awe. Around him, his friends were also beginning to stir—Uraraka, Iida, Asui, and Todoroki were nearby, their expressions a mix of confusion and unease. The room was enormous, like a futuristic auditorium filled with advanced technology. Smooth, sleek surfaces seemed to pulse with light, and massive screens lined one side of the room, displaying streams of data in languages he couldn't recognize. It was nothing like the familiar walls of UA.

"What... where are we?" Midoriya murmured, still taking in the advanced architecture, the lines of light running through the floors, the hum of unseen power sources.

Uraraka struggled to her feet, her eyes wide with bewilderment. She looked around, catching sight of Iida, who was already standing, his face a mix of worry and determination.

"Uraraka! Midoriya! Asui!" Iida called out, his voice echoing through the vast chamber. "Everyone, please gather together! We need to understand what's happening!" He waved his arms to get the attention of his classmates, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of order.

Asui rubbed her eyes, her gaze scanning the strange space. "Ribbit... This is nothing like UA," she murmured, her tone filled with confusion.

Kaminari, meanwhile, was far from calm. He stumbled to his feet, his expression wild as he looked around. "What is this place?! Where are we?!" His voice cracked as he tried to make sense of it all.

Beside him, Minoru Mineta was already in full-blown panic. His eyes darted wildly from one strange sight to another, his fear almost palpable.

"This is bad! This is really bad!" Mineta wailed, clutching his head with both hands. "What if we're in some kind of alien experiment?! What if they're going to dissect us or probe us or—"

"Calm down, Mineta!" Yaoyorozu snapped, her nerves clearly fraying but her voice holding an authoritative edge. "Panicking is only going to make things worse." She glared at him sharply, and Mineta's frantic muttering quieted—though he still clung tightly to Kaminari, trembling.

"Yeah, man, we need to get it together," Kaminari said, trying to pry Mineta off. "I mean, I'm freaking out too, but losing it like this isn't gonna help."

Mineta let out another frantic whimper, eyes welling with tears. "I don't wanna die young! I haven't even had a girlfriend yet!" His voice cracked, filled with desperation.

Kaminari sighed heavily. "Seriously, dude, we've got bigger problems..."

Not far, Bakugo was reacting to their sudden relocation. His eyes snapped open, and he immediately growled, his body tensing like a coiled spring ready to strike. "What the hell?!" He stood up abruptly, looking around with fury blazing in his eyes. "Where the hell are we?!" He roared, his voice echoing through the unfamiliar space.

Kirishima was next to him, his own face a mix of confusion and concern. He grabbed Bakugo's arm before he could storm off. "Hey, hey, Baku-bro, chill out for a second. We don't even know what's going on yet. We need to stay calm."

Bakugo shot him an irritated glare, his fists clenched. "Calm? How the hell can anyone be calm?!"

Kirishima nodded, though his expression remained uneasy. "I get it, man, but we're all in the same boat here. Let's at least figure out what's happening first."

Across from them, Jiro was helping Ashido up. Jiro's normally relaxed expression was marred with concern. "This place... It's so strange," she said, her eyes scanning the ceiling and the strange patterns moving above them.

Ashido brushed herself off, her expression bewildered. "Yeah, like, where even are we? Did someone kidnap us?"

Sero, who had been sprawled out a few feet away, pushed himself up, giving a low whistle as he looked around. "This place is giving me sci-fi vibes. But seriously, who has this kind of tech?"

"Whoever it is," Bakugo growled, "they picked the wrong group to mess with." He took a step forward, his eyes scanning the vast room, as if daring someone to appear and explain.

In another part of the room, students from Class 1-B were slowly beginning to stand. Kendo looked around, taking stock of her classmates. Monoma, who had fallen nearby, was already back on his feet, brushing imaginary dust from his uniform, his face twisted in annoyance.

"This is just perfect!" Monoma snapped, pointing an accusatory finger in the direction of Class 1-A. "I bet this has something to do with you guys! Always dragging us into trouble! You're the ones who were part of that stupid tech program, weren't you?"

Bakugo's eyes narrowed, his annoyance shifting to outright fury as he snapped his head in Monoma's direction. "Grow up!" he shouted, his voice filled with barely contained rage. "Like hell we had anything to do with this, you damn idiot!"

Monoma folded his arms, his expression shifting to something smug and accusatory. "Oh please, Bakugo. How do we know this isn't some malfunction from whatever cutting-edge crap your class got involved in? You lot have a habit of getting special treatment and dragging the rest of us into chaos!"

Kirishima stepped in, putting a hand on Bakugo's shoulder before the situation escalated further. He shot a look over at Monoma. "Hey, this isn't the time to be throwing blame around. We're all in the same situation right now—we need to stick together and figure this out. None of us wanted this."

Kendo, hearing the rising tension, placed a firm hand on Monoma's shoulder. "Monoma, enough. We don't know what's happening. Throwing around accusations isn't going to help." She gave him a warning glance, her voice level but stern. "We need to figure out what's going on first, and that means not turning against each other."

Monoma huffed, but eventually looked away, though his annoyance still simmered beneath the surface. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you if something blows up because of them."

