What if deku had a moon quirk

 

The sky was not just an expanse of blue or a canopy of stars to Izuku Midoriya; it was a clock, a calendar, and the ultimate arbiter of his worth.

 

Before he could properly read a children’s book, Izuku could read the heavens. He knew the difference between a Waxing Gibbous and a Waning Crescent before he knew how to tie his shoes. He knew that when the sky was dark and the stars were lonely, the world felt heavy, as if his very bones were made of lead. And he knew that when the silver pearl of the full moon hung high and proud, his blood hummed like a live wire, filled with an energy that tasted like cold mint and static electricity.

 

"An Emitter and Transformation hybrid, Mrs. Midoriya," the doctor said, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. The harsh fluorescent lights of the clinic reflected off the lenses. "It is incredibly rare. Highly conditional, but undeniably present."

 

Four-year-old Izuku sat on the examination table, swinging his short legs. He didn’t care about words like 'hybrid' or 'conditional'. All he heard was that he had a Quirk. He wasn't going to be left behind.

 

"So... he can be a hero?" Inko Midoriya asked, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

 

"Theoretically," the doctor mused, flipping through the charts on his clipboard. "The Quirk registry will likely classify it under 'Lunar Cycle' or something similar. His body is a solar battery, but it doesn't process direct sunlight. Instead, his biology acts as a prism for the light reflected off the moon. As the lunar phase changes, the type and volume of energy he can synthesize changes dramatically."

 

The doctor turned to Izuku, a condescending but fascinated smile on his face. "Show me again, young man."

 

Izuku grinned. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his small, chubby fists. It was the middle of the afternoon, but outside, a faint, pale half-moon was visible in the blue sky. Izuku felt the familiar tug in his stomach—a pulling sensation, like the ocean drawing away from the shore.

 

The doctor’s clipboard suddenly trembled. With a metallic clatter, it ripped out of the man’s hands and floated through the air, smacking gently into Izuku’s outstretched palms.

 

"Fascinating," the doctor muttered. "Gravity manipulation tied to the tidal forces of a Half Moon phase. But yesterday, your mother said you were making shadows dance on the wall?"

 

"That was a New Moon!" Izuku chirped, holding the clipboard like a prized trophy. "It was dark outside!"

 

"Exactly. His power is entirely dependent on the lunar cycle and the ambient moonlight he can absorb," the doctor explained to Inko. "During the day, with the sun outshining the moon, his output will drop significantly, maybe down to ten or twenty percent of its true capacity. At night, he will be much stronger. And his abilities will shift entirely every week. He will need to learn to adapt constantly."

 

Inko exhaled a breath she had been holding for months, pulling Izuku into a tight hug. Izuku buried his face in her shoulder, a massive grin spreading across his face. He had a Quirk. A cool one! He was going to be just like All Might, saving people with a fearless smile.

 

But the joy of a four-year-old is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the cruelty of the playground.

 

 

 

"What kind of hero only works the night shift?" Katsuki Bakugo sneered, his hands popping with miniature, firecracker explosions.

 

It was two weeks later. The boys were gathered at the edge of the sandbox in the local park. The sun was beating down harshly, offering no reprieve from the sweltering afternoon heat. Izuku stood in front of Katsuki, his bottom lip trembling.

 

"I-I can work in the day too, Kacchan!" Izuku protested.

 

"Yeah? Show me." Katsuki crossed his arms, smirking. The other kids in their small entourage leaned in, eager for a show.

 

Izuku swallowed hard. He looked up at the sky. It was completely empty. The lunar calendar his mother had bought him said today was a New Moon. The moon was between the Earth and the Sun; its illuminated side was facing completely away from them.

 

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the shadows cast by the playground equipment. He tried to pull on them, tried to make them stretch or dampen the sound of the cicadas humming in the trees. He strained until his face turned red, but under the blazing afternoon sun, with no ambient moonlight to draw from, his connection to the New Moon phase was practically nonexistent.

 

A tiny, pathetic wisp of darkness flickered at the edge of Katsuki's shadow, stretching maybe an inch before snapping back into place.

 

Katsuki stared at the shadow. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. It was a sharp, mocking sound.

 

"That's it?" Katsuki wheezed. "You made a shadow slightly longer? What are you gonna do, Midoriya, give the villain a sunburn? Shade them to death?"

 

"It's just the phase!" Izuku pleaded, stepping forward, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "When it's a Half Moon, I can pull things! When it's a Full Moon, I'm super strong! The doctor said so!"

 

"Who cares what the doctor said?" Katsuki shoved Izuku backward. Izuku stumbled, falling hard onto the sand. "A hero has to be ready all the time! You think a villain is gonna check a calendar before they blow up a bank? 'Oh no, it's a Full Moon, we better wait until Midoriya is weak again!'"

 

The other kids erupted into laughter.

 

"You're not a hero, Deku," Katsuki said, his voice dropping into a vicious sneer, looking down at Izuku with utter disdain. "You're a part-timer. A defective extra. Don't even try to stand on the same stage as me."

 

Izuku sat in the sand, the heat of the sun bearing down on his shoulders. He looked down at his small hands. He had a Quirk. He had power. But Katsuki was right. What good was a power that disappeared when the sky decided to change its face? What good was a hero who had to check the calendar before saving a life?

 

 

 

Ten years passed.

 

Izuku Midoriya sat at his desk in the back of the classroom at Aldera Junior High, frantically scribbling in his notebook. He was fourteen now, his unruly green hair practically a bird's nest, his uniform a little too large for his scrawny frame.

 

The notebook in front of him was titled Hero Analysis for the Future, Vol. 13. However, right next to it lay a very different kind of book: a thick, leather-bound astronomical almanac, heavily annotated with sticky notes, highlighted margins, and complex mathematical equations.

 

Izuku tapped his pencil against his chin, checking his wristwatch. It wasn't just a standard digital watch; it was a high-end lunar phase chronometer.

 

Date: Friday, April 12th.

Current Phase: Waxing Crescent (18% Illumination).

Moonrise: 8:14 AM. Moonset: 10:45 PM.

Current Time: 2:30 PM.

 

Izuku mentally ran the numbers. Because the moon had risen in the morning, it was currently in the sky, though invisible to the naked eye against the glare of the sun. Because it was daylight, the sun's electromagnetic radiation was causing massive interference with his Quirk. He estimated his current power output at roughly 14% of his nighttime maximum.

 

Waxing Crescent, Izuku thought, his mind racing. The Crescent phase grants hard-light constructs and agility. At 14% efficiency, I could probably conjure a shield the size of a dinner plate, or a blade no longer than a paring knife. My agility is slightly enhanced, maybe enough to outrun a bicycle, but not a car.

 

It was a frustrating existence. To be Izuku Midoriya was to live a life governed by percentages and phases.

 

During the New Moon, he was practically Quirkless during the day, though at night he became a ghost—able to manipulate shadows into solid tendrils and absorb ambient sound to move in utter silence.

During the Crescent Moon, he was a fencer, generating shimmering, silver hard-light from his skin that could be shaped into rudimentary weapons or shields.

During the Half Moon, he became the master of tides, able to manipulate gravity by shifting his own mass or the mass of objects he touched.

And during the Full Moon...

 

Izuku shuddered, pushing the thought away. He hated the Full Moon. He rarely recorded notes on it anymore.

 

"Since you're all third years, it's time for you to think seriously about your futures," the homeroom teacher announced, standing at the front of the class with a stack of career aptitude forms.

 

Izuku stopped tapping his pencil.

 

"I'll pass out handouts for your future plans now, but..." The teacher suddenly grinned, grabbing the stack of papers and tossing them into the air like confetti. "You're all pretty much planning to go into the hero course, right?!"

 

The classroom erupted into cheers. Students activated their Quirks in celebration—fingers elongating, eyes glowing, small bursts of water or fire shooting toward the ceiling.

 

"Yes, yes, you all have wonderful Quirks," the teacher chuckled. "But using your powers in school is against the rules!"

 

"Sensei! Don't lump me in with these losers!"

 

The loud, arrogant voice cut through the noise like a knife. Izuku flinched, shrinking down in his seat. Katsuki Bakugo was leaning back in his chair, his feet kicked up on his desk, a smug grin plastered across his face.

 

"As if I had anything in common with these weaklings' crappy Quirks," Katsuki mocked. "They'd be lucky to end up as sidekicks to some busted D-lister."

 

The class erupted in outrage. "You think you're better than us, Katsuki?!"

 

"I've got the mock test results to prove it!" Katsuki shot back. "I'm the only one here with the stuff to make it to U.A. High School. I'm gonna surpass All Might and become the top hero!"

 

The teacher looked down at his clipboard. "Oh, right. Midoriya, don't you want to go to U.A. too?"

 

The classroom fell dead silent. For a second, the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock. Then, the entire class burst into uproarious laughter.

 

"Midoriya? No way!"

"You can't get into U.A. just by being a giant nerd!"

"What's he gonna do, ask the villains to reschedule the fight until nightfall?"

 

Izuku stood up quickly, his face burning bright red. "T-They got rid of that rule! There's no rule against inconsistent Quirks anymore! I-I could be the first! Besides, I can fight during the day, I just—"

 

BOOM!

 

Before Izuku could finish, a massive explosion rocked his desk, blowing it in half and sending Izuku tumbling backward onto the floor. Smoke filled the back of the classroom.

 

Izuku coughed, waving the smoke away, only to find Katsuki looming over him, his palms smoking and his red eyes narrowed in pure fury.

 

"Listen up, 'Part-Timer'," Katsuki growled, his voice dangerously low. "You're worse than the Quirkless. You have a power, but it's a joke. You're a malfunctioning battery. Half the month you're useless, and the other half you're a liability. You think you can rub shoulders with me?!"

 

"N-No! Kacchan, I swear I'm not trying to compete with you!" Izuku scrambled backward until his back hit the wall. "It's just... it's been my dream since I was little. And I won't know unless I try..."

 

"Try what?!" Katsuki yelled. "The entrance exam is in February! Do you even know what phase it's going to be on the day of the practical? What if it's a New Moon, huh? You gonna hide in the shadows while the rest of us actually destroy the robots? You'll die in the exams, Deku."

 

Katsuki grabbed Izuku's notebook from the floor. Hero Analysis for the Future. He scoffed, pressing his palm against it. A small explosion reduced the notebook to charred, smoking ruin. He casually tossed it out the open window.

 

"Most top-tier heroes have stories about them from their school days. I want the shine of being able to be called the only student to make it into U.A. from this mediocre city public middle school," Katsuki said smoothly, turning away. He paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder.

 

"If you want to be a hero so badly, there might be another way. Just pray that you're born with a real Quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building!"

 

Izuku froze, his breath catching in his throat. The cruelty of the words echoed in the silent classroom. He watched as Katsuki and his lackeys walked away, leaving Izuku alone with the smell of burnt paper and the crushing weight of his own limitations.

 

 

 

The walk home was a miserable affair.

 

Izuku managed to fish his charred notebook out of the koi pond behind the school. He tried to brush off the water and the fish food, but the pages were ruined, the ink bleeding into illegible smudges. He sighed, staring down at the ruined cover.

 

Why do I even bother? he thought, dragging his feet as he walked through the city streets. Kacchan is right. A hero needs to be reliable. They need to be a pillar. How can I be a pillar of peace when the foundation of my power shifts every single day?

