what if deku had ultimatrix

 

The world is not created equal.

 

That was the harsh, immovable truth that Izuku Midoriya learned at the tender age of four. It was an age where the world was supposed to be a canvas of endless possibilities, where dreams of donning a cape and saving the day were not only encouraged but expected. For eighty percent of the global population, those dreams were fueled by the manifestation of Quirks—superhuman abilities that ranged from the mundane to the godlike.

 

For the remaining twenty percent, the world was a vastly different place. It was a place of lowered expectations, of pitying glances, and of closed doors. Izuku belonged to that unlucky minority. He was Quirkless. A genetic relic in an age of evolution.

 

But despite the universe’s cruel hand, Izuku refused to let go of his dream.

 

 

 

The morning of the incident began like any other, framed by the blinding flash of a superpower in action. Izuku stood at the edge of Tatooin Station, his oversized yellow backpack threatening to slide off his shoulders as he frantically scribbled in a charred, water-logged notebook.

 

Hero Analysis for the Future, Volume 13.

 

Above the train tracks, a gigantic villain with a shark-like mutation was roaring, swiping at the electrical towers. Below him, the pros were doing their best at crowd control. Death Arms, a hero with immense physical strength, was catching falling debris. Kamui Woods, a rising star in the hero scene, was attempting to bind the villain with branches extending from his arms.

 

"Pre-emptive Binding: Lacquered Chain Prison!" Kamui shouted, his wooden tendrils shooting forward.

 

Before the attack could connect, a colossal woman in a skin-tight purple and cream suit dropped from the sky, delivering a devastating flying kick to the villain's jaw.

 

"Canyon Cannon!" she cried out as the villain was sent flying into the pavement, unconscious. Photographers swarmed the street, snapping pictures of the new heroine, Mt. Lady, as she struck a provocative pose.

 

Izuku’s hand was a blur on the paper. Gigantification Quirk. Extremely powerful, incredible localized destructive capabilities. However, her size limits her effectiveness in narrow streets and densely populated areas. Prone to collateral damage if not careful.

 

"Taking notes, kid?" an older man standing next to him chuckled. "You aiming to be a hero?"

 

Izuku beamed, his emerald eyes shining with a determination that belied his scrawny frame. "Yes! More than anything!"

 

It was a naive statement. A statement that, in just a few hours, would be utterly shattered.

 

 

 

The atmosphere in classroom 3-C of Aldera Junior High was suffocating. The teacher stood at the front of the room, a stack of career aptitude test forms in his hand.

 

"Since you're all third years, it's time for you to think seriously about your futures," the teacher sighed, waving the papers lazily. "I'll pass out these printouts for your desired career paths, but... you all pretty much want to be heroes, right?"

 

He threw the papers into the air. The classroom erupted. Students leaped from their desks, activating their Quirks in a chaotic display of minor elemental manipulation, glowing appendages, and elongating limbs.

 

"Yes, yes, you all have wonderful Quirks," the teacher said, not even trying to calm them down. "But remember, using your Quirks in school is against the rules."

 

"Hey, teach!" a loud, arrogant voice cut through the noise. "Don't lump me in with these background characters! I'm not gonna be stuck at the bottom of the barrel with these weak-ass Quirks."

 

Katsuki Bakugo leaned back in his chair, his feet kicked up on his desk. He wore a smirk full of unearned superiority. The classroom instantly turned on him, shouting in protest, but Katsuki just laughed.

 

"Bring it on, extras! I aced the mock test. I'm the only one here with the stuff to get into U.A. High School. I'm gonna surpass All Might and become the top hero!"

 

Izuku shrank into his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. U.A. High was the pinnacle of hero education in Japan. It was also his dream school.

 

"Oh yeah, Midoriya," the teacher read from a clipboard, completely oblivious to the social execution he was about to perform. "Don't you want to go to U.A. too?"

 

The room went dead silent. Then, a cacophony of cruel, mocking laughter shook the walls.

 

"Midoriya? No way!"

"You can't get into the hero course just by studying!"

"He's Quirkless! What's he gonna do, read a villain to death?"

 

Izuku stood up, his face burning red, waving his hands defensively. "T-They got rid of that rule! I could be the first one! I just have to try—"

 

BOOM!

 

A concussive blast of heat and kinetic energy slammed into Izuku’s desk, throwing him backward onto the floor. Katsuki stood over him, his palms smoking with the residue of his nitroglycerin-like sweat. His crimson eyes glared down at Izuku with a hatred that Izuku could never quite understand.

 

"Listen up, Deku," Katsuki snarled, using the childhood insult that meant 'useless'. "You're even worse than these rejects. You're completely Quirkless. You really think you can stand in the same ring as me?"

 

"No, wait, Kacchan!" Izuku scrambled backward against the wall. "I'm not trying to compete with you! I swear! It's just... it's been my dream since I was little. And there's no harm in trying, right?"

 

"Try?! What can you even do?!" Katsuki yelled.

 

The rest of the day passed in a haze of humiliation. When the final bell rang, Izuku remained at his desk, staring blankly at his phone, trying to summon the energy to walk home. He packed his things, pulling out Volume 13 of his notebook.

 

Suddenly, a hand snatched it from his grip.

 

"We ain't done here, Deku," Katsuki said, holding the notebook up. His two lackeys stood behind him, snickering.

 

"Come on, Kacchan, give it back," Izuku pleaded, his voice trembling.

 

Katsuki read the cover. "Hero Analysis for the Future? Seriously? You're still delusional."

 

Without a second thought, Katsuki slammed his palms together around the notebook. A sharp explosion echoed in the empty classroom. The covers were scorched black, the pages smoldering.

 

"Ah!" Izuku cried out, reaching for it.

 

Katsuki carelessly tossed the ruined notebook out the open window. It landed in a koi pond below with a depressing splash.

 

"Most top-tier heroes have stories about their school days. How they were the only ones from their mediocre middle schools to make it to greatness," Katsuki said, grabbing Izuku by the shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into the boy's collarbone. "I'm a perfectionist. I want to be the only one from this garbage heap to get into U.A. So do me a favor. Forget U.A."

 

Katsuki walked toward the door, pausing just at the threshold. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes cold and dead.

 

"If you want a Quirk so badly, there might be another way. Take a swan dive off the roof and pray you'll be born with a Quirk in your next life."

 

Izuku froze. The cruelty of the words stole the breath from his lungs. He wanted to scream, to fight back, to say something, anything. But as Katsuki raised a smoking hand in warning, Izuku’s mouth clamped shut. He was weak. He was powerless. He was exactly what they all said he was. Deku.

 

 

 

The walk home was a solitary march of misery. Izuku retrieved his soggy, burnt notebook from the koi pond, apologizing to the fish as he squeezed the water from the pages. He took a shortcut through a shadowy underpass, trying to avoid the main streets, trying to avoid people.

 

He forced a weak, wobbly smile onto his face, mimicking his idol, All Might. Keep your chin up. Keep smiling. You can be a hero.

 

A wet, sloshing sound echoed through the tunnel.

 

Izuku stopped. He turned around. Emerging from a manhole cover was a towering mass of dark, putrid sludge. It had no shape, save for two bulging, bloodshot eyes and a jagged, mocking mouth.

 

"A medium-sized invisibility cloak," the Sludge Villain gurgled, its voice wet and guttural. "Perfect."

 

Izuku dropped his notebook. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs were lead. Before he could take a single step backward, the villain lunged.

 

Cold, foul-tasting slime forced its way into Izuku's mouth and up his nose. He gagged, his hands clawing desperately at the viscous liquid wrapping around his throat. It felt like drowning in raw sewage.

 

"Don't worry, kid. It'll only hurt for about 45 seconds," the villain cooed, forcing itself down Izuku's airway. "You'll feel much better once you're my meat-suit. Thanks for the help. You're my hero."

 

I can't breathe... I'm dying...

 

Izuku clawed at the sludge. He tried to pull it away, but there was nothing to grasp. His lungs burned. His vision began to dim, the edges of his sight turning black. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the filth.

 

Is this it? Dying in an alley? Without ever trying? Mom... I'm sorry...

 

Just as consciousness began to slip away, the manhole cover burst off its hinges, flying into the ceiling with a deafening clang.

 

A massive silhouette filled the entrance of the tunnel. Steam radiated from the figure, and a booming, impossibly heroic voice echoed against the concrete.

 

"HAVE NO FEAR! YOU ARE SAFE!"

 

The Sludge Villain recoiled in sheer terror.

 

"BECAUSE I AM HERE!"

 

It was him. The Symbol of Peace. The Number One Hero. All Might.

 

The villain lashed out with a tendril of sludge, desperate to defend itself. All Might didn't even flinch. He pulled his right arm back, the muscles bulging to an absurd, impossible size.

 

"TEXAS... SMASH!"

 

He threw a punch. He didn't even hit the villain. The sheer air pressure generated by the force of his fist created a localized tornado within the tunnel. The wind ripped the sludge away from Izuku's body, scattering the villain into a thousand helpless droplets against the walls.

 

Izuku fell to the ground, coughing violently, gasping for sweet, beautiful oxygen. Through his blurred, tear-filled vision, he looked up at the towering, grinning titan of justice.

 

All... Might...

 

And then, the world went black.

 

 

 

Smack. Smack. Smack.

 

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

 

Izuku gasped, his eyes snapping open. All Might was leaning over him, lightly tapping his cheek.