Shiozaki, who was standing beside Tokage and Tetsutetsu, clasped her hands together in front of her chest, her expression serene but troubled. "This place feels wrong. There's something... unnatural here," she said softly, her eyes wide as she gazed around.

Tokage, standing beside her, raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, no kidding. This is definitely not the school cafeteria. But who or what could've brought us here?"

Tetsutetsu clenched his fists, his face a mask of determination. "Wherever we are, we've gotta stick together and figure out what's going on. No way we're letting whoever did this get away with it."

Meanwhile, the teachers were scattered among the students. Aizawa slowly stood, his gaze sweeping across the strange room, taking in every detail with a sharp, assessing look. "Everyone, stay put," he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "No one moves until we figure out what's happening."

Kayama rubbed her temple, shaking her head slightly as she tried to clear the fog from the transition. "Whoever thought kidnapping an entire school group would be a good idea," she muttered, her eyes narrowing, "they're about to regret it."

Yamada looked around, his face a mix of confusion and reluctant excitement. "Yo, is it just me, or does it feel like we just got dropped into the middle of a sci-fi movie?" His usual upbeat tone was there, but the hint of concern in his eyes betrayed his unease.

As the students gathered, confusion and fear rippling across their faces, a soft hum began to resonate from one end of the space—a sound that was almost musical in its timbre. It caught everyone's attention, even Bakugo's shouting subsiding as heads turned toward the source.

Up on a raised platform at the far end of the room, a figure emerged from a pool of cascading light.

The light shifted, almost like water, and with it stepped a man clothed in flowing robes, adorned with celestial patterns that seemed to shimmer between hues of white, red, blue, and muted gold. The robe's fabric shifted like it was alive, glistening with subtle divine glows of blue and warm yellow that seemed to dance along the folds. The back of the robe bore an emblem: a golden, stylized 'C' shaped like an arrow curving downward, adorned with seven stars in the colors of the rainbow, and at its center rested a radiant cross.

The students watched in awe, their confusion momentarily replaced with something akin to wonder as the figure—Catalyst—stood tall, his presence demanding attention, yet exuding a comforting warmth. He lifted his hands in a calming gesture, the light from his robes spilling over the platform like ripples across a pond.

Beside him stood another figure, starkly different but equally captivating—an automaton, sleek in design, its body a blend of polished metal and dark alloys. Its form was intricate, detailed with engravings that glowed faintly in golden-orange and electric blue hues along its joints. The robot—Otto—stood still, his expressive LED eyes shifting colors as they scanned the students, as if measuring their reactions with a curiosity that belied his mechanical form.

Catalyst spoke, his voice carrying a warmth and authority that immediately filled the vast space. It was a tone that calmed without being forceful, that compelled without commanding. "Students and teachers of UA Academy," he began, his words clear, and yet soft enough to soothe the tension in the room. "Please, I ask for calm. You are safe here."

Otto remained silent beside Catalyst, his eyes shifting from a cautious amber to a more neutral blue as he observed the reactions of the gathered students. He scanned the group, focusing particularly on those like Iida, Yaoyorozu, and Kendo who were attempting to keep their classmates in check. The faint hum of his mechanical frame gave way to a subtle tilt of his head, the motion deliberate, as though he was trying to understand the nature of their fears and resolve.

Bakugo, however, wasn't easily swayed. He stepped forward, his teeth bared, fists clenched tight. "You better start explaining what the hell is going on before I—"

Before he could finish, Catalyst turned his gaze directly toward him, his eyes meeting Bakugo's with a gentle but unwavering calm. "I understand your anger, young one. You have every right to feel the way you do. But I assure you, no harm will come to any of you here. We did not bring you here to cause you distress."

Bakugo faltered slightly, the fire in his eyes dimming just a bit, though his fists remained clenched. Kirishima put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nod as if to say, "Let's hear them out."

Catalyst continued, his voice filling the silence that had begun to settle over the room. "You are here because some of you have questions—questions about your purpose, about what lies beyond the pursuit of a career or academic success. Many of you have felt the weight of expectations and wondered: is there more?"

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, his gaze sweeping across the students. The tension in the room seemed to shift, curiosity replacing the earlier apprehension as more students felt the resonance of his words.

"First, let me assure you," Catalyst said, his tone softening, "you are safe here. This is a secure space—an alternate dimension, if you will."

A murmur rippled through the room. Some faces brightened with a glimmer of relief, while others remained skeptical. Catalyst raised his hand gently, and, as if by his mere presence, calm returned.

"I know this may seem strange, even unreal," he continued, his eyes sincere. "But the reason we brought you here is simple: we want to show you something—The Truth," he said with conviction.

Aizawa's expression remained skeptical, his eyes narrowing. He crossed his arms and spoke, his voice cutting through the silence. "And why should we believe anything you say?" His question was met with nods of agreement from some students. Bakugo, standing nearby, glared up at Catalyst, his frustration bubbling visibly.

"Yeah, what's your angle?" Bakugo added, his tone sharp and challenging. "Why bring us here at all? What are you trying to pull?"

Catalyst nodded, acknowledging the question with a calm expression. "I do not expect your trust—at least not immediately," he replied, his voice unwavering. "Doubt is a natural response, and I respect that. All I ask is that you allow yourselves to see what I have to show. You may judge its worth for yourselves."