 

He checked his watch again. 4:15 PM. The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and bruised purple. The moon was still hidden in the brightness, a Waxing Crescent.

 

Izuku turned off the main street, opting for the shortcut through a shaded underpass. The tunnel was dark, cool, and eerily quiet. His footsteps echoed off the concrete walls.

 

He was so lost in his depressive thoughts that he didn't notice the strange, squelching sound coming from the sewer grate behind him. He didn't notice the smell of raw sewage and stagnant water filling the air.

 

"A medium-sized meat suit... perfect."

 

Izuku stopped, his blood running cold. He turned around.

 

Rising from the manhole cover was a towering mass of dark green, viscous sludge. It had no shape, no solid form, save for two bulbous eyes and a jagged set of teeth floating within the muck.

 

Before Izuku could scream, the villain lunged.

 

A wave of thick, suffocating sludge crashed into him, pinning his arms to his sides and wrapping around his throat. Izuku fell to his knees, his hands frantically clawing at the slime, but his fingers slipped uselessly through the liquid mass.

 

"Don't worry," the villain gurgled, his voice wet and distorted. "I'm just taking over your body. It'll only hurt for about 45 seconds. Then, it'll all be over. Thanks for being my hero, kid. I needed to get away from that guy."

 

Sludge forced its way up Izuku's nose and into his mouth. The taste was unimaginable—like rotting garbage and copper. Panic, cold and primal, seized his heart. He couldn't breathe. His lungs screamed for oxygen.

 

I'm dying, Izuku thought, his vision beginning to blur with black spots. I'm actually going to die here.

 

No.

 

Survival instinct kicked in, overriding the panic. Izuku forced his eyes open. He looked past the villain, toward the end of the tunnel. Through the archway, he could see a sliver of the afternoon sky.

 

Focus, his mind screamed. Time: 4:17 PM. Phase: Waxing Crescent. Illumination: 18%. Light interference: High.

 

He didn't have much power. It was daylight. But he didn't need to destroy the villain; he just needed to breathe.

 

Izuku reached out with his mind, searching for that familiar, cold hum of moonlight. It was faint, buried under the roaring heat of the sun, like a single violin playing over a heavy metal concert. But it was there. He gripped that connection and pulled with everything he had.

 

A pale, silvery glow erupted from his right hand. The sludge surrounding his wrist hissed as the light solidified.

 

With a guttural yell, Izuku forced his Quirk outward. The hard-light construct materialized—not a grand sword or a massive shield, but a jagged, vibrating dagger of pure silver light, no longer than six inches. It hummed like a tuning fork, casting a stark, cold illumination against the tunnel walls.

 

Izuku drove the dagger upward, slashing wildly at the only solid part of the villain he could see: the large, bulbous eye.

 

SQUELCH!

 

"AGH! YOU LITTLE BRAT!" the villain roared in agony.

 

The eye ruptured, and the sludge recoiled violently, loosening its grip just enough for Izuku to rip his mouth free. He took a massive, gasping breath of air, coughing violently.

 

"You'll pay for that!" the villain screamed, the sludge rising like a tidal wave, preparing to crash down and crush Izuku completely. Izuku raised his silver dagger, ready to fight to the bitter end.

 

But the wave never fell.

 

With a sudden, metallic CLANG, the manhole cover at the entrance of the tunnel was blown off its hinges, flying through the air and embedding itself in the concrete ceiling.

 

A massive shadow filled the entrance.

 

"It is alright now, young man," a voice boomed, deep and resonant, echoing through the underpass with the force of a thunderclap.

 

Izuku's eyes widened. He knew that voice. Everyone in the world knew that voice.

 

The massive figure stepped forward, completely ignoring the slime villain. He wore a white t-shirt and cargo pants, but his sheer musculature made him look like a god descended to earth. Two golden tufts of hair stood up on his head like a crown.

 

"I AM HERE!" All Might shouted, flashing a blindingly white smile.

 

"All Might?!" the sludge villain shrieked, backing away in terror. He whipped a tendril of sludge toward the Number One Hero, desperate to strike first.

 

All Might didn't even flinch. He simply pulled his right arm back, his fist clenching so hard the air around it seemed to warp.

 

"TEXAS..." All Might stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath his boots. "...SMASH!"

 

He threw the punch. He didn't hit the villain. He didn't even make contact. The pure, unadulterated wind pressure generated by the strike hit the sludge villain like a freight train. The air pressure was so intense it created a localized tornado within the tunnel.

 

The villain was blown apart instantly, reduced to a splatter of rain hitting the walls. Izuku's silver dagger shattered into a dozen wisps of light as the wind knocked him off his feet.

 

As the wind died down, Izuku lay on the concrete, staring up at the towering figure of his idol. All Might was here. He had saved him.

 

Izuku tried to speak, tried to say thank you, but the adrenaline crash hit him like a physical blow. The world spun, the edges of his vision went black, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

"Hey! Wake up! Thought we lost you there!"

 

Izuku jolted awake, gasping for air. He was met with a light tapping on his cheek. He blinked, his vision clearing, to find All Might's massive face inches from his own.

 

"WAAAH!" Izuku screamed, scrambling backward until he hit the railing of the overpass.

 

"Excellent! You're awake!" All Might laughed loudly, hands on his hips. "Apologies for involving you in my villain hunt! I usually don't make mistakes like this, but I was fired up in a new city! I captured the villain safely!" He patted two large soda bottles hanging from his pockets, filled to the brim with angry green sludge.

 

"T-Thank you! A-All Might! I-I have to get an autograph!" Izuku patted his pockets frantically, finding his waterlogged notebook. He opened it, only to find that All Might had already signed a massive, sprawling signature across a two-page spread.

 

Izuku bowed repeatedly, his body vibrating with excitement. "THANK YOU SO MUCH! THIS WILL BE A FAMILY HEIRLOOM!"

 

"Well, I must be off!" All Might said, stretching his legs. "A hero's work is never done! I have to deliver this guy to the police."

 

"Wait!" Izuku cried out. "Already? But... I have... I have a question!"

 

"No time for questions! Stay safe out there!" All Might bent his knees, preparing to leap.

 

Izuku panicked. He couldn't let All Might leave. Not yet. He needed to know. He needed to hear it from the one person who mattered. Without thinking, as All Might launched himself into the air, Izuku lunged forward and grabbed onto the hero's leg.

 

The wind tore at Izuku's face, flapping his cheeks wildly as they rocketed thousands of feet into the sky.

 

"Hey! Hey! What are you doing?!" All Might yelled, looking down in shock. "Let go! Your fanaticism is too much!"

 

"If I let go now, I'll fall and die!" Izuku screamed, his eyes watering from the wind pressure.

 

"Good point!" All Might grunted. "Hold your breath and shut your eyes!"

 

A moment later, they crashed down onto the roof of a tall office building. Izuku collapsed onto the concrete, shaking uncontrollably, his heart hammering against his ribs.

 

"Good grief," All Might sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "If you knock on the door, the people downstairs will let you out. Now, I really must go."

 

"Wait!" Izuku scrambled to his feet. "Please! Just one question!"

 

All Might stopped, his back turned to Izuku.

 

Izuku clenched his fists, staring at the broad, invincible back of the Number One Hero. All the years of bullying, all the sneers, Katsuki's explosions, the terror of the sludge villain—it all bubbled up to the surface.

 

"Can someone with a conditional Quirk become a hero?" Izuku shouted, his voice cracking. "My Quirk... it's tied to the moon. Half the time, I'm strong. But during the day, or on a New Moon, I'm weak. Everyone tells me I'm useless. That a hero needs to be a constant, reliable pillar. That I'm just a part-timer who'll get himself killed."

 

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, tears finally falling down his cheeks. "Can someone who is only strong sometimes... ever hope to be someone like you?!"

 

Silence stretched across the rooftop. The wind howled softly.

 

Izuku slowly opened his eyes. He expected to see All Might smiling, giving him a thumbs-up, telling him that any Quirk can be heroic if the heart is right.

 

Instead, thick steam was pouring off All Might's body.

 

"All Might?" Izuku stepped forward, confused.

 

The steam cleared. The massive, muscular hero was gone. In his place stood an impossibly skeletal, emaciated man with sunken eyes and sharp, angular features. His clothes hung off his frame like a scarecrow.

 

Izuku shrieked, backing away. "W-Who are you?! What happened to All Might?! You're a fake! An impostor!"

 

"I assure you, I am All Might," the skeletal man sighed, blood suddenly dripping from his mouth. He wiped it away casually and slumped against the railing, lifting his oversized t-shirt.

 

Izuku gasped. The left side of All Might's chest was a twisted, mangled mess of deep, purple scar tissue, spiraling out from a massive crater. It looked like a bomb had gone off inside his ribs.

 

"Five years ago, a villain did this to me," All Might said, his voice hollow and raspy, devoid of its former booming glory. "My respiratory system was nearly destroyed, and my stomach was completely removed. I've had repeated surgeries, but the damage is permanent. Right now, I can only do hero work for about three hours a day. The rest of the time, I look like this."

 

Izuku stared in horror. The invincible hero, the Symbol of Peace, was broken.

 

"You asked if a hero can be unreliable," All Might said, his blue eyes locking onto Izuku's. "You asked if you can be a hero when your power abandons you half the time."

 

All Might sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "The smile I wear... it's to trick the fear inside me. Pro heroes are always risking their lives. Some villains just can't be beaten without a fight to the death. If my three hours run out while I'm fighting a villain, people die. If your power wanes while you're holding up a collapsing building, people die."

 

Izuku felt the ground drop out from beneath him.

 

"It's a noble dream," All Might continued softly, pulling his shirt down. "But a hero cannot afford to be a part-timer, young man. The world relies on us to be constants. If your Quirk abandons you when the sun rises, then you cannot be the pillar this society needs. It is too dangerous. For you, and for the people you want to save."

 

All Might walked past Izuku, heading for the rooftop door. "I cannot simply tell you that you can become a hero. It's good to dream, young man. But you have to be realistic. Consider becoming a police officer. They get mocked for having villains delivered to them, but it's a fine profession."

 

The door opened, and shut.

 

Izuku stood alone on the roof, the cold wind whipping through his hair.

 

He didn't cry. The tears were completely dried up. He just felt hollow. The Number One Hero, the man he idolized above all others, had just agreed with Katsuki. He had looked at Izuku's lunar calendar and told him it wasn't enough.

 

 

 

Izuku didn't remember walking down the stairs of the office building. He didn't remember walking out onto the street. He operated on autopilot, his mind a blank, white static.

 

Be realistic, All Might had said.

Take a swan dive, Katsuki had said.

 

Izuku stopped at a crosswalk, staring blankly at the red light. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting long, dramatic shadows across the pavement. It was nearing 5:30 PM. The Waxing Crescent moon was beginning to become faintly visible against the darkening eastern sky, a pale sliver of silver.

 

BOOM!

 

The ground shook. A massive explosion echoed from a few blocks away, followed by the sound of screaming and shattering glass. A plume of black smoke rose into the air.

 

Izuku's legs moved before his brain could process the command. He ran toward the smoke. It was a habit born of years of hero-chasing.

 

He arrived at a shopping district. A massive crowd had formed, kept back by a police barricade. Several pro heroes—Death Arms, Kamui Woods, Mt. Lady, and Backdraft—were on the scene.

 

But they weren't fighting. They were standing back, watching helplessly.