 

"AHHH!" Izuku screamed, scrambling backward until his back hit the tunnel wall.

 

"Excellent! You're alright!" All Might boomed, placing his hands on his hips. "Sorry about that! I didn't mean to get you caught up in my villain hunting. I don't usually make mistakes like this, but I was fired up in a new city!"

 

Izuku couldn't believe his eyes. The Symbol of Peace was standing right in front of him. In the flesh.

 

"I—I need an autograph!" Izuku stammered, frantically searching for his notebook. He found it lying on the ground, already flipped open. Across a massive two-page spread, a giant signature was scribbled in bold marker.

 

"HE ALREADY SIGNED IT!" Izuku bowed repeatedly, his head almost hitting the dirt. "Thank you! Thank you! It will be a family heirloom! A treasure!"

 

"Well, I must be going," All Might said, giving a thumbs up. He held up two large plastic soda bottles. Inside them, the Sludge Villain was completely contained. "I have to take this guy to the police."

 

"Wait, already?" Izuku asked, panic setting in. "But I... I have so many questions..."

 

"Pros are constantly battling time and enemies!" All Might declared, turning away and bending his knees, preparing for a massive leap. "Stand back!"

 

No, Izuku thought, his heart hammering in his chest. If he leaves now, I'll never know. I'll never get the answer.

 

All Might sprang into the air, launching himself like a missile toward the sky.

 

He felt a sudden, heavy drag on his right leg. Looking down, his eyes bulged out of his head. Izuku Midoriya was clinging to his pant leg, his face contorted in absolute terror as the wind whipped his hair and tore at his skin.

 

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing?! Let go! Your fanaticism is too much!" All Might shouted, trying to pry the boy off.

 

"If I let go now... I'll die!" Izuku screamed, his eyes squeezed shut.

 

"Right! Good point!"

 

All Might grabbed the back of Izuku’s collar and scanned the area, spotting a tall office building. With a slight adjustment in trajectory, they crashed onto the rooftop, skidding to a halt.

 

Izuku collapsed onto his hands and knees, shaking violently. "My whole life... just flashed before my eyes..."

 

"Good grief," All Might sighed, wiping a sudden bead of sweat from his forehead. "If you knock on the door down there, someone will let you in. Now, I really must go."

 

"Wait!" Izuku shouted, finding his feet.

 

"No! I will not wait!"

 

"Can someone without a Quirk be a hero like you?!"

 

All Might stopped dead in his tracks. He stood facing away from the boy.

 

Izuku poured his heart out, the dam of ten years of repression finally breaking. "People think I don't have a chance! That I'm useless! But I want to save people. I want to save people with a fearless smile. I want to be the greatest hero, just like you!"

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the answer. Preparing for the encouragement he had craved his entire life.

 

A violent, sickening cough interrupted him.

 

Izuku opened his eyes. All Might was gone. In his place stood a skeletal, emaciated man in clothes entirely too large for him. His eyes were sunken, dark shadows cast over his sharp cheekbones. He was coughing up blood.

 

"Ah?! An impostor?!" Izuku shrieked, backing away.

 

"I am All Might," the skeletal man sighed, wiping blood from his chin. He slumped down against the rooftop railing, suddenly looking impossibly old. "You know how guys at the pool suck in their gut to look buff? I'm like that."

 

Izuku felt the world tilting on its axis.

 

All Might lifted his baggy shirt. On his left side, stretching across his ribcage, was a massive, horrific scar. It looked like the flesh had been carved out by a bomb. It radiated a gruesome, twisted pattern of purple and red tissue.

 

"Five years ago," All Might said quietly, his booming voice replaced by a hollow rasp. "An enemy did this to me. My respiratory system was nearly destroyed. I lost my whole stomach. After countless surgeries, I can only do hero work for about three hours a day."

 

"Five years ago?" Izuku murmured. "Was it... the fight with Toxic Chainsaw?"

 

"You know your stuff. But no. I made sure that fight was kept under wraps. A Symbol of Peace cannot be daunted by evil. I smile to hide the fear inside. I am a pro, because the people need to believe someone is watching over them."

 

All Might looked at the trembling boy, his blue eyes softening with a tragic kind of pity.

 

"Pros are always risking their lives. So, can you be a hero without a Quirk? No. I honestly don't think you can."

 

The words hit Izuku like a physical blow. The air rushed out of his lungs. The final nail in the coffin.

 

"If you want to save people, become a police officer," All Might said, standing up with a groan. "They get a lot of crap because villains get delivered to their doorstep, but it's a fine profession. It's not bad to dream, kid. But you have to consider what's realistic."

 

With those final, crushing words, All Might opened the rooftop door and descended the stairwell, leaving Izuku alone with the wind.

 

 

 

Izuku didn't know how long he stood on that roof.

 

When he finally moved, the sun was beginning its descent, painting the Mustafu skyline in bruised shades of violet and orange. He walked down the stairs in a trance. He exited the building, his feet moving on autopilot.

 

He's right. The greatest hero in the world said it. I have to stop dreaming.

 

Tears, hot and bitter, finally spilled over his eyelids. He didn't bother wiping them away. He just let them fall, tracing the freckles on his cheeks and dripping onto his scorched school uniform.

 

He didn't want to go home. He couldn't face his mother's worried eyes. He couldn't face his computer, surrounded by All Might posters that now felt like mocking monuments to his own stupidity.

 

Instead of taking the route back to his apartment, Izuku veered off. He wandered toward the industrial outskirts of the city, near the coastline. There was a massive municipal dump here, a sprawling stretch of uneven dirt, rusted car chassis, and discarded appliances. The city had promised to clean it up and turn it into a seaside park, but for now, it was a wasteland.

 

It matched how he felt inside.

 

Izuku climbed atop a rusted-out washing machine, pulling his knees to his chest. The smell of salt and rust filled the air. The sky above was rapidly darkening into twilight.

 

"Realistic," Izuku whispered to the empty air.

 

He buried his face in his knees and sobbed. He cried for the dream that had died today. He cried for the decade of bullying he had endured for nothing. He cried because Katsuki was right.

 

Maybe... maybe if I do jump... I'd get a Quirk in the next life.

 

It was a fleeting, intrusive thought, but the fact that he even entertained it made him feel sick.

 

As Izuku sat there in the silence of the junkyard, a strange sound broke the quiet.

 

It started as a low hum, vibrating in his teeth. Then, it grew into a high-pitched whine. Izuku lifted his head, wiping his eyes.

 

A streak of brilliant, emerald-green light tore across the twilight sky. It was moving too fast to be an airplane, and the trajectory was completely wrong for a shooting star. It was hurtling downward, right toward the woods bordering the junkyard.

 

BOOOM!

 

A concussive shockwave ripped through the air, vibrating the rusted metal beneath Izuku. A plume of smoke and dirt erupted from the treeline just a few hundred yards away.

 

Izuku froze. His hero-fanatic brain instantly kicked into gear, temporarily overriding his depression. Was it a villain attack? A hero crash-landing? A satellite?

 

Curiosity, that fatal flaw of his, pulled him to his feet. Cautiously, he slid off the washing machine and picked his way through the piles of garbage, heading toward the smoke.

 

As he breached the treeline, he found a massive crater gouged into the earth. The trees around it were splintered and scorched. At the very center of the crater, sitting in a pool of molten soil, was a metallic sphere. It was roughly the size of a beach ball, made of a dark, gunmetal gray material that didn't look like any metal Izuku had ever seen.

 

"A satellite?" Izuku muttered, sliding down the slope of the crater. The heat radiating from the object was intense, making him sweat.

 

As he stepped closer, a mechanical hiss emanated from the sphere. A glowing green seam appeared around its equator.

 

Izuku gasped and took a step back, tripping over a tree root and landing on his backside.

 

The top half of the sphere slid back, revealing the hollow interior. Sitting on a pedestal bathed in an eerie green light, was... a watch?

 

No, it was far too large to be a normal watch. It looked more like a gauntlet or a heavy bracer. It was primarily a dark, slate gray, with bright white accents and a prominent, raised dial on the faceplate featuring a green hourglass symbol. It looked bulky, industrial, and highly advanced.

 

"Support gear?" Izuku whispered to himself, crawling forward. "But why did it fall from the sky? Did a hero drop it from a plane?"

 

He reached out his left hand, his fingers hovering inches above the device. He shouldn't touch it. He should call the police. That was what a realistic citizen would do.

 

But as his hand drew near, the device seemed to react. The green hourglass symbol pulsed.

 

Suddenly, the gauntlet sprang to life. The back of the bracer snapped open like the jaws of a mechanical beast. Before Izuku could even register the movement, the device launched itself off the pedestal and clamped shut around his left wrist.

 

"GAH!" Izuku screamed, flailing his arm wildly.

 

The device whirred, tiny mechanical needles protruding from the inner lining and painlessly interfacing with his skin. It felt cold, then hot, then it settled into a low, thrumming vibration that seemed to sync with his heartbeat. The metal shifted and contracted, resizing itself to perfectly fit his thin forearm.

 

"Get off! Get off! Get off!" Izuku panicked, grabbing the edge of the device with his right hand and pulling with all his might. It didn't budge. It felt as if it had been welded to his bones.

 

He frantically looked around for a stick, a rock, anything to pry it off. "What is this thing?! A villain's weapon? A bomb?!"

 

BOOOOM!

 

Izuku jumped out of his skin, thinking the device had detonated. But the sound hadn't come from his wrist.

 

It came from the city.