He then turned his gaze to the students, pausing on Midoriya. Midoriya's heart pounded, his curiosity slowly overcoming his fear. He tentatively raised his hand. "What do you mean by 'the truth'?" Midoriya asked, his voice cautious but eager.

Catalyst's eyes softened, and a knowing smile crossed his lips. "The Truth—specifically, the truth of the world's history, and humanity's greater purpose. Stories from ancient times that have shaped humanity, yet have been lost or misunderstood by most. This journey will take you to witness those moments for yourselves. What you will see may challenge what you believe to be real. But this challenge, this questioning, is the essence of discovery."

He paused, sensing the varied emotions in the room—doubt, fear, curiosity, and hope slowly rising to the surface.

"Enough with the cryptic nonsense!" Bakugo's voice cut through, sharp and demanding. He took a step forward, glaring at Catalyst with his usual fierce intensity. "So you're gonna show us some old clips and expect us to just eat it up? Just like that?"

Catalyst's smile widened, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Mr. Bakugo, is it?" He said, his voice carrying warmth with a hint of challenge. "I don't ask for blind acceptance. I encourage you all to question what you see, to investigate, debate, and think critically. That's the true essence of learning. If you're skeptical—good. It means you're paying attention."

Bakugo's scowl only deepened. "Fine! Then prove it! Show us something real!"

"Proof, he says?" Catalyst repeated calmly, his voice steady, a hint of something deeper—almost amused—beneath his words. He added quietly, as if speaking to himself, "A wicked generation demands a sign indeed."

Otto, standing beside Catalyst, crossed his arms, his LED eyes shifting hues as he smirked. "And bending the fabric of space-time to transport all of you here wasn't real enough?" he quipped, his mechanical tone dripping with sarcasm.

Catalyst turned to Bakugo fully, his expression gentle but unwavering. He nodded, almost as if he had anticipated this very moment. "Very well, Mr. Bakugo. Proof, then."

He made a slight gesture, and Otto stepped forward, his wristband projecting a soft, ethereal light. Slowly, the ambient glow of the room began to dim, and the shimmering patterns on the walls faded. The massive screen beside them flickered, and the shifting symbols were replaced by a vivid, moving image—a memory brought to life before their very eyes.

The image on the screen grew clearer. It was a playground—the familiar, nostalgic sight of an elementary school yard bordered by chain-link fences. The background was slightly blurred, like a half-forgotten dream. It then revealed a young Bakugo and two friends confronted a smaller boy before a young Midoriya rushed in to inject himself between the boy and Bakugo's crew.

As the scene unfolded, Uraraka leaned closer to Tsuyu, her voice a soft murmur, "Look at little Deku stepping in! He's always been so brave, hasn't he?" Her words brought smiles to some of the girls around her, and Midoriya, overhearing, felt his cheeks warm with a deep blush.

The footage then took a darker turn as Bakugo and his friends began to harass the smaller boy. Midoriya intervened, his voice small but firm, trying to stand up for his peer. The room grew tense as the audience watched; expressions of concern and discomfort emerged on the faces of many students.

Kaminari, standing next to Kirishima, whispered with a note of disbelief, "Man, Bakugo was really intense, even back then."

Ashido sighed heavily, shaking her head. "I mean, I knew there had to be history, but…" She trailed off, looking to Midoriya, her eyes filled with sympathy.

Kirishima's eyes darkened as he watched the scene. He clenched his fists, his face filled with disappointment. "Bakugo…" he began, his voice low. He looked over at Bakugo, who stood rigid, fists trembling as he stared at the ground, avoiding everyone's eyes.

"I mean, this... this is messed up," Kirishima said, looking back at the screen. "That's not the guy I know today." He turned back to the group, his expression softening. "It's not right, but... it was a long time ago. He's not that person anymore. We've all made mistakes, right?"

Bakugo's face flushed, his jaw tight. He still didn't look up, but his knuckles were turning white, his anger and shame palpable. "Shut up, Kirishima…" he muttered through gritted teeth.

Jirou crossed her arms, her gaze flicking between Bakugo and the screen. "Maybe. But this... it's still hard to see," she said, her voice quieter than usual. She glanced at Midoriya, sympathy in her eyes. "No one deserves that."

Monoma, standing near the back of the group, let out a scoff, his eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold. "Well, well, isn't this interesting? The 'Great Bakugo,' a fearless bully even at six," he sneered, a smug expression crossing his face. "And here I thought Class 1-A was filled with 'exemplary students.'"

Kendo sharply elbowed Monoma in the side. "Okay, that's enough Monoma."

Catalyst's gaze remained on the screen before gesturing once more, and the image faded, the screens returning to their soft glow. He turned his gaze to Bakugo and Midoriya, his expression gentle but firm. "Can you both verify to your peers that what we have seen is true?"

Midoriya, looking earnest, nodded his head. "Yes." He said sadly.

Bakugo, who was visibly uncomfortable, silently nodded in agreement.

A murmur of disapproval swept through the crowd, leading some faculty members to exchange disapproving looks and quietly scold Bakugo.