 

Izuku pushed his way to the front of the crowd, looking past the barricade. His breath hitched in his throat.

 

It was the sludge villain.

 

He had dropped the bottles. When Izuku had grabbed his leg, All Might had dropped the villain. It was his fault.

 

The sludge had grown massive, engulfing an entire alleyway. Fires were raging out of control, fueled by continuous, violent explosions coming from within the sludge itself.

 

Izuku squinted through the smoke. In the center of the dark, swirling mass, he saw a face. Blond hair. Red eyes.

 

Katsuki.

 

The villain had taken Katsuki hostage. Katsuki was suffocating, firing off explosions in a blind panic to get free, but his Quirk was only feeding the fires and keeping the heroes at bay.

 

"We can't get near him!" Death Arms shouted, shielding his face from the heat. "The kid's explosions are too erratic! And I don't have a good grip to pull him out!"

 

"My wood will catch fire!" Kamui Woods gritted his teeth.

 

"I need at least a two-lane road to get big!" Mt. Lady groaned, trapped in the narrow street.

 

Izuku stared in horror. They weren't doing anything. The heroes were just waiting for someone with a better Quirk to show up. But Katsuki didn't have time. His face was turning purple. The sludge was forcing its way into his nose and mouth, just like it had to Izuku.

 

Katsuki's eyes met Izuku's through the crowd.

 

They weren't angry. They weren't arrogant. They were terrified. They were begging for help.

 

Izuku's mind went entirely blank.

 

Before Death Arms could stop him, Izuku vaulted over the police barricade and sprinted full speed toward the raging inferno.

 

"Hey! Kid! Stop! You'll get yourself killed!"

 

Izuku didn't hear them. He didn't hear the crowd gasping. He only heard the roaring of the flames and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

 

What am I doing?! his mind finally screamed as the heat blasted against his skin. I can't fight him! It's still daytime! My power is only at 20%! I don't have enough moonlight to make a blade big enough to cut him!

 

The villain saw him coming and laughed, a sickening, bubbling sound. "You again?! The little brat who stabbed me! I'm gonna crush you!"

 

A massive tendril of sludge whipped toward Izuku like a battering ram.

 

Izuku didn't stop running. His hyper-analytical mind, honed by years of surviving Katsuki's bullying and tracking the sky, kicked into overdrive.

 

I can't overpower him. I need a distraction.

 

Izuku unslung his heavy yellow backpack, gripping it by the strap. He spun on his heel, using his momentum to hurl the backpack directly at the villain's face.

 

The heavy bag flew true, the metal zipper and thick textbooks inside smashing directly into the villain's uninjured right eye.

 

"AGH! MY EYE! AGAIN?!" the villain shrieked, the tendril missing Izuku by inches and smashing into a brick wall.

 

The sludge around Katsuki's face loosened just a fraction. Katsuki gasped for air, coughing violently. "D-Deku?! What the hell are you doing?!"

 

Izuku didn't answer. He dove into the sludge, sinking his hands into the thick, foul-smelling muck, desperately trying to claw Katsuki free. It was useless. The slime was like liquid concrete.

 

"Why are you here?!" Katsuki screamed, confused and furious.

 

Izuku looked at him, tears streaming down his soot-stained face. He didn't know why. He had no plan. He had no power. He just knew he couldn't watch someone die.

 

"I couldn't just stand there and watch you die!" Izuku screamed back, his voice tearing from his throat. "You looked like you needed saving!"

 

From the crowd, a skeletal man watched in stunned silence. All Might gripped his chest, feeling the phantom pain of his wound. He had scolded this boy. He had told him to give up because he wasn't strong enough. Yet here was a boy with a conditional Quirk, practically powerless in the daylight, rushing into the fires of hell while the pros stood by and made excuses.

 

Pathetic, All Might thought, gritting his teeth as steam began to roll off his skin. I am pathetic. He is right. A hero is someone who moves before they think!

 

The villain recovered, his one good eye glaring at Izuku with murderous intent. "I'M DONE PLAYING WITH YOU! DIE!"

 

A massive wave of sludge rose high into the air, casting a shadow over Izuku and Katsuki. Izuku raised his arms, instinctively trying to summon a hard-light shield, but the ambient moonlight wasn't enough. Only a faint, silver glimmer flickered across his forearms. It wouldn't hold.

 

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.

 

BOOOM!

 

A massive hand gripped Izuku's wrist. Another hand grabbed Katsuki's collar.

 

Izuku opened his eyes. The wave of sludge had stopped inches from his face, held back by a muscular, blood-stained arm.

 

"I really am pathetic," All Might growled, blood spilling from his mouth, his golden hair whipping in the heat of the fire.

 

"All... Might?" Izuku gasped.

 

"I told you the traits that make a great champion," All Might said, his voice straining as he forced his broken body past its limits. "But I didn't live up to my own ideals! PROS ARE ALWAYS RISKING THEIR LIVES!"

 

All Might ripped Izuku and Katsuki free from the sludge, throwing them behind him. He planted his feet, grabbed the villain by its thickest mass of slime, and pulled his fist back.

 

"DETROIT..."

 

The air pressure dropped instantly. The flames around the alleyway flickered and died, starved of oxygen as all the air was sucked toward All Might's fist.

 

"...SMASH!"

 

The punch connected.

 

The shockwave was catastrophic. The villain wasn't just blown apart; the sheer kinetic force of the punch traveled straight up into the atmosphere. The pressure wave cleared the smoke, cleared the fire, and slammed into the clouds above the city.

 

A moment later, a drop of water hit Izuku's cheek. Then another.

 

He looked up. The sky had darkened, and rain was falling from a sudden, localized storm created by the updraft of All Might's punch. He had changed the weather.

 

As the rain washed away the soot and the smell of burning rubber, the villain was reduced to scattered puddles of unconscious slime. All Might stood panting, his fist still raised to the sky.

 

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers.

 

 

 

The aftermath was a blur.

 

The heroes quickly gathered the scattered sludge villain into secure containers. The paramedics checked on Katsuki, who was sitting on the back of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the ground.

 

Izuku, on the other hand, was currently being chewed out by Death Arms and Kamui Woods.

 

"What were you thinking, kid?!" Death Arms yelled, pointing a finger in Izuku's face. "That was incredibly reckless! You don't have a combat Quirk suited for this situation! You could have gotten yourself and the hostage killed!"

 

"There is a fine line between bravery and suicide," Kamui Woods added sternly. "Leave it to the professionals next time. Do you understand?"

 

"Y-Yes, sir," Izuku muttered, looking down at his shoes. He felt a deep, crushing exhaustion settling into his bones. The adrenaline was gone, leaving only the reality of his failure. He had rushed in, but he hadn't done anything. All Might had to save him. Again.

 

Meanwhile, Mt. Lady was praising Katsuki. "Wow, you have a really strong Quirk, kid! Once you learn some control, you'll make an amazing pro hero!"

 

Katsuki didn't say a word. He just glared at the concrete.

 

Once the police finished taking his statement, Izuku was allowed to leave. The sun had finally set completely. The city streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows.

 

Izuku walked home slowly, his head hung low.

 

I guess this is it, he thought. I tried my best. I wanted to be a hero so badly. But All Might was right. I'm too inconsistent. I can't protect anyone. It's time to let the dream die.

 

"DEKU!"

 

Izuku flinched, turning around. Katsuki was jogging down the street toward him, panting heavily. He stopped a few feet away, his fists clenched, his red eyes blazing.

 

"Listen to me, you defective Part-Timer!" Katsuki yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Izuku's chest. "I didn't ask for your help! And you didn't save me! Got it?! I was doing just fine on my own! I don't owe you a damn thing! Don't you ever look down on me again!"

 

Katsuki spun on his heel and stomped away, his shoulders tense.

 

Izuku watched him go, a small, sad smile on his face. Classic Kacchan. At least he's okay.

 

Izuku turned back around to continue his walk.

 

"I AM HERE!"

 

All Might suddenly launched out of an alleyway, striking a dynamic pose in the middle of the empty street.

 

Izuku yelped, stumbling backward. "All Might?! What are you doing here?! I thought you were surrounded by reporters!"

 

All Might laughed heartily. "Shaking them off was a breeze! Why? Because I am All M—AGH!"

 

In a cloud of steam, the muscular hero vanished, replaced by the coughing, skeletal man. Izuku cringed as All Might hacked up a small amount of blood.

 

"Are you okay?!" Izuku asked, rushing forward.

 

"I'm fine," All Might wiped his mouth, standing up straight. The playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a deep, solemn gravity. He looked at Izuku, his sunken blue eyes piercing through the darkness.

 

"Young man. I came to thank you. And to apologize."

 

Izuku blinked, stunned. "Apologize? But... you saved me. You saved Kacchan."

 

"If you hadn't been there... if you hadn't told me about your life, and then showed me what true heroism looked like... I would have been a worthless bystander," All Might said softly. "You told me you were weak during the day. You told me your Quirk couldn't save anyone in that state. Yet, out of everyone in that crowd, including the pros, you were the only one who moved."

 

All Might took a step forward.

 

"Top heroes have stories about them from their school days," All Might said, his voice echoing in the quiet street. "Most of their stories have one thing in common: their bodies moved before they had a chance to think."

 

Izuku's breath hitched. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

 

"That was true for you today, wasn't it?" All Might asked.

 

Izuku fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as the tears finally spilled over. He sobbed, the sound echoing in the night air. All the years of being told he was a freak, a part-timer, a defective battery. All the years of desperately looking at the sky, praying the moon would grant him the strength he needed to be normal.

 

"You can become a hero," All Might said, the words falling over Izuku like a warm blanket.

 

Izuku cried harder. It was the only thing he had ever wanted to hear.

 

All Might knelt down, placing a large, bony hand on Izuku's shaking shoulder.

 

"I told you earlier that a hero cannot be unreliable," All Might said softly. "I told you that your Quirk, because it fluctuates, makes you a liability. I was wrong. A Quirk does not make a hero reliable. The heart does."

 

Izuku wiped his eyes, looking up at the skeletal man.

 

"You have a power tied to the moon," All Might said, looking up at the sky. The Waxing Crescent was shining brightly now, unhindered by the sun. It cast a pale, silver glow over the street. "It changes. It wanes. It is unpredictable. If you rely solely on your Quirk, you will fail."

 

All Might looked back at Izuku, his eyes blazing with an intense, unyielding fire.

 

"I cannot give you a new Quirk, young man. I cannot change the way you were born," All Might said. "But I can teach you how to fight when your power abandons you. I can teach you how to analyze your enemies, how to use martial arts, how to turn your mind into a weapon that never wanes."

 

All Might stood up, offering his hand to Izuku.

 

"I want to personally train you, Izuku Midoriya. I want to teach you how to be a hero not just in the dark, but in the light of day. I want to show the world that even a shifting tide can carve through stone. Will you accept my offer?"

 

Izuku looked at the hand extended toward him. He felt the cold, familiar hum of the Crescent moon in his veins. But for the first time in his life, he didn't care about the phase. He didn't care about the percentage of his power.

 

He reached up and grabbed All Might's hand, his grip tight and resolute.

 

"Yes," Izuku said, his voice steady. "I will."

 

Above them, the silver sliver of the moon shone like a drawn blade against the night sky, watching as the boy who had spent his whole life looking up finally prepared to rise.