 

A thick pillar of black smoke began to rise over the skyline of Mustafu, illuminating the gathering night with an orange, flickering glow of fire.

 

And then came a sound Izuku knew intimately. A rapid-fire succession of staccato explosions.

 

Pop. Pop. BANG.

 

Kacchan?

 

The thought hit Izuku like a freight train. That sound was unmistakable. It was Katsuki’s Quirk. But Katsuki was incredibly careful about not using his Quirk illegally in public. For him to be letting off blasts that massive... he was in trouble.

 

Without thinking, without processing the alien technology grafted to his arm, Izuku scrambled out of the crater and broke into a sprint toward the shopping district.

 

 

 

Tatooin Shopping District was a warzone.

 

Fire raged out of control, consuming storefronts and sending terrified civilians fleeing into the streets. The Pro Heroes had established a perimeter, but they were utterly failing to contain the threat.

 

Izuku pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his eyes widening in horror at the scene before him.

 

It was the Sludge Villain. It had grown even larger, its putrid form swelling and thrashing, creating massive tendrils that whipped through the air, tearing down street signs and shattering glass.

 

How? Izuku's mind raced. All Might captured him! I saw it! He put him in the bottles...

 

Then, a sickening realization dropped into Izuku’s stomach like a lead weight. When he had grabbed All Might's leg... when they were flying through the air... the bottles must have slipped from All Might's pockets.

 

It's my fault, Izuku thought, trembling violently. This is all my fault.

 

"Why aren't the heroes doing anything?!" a civilian next to Izuku shouted.

 

"They can't get close!" another replied. "The villain grabbed a middle schooler. The kid has a powerful explosive Quirk, but he's just making the fires worse!"

 

Izuku looked past the flames. Held captive within the massive body of the sludge, struggling with everything he had, was Katsuki Bakugo.

 

Katsuki was suffocating. Sludge filled his mouth and nose, just as it had done to Izuku hours earlier. He was blasting explosions blindly, trying to blow the villain away, but the fluid merely absorbed the shock and reformed.

 

"It's no good!" Death Arms shouted, coughing on the smoke. "I can't punch fluid! I can't get a grip on him!"

 

"My wood will just catch fire!" Kamui Woods gritted his teeth, holding civilians back.

 

"I need at least a two-lane street to use my Quirk!" Mt. Lady cried out in frustration.

 

"We have to wait for someone with a suitable Quirk!" another hero yelled. "Just hold on a little longer, kid!"

 

Izuku stared in disbelief. They were waiting. They were giving up.

 

He looked at Katsuki. Through the roaring flames and the swirling sludge, Katsuki’s crimson eyes met Izuku’s. The arrogance was gone. The superiority was gone.

 

In Katsuki’s eyes, Izuku saw a silent, desperate plea for help.

 

He's going to die.

 

Before Izuku’s conscious mind could comprehend what was happening, before logic or fear or the reality of his own Quirklessness could stop him, his legs moved.

 

He burst past the police tape.

 

"Hey! Kid, stop! Get back here!" Death Arms roared.

 

Izuku couldn't hear him. The roar of the flames, the pounding of his own heart, drowned out the world. He was running toward a monster that had almost killed him, armed with absolutely nothing.

 

What am I doing?! his brain screamed. Why am I running?! I'm going to die!

 

The Sludge Villain noticed him. "You again! I'll kill you for real this time!"

 

It raised a massive tendril of sludge, preparing to slam it down on the boy like a tidal wave.

 

Izuku reached for his backpack, intending to throw it, to distract the villain's eyes, to do something. But as he swung his left arm forward, his hand brushed against the bulky device on his wrist.

 

Beep.

 

The faceplate of the gauntlet slid back. The central dial popped up with a mechanical hiss, glowing with a blinding emerald light. A strange, holographic silhouette of a humanoid figure appeared within the green hourglass symbol.

 

Izuku tripped, falling forward. In his panic, as he braced for impact, his right hand slammed down on the popped-up dial.

 

KA-CHAK.

 

Time seemed to stop.

 

A shockwave of emerald energy erupted from the watch, entirely consuming Izuku in a pillar of blinding light. The heat of the fire was instantly replaced by a strange, tingling sensation that tore through his cellular structure.

 

He felt his bones hardening, calcifying, expanding. His skin turned cold and rigid. He felt himself growing taller, broader, heavier. The terrified scream in his throat morphed into a deep, resonating rumble.

 

The Sludge Villain’s tendril crashed down upon the pillar of light, expecting to crush a fragile human boy.

 

Instead, the sludge struck something immovable.

 

SHATTER.

 

The sludge splashed harmlessly away, repelled by a jagged, pale-green spike that had burst from the light.

 

The emerald glow faded, revealing a figure standing in the center of the street.

 

The crowd gasped. The heroes froze. Katsuki stopped struggling for a fraction of a second.

 

Standing where Izuku Midoriya had been was a towering, heavily muscled humanoid made entirely of pale-green, translucent crystal. He wore a black and white uniform that covered his torso, leaving his massive, crystalline arms bare. Two razor-sharp shards of crystal protruded from his back. His head was angular and sharp, ending in a wedge shape.

 

Where his eyes should have been, there were solid pools of glowing yellow.

 

On his left pectoral, acting as a badge, was the green hourglass symbol of the gauntlet.

 

Izuku opened his eyes—or rather, he willed himself to see. The world looked different. Sharper. More analytical. He didn't feel the heat of the fire. He didn't feel the fear in his gut. He felt... solid. Unbreakable.

 

He looked down at his hands. They were massive blocks of Taydenite crystal. He clenched his fists, listening to the satisfying shink of crystal grinding against crystal.

 

"What... what am I?" Izuku spoke. His voice was no longer the high, squeaky pitch of a teenage boy. It was deep, resonant, and echoed with a metallic, crystalline chime.

 

"What the hell is that thing?!" the Sludge Villain roared. "A new hero?! Get out of my way!"

 

The villain launched three massive tendrils of sludge like torpedoes, aiming directly for the crystal man's chest.

 

Izuku instinctively crossed his arms to block.

 

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

 

The impacts pushed him back an inch, but they didn't hurt. It felt like being hit with wet noodles. Izuku lowered his arms, staring at his crystalline forearms in awe.

 

I'm armored. I'm literally made of rock—no, crystal, Izuku's hyper-analytical mind began to race, processing the physical data of his new form at lightning speed. That device... it didn't give me a weapon. It changed my biology. If I'm crystal, I'm highly durable. Can I manipulate it?

 

He pointed his right arm at the ground. He willed the crystal to grow. To his shock and absolute delight, the end of his arm morphed, extending outward and sharpening into a razor-thin blade.

 

"Incredible..." Izuku breathed, his yellow eyes narrowing in focus.

 

He looked up at the Sludge Villain. Katsuki was staring at him, his red eyes wide with a mix of fury and confusion.

 

"Let him go," Izuku commanded, his deep voice cutting through the roar of the fire.

 

"Make me, glass-face!" the villain spat.

 

Izuku didn't hesitate. He charged forward, his heavy, crystalline feet cracking the pavement with every step.

 

The villain unleashed a barrage of attacks. Izuku dodged the first, his heavy body surprisingly agile. He caught the second tendril with his bare hand. Instead of trying to punch the fluid, Izuku visualized the crystal spreading.

 

Freeze him in place!

 

From Izuku's palm, sharp, jagged crystals erupted, shooting up the villain's tendril and freezing the sludge into a solid, immovable mass of rock.

 

"What?! Ahhh!" The villain shrieked as the crystals spread up his arm, locking his fluid form into a rigid statue.

 

Izuku didn't stop. He closed the distance in a single leap, bringing his bladed arm down in a sweeping arc. He sliced cleanly through the sludge holding Katsuki, separating the fluid without harming the boy inside.

 

Katsuki fell to the ground, hacking and coughing up slime.

 

Izuku stood over him, acting as a shield. He raised both of his hands toward the main body of the villain.

 

"Let's see what else I can do," Izuku murmured.

 

He focused intensely, willing his body to expel the crystal. From his palms, a barrage of sharp, diamond-like projectiles fired out like a machine gun. The crystal shards tore through the villain's fluid body, embedding themselves into the asphalt behind him and creating a cage of jagged spikes that completely immobilized the villain’s main mass.

 

The Sludge Villain let out a final, gurgling wail before realizing it was trapped, skewered and pinned by dozens of indestructible crystal formations.

 

Silence fell over Tatooin Station. The only sound was the crackling of the dying fires.

 

Izuku stood tall, his chest heaving slightly, though he realized he didn't actually need to breathe. He had done it. He had fought a villain. He had saved Katsuki.

 

He looked down at his crystalline hands. The power he wielded in this form was astronomical.

 

Before he could celebrate, the Pro Heroes finally shook off their shock and swarmed the area. Death Arms grabbed the Sludge Villain, taking advantage of its crystallized state to begin safely bagging it. Kamui Woods used his branches to put out the remaining fires.

 

"Hey! You!"

 

Izuku turned. Mt. Lady, Death Arms, and Kamui Woods were approaching him, their expressions a mix of awe and stern reprimand.

 

"Who are you?" Kamui Woods demanded, narrowing his eyes. "You're unregistered. Using a Quirk of that magnitude in public without a license is a serious violation of the law!"

 

"I... uh..." Izuku stammered, his deep, resonant voice wavering as his natural anxiety bled through the alien form. "I didn't mean to! I just... I had to save him!"