Bakugo's shoulders were rigid, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He stared at the ground, his face flushed with a mix of shame and anger. The weight of what he had just seen was almost unbearable. He couldn't bring himself to meet anyone's eyes—especially not Midoriya's. His jaw remained tight, his emotions boiling inside him, each breath strained as he fought the turmoil.

Midoriya, standing a few feet away, had his own gaze fixed downward. He avoided the looks of his classmates, even those of Uraraka and Iida who stood beside him, trying to comfort him in silence. For him, it wasn't just about revisiting old wounds—it was about everyone seeing it, having his pain laid bare for all to witness.

"Deku…" Uraraka said softly, her voice trembling as she reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The warmth of her touch was meant to reassure, but Midoriya still felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that made his heart ache.

Beside her, Iida frowned deeply, his usually steady demeanor showing cracks of frustration and sadness. He adjusted his glasses with a tense motion, his gaze shifting from the fading image of young Bakugo and Midoriya to the two standing before him now. His eyes were filled with compassion for Midoriya, but there was also a flash of disapproval in his expression, directed toward the Bakugo of the past. "That… behavior is unforgivable," he muttered, shaking his head slowly, his voice almost pained.

Midoriya gave a small nod, his eyes still downcast. "It was a long time ago," he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as the others. "We've… all grown since then. I've moved on…" His tone did not sound convincing.

Before the atmosphere could sour further, Catalyst raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "As we've just seen, truth is often difficult to face, but necessary for growth. I trust that this demonstration is enough to authenticate our ability to revisit and accurately represent the past?"

The room remained silent, tension hanging heavily.

After a long pause, Aizawa stepped forward, his gaze focused intently on Catalyst. His voice was calm but held a demanding edge. "Okay, we get it. You've somehow transported us across dimensions and shown us something from the past. It's clear you have power." He glanced back at his students, then turned his attention back to Catalyst. "So, tell us—what is it that you want us to learn? What is this truth you keep speaking of?"

Catalyst smiled, reminded of Pontius Pilate's famous question to Jesus. "You will see for yourselves… If you allow us a chance to show you."

Before Catalyst could respond though, Kayama took a step forward, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Hold on a second," she said, her voice direct. "You haven't even told us who you are or who your shiny metal friend here is. If you're asking us to trust you, the least you could do is introduce yourselves."

Catalyst's enigmatic smile grew a touch wider. He nodded graciously. "My apologies, Ms. Kayama. You are absolutely correct," he said, his gaze turning to the group. "I am Catalyst, and this here is my companion, Otto." He gestured towards Otto, whose LED eyes flickered slightly, shifting in color as he gave a polite bow.

"Hello," Otto said, his mechanical voice tinged with warmth. His segmented jaw moved smoothly, the faint glow beneath his plating shifting as he spoke. "As Catalyst mentioned, I am Otto, and I assure you, we are both here to guide you through what will undoubtedly be a transformative journey."

Yamada raised a hand, a skeptical but curious look on his face. "Alright, Catalyst, Otto… you say we're going to be here for a journey. How long are we talking here?" He glanced around at the group, then back to Catalyst. "And what about the basics—food, water, you know… all that stuff? We've got a bunch of teenagers here, and I don't think any of us want to deal with hunger tantrums."

Kayama nodded, crossing her arms. "He's right. If you've brought us here, you'd better be ready to provide for our needs."

Catalyst's expression remained calm, a gentle understanding in his eyes. "All of your needs will be provided," he reassured them. "Food, water, shelter—everything necessary for your well-being has been accounted for." He paused, then continued, "As for the length of time, I won't lie, you will be here for a while. However, rest assured, time here works differently than in your world. Your bodies will not age, and when this journey is complete, you will return to the exact moment you were taken. It will be as though no time has passed at all."

A murmur spread through the group—students exchanging nervous glances, their unease palpable. The idea of staying in an unknown place for an undefined period was unsettling, but the reassurance that time would not pass gave them some comfort.

"Wait, so, like... we're gonna be here for a while, but no one's gonna notice we're gone?" Kaminari said, scratching his head, his confusion evident.

"Precisely," Otto replied, nodding. "To everyone else, it will be as though nothing happened. But for you, it will be an experience beyond what you've ever known."

Uraraka took a deep breath before stepping forward, her voice tentative but filled with resolve. "We should hear them out," she said, glancing at her friends, her eyes settling on Midoriya. "I mean, we're already here…so, maybe it'll be worth it."

Iida nodded, his expression serious as he adjusted his glasses. "We have no real choice at this point. If there is something to be gained from this, then we owe it to ourselves to find out what it is."

One by one, the students began to nod in agreement, uncertainty still evident, but a sense of resolve slowly taking hold. Even Bakugo, though clearly bristling, gave a reluctant grunt, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Catalyst's eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, his expression softening as he looked over the group. "Very well," he said quietly. "Let us proceed."

He turned his gaze to Otto, giving a small nod of affirmation. Otto raised his mechanical hand and tapped a series of commands into the console embedded on his wristband.