 

The smell of Dagobah Municipal Beach Park was something that defied simple description. It was a potent, gag-inducing cocktail of rotting kelp, oxidized iron, stagnant seawater, and decades of forgotten garbage baking under the sun.

 

"Wow," Izuku muttered, pulling his middle school uniform jacket up over his nose. "I knew people dumped trash here, but this... this is a mountain range."

 

Standing beside him, looking entirely out of place amidst the rusted refrigerators and blown-out tires, was Toshinori Yagi—the skeletal form of the Number One Hero, All Might. The ocean breeze whipped through his overly large white t-shirt, making him look even more fragile.

 

"Sad, isn't it?" All Might sighed, looking out over the sea of refuse. "Decades ago, this was a beautiful stretch of sand. But ocean currents bring in illegal dumping, and people take advantage of the mess to hide their own broken appliances. It's the Broken Window Theory in action. Society looks at a mess and decides it's okay to make it worse."

 

All Might turned to Izuku, his sunken blue eyes piercing. "Pro heroes today are so focused on fighting flashy villains that they ignore the foundation of heroism: public service. Cleaning up the community. Helping the common man. If you want to be a hero, Izuku Midoriya, you must build your foundation here."

 

Izuku looked at the mountains of trash. Some of the piles were three stories high. "You want me to clean the whole beach?"

 

"I want you to restore the horizon," All Might corrected, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to Izuku. "This is the 'Aim to Pass: American Dream Plan'. It's a grueling, ten-month training schedule designed specifically for you."

 

Izuku unfolded the paper. It was incredibly detailed, accounting for his diet, sleep schedule, and school hours. But what caught his eye were the margins. They were filled with lunar cycle charts, weather patterns, and tidal shifts.

 

"Your Quirk, 'Lunar Cycle', is an incredible tool, but it is deeply unreliable," All Might explained, stepping up onto a half-buried washing machine. "If you rely on it blindly, you will fail. Therefore, this training camp has two purposes. First, you will build a baseline of pure, unadulterated physical strength and martial arts proficiency. When your Quirk abandons you, your fists and your mind will not."

 

All Might coughed into his fist before pointing dramatically toward the ocean. "Second! We are going to master the phases! Every week, your body changes. You need to learn how to move, how to fight, and how to lift heavy objects in all four phases of your Quirk! You will move this trash using the specific abilities the moon grants you, and when the moon is hidden, you will use raw muscle!"

 

Izuku looked down at his scrawny arms, then up at the daunting mountain of scrap metal. He felt the familiar, faint pull of the moon in his chest. Today was a Waning Crescent. His body felt light, a slight hum of silver energy resting just beneath his skin.

 

He clenched his fists, determination burning in his green eyes.

 

"Right," Izuku nodded. "Let's get to work."

 

 

 

The first month was unadulterated agony.

 

Izuku quickly learned that tracking the moon was no longer just a hobby; it was a matter of survival. He began carrying a heavy, leather-bound journal everywhere he went, filling it with meticulous notes. He didn't just track the phases anymore; he tracked the meteorology.

 

August 14th. Phase: New Moon (0% Illumination). Weather: Overcast.

 

The New Moon was Izuku's darkest time, both literally and figuratively. Without ambient moonlight to act as a catalyst, his physical strength dropped to below that of an average teenager. The New Moon granted him the ability to manipulate shadows and dampen sound—excellent for stealth, but completely useless for lifting a rusted Ford pickup truck out of the sand.

 

"Push with your legs, young Midoriya! Leverage is the key to martial arts and heavy lifting!" All Might barked, sitting comfortably atop a stack of tires.

 

Izuku gritted his teeth, his muscles burning as he strained against the back bumper of the truck. Sweat poured down his face. The sun was beating down on him. There was no magic silver aura to save him today. There was no gravity manipulation. It was just bone, muscle, and willpower.

 

"I... can't..." Izuku gasped, his knees buckling.

 

"In a real fight, a villain won't care if the moon is dark!" All Might shouted, though not unkindly. "If a building is collapsing on civilians during a New Moon, will you tell them to wait a week?! Push!"

 

Izuku screamed, digging his worn sneakers into the sand, and shoved. The truck groaned, its rusted tires rolling forward exactly one inch. Izuku collapsed into the sand, wheezing violently.

 

All Might hopped down, offering him a water bottle. "Good. That was an inch further than yesterday. In the darkness, you must be your own light."

 

August 21st. Phase: First Quarter / Half Moon (50% Illumination). Weather: Clear skies.

 

The transition to the Half Moon phase was always jarring. When the moon was cut exactly in half by the Earth's shadow, Izuku's biology shifted. The hum in his blood turned into a deep, rhythmic thrumming, like the crashing of ocean tides. This was his Gravity phase.

 

"Alright, Midoriya! The Half Moon is in the sky!" All Might called out. "Show me control!"

 

Izuku stood before a massive, iron safe half-buried in the sand. He reached out, placing his bare hands against the rusted metal. He closed his eyes, feeling the ambient moonlight filtering down through the atmosphere. He visualized the mass of the safe, feeling its tether to the earth.

 

Shift the tide, Izuku thought.

 

His hands glowed with a faint, deep purple aura. He exerted his will, pulling the gravity away from the safe.

 

With a sickening schluuuuck sound, the two-ton iron safe popped out of the sand as if it weighed no more than a cardboard box. Izuku lifted it over his head with incredible ease.

 

"Amazing!" All Might cheered. "Now, throw it to the scrap pile!"

 

Izuku grinned, feeling invincible. He hurled the safe. As it flew through the air, Izuku severed his Quirk's connection to it. Gravity reasserted itself instantly. The two-ton safe crashed into a pile of washing machines with a deafening CRUNCH, flattening them.

 

"Woohoo!" Izuku cheered.

 

Suddenly, a wave of intense nausea hit him. The world spun sideways. His vision doubled, and a sharp, stabbing pain spiked right behind his eyes. Izuku dropped to his hands and knees, emptying the contents of his stomach into the sand. Blood dripped from his left nostril.

 

All Might rushed over, kneeling beside him. "Easy, easy. Breathe, my boy."

 

"M-My head..." Izuku groaned, clutching his temples. "It feels like... like my brain is being squeezed."

 

"Gravity manipulation is incredibly taxing on the user's equilibrium," All Might explained gently, wiping the blood from Izuku's nose with a handkerchief. "You are altering the fundamental forces of physics. Your inner ear, your blood pressure, your spinal fluid—they all react to the sudden shifts in mass. If you increase an object's gravity too much, the backlash could rupture the blood vessels in your brain."

 

Izuku spat the taste of bile out of his mouth. "So... I have a limit."

 

"Everything has a limit," All Might said. "You must learn exactly how much mass you can alter before your body gives out. Precision, Izuku. Not just power."

 

September 5th. Phase: Full Moon (100% Illumination). Weather: Clear skies.

 

Izuku hated the Full Moon.

 

It was 10:00 PM. The beach was bathed in a blinding, silvery glow. The moon hung in the sky like a giant, glaring eye.

 

Izuku stood in the center of the beach, his head thrown back, screaming. A brilliant, ethereal silver light poured from his skin, illuminating the area around him like a flare. His green hair floated wildly in the air, defying gravity. His muscles bulged, thrumming with an overwhelming, terrifying amount of power.

 

But it wasn't just physical strength. It was a chemical overload in his brain. The unadulterated moonlight acted like a heavy dose of adrenaline and cortisol mixed together. He felt feral. He felt angry. Every heartbeat sounded like a war drum.

 

"MIDORIYA! FOCUS!" All Might yelled from a safe distance, holding a stopwatch.

 

"RAAAAGH!"

 

Izuku lunged forward, moving faster than the eye could track. He slammed his fists into a rusted city bus. The sheer kinetic force of his strike crumpled the reinforced steel like wet tissue paper. He grabbed the bumper, his silver aura flaring violently, and ripped the entire front half of the bus off with his bare hands. He threw it over his shoulder, sending it crashing into the ocean fifty yards away.

 

He was breathing heavily, his eyes glowing a solid, pupil-less silver. He looked toward All Might, his teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.

 

"Izuku. Look at me." All Might commanded, his voice dropping its cheerful facade, adopting the commanding tone of the Number One Hero.

 

Izuku growled, taking a step toward his mentor. His higher reasoning was slipping. The moon was telling him to break, to smash, to conquer.

 

"Ten seconds," All Might said, standing perfectly still. "Breathe. Remember who you are. You are not a beast. You are a hero."

 

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his own hair. He forced himself to think of his mother's smile. He forced himself to think of U.A. High School. He forced himself to remember the pathetic feeling of being weak under the New Moon.

 

I control it, Izuku thought, his mental voice cutting through the feral static in his mind. It does not control me.

 

Slowly, the silver aura dimmed. Izuku dropped to his knees, panting heavily. The glow in his eyes faded back to normal green. The overwhelming rage evaporated, leaving him feeling cold, hollow, and deeply ashamed.

 

All Might walked over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Two minutes and forty seconds. That's thirty seconds longer than last month before you lost control."

 

"It's too dangerous," Izuku whispered, staring at his trembling hands. "If I go feral during the entrance exam, I could kill another student. I can't think straight. It's like someone else is at the wheel."

 

"Then we keep working," All Might said firmly. "You cannot fear your own power, Izuku. The Full Moon is your ultimate weapon. But a sword with no hilt will only cut the one who wields it. You must forge the hilt. Meditation. Discipline. We will conquer the wolf inside you."

 

October 19th. Phase: Waning Crescent (20% Illumination). Weather: Light Rain.

 

The Crescent phase was where Izuku felt the most elegant.

 

It was raining heavily. The beach was slick with mud. Izuku stood in a fighting stance, wearing a ratty tank top, rain pouring down his face.

 

The Crescent phase drastically increased his agility and allowed him to manifest solid constructs of hard light. Because of the rain blocking the ambient moonlight, his output was reduced, but he had learned to compress what little light he had to increase its density.

 

"Again!" All Might shouted, tossing a rusted toaster high into the air.

 

Izuku moved. He didn't just run; he glided. His footwork, drilled into him by All Might over the last few months, was immaculate. He pushed off the sand, spinning in the air.

 

He focused the moonlight into his forearms. Two shimmering, razor-sharp blades of silver light extended from his elbows, past his fists, resembling long, glowing tonfas.

 

Crescent Style: Silver Swallow!

 

Izuku slashed outward in an X-motion. The hard-light blades cleanly sliced through the metal toaster mid-air, splitting it into four perfectly even pieces before it hit the ground.

 

Izuku landed gracefully, the silver blades dissipating into a mist of light.

 

"Excellent precision!" All Might clapped. "Your construct generation is becoming faster. But remember, the hard-light is brittle! If a villain with an enhancement Quirk strikes your blades directly, they will shatter!"

 

"Right!" Izuku nodded, opening his soaked journal. He jotted down a quick note. Hard light density scales with ambient absorption. In heavy rain, avoid blocking heavy attacks. Use agility to dodge and strike weak points.

 

 

 

The months bled together. Autumn turned to a bitter, freezing winter.

 

Izuku's life became an unending cycle of school, beach clean-up, martial arts sparring with All Might, and furious studying. He analyzed pro heroes constantly, but now, he also analyzed his environment.

 

He knew that the smog over the industrial district reduced his ambient light intake by 12%. He knew that a clear winter night, with no humidity in the air, increased his power by 8%. He knew the exact hour of moonrise and moonset every single day.