 

Katsuki, still coughing on the ground, looked up at the towering crystal giant. "Who... who the hell are you?"

 

Izuku opened his mouth to reply, to say it was him, Deku.

 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

 

The hourglass symbol on Izuku's chest suddenly flashed from green to a stark, warning red.

 

"Uh oh," Izuku said.

 

A blinding flash of red light erupted from the symbol, engulfing him once again. The heroes shielded their eyes. Katsuki squinted through the glare.

 

When the light faded, the towering, indestructible crystal giant was gone.

 

In its place, wearing a scorched middle school uniform, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, stood Izuku Midoriya. The bulky, slate-gray device on his wrist was now glowing a dull, deactivated red.

 

The silence that followed was so profound you could have heard a pin drop.

 

Death Arms’ jaw slacked. Kamui Woods’ wooden mask seemed to widen in shock.

 

But it was Katsuki Bakugo who broke the silence. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes bugging out of his skull as he stared at the boy he had bullied for a decade for being completely, utterly powerless.

 

"DEKU?!" Katsuki roared, his voice cracking with sheer, unfiltered disbelief. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

 

Izuku looked down at his trembling, fleshy human hands. He looked at the heavy alien device strapped to his wrist. He looked at the villain he had single-handedly defeated.

 

All Might had told him to be realistic. That he couldn't be a hero without a Quirk.

 

But as Izuku stared at the red dial of the gauntlet, a terrifying, exhilarating, universe-shattering realization dawned on him.

 

He didn't need a Quirk.

 

He had an arsenal.

 

The aftermath of the Sludge Villain incident was a chaotic blur of flashing police lights, shouting reporters, and the suffocating scent of burnt asphalt.

 

Izuku Midoriya stood in the center of Tatooin Station, staring down at his trembling, entirely human hands. The heavy, slate-gray gauntlet on his left wrist felt like a lead weight, its central dial emitting a low, dim red glow. It hummed softly against his skin, a vibration that seemed to sync perfectly with his racing heartbeat.

 

"What were you thinking?!"

 

The booming voice of Death Arms shattered Izuku's shock. The pro hero stomped over, his face red with anger and exertion. Behind him, Kamui Woods was finishing wrapping the crystallized remains of the Sludge Villain in a specialized containment unit.

 

"Are you out of your mind, kid?" Death Arms scolded, looming over Izuku. "You charged into a hostage situation with zero backup, no plan, and—" The hero paused, pointing a thick finger at the bulky device on Izuku's arm. "And what the hell is that? Is that support gear? Who authorized you to use illegal, unregistered support items in public?! And a Quirk of that magnitude? You could have brought the whole street down!"

 

Izuku flinched, shrinking in on himself. "I—I didn't... it wasn't..."

 

"He's right," Kamui Woods added, walking over, his wooden mask betraying no emotion, but his tone severely stern. "There's a reason we have laws about Quirk usage. You have a powerful polymorphing ability, kid, clearly tied to whatever technology you're wearing, but power without control or a license is just vigilantism. Leave it to the professionals next time."

 

Izuku bowed his head, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He had just defeated a villain the pros couldn't touch, and saved his childhood bully from suffocating to death, yet he was being treated like a criminal.

 

"Hey."

 

A rough, gravelly voice cut through the reprimands.

 

Katsuki Bakugo stood a few feet away, wrapped in a bright orange paramedic blanket. His ash-blonde hair was matted with soot and leftover slime, and he was hacking loudly, but his crimson eyes were fixed squarely on Izuku. They weren't just angry. They were wide, confused, and filled with a profound, earth-shattering betrayal.

 

"Kacchan," Izuku squeaked, taking a half-step back.

 

Katsuki ignored the pros. He marched right up to Izuku, stopping mere inches from his face. The smell of nitroglycerin and ozone rolled off him in waves.

 

"You..." Katsuki's voice trembled, dangerously low. "For ten years. For ten freaking years, you played the victim. You played the weak, Quirkless little Deku."

 

"Kacchan, it's not what you think! I didn't know—"

 

"Shut up!" Katsuki roared, a small explosion popping from his palm and making the nearby police officers jump. "You think you're better than me?! You think you can just bust out some god-tier crystal monster Quirk and look down on me?! I didn't need your help! I had it under control!"

 

"You were dying," Izuku said, the words slipping out before his anxiety could filter them.

 

Katsuki froze. His pride, already severely wounded by the fact that he had been captured, shattered entirely at the blunt truth in Izuku's voice. Katsuki’s face contorted into a snarl of pure rage. He spun around, kicking a piece of rubble across the street. "You're dead, Deku! You hear me?! Next time we're at school, you're dead!"

 

He stormed off toward the paramedic tent, leaving Izuku standing alone under the harsh glare of the streetlamps.

 

The pro heroes eventually let Izuku go after a grueling hour of questioning. When they asked about his "Quirk" and the device, Izuku, relying on his hyper-analytical mind to rapidly formulate a cover story, lied. He claimed the device was a custom-made physical limiter he built to control his newly manifested, highly volatile Quirk. He said his power had laid dormant for years, and the stress of the attack had triggered it. The police, dealing with the paperwork of a villain attack, begrudgingly accepted the excuse of a "Late-Bloomer Polymorph," officially updating his registry.

 

It was dark by the time Izuku finally began the walk back to his apartment complex. The streets were quiet, a stark contrast to the roaring adrenaline of the last two hours.

 

Izuku walked with his left hand gripping his right shoulder, keeping the gauntlet pressed against his chest. He had tried to take it off in a public restroom. He had pulled, pried, and even tried to slip soap under the heavy metal cuff. Nothing worked. It wasn't just strapped to him; it felt as though it had interwoven with his nervous system.

 

"What are you?" Izuku whispered to the device. The red light had faded completely, returning to a dormant, slate-gray state.

 

"I AM HERE!"

 

Izuku screamed, jumping three feet into the air as a massive, muscle-bound figure burst from a nearby alleyway, striking a dramatic pose under the streetlights.

 

"All Might?!" Izuku gasped, clutching his chest.

 

Before the Symbol of Peace could say another word, a violent puff of steam erupted from his body. The towering titan deflated in a heartbeat, leaving the skeletal, blood-spitting man Izuku had spoken to on the roof earlier that day.

 

"Gah! Still getting used to the time limit," All Might rasped, wiping a trail of blood from his chin with a ragged handkerchief.

 

"All Might! What are you doing here? Did you get the Sludge Villain?" Izuku asked, his mind racing.

 

"I did. And I owe you an apology, young man," All Might said, stepping out of the shadows. The trademark grin was gone, replaced by a look of deep, solemn respect. "I saw what happened. I saw you run in there."

 

Izuku looked down at his red shoes. "The heroes scolded me. They said I got in the way."

 

"The authorities are doing their jobs. But I am not here as an authority right now," All Might said gently. He placed a large, bony hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Earlier today, on that roof, I told you to be realistic. I told you that a Quirkless boy could not stand in the same ring as the pros. I was wrong."

 

Izuku's breath hitched. He looked up, his emerald eyes wide.

 

"I am a pathetic excuse for a hero," All Might continued, his voice heavy with regret. "I let my time limit and my own fear of failure hold me back. I stood in the crowd, watching that boy suffocate, making excuses. But you... a timid, ostensibly powerless middle schooler... you were the only one who acted."

 

"I didn't think," Izuku admitted softly. "My legs just moved on their own."

 

All Might smiled, a genuine, warm expression that reached his sunken blue eyes. "That, young man, is the single most important trait of a top hero. Top heroes have stories about their school days. Most of their stories have one thing in common: their bodies moved before they had a chance to think."

 

Tears welled up in Izuku's eyes. It was the validation he had craved his entire life. It was the words he had begged to hear.

 

"You hid a magnificent power," All Might said, looking at the gauntlet on Izuku's wrist. "A transformation ability of incredible strength. Why did you ask me if you could be a hero without a Quirk, when you possess such a formidable one?"

 

Izuku opened his mouth to explain that it wasn't a Quirk, that it was a machine that fell from the sky, but he stopped. The memory of the device latching onto his skin, the sheer destructive potential of the crystal alien—if he told the Number One Hero he was wearing unregistered extraterrestrial technology, they would confiscate it. They would lock it in a lab, or worse, try to amputate his arm to get it off.

 

"I... I didn't know I could control it," Izuku lied, the words tasting like ash. "It just happened."

 

"A late bloomer," All Might nodded thoughtfully. "Rare, but not unheard of. Whatever the case, young man, you proved something to me today. You proved that you have the heart of a true hero."

 

All Might stood up straighter, looking Izuku dead in the eye. "I came here to tell you that you are worthy of U.A. High School. And, if you are willing, I want to help you get there."

 

Izuku's jaw dropped. "You... you want to help me?"

 

"You have a powerful Quirk, but from the way you collapsed after using it, your body is clearly not accustomed to the strain," All Might observed analytically. "A quirk like that, especially tied to what looks like a heavy support item, requires a vessel capable of handling the blowback. The U.A. entrance exam is in ten months. If you train under me, I will turn you into a vessel capable of passing that exam."

 

Izuku stared at his idol. The universe had taken his dream, crushed it, and then abruptly handed it back on a silver platter, completely rewired.

 

"I'll do it!" Izuku shouted, bowing deeply. "I'll do whatever it takes!"

 

 

 

The next ten months were a blur of agonizing physical labor, hyper-focused analytical research, and profound, universe-shattering discoveries.