The ground beneath them shifted, the polished metallic floor giving way to a more textured surface, a smooth transition that startled many of the students and teachers. Murmurs spread across the room, but before anyone could voice their confusion, the walls began to fold inward, morphing, changing.

The massive, empty space reformed itself into an amphitheater—a grand, circular room with comfortable seating that rose in tiers, each row elevated slightly above the next so that everyone could see. The new arrangement seemed to flow into existence seamlessly, as though the space was a living thing.

Soft marker lights glowed along the steps leading to the rows of seats, their subtle gleam guiding the group to find their places. The students and teachers exchanged glances, still wary, but slowly moving to sit as there was little choice otherwise.

"All of you feel free to take seats while we make preparations," Catalyst encouraged.

The students looked between each other before shrugging and began filling seats, the three faculty members heading for the back to keep an eye on their students. A mood of intense curiosity and mild apprehension was set as the spacious room buzzed with whispers and conjectures about the day's proceedings.

As Midoriya began to fill in a row with his friends, there was suddenly a subtle shift—a sensation almost imperceptible, yet enough for some of the students to blink in confusion. Time seemed to slow, and then freeze entirely. The entire room, with its ambient lights beginning to dim and the machinery humming, paused in mid-transformation.

Catalyst stepped away from the front of the room, approaching Midoriya, who sat among his classmates. Midoriya, noticing the unnatural stillness, felt his heart skip a beat. He glanced around—the other students and teachers appeared frozen, like statues, their expressions frozen in place, filled with curiosity, wariness, or fear.

His gaze returned to Catalyst, who stood before him with a gentle smile.

"Um, sir, what's going on? Why is everyone else frozen?" Midoriya asked, voice filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Relax, Mr. Midoriya. I've simply frozen time around us." Catalyst smiled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

"You make it sound so casual," Midoriya noted, awed. This is like something out of sci-fi manga!

Catalyst transitioned. "I understand you enjoy taking notes on things that interest you? Mostly manga and superhero studies, yes? 'The Adventures of All-Might' particularly fascinates you, if I'm not mistaken."

Midoriya blushed slightly, his gaze shifting down as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Y-yeah, that's right..." His voice was small, clearly surprised by how much this mysterious figure seemed to know about him.

With a flourish, Catalyst reached into his robe and pulled out a simple yet elegant notebook accompanied by a mechanical pencil. The notebook's cover had faint, shimmering designs—celestial symbols that seemed to dance in the light. Catalyst offered them to Midoriya, his expression warm and encouraging.

"Then you may want this," Catalyst said, handing the notebook and pencil to Midoriya.

Midoriya hesitated only for a second before accepting the items with evident gratitude. "Oh, thank you, sir!" He ran his fingers over the smooth cover of the notebook, marveling at its intricate design.

"These aren't ordinary stationery," Catalyst continued, his tone playful, yet still carrying an unmistakable depth. "The notebook will generate as many pages as you need, and the pencil will never run out of graphite, nor will the eraser wear down."

Midoriya's eyes widened, his awe evident. "Seriously?!"

"Believe me," Catalyst said with a nod, his expression growing more serious, "after what you're about to see, you'll be grateful not to have a limit on the pages. This journey may require you to take extensive notes—notes that could help you understand what has been hidden from so many." Catalyst gave him an encouraging smile, his hand resting momentarily on Midoriya's shoulder. "That's all, young one."

With that, Catalyst straightened, and in an instant, he was no longer in front of Midoriya. Time resumed once more—the room shifted, the ambient lights continued to dim.

Midoriya blinked twice, disoriented for a moment by the sudden shift back into normalcy. He glanced down at the notebook resting in his lap. To his surprise, there was already a title imprinted on the cover in delicate, shimmering script: Analysis of the True History.

He stared at it for a moment, his heart pounding with excitement, curiosity, and perhaps a hint of trepidation. He carefully opened the notebook, feeling a strange sense of purpose forming in his chest. Whatever they were about to learn, he knew it would be worth recording.

"So," Jiro drawled, "anyone have any clue what these guys want to show us?"

Taking a seat beside her, Yaoyorozu had a thoughtful expression. "Considering the capabilities of our host, I wouldn't be surprised if they showed us something as monumental as the formation of the solar system or the very creation of Earth itself," she suggested, her voice filled with a mix of awe and scientific intrigue.

Midoriya, nodding eagerly, added, "That would be incredible, wouldn't it? To see the actual events that led to the formation of our planet—like witnessing the Big Bang or the accretion of cosmic dust!" He rested the gifted notebook on his lap, ready to take notes.

Uraraka, an avid lover of astronomy, was visibly excited at the prospect. "Ooh! I was a bit worried about this, but now I'm getting really excited!" She fist-pumped the air.

Across the row, Kaminari—who took a vacant seat by Jiro—had a playful tone. "Do you think they might show us dinosaurs too? I mean, if we're going back that far."

Jiro smirked in response. "Since this is about Earth's history, I would think so."

"I hope so!" exclaimed Tokage, who was sitting a row in front of them. She grinned widely at the idea. "Dinosaurs are awesome! We can see how they ruled the world and how the asteroid wiped them all out."

"Personally," Ms. Kayama chimed in, "I'd be more interested in seeing the first humans. I wonder if they're anything like what we've learned in anthropology?"