 

Slowly, imperceptibly, Izuku Midoriya changed.

 

The scrawny, trembling boy who had nearly been suffocated by a sludge villain was gone. The constant heavy lifting and martial arts training under All Might had packed dense, functional muscle onto his frame. His posture straightened. His shoulders broadened.

 

And his eyes changed. They no longer held the frantic, desperate hope of a child begging for a miracle. They held the calm, calculating determination of an astronomer who knew exactly how the universe operated.

 

At school, Katsuki Bakugo noticed the change. He hated it.

 

Izuku no longer flinched when Katsuki yelled. He no longer shrank away from explosions. One day, when Katsuki had slammed his hand on Izuku's desk, threatening him, Izuku had merely looked up, checked his lunar watch, noted it was a Half Moon, and calmly asked Katsuki to move his hand before he made it heavy enough to break his wrist. Katsuki had backed off, unnerved by the cold confidence in Izuku's voice.

 

Finally, the morning of February 26th arrived.

 

Izuku stood at the edge of the seawall, looking out at Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the water.

 

There was no trash. Not a single tire, not a single piece of rusted metal. The pristine white sand stretched out for miles, met only by the gentle crashing of the waves.

 

Izuku dropped his heavy backpack onto the concrete. He took a deep breath of the salty air.

 

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

 

He screamed at the ocean, pouring ten months of pain, exhaustion, fear, and triumph out into the morning air. It was a scream of victory.

 

All Might stood behind him in his skeletal form, wearing a heavy winter coat, a proud smile on his face.

 

"You did it, young Midoriya," All Might said softly. "You didn't just complete the plan. You exceeded it. You cleared the entire beach, and you mastered your foundation."

 

Izuku turned around, tears pricking his eyes. He bowed deeply, his forehead nearly touching his knees. "Thank you! Thank you for everything, All Might!"

 

"Hold your tears, boy. The real test is today," All Might said, holding up a finger. "Tell me. What is the reading?"

 

Izuku immediately wiped his eyes and straightened up, his mind snapping into analytical mode. He checked his watch, though he didn't really need to. He could feel it in his blood.

 

"Date: February 26th," Izuku recited. "Phase: Waning Half Moon. Illumination: 53%. The moon is currently in the sky, but the sun is rising, which means massive solar interference. Cloud cover is minimal, roughly 10% cirrus clouds. Estimated power output during the exam: 35% of my maximum Half-Moon capacity."

 

"And your ability today?" All Might pressed.

 

"Gravity manipulation and tidal mass shifting," Izuku answered firmly. "At 35% efficiency, I can alter the gravity of objects up to approximately three tons before risking a cerebral hemorrhage. I can reduce my own gravity to increase my jump height and fall speed."

 

"Perfect," All Might smiled. "You know your limits. You know your strengths. Now, go out there and show U.A. High School what a shifting tide can do."

 

 

 

Standing in front of the massive, towering H-shaped gates of U.A. High School, Izuku felt a sudden wave of nerves wash over him.

 

He was actually here. The premier hero academy in Japan. The alma mater of All Might himself.

 

Izuku took a step forward, his foot catching the edge of a poorly laid paving stone. He pitched forward, his arms flailing wildly. Of course, he thought, panic seizing him. Ten months of martial arts training, and I'm going to faceplant before I even get inside!

 

He instinctively tried to activate his Quirk, to lessen his own gravity, but before he could, he stopped mid-air. He was floating.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Izuku carefully reoriented himself, his feet touching the ground. He turned to see a girl with short, bobbed brown hair and large, warm brown eyes. She was wearing a slightly oversized winter coat and had her hands pressed together.

 

"I used my Quirk on you, sorry!" the girl smiled brightly. "It's my Quirk, Zero Gravity! I figured it would be bad luck if you tripped right before the exam!"

 

Izuku's eyes widened. "Zero Gravity? Wow! That's... that's amazing! My Quirk is linked to the moon, and right now we're in a Waning Half phase, which gives me gravity manipulation too! It's like we're perfectly synced today!"

 

The girl blinked, looking slightly overwhelmed by his sudden burst of nerdy enthusiasm, but she laughed, a sweet, bubbling sound. "Linked to the moon? That sounds super romantic! I'm Ochaco Uraraka. Good luck today!"

 

She waved and hurried inside. Izuku stood there, his face burning red. I talked to a girl! And she didn't call me a part-timer!

 

The written exam went smoothly. Izuku had spent months studying astrophysics, mechanical engineering (to understand how to break things optimally with gravity), and hero law. He breezed through the test.

 

Then came the orientation for the practical exam.

 

Izuku sat in the massive auditorium, wedged between Katsuki Bakugo and another student. Down on the stage, the Voice Hero, Present Mic, was explaining the rules with obnoxiously loud enthusiasm.

 

"As it says in the application requirements, you listeners will be conducting a ten-minute mock urban battle!" Present Mic shouted, posing dramatically. "You'll be dropped into one of several mock city centers. There are three types of villain bots worth one, two, and three points respectively! Use your Quirks to rack up points!"

 

Izuku muttered under his breath, frantically writing in his notebook. "Three types of bots... varying points. That implies varying armor thickness and speed. If I use gravity to crush a three-pointer, I'll need to exert at least..."

 

"Shut up, Deku," Katsuki hissed, glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. "Your muttering is giving me a headache. I don't care how much you've been working out. A weakling who has to check the weather before a fight doesn't belong here."

 

Izuku stopped writing. He didn't flinch. He just calmly closed his notebook and looked Katsuki dead in the eye.

 

"The weather is clear, Kacchan. And my gravity is heavy today. You should worry about your own score."

 

Katsuki's eye twitched in fury, but before he could explode, another student—a tall, stern-looking boy with glasses and engines in his calves—stood up and loudly interrupted Present Mic to ask about a fourth type of robot listed on the handout.

 

"Great question, listener!" Present Mic pointed at the screen, showing a massive, hulking silhouette. "That's the Zero Pointer! It's an obstacle! A massive gimmick that rampages around the arena! I recommend you run away from it!"

 

An obstacle, Izuku thought. No points. Just a pure hazard to test evasion and situational awareness under pressure. Understood.

 

 

 

Battle Center B was the size of a small metropolitan city.

 

Izuku stood in the middle of a massive crowd of nervous teenagers, stretching his legs. He saw Uraraka a few yards away, looking incredibly nauseous. He wanted to go over and wish her luck, but the engine-legs boy from the auditorium suddenly stepped in his way, accusing him of trying to distract her.

 

Izuku just sighed, checking his watch one last time.

 

Phase: Waning Half. Output: 35%. Let's go.

 

"START!"

 

Present Mic's voice echoed from a massive speaker tower. "What's the matter?! There are no countdowns in real fights! Run, run, run!"

 

The crowd panicked and began to stampede forward. Izuku didn't run. Running was inefficient.

 

He closed his eyes, tapping into the cold, rhythmic thrumming of the Half Moon in his chest. He felt the tidal forces of the earth, the invisible strings of gravity pulling everything down. He reached out and plucked his own string.

 

Lunar Shift: Ebb Tide!

 

A faint, purple aura flared around Izuku's body. He drastically reduced his own mass, making himself lighter than a feather. He bent his knees and pushed off the concrete.

 

With a resounding crack, the ground beneath his feet shattered, and Izuku launched himself fifty feet into the air, flying straight over the heads of the panicking crowd and directly over the massive gates.

 

"Whoa! Look at that guy!" someone shouted below.

 

Izuku soared through the air, getting a perfect aerial view of the mock city. He spotted a cluster of mechanical targets down a main street. Two one-pointers and a three-pointer.

 

He adjusted his trajectory mid-air, positioning himself directly above the three-pointer. As gravity began to reclaim him, Izuku shifted his Quirk.

 

Lunar Shift: Flood Tide!

 

He canceled his zero-gravity state and immediately multiplied his own mass by five. His purple aura flared violently. He dropped out of the sky like a meteor, reeling his fist back.

 

He didn't just punch the robot. He focused an intense localized gravity well into his knuckles just before impact.

 

SMASH!

 

Izuku's fist struck the three-pointer's head. The gravitational force was devastating. The robot didn't just break; it completely imploded. The reinforced steel buckled inward, crushing its own internal circuitry into a dense ball of scrap metal.

 

Izuku landed gracefully on the ruined chassis, breathing heavily. He immediately released the gravity well.

 

"Three points," Izuku muttered, grinning.

 

He didn't stop. He couldn't afford to. He sprinted down the street, his muscles propelling him at incredible speeds thanks to his months of training with All Might.

 

A two-pointer burst out of an alleyway, swinging a massive metallic pincer at his head. Izuku ducked under the swing, pivoting on his heel. He pressed his palm flat against the robot's central chassis.

 

He poured his Half-Moon energy into the machine, visualizing its mass multiplying exponentially.

 

The robot froze. Its mechanical joints shrieked in protest. Then, with a horrific groan of tearing metal, the robot's legs gave out, snapping under the sudden, immense weight of its own body. It collapsed onto the pavement, completely immobilized, crushing itself against the concrete.

 

"Five points," Izuku coughed. A sharp spike of pain hit his temples. He was at 35% efficiency because of the daylight. Using gravity on heavy objects was taxing. He wiped his nose; a small drop of blood had formed. I have to pace myself. Use martial arts for the weak ones, save the Quirk for the big ones.

 

For the next eight minutes, Izuku was a blur of efficiency. He used his martial arts to disarm or disable the one-pointers, ripping their wiring out with his bare hands. When a three-pointer appeared, he used his Ebb Tide to launch himself off walls, striking them with heavy, gravity-enhanced kicks.

 

Up in the observation room, the U.A. teachers were watching the monitors with great interest.

 

"This year's crop looks promising," the heroine Midnight purred, watching Katsuki Bakugo blow up a horde of robots. "That explosion boy has incredible raw power."

 

"There's a lot of interesting utility too," the principal, a small white animal named Nezu, observed. He tapped a monitor showing Izuku. "Look at this one. Izuku Midoriya. Quirk registry says 'Lunar Cycle'. It appears to be granting him localized gravitokinesis today. He's destroying the robots by manipulating their mass. Highly strategic."

 

"He's smart," a dark-haired, tired-looking man named Aizawa noted. "He knows his limit. He's only using his Quirk for finishing blows on heavy targets. He's relying on physical agility for the rest. But... does he have the instinct to survive a real threat?"

 

Nezu smiled, his paw hovering over a large red button. "Let's find out. Time to deploy the hazard."

 

 

 

Izuku was panting heavily, leaning against a brick wall. His head throbbed. He had fifty-four points. It was a solid score, but he didn't know if it was enough. The street was littered with the crushed and imploded remains of villain bots.

 

Suddenly, the ground began to shake.

 

It wasn't a localized tremor. The entire mock city vibrated. The windows of the surrounding buildings shattered simultaneously.

 

"What... what is that?" another examinee yelled, pointing down the main avenue.

 

Izuku looked up and felt the blood drain from his face.

 

Rising from behind the buildings, dwarfing the skyscrapers of the mock city, was a mechanical monstrosity. It was easily a hundred feet tall, rolling on massive, tank-like treads. Its single, glowing red eye swept over the street.

 

The Zero Pointer.

 

With a casual swing of its massive arm, it sheared the top half off a building. Debris rained down on the street like a meteor shower.