 

All Might's training regimen, dubbed the "Aim to Pass: American Dream Plan," was brutal. He tasked Izuku with cleaning up Dagobah Municipal Beach Park, a sprawling coastline that had been entirely buried under decades of illegally dumped trash, rusted appliances, and broken machinery. The goal was to build Izuku's baseline physical strength.

 

"If your body is a wet noodle, your Quirk will tear you apart!" All Might had shouted on the first day, sitting atop a rusted refrigerator. "You must become a worthy vessel!"

 

Izuku took the words to heart, but he had his own secret curriculum to manage.

 

The device on his wrist, which he learned was highly reactive to his intent, was an enigma of impossible science. He bought a thick, leather-bound journal, marking the cover with bold black marker: Notebook No. 14: Extraterrestrial Quirks.

 

His research began in the dead of night, in an abandoned warehouse near the beach.

 

He discovered how to activate the device. By pressing a small button on the side, the faceplate would slide back, and the central dial would pop up with a mechanical hiss. The green hourglass symbol would project a crisp, holographic silhouette of a creature. By twisting the dial, he could cycle through ten distinct silhouettes.

 

When he pressed the dial down, the magic happened.

 

The transformations were not magical girl sequences. They were visceral, anatomical rewrites of his DNA. He felt his bones snap and reform, his organs shift, his skin boil and harden into scales, fur, or metal. The process took less than a second in real-time, but to Izuku, it felt like an eternity of biological evolution condensed into a single heartbeat.

 

Over the course of three months, he painstakingly cataloged his ten "starter" forms.

 

1. Diamondhead: The crystal alien he used against the Sludge Villain. Unbelievably durable, capable of projecting shards and reshaping his limbs. Weakness: Sonic vibrations could shatter his constructs.

 

2. Four Arms: A massive, twelve-foot-tall, four-armed, red-skinned giant with four eyes. His physical strength rivaled, and perhaps even surpassed, some of All Might's lesser feats. He used Four Arms secretly to move a massive rusted pickup truck off the beach in seconds. Weakness: He was a massive target, slow, and his sheer weight cracked the pavement beneath him.

 

3. XLR8: A velociraptor-like humanoid with wheels on his feet and a friction-reducing visor. Izuku clocked himself breaking the sound barrier on a desolate stretch of highway. Weakness: Poor traction on ice or completely smooth surfaces, and low physical defense.

 

4. Heatblast: A creature made entirely of magma and dark red volcanic rock. Izuku accidentally melted a hole through the warehouse floor during this test. He could absorb fire, fly by projecting flames behind him, and create constructs of fire. Weakness: Water extinguished him, leaving him highly vulnerable and effectively paralyzed until he dried.

 

5. Upgrade: A Galvanic Mechamorph. A techno-organic entity with skin like black liquid metal with glowing green circuitry. He could merge with any technology, enhancing it far beyond its original design. Izuku merged with a broken radio and turned it into a satellite communications array capable of intercepting police scanners worldwide. Weakness: Corrosive acids and electromagnetic pulses.

 

6. Grey Matter: A bipedal frog-like creature barely five inches tall. At first, Izuku thought this was a useless form, until the transformation completed. The moment he became Grey Matter, Izuku’s already impressive intellect expanded to god-like proportions. He understood quantum mechanics, multidimensional string theory, and the exact atomic makeup of the rust on the beach. Weakness: He was five inches tall and could be stepped on.

 

7. Wildmutt: A giant, orange, furred beast resembling a cross between a lion and a gorilla, completely lacking eyes. He relied entirely on a complex system of echolocation and enhanced olfactory senses. Weakness: Vulnerable to high-pitched noises and overwhelmingly strong scents, which blinded his radar.

 

8. Stinkfly: A massive, four-winged insectoid that smelled like a rotting corpse. He could fly with incredible agility and shoot highly adhesive, flammable slime from his eyestalks and mouth. Weakness: If his wings got wet, he couldn't fly.

 

9. Ghostfreak: This form terrified Izuku. A spectral entity wrapped in a second skin, with a single purple eye that could move along tracks on his body. He possessed intangibility, invisibility, and the ability to possess living beings. But when Izuku was Ghostfreak, he felt... cold. He felt a lingering, sinister presence in the back of his mind, like he wasn't entirely alone in his own head. He noted in his journal to avoid using this form unless absolutely necessary.

 

10. Ripjaws: An aquatic predator with a massive, anglerfish-like jaw and a mermaid-like tail that formed in the water. He possessed incredible bite force and underwater agility. Weakness: He suffocated in open air within minutes. Izuku almost passed out in the warehouse trying to test this form before forcefully timing out.

 

Through grueling trial and error, Izuku discovered the device's absolute limitations.

 

It was not infinite. He had exactly ten minutes per transformation. Once the ten minutes were up, the hourglass symbol would flash red and emit a rapid beeping sound, forcefully reverting him to human form. Afterward, the device entered a "Recharge Mode," turning red. It took anywhere from five to fifteen minutes to recharge, depending on how much energy he expended.

 

Furthermore, the dial was frustratingly sensitive. Sometimes he would dial XLR8, slam the watch down, and find himself as Grey Matter. He deduced that the device relied on precise biometric intent and physical input. In the heat of battle, a sloppy slap of the dial could result in a catastrophic mistransformation.

 

"You're relying too much on your Quirk!" All Might yelled one crisp autumn morning on Dagobah beach.

 

Izuku had just transformed into Four Arms to haul a massive, rusted industrial air conditioner to the dump truck.

 

The gauntlet beeped red, and in a flash of light, Izuku reverted, collapsing onto the sand, gasping for breath. The sudden shift from a twelve-foot tetramand to a scrawny human teenager always gave him intense vertigo.

 

"I know, All Might," Izuku panted, wiping sweat from his brow. "But the exam..."

 

"The exam tests your entire being!" All Might marched over, handing Izuku a water bottle. "Your Quirk is phenomenal. I've seen you manipulate fire, move at supersonic speeds, and lift weights that rival Pro Heroes. But I also see what happens when the light turns red."

 

All Might pointed a stern finger at Izuku's chest. "When you lose your form, you are completely vulnerable. If you do not train your base body to be a fortress, a smart villain will simply wait out your time limit and crush you. You must be a hero before you press that button, Midoriya."

 

Izuku stared at the gauntlet, then up at All Might. He was right. The alien forms were a crutch. If he wanted to truly master the device, he had to be strong enough to survive the downtime.

 

"Right!" Izuku stood up, cracking his knuckles. "Let's get back to work!"

 

 

 

Ten months later. The day of the U.A. Entrance Exam.

 

Dagobah Beach was pristine. The morning sun reflected beautifully off the clear ocean water, illuminating a sprawling stretch of clean white sand. At the center of the beach, standing triumphantly atop the last remaining piece of trash—a small, rusted microwave—was Izuku Midoriya.

 

He was shirtless, his chest heaving with exertion. He wasn't monstrously huge like All Might, but his body had undergone a radical transformation. The scrawny, trembling boy was gone. In his place was a teenager with tightly coiled, dense musculature. His abs were defined, his arms roped with lean muscle, and a newfound confidence radiated from his posture.

 

The gauntlet on his left arm, which used to look far too large for him, now looked like it belonged there, resting comfortably against his defined forearm.

 

All Might stood on the boardwalk, a proud, watery smile on his skeletal face. "Excellent work, young Midoriya. You exceeded my expectations. You didn't just clean the beach; you terraformed it."

 

Izuku jumped down, quickly pulling on his middle school uniform. "I couldn't have done it without you, All Might."

 

"No. You did the heavy lifting," All Might chuckled. "Now, the exam begins in two hours. Go home, shower, eat a hearty breakfast, and get to U.A. Do not let your nerves best you. You are ready."

 

Izuku nodded firmly, his emerald eyes blazing with determination. "I am."

 

 

 

Standing before the towering, H-shaped glass arches of U.A. High School, Izuku felt his newly built confidence waver slightly. The sheer scale of the institution was intimidating. Thousands of hopeful students were swarming the gates, all of them possessing incredible, innate Quirks.

 

Izuku adjusted the strap of his backpack. He wore a long-sleeved black compression shirt beneath his uniform to hide the gauntlet. He didn't want to draw unnecessary attention before the exam even began.

 

"Out of my way, Deku!"

 

A harsh shoulder bumped past him. Katsuki Bakugo stormed ahead, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture aggressive.

 

Izuku froze out of habit, but he didn't cower. Over the last ten months, Katsuki had actively avoided him, likely out of sheer confusion and lingering intimidation from the Diamondhead incident.

 

"Morning, Kacchan," Izuku said, keeping his voice level.

 

Katsuki stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. He took in Izuku's new physique, his eyes narrowing slightly. He scoffed, looking away. "Don't think just because you got a sudden, flashy Quirk that you're better than me. I'm going to crush this exam and crush you."

 

Katsuki walked away. Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Progress.

 

As Izuku took his first step toward the doors, his foot caught on an uneven paving stone. He pitched forward, bracing for an embarrassing faceplant.

 

Instead of hitting the concrete, he stopped dead in mid-air. He felt a strange sensation of weightlessness.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Izuku looked to his left. A girl with short, bobbed brown hair and permanent pink blush on her cheeks was holding him up with one hand, a cheerful smile on her face.

 

"I used my Quirk on you! Sorry for doing it without asking, but it would be bad luck if you fell right before the exam, right?" She carefully righted him, placing his feet back on the ground and pressing her fingertips together to release the zero-gravity effect.