Aizawa, however, sunk deeper into his chair, clearly disinterested. "…I just want this to be over."

"Ah, come on, buddy," Yamada elbowed him playfully. "Get excited! We're about to see history play out before our very eyes! That's definitely something worth getting pumped up about!"

"Pipe down," Aizawa groaned in response, trying to mask his slight curiosity with his usual stoicism.

Meanwhile, Shiozaki seemed less enthused by the speculations; especially with how they contradicted her own biblical beliefs. Her face was tense, her voice low but firm as she spoke to her classmate, Tetsutetsu. "I can't help but feel uneasy about all this."

Tetsutetsu, ever the optimist, clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Hey, no matter what, it's a learning experience, right? We face it head-on, just like any other challenge! That's what being a UA student is all about!"

Near the front, Bakugo snorted dismissively. "Whatever they show us, it better be worth our time."

Meanwhile, Catalyst stood at the back of the theater near the control station, where Otto was busy setting up the first round of presentations. He exchanged a knowing smirk with the robotic assistant. "Did you catch their conversations?"

"Naturally. My advanced auditory sensors are always active," Otto replied in his crisp, synthesized tone. "They seem completely unaware of what's about to unfold, don't they?"

"They're certainly in for a revelation," Catalyst responded, his gaze drifting toward Shiozaki. "Though she may have a rudimentary grasp of what's true, even she will find what's to come startling; especially later on."

Otto nodded in agreement. "Keep in mind, our role is simply to present the facts and the evidence. From there, it's up to them to form their own conclusions, as the Creator intended."

Catalyst nodded in full agreement before teleporting himself to the front of the room.

In the center of the auditorium, at the very front, a large screen descended from above, widening as it lowered until it filled the wall behind Catalyst, a blank canvas waiting to be brought to life. From the control station in the back, Otto's LED-based eyes shifted to a gentle blue as he looked up at Catalyst, signaling that everything was ready.

The lighting in the room dimmed further, leaving just enough illumination for everyone to see their surroundings. A single soft light fell over Catalyst, who stood at the bottom of the room, facing the group, the screen behind him casting a faint glow. His flowing robe seemed to shimmer under the dim light, the celestial patterns almost coming to life as he took his position at the center.

"Welcome! On behalf of myself and my ever-faithful and up-to-date assistant, Otto," Catalyst began, pausing as Otto cast a slightly annoyed glance at the mention of his updates, "we are thrilled to host you today as we explore the history of the universe, the Earth, and humankind."

The audience responded with a round of applause, though a sense of unease lingered beneath the surface.

Monoma, unable to resist commenting, added with a sly smirk, "Well, we didn't really have much of a choice in coming, did we?"

His remark earned him a sharp pinch from Kendo, who whispered sternly, "Maybe try NOT to sass the guy who can warp reality?"

Catalyst chuckled warmly at the exchange, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, it's quite alright, Ms. Kendo. I take no offense." He turned his attention back to the group, his eyes gleaming with gentle mischief. "In fact, I appreciate honesty, even if it comes with a touch of sarcasm."

He then refocused on the presentation. "Before we begin, I'd like to pose a question to all of you: How old do you believe our Earth is?" His voice echoed slightly, stirring the audience into a murmur of contemplation.

Midoriya was the first to respond, his voice carrying a mix of enthusiasm and respect. "Based on geological studies and fossil records, the scientific consensus is that the Earth is about 4.5 billion years old."

Yaoyorozu nodded in agreement, adding her own scholarly touch. "Indeed, this age has been determined through various forms of radiometric dating of rocks and meteorites."

In contrast, Shiozaki looked visibly unsettled by the discussion. She spoke up, her voice tinged with a hint of skepticism. "But isn't it possible that our methods might be flawed, or that our interpretations could be incorrect?"

Yaoyorozu responded, her voice steady. "There's always the possibility, but these methods are supported by the consistency of results across multiple testing techniques, which reinforces the reliability of the data."

The debate was growing more animated when Otto decided to introduce something more concrete. "Let us now test these theories with the Chrono-Counter," he declared, his synthesized voice carrying a tone of unemotional authority.

The screen behind Catalyst flickered to life, displaying four blocky digits blinking at zero.

"This device represents a zenith of technological advancement, well beyond anything currently available to you. It almost borders on the supernatural. For those interested in the specifics, I will be available during the intermission to delve into its workings," Otto continued, his voice hinting at a slight tone of superiority.

He paused for a moment to ensure the audience's attention was fully captured, then continued, "The Chrono-Counter will count backwards from the present day of Earth to the estimated moment of its formation. Let's observe how well the results align with your current scientific understanding."

With a flick of a switch, the numbers on the screen began to whirl backward rapidly. The audience watched in anticipation—except for one.

Bakugo, growing increasingly impatient, scoffed loudly. "Are we really going to sit here until it hits 4 billion? This better be quick."

Catalyst turned his gaze towards Bakugo, his expression unfazed, a patient smile forming on his lips. "Ah, Mr. Bakugo. Impatience is a common response when faced with the unknown. Rest assured, you shall not be kept waiting."