 

"Run!" someone screamed. "It's the Zero Pointer! Time's almost up! Just run!"

 

The examinees broke into a dead sprint, fleeing in the opposite direction. Izuku's instincts screamed at him to follow them. This was an obstacle. There were no points to be gained here. Engaging it was strategically foolish and physically suicidal. At his current 35% output, trying to manipulate the gravity of a machine that large would instantly liquify his brain.

 

Izuku turned to run.

 

"Ow... my ankle..."

 

The voice was faint, barely audible over the roaring engines of the Zero Pointer. Izuku stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around.

 

Through the dust and smoke, he saw her. Ochaco Uraraka. The girl who had stopped him from falling. Her leg was pinned beneath a massive slab of concrete rubble that had fallen from the building. She was desperately trying to push it off, but she was exhausted, and her Quirk couldn't make the rubble light enough to move.

 

The Zero Pointer's massive tread was rolling directly toward her. It was going to crush her.

 

Izuku didn't think.

 

A hero is someone whose body moves before they have a chance to think. All Might's words echoed in his mind.

 

Izuku didn't look at his watch. He didn't care about the phase. He didn't care about the solar interference. He cared about the girl who was about to die.

 

Izuku dug his sneakers into the pavement and sprinted straight toward the Zero Pointer.

 

"What is he doing?!" the glasses boy yelled from a safe distance. "He'll be killed!"

 

Izuku ran faster than he ever had in his life. He pushed his Quirk to its absolute, agonizing limits. He dropped his own mass to practically nothing, becoming as light as air.

 

He didn't just jump. He created a highly condensed, volatile sphere of reversed gravity directly beneath his feet. It was essentially a gravitational explosion.

 

Lunar Shift: Catapult!

 

The concrete beneath Izuku exploded into dust. The sheer repulsive force launched Izuku into the air like a surface-to-air missile. The G-force was so intense his vision instantly went entirely red as blood vessels in his eyes ruptured.

 

He rocketed up the front chassis of the Zero Pointer, soaring higher and higher until he was face-to-face with the massive, glowing red eye.

 

I can't lift it. I can't crush it, Izuku thought, his brain screaming in agony as migraines tore through his skull. It's too big. But I don't need to crush the whole thing. I just need to make it fall backward.

 

Izuku canceled his zero-gravity state. He was suspended in mid-air, perfectly aligned with the robot's face.

 

He pulled every single ounce of Half-Moon energy from his cells. The faint, deep purple aura surrounding his body didn't flare outward; instead, it condensed, violently sucking inward until it coated his right arm in a thick, vibrating sheen of pure gravitational force.

 

He was essentially wrapping his arm in a miniature black hole.

 

"SMAAAAAAAAAASH!"

 

Izuku drove his fist directly into the center of the Zero Pointer's faceplate.

 

The impact was deafening. It wasn't the sound of an explosion; it was the horrifying sound of physics breaking. The localized gravity well violently tore the armor plating inward, shredding the internal engine block.

 

But more importantly, the sheer kinetic and gravitational force transferred entirely into the upper half of the robot. The Zero Pointer's head was suddenly subjected to the weight of a battleship.

 

The massive robot's spine buckled. The machine let out a mechanical screech that sounded almost like a wail before it toppled backward, crashing to the ground with an earthquake-inducing thud, far away from Uraraka.

 

Silence fell over the arena, save for the sound of falling debris.

 

High above the ground, Izuku's momentum died. He hung in the air for a fraction of a second.

 

I did it, he thought, a massive, bloody grin spreading across his face.

 

Then, gravity reasserted itself.

 

Izuku began to fall. It was a long, deadly drop. He tried to reach out, tried to activate his Ebb Tide to lighten his body and float to the ground.

 

Nothing happened.

 

The cold hum of the moon in his blood was gone. His Quirk was completely, utterly exhausted. He had burned through his entire solar battery in one devastating strike.

 

Oh, Izuku thought, the wind rushing past his ears. I'm going to die.

 

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.

 

Slap!

 

Something soft hit him hard across the face. Suddenly, the terrifying sensation of falling vanished. Izuku opened his bloodshot eyes.

 

He was floating horizontally, a few feet off the ground. Uraraka, limping and bleeding from her forehead, had managed to crawl forward and slap his cheek just before he hit the pavement, activating her Zero Gravity.

 

"Release!" Uraraka gasped, pressing her fingertips together.

 

Izuku dropped the remaining three feet, hitting the pavement with a heavy thud. He groaned, his entire body screaming in agony. His right arm, the one he had used to punch the robot, was completely purple and bruised, the muscles heavily torn from the gravitational backlash. His nose and ears were bleeding.

 

"Are you... okay?" Uraraka asked, crawling over to him, her face pale.

 

"Yeah," Izuku rasped, giving her a weak thumbs-up. "Just... a little headache."

 

"TIME'S UP!" Present Mic's voice blared over the speakers.

 

The mock battle was over. Izuku lay on his back, staring up at the sky. The clouds had parted slightly. He could see the Waning Half Moon, pale and faint against the morning sun.

 

"Very nice work, everyone!"

 

A small, elderly woman hobbled through the crowd of stunned examinees, using a large syringe as a cane. It was the Youthful Heroine, Recovery Girl.

 

"Oh dear, this one really pushed his limits," she said, kneeling beside Izuku. She looked at his bruised arm and bleeding nose. "Gravity recoil? You essentially gave yourself a severe concussion and tore your ligaments. Foolish boy."

 

She puckered her lips and planted a wet kiss on Izuku's forehead.

 

Instantly, a warm rush of energy flooded Izuku's body. The tearing pain in his arm subsided, the bruising fading to a dull yellow. The bleeding from his nose stopped. The migraine evaporated.

 

However, as his body forcefully accelerated its healing process, it drained the very last drop of his physical stamina.

 

Izuku tried to sit up, but his vision swam. The world titled dangerously to the left. He saw Uraraka smiling at him in relief. He saw the ruined chassis of the Zero Pointer.

 

And then, he saw nothing at all, slipping away into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

The hologram projector clicked off, the small metal disc sliding back into the pristine white envelope on Izuku Midoriya’s desk. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the streetlights outside his window, but Izuku didn’t need the light to see the image burned into his mind.

 

“You pass with flying colors, young Midoriya! Welcome… to your Hero Academia!”

 

All Might’s booming voice still echoed in the quiet of his bedroom. Izuku let out a long, shuddering breath, leaning back in his desk chair. He looked down at his right arm. It was wrapped in an elastic compression sleeve, a lingering reminder of the sheer devastation he had wrought upon his own body when he punched the Zero Pointer.

 

Recovery Girl had healed the worst of the torn ligaments and the micro-fractures in his bones, but she had warned him that the localized gravitational well he had created was incredibly dangerous. "You treated your own arm like the event horizon of a black hole, child. Do it again without proper conditioning, and I won't be able to put the pieces back together."

 

Izuku clenched his fist. The pain was practically gone, replaced by a deep, thrumming heat that had been building steadily over the past three days.

 

He flipped open his leather-bound journal to the current date.

 

April 10th. First Day of U.A. High School.

Lunar Phase: Waxing Gibbous (85% Illumination).

State: Nearing Full Moon. Elevated aggression. High physical enhancement. Ambient light saturation at critical levels.

 

Izuku took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The Waxing Gibbous phase was a double-edged sword. As the moon swelled toward its full, blinding peak, so did his power. His body was currently acting like an overcharged solar battery, aggressively absorbing ambient moonlight even through the cloud cover of the previous night.

 

He felt strong. Too strong. His skin hummed with a faint, almost imperceptible silver sheen. His blood felt thick and hot, like liquid adrenaline pumping through his veins. During the New Moon, he was a ghost. During the Half Moon, he was the master of gravity. But during the Gibbous and Full Moon phases, he was a pure, unadulterated brawler.

 

The danger of the Gibbous phase was the emotional bleed-over. It made him hyperactive, confident to the point of arrogance, and easily agitated. He had to keep a tight leash on his temper today.

 

"Izuku! Breakfast is ready! You don't want to be late for your first day!" his mother called from the kitchen.

 

"Coming, Mom!" Izuku called back. He stood up, grabbed his brand-new U.A. uniform—the gray blazer with the green stripes, the red tie—and quickly put it on. It fit perfectly, tailored to the dense muscle he had packed on over the last ten months at Dagobah Beach.

 

He looked at himself in the mirror. His green eyes caught the light, flashing for a split second with a cold, silver ring around the iris. He blinked, and it was gone.

 

Keep it under control, he told his reflection. You're a student today. Not a weapon.

 

 

 

The hallways of U.A. High School were massive, designed to accommodate students with gigantification or mutation Quirks. Izuku walked down the polished corridors, the sounds of his new heavy-duty sneakers echoing lightly.

 

He was vibrating with excess energy. The Gibbous phase made standing still feel like torture. He wanted to run, to sprint up the walls, to punch a crater into the floor just to let off some steam. He squeezed his hands into tight fists, forcing his breathing into the meditative rhythm All Might had taught him. Inhale for four seconds. Hold for four. Exhale for four.

 

He finally found a door roughly the size of a blast shelter, with the label "1-A" painted in massive red letters.

 

Izuku stopped in front of it. This is it. The starting line.

 

He reached out and slid the massive door open.

 

"Take your feet off of that desk immediately!"

 

"Huh?! What did you say to me, Four-Eyes?!"

 

Izuku let out a soft groan. Of course. The first thing he heard was the sound of Katsuki Bakugo picking a fight.

 

Inside the classroom, the tall, bespectacled boy with engine calves—the one who had scolded everyone at the orientation—was chopping his arm stiffly through the air at Katsuki. Katsuki, completely unbothered, was leaning back in his chair with his boots firmly planted on the polished wood of his desk, an ugly scowl on his face.

 

"It is the first day of school, and you are already disrespecting the property of our upperclassmen and the legacy of this great institution!" the glasses boy declared.

 

"A legacy? I'll crush it," Katsuki sneered, popping a small explosion in his palm. "What middle school are you from, extra?"

 

"I-I am Tenya Iida, from Somei Private Academy!"

 

"Somei? So you're an elite, huh? I'm gonna have fun crushing you to pieces."

 

"Crushing me?! That is exceptionally cruel! Do you truly aim to be a hero?!" Iida gasped, clutching his chest in horror. He turned toward the door, finally noticing Izuku standing in the threshold.

 

The entire classroom seemed to pause.

 

Katsuki's red eyes locked onto Izuku. The arrogant sneer on his face vanished, replaced by a look of profound, venomous hatred. Izuku felt the Gibbous energy spike in his chest, a primal, animalistic urge to bare his teeth rising in his throat. He forced it down, maintaining a neutral expression.

 

Iida immediately marched over to the doorway, his movements stiff and robotic. "You! You are the one who realized the true nature of the practical exam!"

 

Izuku blinked. "The true nature?"

 

"Yes! You prioritized saving that girl over gaining points! I was completely blind to the rescue mechanic of the exam!" Iida bowed deeply, perfectly at a ninety-degree angle. "I judged you prematurely in the auditorium! I must apologize! You are clearly a superior candidate!"

 

"Uh, n-no, you don't need to bow!" Izuku stammered, his aggressive Gibbous energy faltering slightly under Iida's intense earnestness. "I just moved before I thought. I didn't actually know about the rescue points."

 

"Hey! You!"