 

Izuku's face erupted into a brilliant shade of crimson. He hadn't spoken to a girl outside of his mother in... well, ever. "I, uh, I'm... yes! Thank you! Good luck!" he stammered, bowing awkwardly.

 

The girl laughed, a bright, melodic sound. "I'm Ochaco Uraraka. Let's do our best!" She waved as she jogged into the building.

 

I talked to a girl! Izuku thought, floating on cloud nine as he entered the auditorium.

 

The written exam was a breeze. Thanks to months of using Grey Matter to study quantum physics and advanced calculus, Izuku found the high school-level equations laughably simple, even without transforming. He finished the test in half the allotted time, double-checking his answers.

 

Next was the practical exam orientation. The massive auditorium was packed. Pro Hero Present Mic, the Voice Hero, stood at the podium, enthusiastically explaining the rules.

 

"Listen up, listeners! You'll be conducting ten-minute mock urban battles in replica city centers! You can bring whatever you want! There are three types of faux villains stationed in each center, worth one, two, or three points respectively. Use your Quirks to disable them and rack up those points!"

 

Izuku rapidly jotted down notes in Notebook 14, muttering to himself. "Ten minutes. The exact duration of my time limit. I can't afford a mistransformation, and I can't time out early. I need an alien with high mobility, immense destructive capability, and enough stamina to last the full duration."

 

"Excuse me!" A tall, muscular boy with glasses and meticulously combed blue hair stood up abruptly, pointing rigidly at Present Mic. "On the printout, there are four types of villains! If this is a misprint, then U.A., the top hero academy in Japan, should be ashamed!"

 

The boy then turned, pointing his rigid arm directly at Izuku. "And you, with the curly hair! You've been muttering this entire time! It's highly distracting! If you're here on a pleasure trip, then leave immediately!"

 

The auditorium snickered.

 

Izuku felt his face heat up. "Sorry," he mumbled, covering his mouth.

 

Present Mic waved his hands. "Okay, okay, Examinee Number 7111! Thanks for the great message! The fourth villain type is worth zero points! It's an obstacle. There's one in every battle center. It's not impossible to defeat, but there's no reason to. My advice? Run away from it!"

 

A massive obstacle worth zero points, Izuku noted. Avoid at all costs. Focus on point accumulation.

 

 

 

Battle Center B was a breathtaking feat of engineering. It was a massive, walled-off replica of a bustling metropolis, complete with skyscrapers, alleyways, and paved roads.

 

Izuku stood at the back of the massive crowd of applicants gathered before the giant, steel gates. He had rolled up the left sleeve of his tracksuit, fully exposing the slate-gray gauntlet. A few students cast curious glances at the device, but most were too focused on their own nerves to care.

 

Izuku took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Ten minutes. Pick the right tool for the job. Diamondhead is too slow. Four Arms causes too much collateral damage in a city. XLR8 is fast, but his attack power against heavy armor is untested.

 

His hand hovered over the device. He pressed the button.

 

Beep.

 

The faceplate slid back. The dial popped up, glowing with a brilliant green light. Izuku twisted it, cycling past the silhouettes until he found the one he wanted. A humanoid figure with a singular, circular eye.

 

"Right, let's start!" Present Mic's voice boomed from the loudspeakers.

 

The applicants hesitated.

 

"What's wrong? There are no countdowns in real fights! Run, run, run!"

 

The gates began to slowly open. The crowd of students surged forward like a stampede, activating their Quirks and yelling battle cries.

 

Izuku didn't run. He stood perfectly still, letting the crowd pass him. He took a deep breath, raised his right hand, and slammed it down onto the dial.

 

KA-CHAK.

 

The blinding emerald flash erupted, forcing several students in the back of the pack to shield their eyes.

 

When the light cleared, Izuku was gone. In his place stood a lithe, biomechanical humanoid. Its front half was pristine white, while its back and limbs were a glossy, liquid black. Glowing green circuitry patterns pulsed across its entire body, converging into a single, glowing green circle on its face, acting as an eye. The omnitrix symbol rested squarely on its chest.

 

Izuku raised his hands, observing the liquid metal shifting between his fingers.

 

Upgrade, he thought, his voice echoing in his mind as a synthesized, electronic hum.

 

He melted.

 

His physical form dissolved into a puddle of black, green-lined liquid, sliding across the pavement at incredible speed, chasing after the pack of students.

 

Inside the city, chaos had already erupted. Explosions, lasers, and elemental attacks were tearing through the streets as students engaged the green, robotic faux villains.

 

A One-Pointer tank robot rolled around a corner, its single red eye locking onto a student with a tail. It raised its turret.

 

Before it could fire, a puddle of black liquid shot across the asphalt and leaped onto the robot's chassis.

 

The student watched in horror as the black liquid spread over the metal like a virus. The robot violently spasmed. Its dull green paint was entirely consumed by black and white techno-organic armor. Glowing green circuitry etched itself into the metal. The turret elongated, shifting from a simple blaster into a terrifying, high-tech plasma cannon.

 

The robot's red eye flickered and turned a brilliant, glowing green.

 

Inside the machine, Izuku's consciousness expanded. He didn't just control the robot; he was the robot. He felt its treads as his legs, its turret as his arm. He could access its targeting subroutines, instantly identifying every other robot in a three-block radius.

 

Target acquired, Izuku's synthesized voice echoed from the robot's speakers.

 

He swiveled his newly upgraded plasma cannon and fired. A massive, concentrated beam of green energy tore down the street, instantly vaporizing a cluster of three Two-Pointers.

 

"Six points," Izuku calculated, his mind processing data at supercomputer speeds.

 

He engaged his treads, tearing down the street at sixty miles per hour. As an upgraded machine, he was a juggernaut. He blasted through walls, effortlessly tanked incoming missile fire from Three-Pointers, and utilized his plasma cannon to rack up points at an absurd rate.

 

Ten points. Twenty points. Forty points.

 

He was unstoppable. The other students were staring in awe and terror at the rogue, alien-looking tank annihilating the competition.

 

"Fifty-five points," Izuku muttered, taking out another group.

 

Beep. Beep.

 

A warning flashed across his internal HUD. The ten-minute limit was approaching. He had maybe two minutes left.

 

"Time to disengage and find cover for the recharge," Izuku concluded.

 

Suddenly, the ground violently shook. It wasn't a localized tremor; it was an earthquake.

 

Izuku swiveled his turret. At the end of the main avenue, the buildings were being pushed apart. A colossal, skyscraper-sized machine rolled into view. It was a gargantuan, humanoid robot painted in dull olive green, rolling on treads the size of houses. Its massive red eyes glowed with terrifying intent.

 

The Zero-Pointer.

 

"Less than two minutes left!" Present Mic's voice echoed over the city.

 

The sheer scale of the Zero-Pointer sent the applicants into a blind panic. They turned and fled en masse, abandoning their fights to escape the path of the behemoth.

 

Izuku prepared to disengage from his tank and flee as well. Present Mic had said to avoid it. There was no point in fighting it.

 

"Ow!"

 

The cry was faint, barely audible over the grinding gears of the giant robot, but Izuku's upgraded audio sensors picked it up instantly.

 

He zoomed in on the street ahead. There, trapped beneath a massive slab of concrete debris caused by the Zero-Pointer's entrance, was the nice girl with the bobbed hair. Uraraka. She was pinned by the leg, desperately trying to push the rubble off, but she was exhausted.

 

The Zero-Pointer's massive tread was rolling directly toward her. She would be crushed in seconds.

 

"Run away!" a student yelled, sprinting past Izuku.

 

Izuku didn't run.

 

He ejected from his One-Pointer shell, returning to his humanoid Upgrade form. He sprinted toward the girl, his liquid-metal feet slapping against the pavement.

 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 

The hourglass symbol on his chest flashed red.

 

"No! Not now!" Izuku shouted.

 

A flash of red light blinded the street. Izuku reverted to his human form, his momentum sending him tumbling across the asphalt, scraping his hands and knees raw.

 

He scrambled to his feet, gasping for breath. The gauntlet was glowing a dull, deactivated red. It was in recharge mode.

 

He was powerless.

 

He looked up. The Zero-Pointer was fifty yards away. Uraraka was sobbing, reaching out a hand.

 

I can't lift that rubble, Izuku's mind raced, panic setting in. Even with All Might's training, that slab weighs at least a ton. I need the watch. I need it now!

 

Izuku ran to her, falling to his knees and grabbing the edge of the concrete slab. He pulled with all of his newly acquired strength. His muscles bulged, his veins popped, but the rock didn't budge an inch.

 

"It's no use!" Uraraka cried. "Run! You'll be crushed!"

 

"I'm not leaving you!" Izuku screamed, his hands bleeding as he pulled against the immovable weight.

 

The shadow of the Zero-Pointer fell over them. The massive metal tread was twenty yards away. Ten yards.

 

Izuku looked down at his left wrist. The watch was still red.

 

Come on, Izuku begged, slamming his right fist against the faceplate. Please. I need you. If I can't save one person right in front of me, how can I ever be a hero?!

 

He slammed his fist into the watch again, harder this time. Work!

 

The giant tread was practically on top of them. The ground shook so violently Izuku was thrown onto his back.

 

He stared up at the mountain of metal descending upon them.

 

Click.

 

A faint, subtle sound.

 

Izuku looked at his wrist. The red light shifted. For a fraction of a second, the gauntlet flashed a brilliant, blinding emerald green.