As if in response, the counter suddenly froze—far earlier than anyone had anticipated. The numbers stopped at an unexpected value.

6424

The abrupt halt of the Chrono-Counter sent a wave of shock throughout the room, silencing the audience as they fixed their eyes on the number displayed on the screen. A heavy tension enveloped them as they struggled to comprehend the radical implication about Earth's age.

With a knowing smirk, Catalyst addressed the crowd, focusing particularly on Bakugo. "It appears the Chrono-Counter has swiftly addressed your concern, Mr. Bakugo."

Whispers of confusion and disbelief spread through the students and faculty, their faces a mixture of astonishment and skepticism. Midoriya stared at the screen, his eyes wide, his brain scrambling to make sense of the impossible.

Catalyst stepped forward, his grin unwavering, his voice resonant and calm. "As you can see, the history you have been taught about Earth's age diverges significantly from its true age. The billions of years you have studied in your textbooks are, in truth, merely thousands."

Shiozaki let out a small gasp, her eyes widening as she grasped the implication of the number on the screen. A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind, her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and hope. Could it really be true?

Yaoyorozu, thoughtful and analytical, spoke up, her brow furrowed. "Are you suggesting that our entire understanding of geology, archaeology, even astronomy, has been fabricated or at least misinterpreted?"

Catalyst nodded, his expression becoming more solemn. "Not entirely, Ms. Yaoyorozu. Much of what your sciences have discovered is true, but the interpretations are often flawed. Sometimes this is due to innocent misconceptions; at other times, it is by design."

Pausing to let his words sink in, Catalyst continued, "Tell me, are any of you familiar with the term 'Apparent Age'?"

The room fell mostly silent, though Midoriya tentatively raised his hand. "I believe I am. It refers to an object appearing older than it truly is, or vice versa. Right?"

Catalyst clapped his hands together approvingly. "Exactly!"

Kaminari, attempting to relate, chimed in, "So, it's like people dyeing their hair to cover the gray?"

Mineta, ever the provocateur, added with a chuckle, "Or like how some people use makeup to look younger than they are." He glanced sideways and began, "Like Ms. Kaga—"

"You better not finish that sentence, Mineta!" Kayama snapped, her voice cutting like a whip.

"Yes, ma'am! I didn't say anything!" Mineta quickly backpedaled.

Yamada, grinning, nudged Aizawa. "Guess the reverse applies to you, Shota. Your perpetually tired look makes you seem older than you are."

Aizawa shrugged, his expression unruffled. "It's functional," he replied simply, his typical pragmatic nature shining through.

Refocusing on the matter at hand, Midoriya leaned forward, curiosity burning in his eyes. "So, Mr. Catalyst, are you suggesting that even though our measurements indicate that the Earth is old, the concept of apparent age might apply?"

Catalyst's eyes gleamed with warmth and understanding. "Catalyst is fine, Mr. Midoriya, and yes. Appearances can be deceiving."

Bakugo frowned deeply, clearly still skeptical. "Seriously? You expect us to believe this 'Chrono-Counter' is real?"

Kirishima, trying to diffuse the tension, interjected, "I mean, they did show us that clip from the past earlier."

"Tch." Bakugo turned his face away, still visibly upset. His scowl deepened, but he remained seated, reluctantly deciding to see where this was all going.

Catalyst smiled once more, addressing everyone as his robe shimmered under the auditorium lights. "I understand skepticism—it is a healthy response to something that challenges your worldview. But I urge you to remain open. We have only just begun, and the truth is often more incredible than anything you could imagine."

Midoriya nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on Catalyst, his mind whirling with questions. He finally spoke up, his voice uncertain yet curious. "It's... it's still shocking. I mean, being told that everything we've learned our whole lives—the age of the Earth, all of it—was wrong… it's almost impossible to believe."

Catalyst regarded Midoriya warmly, nodding. "I understand. For you and everyone here, it must seem unthinkable. Your entire perception of history has been built on the foundations of what you were taught from childhood. To have that shaken so abruptly is not an easy thing to accept. But sometimes, challenging the foundations allows us to find deeper truths."

Mineta, unable to contain himself, blurted out from the back, his eyes wide and voice quivering with uncertainty. "Hold on! You can warp reality, read our minds, and show us the past! I have to ask… Are you some kind of god or something?!"

Catalyst's expression grew serious, and he shook his head firmly. "No, Mr. Mineta. I am not a god," he said, his voice calm but resolute. "The power I possess was bestowed upon me by someone infinitely greater, and I am but a servant of that cause. My purpose is not to be worshipped, nor to claim any form of divinity."

The room fell silent, Catalyst's words hanging in the air, as each of the students processed what he had said. The expressions on their faces ranged from confusion to curiosity to disbelief.

Aizawa's gaze sharpened, scrutinizing Catalyst. "What exactly is your purpose? You've brought us here, claiming to show us the 'true history' of the world, but there has to be another angle. What are you really after?"

Catalyst's eyes softened, and he gave a slight nod, acknowledging Aizawa's suspicion. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice steady and sincere. "I understand your concerns, Mr. Aizawa. Skepticism is not only expected but wise in this situation. I assure you, I have not brought you here to deceive or to mislead. There is no hidden agenda in my intentions."