 

Izuku looked past Iida to see a familiar face poking out from the hallway behind him. It was Ochaco Uraraka, her brown hair bobbing as she smiled brightly.

 

"The frizzy-haired boy! You made it!" she cheered, clapping her hands together. "I'm so glad! Your punch against that huge robot was incredible! It was like BAM and then KABOOM and the whole thing just folded like paper!"

 

"Oh, uh, thanks, Uraraka," Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush. The sudden influx of praise was completely foreign to him. He was used to being the outcast.

 

Suddenly, a chair scraped violently against the floor.

 

Katsuki stood up, kicking his desk forward an inch. He stormed down the aisle, shoving Iida roughly to the side. He stopped inches from Izuku's face, his palms smoking, the smell of burnt caramel filling the air.

 

"You..." Katsuki growled, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "You lied to me, Deku."

 

Izuku met his gaze. The silver ring in Izuku’s irises flared back to life. The Gibbous phase demanded he stand his ground. "I didn't lie about anything, Kacchan."

 

"Bullshit!" Katsuki yelled, grabbing the collar of Izuku's blazer. "You've been playing the victim for ten years! Whining about how your Quirk is weak! How you're just a battery! But I saw the footage from the exam! You folded a building-sized robot with one punch! What phase was that, huh?! When the hell did you learn to manipulate gravity like a black hole?!"

 

"I've always had it," Izuku said, his voice dropping an octave. He didn't shrink away. He didn't stammer. The heat in his blood made him reckless. He stepped into Katsuki's space, closing the gap until their noses almost touched. "I just learned how to use it. If you have a problem with me being here, take it up with the judges."

 

The classroom fell dead silent. Even Uraraka took a step back. No one had expected the nerdy-looking kid to snap back at the explosive blonde with such cold intensity.

 

Katsuki's teeth bared. "I'm gonna kill you—"

 

"If you're just here to make friends and pick fights, you can pack up your stuff and leave."

 

The voice was flat, tired, and sounded like it was coming from the floor.

 

Everyone jumped and looked down. Lying on the floor in the hallway, zipped up in a bright yellow sleeping bag like a massive, depressing caterpillar, was a grown man. He had long, unkempt black hair, heavy bags under his eyes, and a scruffy scarf wrapped around his neck.

 

The man unzipped the sleeping bag and stood up, pulling a juice pouch out of his pocket and taking a slow sip.

 

"It took you lot eight seconds to quiet down," he muttered, tossing the empty pouch into a nearby trash can. "Time is limited. You kids aren't rational enough."

 

A teacher? Izuku thought, analyzing the man. He looks exhausted. But his posture... his center of gravity is perfectly balanced. He's a pro hero. But which one?

 

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa," the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nice to meet you."

 

The class gasped. This guy is our teacher?!

 

Aizawa reached into his sleeping bag and pulled out a stack of blue and white uniforms. "Hurry up and put these gym clothes on. Then head out to the P.E. grounds. We aren't doing orientation today."

 

"No orientation?" Uraraka asked, confused. "But what about the entrance ceremony? The guidance counselor meetings?"

 

"U.A. is known for its unrestricted school traditions," Aizawa said, a dark smile creeping onto his face. "That means teachers run their classes however they see fit. Midoriya, Bakugo, let go of each other before I expel you both."

 

Izuku immediately dropped his hand from where it had unconsciously risen to grab Katsuki's wrist. Katsuki let go of Izuku's collar, clicking his tongue in annoyance, and grabbed a uniform.

 

 

 

The sun was bright and blinding on the dirt field of the U.A. P.E. grounds. Class 1-A stood in a loose cluster, wearing their athletic tracksuits.

 

Izuku stretched his arms over his head. The Gibbous energy inside him was practically vibrating against his ribs. The sunlight, ironically, was feeding him today. While the sun usually drowned out the moon, during the Gibbous and Full phases, the moon was large enough and reflective enough in the atmosphere that even indirect ambient light fueled his solar-battery biology. He felt like a coiled spring.

 

"A Quirk Apprehension Test?!" the class shouted in unison.

 

"Exactly," Aizawa said, standing with his hands in his pockets. "In middle school, you did physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your Quirks. It's a completely irrational way to measure human potential. The country still uses averages from Quirkless statistics. It's a joke."

 

Aizawa turned to Katsuki. "Bakugo. You finished first in the practical exam."

 

Izuku's head snapped up. First?

 

Katsuki smirked, crossing his arms.

 

"In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?" Aizawa asked.

 

"Sixty-seven meters," Katsuki replied.

 

"Try it with your Quirk." Aizawa tossed a baseball to Katsuki and pointed to a white circle painted on the dirt. "As long as you stay in the circle, anything goes. Don't hold back."

 

Katsuki cracked his neck, stepping into the circle. He grinned ferociously. He wound his arm back, his palm sparking violently.

 

"DIE!" Katsuki roared.

 

BOOOOOOM!

 

A massive, concussive explosion erupted from Katsuki's hand as he released the ball. The sheer force propelled the sphere into the sky like a cannonball, leaving a trail of black smoke in its wake.

 

The class watched in awe as the ball vanished into the clouds. A moment later, Aizawa held up a digital device. It beeped.

 

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa said, turning the screen to the class.

 

705.2 meters.

 

"Whoa! Seven hundred meters?!" a boy with spiky red hair yelled. "That's awesome!"

 

"We can use our Quirks as much as we want! This looks like fun!" a girl with pink skin and horns cheered.

 

Aizawa's eyes darkened. "Fun? You think you have three years here just to have a good time and goof off?"

 

The air around the teacher suddenly grew heavy, oppressive. "Alright then. Let's make it interesting. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential... and will be punished with immediate expulsion."

 

The class erupted in panic.

 

"Expulsion?! On the first day?!" Uraraka cried out. "That's completely unfair!"

 

"Natural disasters, massive accidents, ego-driven villains... the world is full of unfairness," Aizawa drawled, his scarf shifting slightly. "Heroes are the ones who correct that unfairness. If you were planning to go to McDonald's and hang out after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. is going to inflict hardship after hardship upon you. Go beyond. Plus Ultra. Overcome it with all you've got."

 

Izuku stared at Aizawa. The fear that gripped the rest of the class didn't touch him. Instead, the Waxing Gibbous phase inside him roared in approval.

 

A challenge, Izuku thought, his silver aura flaring faintly beneath his skin, making the green tracksuit seem to glow. He wants us to prove we deserve to be here. Fine. I'll show him.

 

"Test one: 50-meter dash," Aizawa announced.

 

Izuku lined up against Iida.

 

"On your marks," a robotic voice called from a camera tripod at the finish line.

 

Izuku closed his eyes. Phase: Waxing Gibbous. Sub-ability: Lunar Enhancement.

 

He didn't need gravity today. He didn't need hard light or shadows. He just needed to let the moon saturate his muscle fibers. He visualized the silver energy in his chest pumping outward, flooding his legs with sheer, unadulterated kinetic power. The veins in his neck bulged slightly, glowing with a faint, silvery-blue light.

 

"Get set."

 

Izuku dropped into a sprinter's stance. The dirt beneath his sneakers cracked under the pressure.

 

BANG!

 

Iida’s calf engines roared to life, shooting him forward like a bullet. Burst Speed! Iida thought, confident in his victory.

 

But Izuku was already gone.

 

The ground where Izuku had been standing exploded into a cloud of dust. He didn't run so much as he launched himself forward with pure, brute force. The air whipped past his face, tearing at his eyes. His muscles contracted and expanded with terrifying efficiency.

 

He crossed the finish line a split second before Iida.

 

“3.04 seconds,” the robotic voice announced for Iida.

“2.98 seconds,” it announced for Izuku.

 

Iida skidded to a halt, his glasses completely askew, staring at Izuku in shock. "Incredible! Your acceleration is monstrous, Midoriya! Is your Quirk a physical enhancement type?!"

 

Izuku was panting, a wild, aggressive grin threatening to break out on his face. He forced it down, coughing into his fist. "Something like that. Good race, Iida."

 

Aizawa watched from the sidelines, his eyes narrowing slightly as he jotted down the times.

 

Test Two: Grip Strength.

 

Izuku walked over to the digital hand dynamometers. A tall student with six arms, Mezo Shoji, had just scored an impressive 540 kilograms.

 

Izuku grabbed the device. The Gibbous energy was begging to be released. He let the silver aura coat his hand, increasing his bone density and muscle contraction tenfold. He squeezed.

 

The machine groaned. The metal handle warped under his fingers.

 

BEEP.

 

Izuku looked down. 610 kg. He had nearly crushed the internal sensors. He handed the slightly bent machine to the next student, who stared at him in horror.

 

Test Three: Standing Long Jump.

 

Izuku channeled the power into his legs again, clearing the entire sandbox with ease, landing softly on the grass beyond.

 

Test Four: Repeated Side Steps.

 

Izuku's enhanced agility allowed him to move so fast he practically blurred, leaving afterimages of silver light behind him.

 

By the time the fifth test arrived—the softball throw—the rest of the class was whispering and pointing at him.

 

"Who is this guy?" the red-haired boy, Kirishima, asked Kaminari, a blonde boy with a lightning bolt in his hair. "I thought Bakugo was the powerhouse, but this Midoriya guy is acting like a wild animal. Did you see his eyes? They were practically glowing silver."

 

"Yeah, and he hasn't even used the gravity trick Iida was talking about," Kaminari muttered. "He's just brute-forcing everything."

 

Katsuki was seething. Every time Izuku scored high, Katsuki's eye twitched. He remembered the weak, defenseless kid crying in the sandbox. The cognitive dissonance was tearing him apart. How?! How did he hide this for ten years?!

 

"Midoriya," Aizawa called out, holding up a softball. "Your turn."

 

Izuku stepped into the white circle. The ball felt light in his hand, almost weightless.

 

I'm doing well, Izuku thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. The Gibbous phase was making him dizzy with adrenaline. I'm dominating the physical tests. If I throw this with 100% of my Gibbous strength, I can break Katsuki's record. I can prove to everyone that I'm not a part-timer anymore.

 

Izuku widened his stance. He closed his eyes and opened the floodgates.

 

Instantly, a brilliant, blinding silver aura erupted from his body. His green hair floated upward, defying gravity, tips glowing white. The air around him grew cold, smelling strongly of ozone and static. The sheer volume of energy he was manifesting kicked up a swirling wind in the dirt circle.

 

The class gasped, shielding their eyes.

 

"Whoa! That's so bright!" Ashido yelped.

 

Izuku reeled his arm back. He could feel the power pooling in his shoulder, ready to be unleashed. He felt invincible. He was a god of the sky.

 

Go beyond! Izuku roared in his mind.

 

He threw his arm forward with all his might.

 

But right at the exact moment of release, something horrible happened.

 

The silver light vanished.

 

It wasn't a fade; it was an abrupt, violent cessation. It felt as though someone had poured a bucket of liquid nitrogen directly into Izuku's veins. The thrumming heat, the aggressive high, the god-like strength—it was all stripped away in a microsecond, leaving behind nothing but a tired, fourteen-year-old boy.

 

Izuku's arm, now devoid of enhancement, jerked forward awkwardly. The ball slipped from his fingers with a pathetic plop.

 

It bounced twice in the dirt and rolled to a stop.

 

Aizawa held up the scanner. 46.2 meters.

 

Izuku stumbled forward, catching his balance. He stared at his empty hands in utter shock. The moon... the moon was gone. He couldn't feel it. For the first time since he was four years old, his inner sky was completely black.