 

The faceplate slid back. The dial popped up.

 

Izuku didn't look at the silhouette. He didn't care what he got. He just needed power.

 

He slammed his hand down.

 

KA-CHAK.

 

The green light erupted, completely washing out the shadow of the Zero-Pointer.

 

Uraraka squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the end.

 

A massive, deafening CRUNCH echoed through the city.

 

The shaking stopped. The grinding of gears halted, replaced by the terrifying whine of overstressed metal.

 

Uraraka slowly opened her eyes.

 

Standing over her, his massive feet cratering the asphalt, was a titan. He was twelve feet tall, clad in a black and white uniform, with thick, crimson-red skin. Bulging, impossible muscles rippled across a torso that possessed not two, but four massive arms.

 

The giant had his upper two hands pressed flat against the underside of the Zero-Pointer's immense metal tread. His lower two arms were wrapped around the giant's chassis, holding the multi-ton machine completely suspended in the air.

 

Izuku ground his teeth, his four yellow eyes glowing with raw, unadulterated exertion.

 

Four Arms, Izuku's mind supplied, though the thought was drowned out by the sheer, animalistic roar of effort tearing from his throat.

 

"RAAAAAAAHHHH!"

 

With a display of physical strength that defied the laws of physics, Four Arms pushed up. The Zero-Pointer tilted backward. Its alarms blared as its center of gravity was violently shifted.

 

Four Arms didn't stop. He bent his knees, his lower arms releasing the chassis to grab the tread alongside his upper hands.

 

With a final, earth-shattering heave, Izuku threw the colossal machine backward.

 

The Zero-Pointer flipped onto its back, crashing into the replica buildings with the force of a localized meteor strike. A massive cloud of dust and debris exploded outward, completely obscuring the street.

 

Silence fell over Battle Center B.

 

The applicants, who had stopped fleeing to watch the spectacle, were frozen in absolute shock. In the observation room high above the school, the Pro Hero judges stared at their monitors in stunned silence.

 

Slowly, the dust began to clear.

 

Four Arms stood panting, steam rolling off his massive red shoulders. He looked down at the rubble pinning Uraraka. With two fingers of his lower right hand, he casually flicked the ton of concrete away like a pebble.

 

He gently scooped the terrified girl up in his upper arms, holding her against his broad chest.

 

"Are you unharmed?" Izuku asked, his voice a deep, gravelly baritone that vibrated through her bones.

 

Uraraka, wide-eyed and trembling, slowly nodded. "Y-Yes..."

 

"TIME'S UP!" Present Mic's voice screamed through the speakers, signaling the end of the exam.

 

Four Arms let out a deep sigh of relief. He gently placed Uraraka back on her feet.

 

Before he could say another word, the hourglass symbol on his left shoulder flashed red.

 

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

 

The red light consumed him. The towering red giant vanished, dropping Izuku Midoriya onto his hands and knees. He immediately violently threw up his breakfast onto the asphalt.

 

The sheer physical and mental whiplash of overriding the watch's recharge cycle, forcefully transforming into Four Arms, and lifting a building-sized robot had completely fried his nervous system.

 

He collapsed onto his side, his vision blurring. He vaguely registered Uraraka kneeling beside him, calling his name. He saw the slow approach of an old woman with a syringe walking cane.

 

As Izuku slipped into unconsciousness, a single thought drifted through his exhausted mind.

 

I think I passed.

 

The letter from U.A. High School had not come in a standard envelope, but rather as a small, metallic projection disc that had clattered onto Izuku Midoriya’s desk, turning his bedroom into a makeshift theater. It was a hologram of All Might himself, wearing a garish yellow suit, projecting his booming voice and larger-than-life presence.

 

He had passed. Not only had he passed, but he had shattered the grading curve.

 

Izuku had scored zero rescue points in his human form, but the moment he had utilized the Ultimatrix—the name he had privately given the alien gauntlet based on the fragmented, dream-like visions he occasionally had while wearing it—he had changed the game. As the technopathic Galvanic Mechamorph, 'Upgrade', he had acquired fifty-five villain points. As the towering, four-armed Tetramand, 'Four Arms', he had earned sixty rescue points for saving Ochaco Uraraka from the Zero-Pointer.

 

One hundred and fifteen points. First place.

 

His quirk registry had officially been updated in the national database. Gone was the humiliating designation of Quirkless. In its place, stamped in bold letters on his ID card, was: Quirk: Poly-Morph (Late Bloomer).

 

The lie tasted bitter, but it was a necessary shield. If the government, the pro heroes, or worse, the villains, discovered that Izuku didn't actually have a Quirk—that his power came from an unregistered, hyper-advanced piece of extraterrestrial technology permanently bonded to his nervous system—they would take it from him. They would dissect it. They would dissect him.

 

So, he was a Late Bloomer. A boy whose Quirk had remained dormant due to extreme physical stress, only to violently manifest when he needed it most. It was rare, but documented. The heavy, slate-gray gauntlet on his arm? He had registered it as essential 'Support Gear', claiming it acted as a bio-limiter to keep his unstable polymorphic DNA from ripping his body apart.

 

It was a flawless cover story, mostly because the device did feel like a part of his body now.

 

 

 

The morning of his first day at U.A. High School was bathed in the golden light of early spring.

 

Izuku stood in front of his full-length mirror, adjusting the collar of his pristine gray uniform jacket. Beneath the sleeve of his left arm, the Ultimatrix rested coolly against his skin. He had spent the last two weeks practicing his dials, memorizing the tactile feedback of the watch so he wouldn't even have to look at it to select a form.

 

"Izuku? Are you ready?"

 

Inko Midoriya stood in the doorway, a tissue clutched in her trembling hands. She looked at her son—at his broad shoulders, his confident posture, and the U.A. uniform that meant everything to him.

 

"I'm ready, Mom," Izuku smiled, turning to face her.

 

Tears immediately cascaded down Inko's cheeks like dual waterfalls. "Oh, Izuku! I'm just so proud of you! When your Quirk finally came in, I was so worried, and then you started working out at the beach, and now... now look at you! You're really going to be a hero!"

 

"Thanks, Mom," Izuku said softly, walking over to wrap her in a warm hug. He felt a twinge of guilt for lying to her about the watch, but it was for her own protection. "I'll do my best. I promise."

 

The commute to U.A. was a surreal experience. For the first time in his life, Izuku wasn't walking to school with his head down, trying to avoid the predatory gaze of Katsuki Bakugo or the mocking laughter of his peers. He walked with his back straight, his green eyes taking in the towering skyline of Mustafu.

 

The U.A. campus was practically a city unto itself. Massive glass structures caught the morning sun, surrounded by impenetrable security walls. Izuku navigated the labyrinthine hallways, his eyes scanning the plaques above the gargantuan wooden doors.

 

1-C... 1-B...

 

"Ah, 1-A!" Izuku stopped in front of a door that looked large enough to accommodate a Pro Hero like Mt. Lady.

 

He took a deep breath. This is it. The hero course. The elite of the elite.

 

He reached out and slid the massive door open, half-expecting to hear the refined, sophisticated chatter of future top-ranking heroes.

 

"Remove your foot from that desk immediately!"

 

Izuku blinked. Standing at the front of the classroom, violently chopping the air with his hand, was the tall, bespectacled boy from the entrance exam. Tenya Iida.

 

"It's disrespectful to the upperclassmen who used this desk before us, and to the craftsmen who made it!" Iida scolded loudly.

 

Sitting at the desk, leaning back with his feet casually propped up on the polished wood, was Katsuki Bakugo. He wore his uniform with blatant disregard for the dress code—no tie, jacket unbuttoned, exuding an aura of pure, explosive malice.

 

"Like I care," Katsuki sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face. "What junior high did you go to, you extra?"

 

"I attended Somei Private Academy! My name is Tenya Iida!"

 

"Somei? So you're a damn elite," Katsuki chuckled, sparking a tiny, threatening explosion on his fingertip. "I'm gonna have fun crushing you."

 

Iida gasped, taking a step back. "Crushing me?! Are you truly aiming to be a hero with that attitude?"

 

Izuku stood frozen in the doorway. Of all the people to be in his class, it had to be the two scariest guys he knew. He slowly tried to back out into the hallway, hoping to enter unnoticed a few minutes later.

 

"Oh! It's you!"

 

Izuku jumped. He turned around to find Ochaco Uraraka standing right behind him, beaming brightly.

 

"The plain-looking boy who turns into the giant robot!" Uraraka cheered, clapping her hands together. "You passed! I knew you would! That punch you did to the Zero-Pointer was incredible! Like, WHOOSH and then BAM!" She mimed throwing a massive uppercut, her bobbed hair bouncing with the motion.

 

"O-Oh, hi! Uraraka, right?" Izuku stammered, his face immediately heating up. "I, uh, I passed! Yeah! Thanks for... being nice to me."

 

The classroom had gone completely silent. Iida and Katsuki had stopped arguing.

 

Katsuki's head snapped toward the doorway. His crimson eyes locked onto Izuku. The arrogant smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a scowl so deep and visceral it looked like it was physically painful. He didn't yell. He didn't spark his Quirk. He just glared, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his desk.

 

Iida marched over to the door, his rigid posture immaculate. "Good morning! I am Tenya Iida from—"

 

"I heard," Izuku said quickly, bowing politely. "I'm Izuku Midoriya. Nice to meet you, Iida."