He paused, the glow of the screen behind him casting a soft light over his features. "I wish to embody the new name given to me, to be the catalyst for change in places where there has been none for centuries. UA Academy has produced brilliant minds—leaders and contributors to Japanese society. If, after everything I present to you, I can reach even one individual—if one of you is moved to bring about real, positive change—then it will all have been worth it."

Catalyst looked out at the group, his eyes full of purpose. "That, Mr. Aizawa, is my 'angle' in all of this."

The sincerity in Catalyst's voice was clear, and it seemed to resonate with some of the students. Midoriya found himself leaning forward slightly, intrigued. The way Catalyst spoke—it wasn't about power or control, it was about something deeper, something that could genuinely make a difference.

Yaoyorozu exchanged a glance with Todoroki, her brow furrowed in thought. The uncertainty still hung in the air, but Catalyst's words had started to stir something in them—an idea, a possibility.

Kaminari leaned over to whisper to Kirishima, his voice barely audible. "Did he say... he was gifted a new name? If he's not a god, then... who exactly is he?"

Kirishima shrugged slightly, his eyes still fixed on Catalyst. "I don't know, man. But... whatever he is, he seems pretty serious about this 'change' thing."

Midoriya was thoughtful over their host's answer. So his name wasn't always Catalyst? What was his name before? Was he just a regular person? Who gave him his new name? The same one who gave Catalyst his power? Could it have be an actual god? His mind raced with potential possibilities.

Catalyst noticed the whispers but chose to let them linger, allowing the students time to absorb his words. He knew that skepticism could not be dispelled with a simple declaration. It would take time, evidence, and understanding. He was prepared for that.

Catalyst turned to Otto, who had remained quiet at his station, and nodded. The robot gave a small nod of approval as he adjusted the control panel. With a soft hum, the massive screen behind Catalyst flickered to life—vivid colors swirling and merging together in mesmerizing patterns.

"Before we start, I should provide needed context," Catalyst began, looking up at the screen, "Otto and I have enhanced these presentations with background music to enrich the experience. Additionally, whenever individuals from ancient times speak on screen, their words will be translated into Japanese in real time, so it will feel as if they are speaking directly to you."

Yamada's eyes lit up with curiosity, a smile crossing his face. "Ancient languages, huh? Sounds fascinating! I'd love to know more about those soundtracks, too."

Aizawa shrugged, his expression unchanging. "Translating to our native language is certainly the most practical choice if you want these kids to pay attention."

Catalyst offered a warm smile. "Anyone interested in learning more about the ancient languages or soundtracks, feel free to approach Otto or me during the intermissions," he said before continuing, "Now, for the first presentation, we will showcase a thirty-minute highlight capturing Earth at its very beginning." His gaze swept across the audience. "Afterward, there will be a one-hour intermission before we reconvene for the next segment."

Kayama raised her hand, her brow arched with curiosity. "Only thirty minutes for such a massive topic? And then an hour-long intermission? Seems a bit lopsided, doesn't it?"

Aizawa's voice cut in, dry as usual. "I'm not complaining about an extra-long break."

Catalyst nodded, understanding the faculty's questions. His expression remained thoughtful. "Your point is valid, Ms. Kayama. However, the intermission is intentionally lengthy. What you are about to see may be overwhelming to some. The extended time is to allow reflection and to mentally process what will be presented."

The murmurs among the students grew louder as uncertainty rippled through the auditorium. Many exchanged anxious glances, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind Catalyst's words.

Yaoyorozu leaned closer to Todoroki, her voice low with concern. "What could he mean by that? Reflection? Mental preparation? It all sounds rather... foreboding."

Iida, his brow deeply furrowed, adjusted his glasses as he spoke. "It does sound a bit ominous. To challenge our very understanding of the world—what exactly are they implying?"

Uraraka, ever optimistic, tried to lighten the mood. "I mean, it's just going to be about how the Earth formed, right? Like, cosmic dust and stuff?"

Todoroki's gaze was distant, as though lost in thought. "The counter said the Earth is only 6,424 years old. If that's true... maybe the formation is different from what we've been taught."

Midoriya, who had been silent up to this point, slowly opened the notebook that Catalyst had given him. The cover read "Analysis of the True History" in elegant script. He traced the title with his fingers, his mind swirling with questions. The Chrono-Counter, the claims Catalyst had made—what did it all mean? As his curiosity grew, so did his determination to understand.

Just then, the lights in the auditorium dimmed to near darkness, leaving only a soft glow emanating from the giant screen at the front. The chatter in the room faded into hushed silence, the air thick with anticipation.

Catalyst's voice, calm and almost reverent, broke the quiet. "We begin at the very beginning. The creation of all things—something you may have heard described in countless ways. But I assure you, the truth is more profound than any simple story you may have been told."

Midoriya's grip on the notebook tightened. His heart raced, his mind buzzing with excitement and unease. He already felt the urge to begin taking notes, his pencil hovering above the page.

With a final tap from Otto at the control panel, the screen glowed brighter, casting flickering light across the gathered audience. Words appeared in bold, golden letters, stretching across the screen:

"Genesis 1."