 

"I erased your Quirk," a cold voice said.

 

Izuku spun around.

 

Aizawa was glaring at him. His long black hair was floating wildly in the air, defying gravity. But it was his eyes that were terrifying. They were glowing a fierce, blood-red, completely devoid of empathy. The scarf around his neck was unwinding, floating around him like a nest of vipers.

 

"That ridiculous entrance exam," Aizawa sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "It's completely irrational. It lets kids like you slip through the cracks."

 

"E-Erased my Quirk?" Izuku stammered, the sudden loss of the Gibbous aggression making him feel small and vulnerable. He recognized the goggles hanging around Aizawa's neck. "Those goggles... you can erase Quirks by looking at people! You're the Erasure Hero: Eraser Head!"

 

"Eraser Head? Never heard of him," someone in the class muttered.

 

"I have," Izuku said automatically, his fanboy instincts kicking in despite his panic. "He's an underground hero. He avoids the media to keep his Quirk a secret in combat."

 

"From what I've observed," Aizawa continued, ignoring the murmurs, "you don't have control over your own baseline, do you, Midoriya?"

 

Izuku froze.

 

Aizawa stepped forward, his red eyes boring into Izuku's soul. "I read your file. 'Lunar Cycle'. Your power fluctuates daily based on celestial mechanics. Today, you are riding the high of a Waxing Gibbous. You feel strong. You feel fast. You feel like you can't be beaten."

 

Aizawa stopped just outside the circle. "But you're a fraud."

 

Izuku flinched as if he had been slapped.

 

"You're using today's specific phase as a crutch," Aizawa challenged, his voice raising so the whole class could hear. "You threw yourself into these physical tests with no technique, just raw, unadulterated power fed to you by the calendar. You fight like a mindless brawler today because the moon tells you to. Tell me, what happens tomorrow?"

 

Aizawa pointed a finger at Izuku's chest. "What happens when you face a villain on a New Moon? What happens when you have no silver aura to save you? Do you run away? Do you suddenly become a stealth hero and cower in the shadows? If your fighting style changes entirely every single week, you have no true martial foundation. You're unpredictable, yes, but mostly to yourself."

 

Izuku stared at the ground. Aizawa's words hit harder than any punch All Might had ever thrown at Dagobah Beach.

 

Aizawa was right.

 

Izuku had spent ten months training his body, but he was still mentally compartmentalizing his Quirk. When it was Half Moon, he acted like a sniper, using gravity from afar. When it was Gibbous, he acted like a berserker, rushing in without thought. He was letting the moon dictate his tactics, rather than using the moon's tools to complement a singular, unified style.

 

"You rely too much on the calendar, Midoriya," Aizawa said softly, his hair finally falling back down as he blinked, deactivating his Quirk. "If you cannot learn to fight with a unified purpose, across all phases, you will become a liability to your team. You cannot be a pro hero if society has to guess what kind of hero you are on any given day."

 

Aizawa turned and walked back toward the class. "I've returned your Quirk. You have two chances. Take your second throw. If you just rely on the brute force of the phase again, you're going home."

 

Izuku stood in the circle, his heart pounding. He could feel the Gibbous energy rushing back into his veins, hot and demanding. The aggressive instinct urged him to flare up, to scream, to show Aizawa just how much raw power he had.

 

No, Izuku thought, taking a deep breath and forcing the energy down. He's right. If I just let the phase control me, I'm just a passenger in my own body.

 

Izuku looked down at his arm. He remembered the pain of the Zero Pointer. He remembered All Might's martial arts training on the beach.

 

A unified style, Izuku realized. I need to stop treating my phases as different people. I am Izuku Midoriya. I punch, I kick, I analyze. The phase is just the ammunition. I am the gun.

 

Izuku bent down and picked up the softball.

 

He didn't activate the silver aura immediately. Instead, he dropped into a standard, perfectly balanced throwing stance. He checked his footing, ensuring his hips were aligned to generate maximum torque. He was using the baseline physical strength he had built from moving thousands of tons of trash.

 

He brought his arm back.

 

I won't let the Gibbous phase drown me out. I'll focus it. I'll compress it.

 

Izuku threw his arm forward, utilizing perfect biomechanical technique. And only at the very last microsecond, exactly at the point of release, did he call upon the moon.

 

He didn't let the energy coat his entire body. He funneled all the aggressive, overwhelming power of the Waxing Gibbous directly into the tip of his index finger.

 

Smash Style: Gibbous Point!

 

A singular, blinding flash of silver light erupted from Izuku's fingertip right as the ball left his hand.

 

BOOOOOOM!

 

The sonic boom was deafening. The ball broke the sound barrier instantly, creating a shockwave that kicked up a massive cloud of dust around the circle. A trail of silver plasma followed the ball as it tore through the sky, piercing the clouds before vanishing entirely.

 

Izuku stood completely still, his arm outstretched. His finger was throbbing, glowing red with the sheer friction of the release, but it wasn't broken. He had controlled the output perfectly, relying on his martial foundation to handle the stress.

 

He turned to look at Aizawa.

 

Aizawa stared at the dust cloud for a long moment. Then, slowly, a massive, unhinged grin spread across the pro hero's face. He held up the scanner.

 

705.3 meters.

 

"Teacher," Izuku said, his voice completely calm, devoid of the aggressive Gibbous static. "I can still move."

 

The class erupted into chaos.

 

"Over 700 meters?!"

"He beat Bakugo's score by a single decimal point!"

"Did you see that shockwave?! It was like a cannon going off!"

 

Katsuki stood completely frozen, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. He stared at the scanner, then back at Izuku. The numbers burned into his retinas. 705.3. He beat me. The Quirkless loser, the part-timer, he beat me.

 

Something inside Katsuki snapped.

 

"DEKU!" Katsuki roared, the smell of burnt sugar turning acrid as sweat poured from his palms. He lunged forward, ignoring the rules, ignoring the teacher, completely consumed by rage. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! TELL ME HOW YOU DID THAT!"

 

Izuku tensed, his martial arts instincts taking over. He shifted his weight, preparing to dodge and counter. He didn't need the silver aura to slip a wild right hook.

 

But before Katsuki could reach him, a thick, gray cloth wrapped tightly around Katsuki's torso, binding his arms to his sides.

 

Katsuki hit the ground face-first, grunting as he struggled against the incredibly tough fabric. "What... what is this stuff?! I can't break it!"

 

"It's a carbon-fiber capture weapon woven with special metal alloy wire," Aizawa said, gripping the end of the scarf. His eyes were glowing red again, erasing Katsuki's explosions. "Stand down, Bakugo. You're acting like a child."

 

Aizawa blinked, his hair falling. He unraveled the scarf, letting Katsuki scramble back to his feet. Katsuki was panting, glaring daggers at Izuku, but he didn't attack again.

 

"We're wasting time," Aizawa sighed, walking past them. "Whoever's next, step up."

 

 

 

The rest of the tests passed in a blur. Izuku maintained his new strategy: relying on his baseline strength and only using short, compressed bursts of Gibbous energy when absolutely necessary. By the end of the eighth test, he was exhausted, but his mind felt clearer than it had in months.

 

"Alright, time for the results," Aizawa said, projecting a holographic scoreboard from his phone. "The total is the mark you got in each test. I'm just going to show you the whole list."

 

Izuku scanned the hologram, his heart in his throat.

 

1. Momo Yaoyorozu

2. Shoto Todoroki

3. Katsuki Bakugo

4. Izuku Midoriya

5. Tenya Iida

...

20. Minoru Mineta

 

Izuku let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Fourth place. He had actually managed to place in the top five, beating out Iida and coming right behind Katsuki.

 

Mineta, a small boy with purple balls on his head, fell to his knees in tears. "I'm expelled! I didn't even get to touch the girls' PE uniforms!"

 

"Oh, by the way, I was lying about the expulsion," Aizawa said casually, turning off the hologram.

 

The entire class froze.

 

"It was a rational deception," Aizawa grinned, showing entirely too many teeth. "It was a logical ruse to draw out the upper limits of your Quirks. If you aren't pushed to the brink of losing everything, you won't give it your all."

 

"WHAT?!" the class shrieked.

 

"Of course it was a lie," Yaoyorozu, a tall girl with a black ponytail, sighed. "Didn't any of you figure that out?"

 

Izuku chuckled nervously. Given Aizawa's intense critique earlier, Izuku was fairly certain the teacher would have expelled someone if he felt they truly had zero potential.

 

"With that, we're done here," Aizawa said, walking away. "There are handouts with the syllabus and other materials in the classroom. Look over them. Midoriya."

 

Izuku stopped, turning to face his teacher.

 

Aizawa tossed a small packet of bandages to him. "You controlled the output well on that throw, but the friction still tore the skin on your finger. Go to Recovery Girl and have it looked at. Don't think you've figured it all out yet. Tomorrow is a new phase. Be ready."

 

Izuku caught the bandages. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

 

 

 

The sun was setting as Izuku walked out of the U.A. gates, the sky burning a brilliant orange and purple. The day had been utterly exhausting, but as he looked down at his bandaged finger, he couldn't help but smile.

 

"Midoriya!"

 

Izuku turned to see Iida jogging to catch up with him, with Uraraka trailing closely behind.

 

"Your performance today was exemplary!" Iida said, chopping his arm. "Your physical strength is incredible! And I must commend your composure when dealing with Bakugo's violent outbursts."

 

"Yeah! You were so cool!" Uraraka added, bumping her shoulder against his. "That shockwave throw was amazing! You're really strong, Midoriya!"

 

"Ah, thanks guys," Izuku blushed, rubbing his neck. "But I have a lot to learn. My Quirk... it's complicated. I'm still trying to figure out how to be consistent."

 

"Well, whatever it is, I think 'Deku' is going to be a great hero name for you!" Uraraka beamed.

 

Izuku flinched. "Deku? But Kacchan uses that to insult me. It means 'useless' or 'defective'."

 

"Really?" Uraraka tilted her head. "I thought it sounded like the Japanese word for 'You can do it!' It has a really positive, never-give-up vibe to me!"

 

Izuku's eyes widened. For ten years, that word had been a chain around his neck, a constant reminder of his shifting, unreliable nature. But hearing Uraraka say it, with a bright smile... it didn't feel heavy anymore.

 

"I'm Deku," Izuku said, a determined smile forming on his lips. "I like it."

 

Iida pushed his glasses up. "Are you truly going to accept an insult as your alias?"

 

"It's like a paradigm shift," Izuku explained, feeling the Gibbous moon begin to rise in the darkening sky. The aggressive edge was returning, but this time, it felt controlled. It felt purposeful. "I'm going to take the thing he hates about me, and make it my strength."

 

As the three of them walked toward the train station, chatting animatedly, Izuku looked up at the sky. The Waxing Gibbous moon was pale silver against the dusk.

 

He knew tomorrow would bring a new phase. The day after that, he would edge closer to the terrifying Full Moon. He would lose his gravity, his hard light, his shadows.

 

But Aizawa's lesson echoed in his mind. The phase is just the ammunition. I am the gun.

 

From an alleyway a block away, All Might watched his student walk with his new friends. The skeletal man smiled, pulling his yellow coat tighter around his frame.

 

"You're growing up fast, young Midoriya," All Might whispered into the evening wind. "But the real trials haven't even begun."