 

"Midoriya," Iida pushed his glasses up his nose. "You realized there was a hidden mechanism in the practical exam, didn't you? The rescue points. I had no idea... I misjudged you entirely! I hate to admit it, but you are the superior student!"

 

"No, I didn't realize anything!" Izuku waved his hands frantically. "I just moved on my own—"

 

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

 

The voice didn't come from inside the classroom. It came from the floor.

 

Izuku, Uraraka, and Iida looked down in horror. Lying on the floor in the hallway, wrapped entirely in a bright yellow sleeping bag, was a haggard-looking man. He had long, unkempt black hair, heavy bags under his eyes, and an expression of profound exhaustion. He looked less like a teacher and more like a massive, depressed caterpillar.

 

The man unzipped the sleeping bag, slurping down a jelly pouch before standing up.

 

"It took you lot eight seconds to quiet down," the man sighed, stepping into the classroom. "Time is a limited resource. You kids aren't rational enough."

 

Izuku recognized him instantly, his fanboy mind pulling up obscure articles. The Erasure Hero: Eraserhead! He's an underground hero. He avoids the media completely to maximize his effectiveness in stealth operations!

 

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Nice to meet you," the man said in a monotone drawl. He reached into his sleeping bag and pulled out a stack of blue and white U.A. P.E. uniforms. "Right. Let's get to it. Put these on and head out to the training grounds."

 

 

 

The P.E. grounds were vast, consisting of a pristine track, several sandpits for jumping, and a large dirt field for throwing. The spring air was crisp, but the atmosphere among Class 1-A was suffocatingly tense.

 

Izuku stood in the middle of the pack. He had to adjust the left sleeve of his P.E. uniform, rolling it up to the elbow so the Ultimatrix was fully exposed. It was too bulky to fit comfortably under the tight fabric. Several students cast curious glances at the device, but the teacher's commanding presence kept the questions at bay.

 

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

 

"What about the entrance ceremony? Or the orientation?" Uraraka asked, stepping forward with a worried frown.

 

"If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events," Aizawa replied coldly, his back turned to them. "U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are. That's also how the teachers run their classes."

 

Aizawa turned around, holding a softball. "You kids have been doing these standard fitness tests since junior high. Grip strength, fifty-meter dash, standing long jump, ball throw. But you've always done them with your Quirks locked away. The country is still using a non-logical average to measure physical fitness. It's completely irrational."

 

Aizawa pointed his finger directly at Katsuki. "Bakugo. You finished first in the practical exam. What was your farthest softball throw in junior high?"

 

"Sixty-seven meters," Katsuki answered confidently.

 

"Try doing it with your Quirk," Aizawa instructed, tossing the softball to the explosive teen. "Step into the circle. Anything goes, as long as you stay in the ring. Hurry up. Give it all you've got."

 

Katsuki stepped into the chalk circle, stretching his arms. He grinned, a feral, terrifying look crossing his face. "All I've got? You asked for it."

 

He wound his arm back. As he threw the ball, he ignited a massive explosion from his palm, transferring the concussive force directly into the sphere.

 

BOOM!

 

"DIE!" Katsuki roared.

 

The ball shot into the sky like a bullet, leaving a trail of smoke before disappearing into the clouds.

 

Izuku winced. Die? Who says 'die' during a fitness test?

 

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa said, holding up a small digital device. "That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero."

 

He turned the screen around. It read: 705.2 meters.

 

The class erupted into cheers and gasps of amazement.

 

"Seven hundred meters? Seriously?!"

"Whoa, this looks like fun!"

"We can use our Quirks as much as we want! As expected of the hero course!"

 

Aizawa's eyes darkened. A terrifying aura seemed to bleed off the tired man, dropping the temperature of the field by ten degrees.

 

"Fun?" Aizawa repeated softly. "You have three years to become heroes. Are you going to have an attitude of 'fun' the whole time?"

 

He smiled, but it was a cruel, challenging expression. "Alright. New rule. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential... and will be punished with expulsion."

 

The silence that followed was deafening.

 

"Expulsion?!" Uraraka cried out in outrage. "But it's the first day! Even if it wasn't, that's completely unfair!"

 

"Natural disasters, massive accidents, villain attacks. Calamities whose time and place can't be predicted," Aizawa countered, his voice sharp and unyielding. "Japan is covered with unfairness. Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you wanted to go talk with your friends at Mickey D's after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra. Overcome it with all you've got."

 

Izuku swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.

 

Expulsion.

 

He looked down at the Ultimatrix. He had ten minutes. That was his hard limit. Ten minutes of active alien usage before the device forced a timeout and locked him in a five-to-fifteen-minute recharge cycle. There were eight tests in total. If he transformed for every single test, he would burn through his battery before they were halfway done, leaving him completely Quirkless for the latter half.

 

I can't rely on the watch for everything, Izuku realized, his analytical mind kicking into overdrive. All Might warned me about this. I have to use my base body for the endurance and strength tests where my new physique can keep me out of last place. I'll only use the watch for the tests where I absolutely need a high score to offset the average ones.

 

"Alright, demonstration's over," Aizawa said, putting the device away. "The real thing starts now."

 

 

 

Test 1: 50-Meter Dash

 

The class lined up on the track in pairs.

 

Izuku watched as Iida and a girl with frog-like features, Tsuyu Asui, took the starting line.

 

"On your marks... get set..." a robotic camera at the finish line chimed. BANG.

 

Iida's calves burst open with exhaust pipes, and he shot down the track like a missile. "3.04 seconds!" the robot announced. Tsuyu hopped across the line shortly after, clocking in at 5.58 seconds.

 

Izuku did the math. Three seconds. That's incredibly fast. If I use XLR8, I can definitely beat that. XLR8's friction manipulation and kinetic dampening allow for speeds far exceeding normal biological limits. But the 50-meter dash is a pure explosive speed test. If I get a low score here, it'll drag my average down significantly. I have to use the watch.

 

"Midoriya and Bakugo," Aizawa called out.

 

Izuku’s stomach dropped. Of all the people to be paired against in the first test, it had to be Katsuki.

 

Izuku stepped up to the starting line. Beside him, Katsuki was already stretching his arms, his palms popping with miniature explosions. Katsuki didn't look at him, but the hostility radiating off the blonde teen was palpable.

 

"Don't think you can pull a fast one on me, Deku," Katsuki snarled quietly, keeping his eyes on the finish line. "I don't care what kind of trick you pulled at the exam. I'm going to expose you for the weakling you are."

 

Izuku ignored him. He raised his left arm. He pressed the button on the side of the Ultimatrix.

 

Beep.

 

The faceplate slid back. The dial popped up, glowing with a brilliant emerald light. The hum of the alien technology drew the eyes of the entire class.

 

"Whoa, what is that thing?" a boy with red, spiky hair, Eijiro Kirishima, asked. "Is that a support item? Are we allowed to use those?"

 

"He's registered as a Late Bloomer with highly volatile polymorphing," Aizawa explained lazily, not taking his eyes off Izuku. "That gauntlet is a government-mandated bio-limiter. It channels and focuses his transformations so he doesn't blow himself apart. It's legally considered a part of his Quirk factor for this test."

 

Izuku twisted the dial. The holographic silhouettes flashed in rapid succession. Four Arms. Heatblast. Diamondhead.

 

He stopped on the sleek, velociraptor-like silhouette of XLR8.

 

Perfect. I just need to transform, run the dash in half a second, and immediately time out to conserve the battery.

 

"On your marks..." the robotic voice called out.

 

Izuku placed his hand over the dial. His heart was hammering against his ribs. The pressure of Aizawa's expulsion threat, Katsuki's glaring presence, and the eyes of the entire class weighed heavily on him. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, stinging his eye.

 

"...Get set..."

 

Izuku shifted his weight, preparing to sprint.

 

BANG.

 

Izuku slammed his hand down on the dial.

 

But as he did, his sweaty palm slipped slightly on the slick metal surface of the device. The dial rotated a fraction of a millimeter just before it locked into place.

 

KA-CHAK.

 

The blinding flash of green light erupted, identical to the one at the entrance exam. Katsuki blasted forward with his explosions, yelling furiously.

 

The light cleared.

 

Izuku didn't feel the sudden, exhilarating rush of elongated limbs and wheeled feet. He didn't feel the visor sliding over his face.

 

Instead, the world suddenly became massive. The starting line chalk looked like a canyon wall. The blades of grass on the edge of the track were the size of ancient redwood trees.

 

He had shrunk. Drastically.

 

Izuku looked down at his hands. They were tiny, gray, and possessed only three bulbous fingers. He was a bipedal, frog-like creature standing no more than five inches tall.

 

Grey Matter! Izuku's mind screamed. No, no, no! I mistransformed! The dial slipped!

 

Down the track, Katsuki blasted across the finish line. "4.13 seconds!" the robot announced. Katsuki landed, turning around with a triumphant smirk, fully expecting to see Izuku eating his dust.

 

Instead, the track was empty.

 

"Huh?! Where did the nerd go?!" Katsuki yelled.

 

Back at the starting line, the class was looking around in confusion.

 

"Did he turn invisible?" Uraraka asked, squinting her eyes.

 

"No, look down," Aizawa said dryly, pointing a finger at the track.

 

The class leaned in. There, standing frantically on the white starting line, was a tiny gray alien in a miniature U.A. P.E. uniform.

 

"He... he shrank?" Kirishima blinked in disbelief. "Is his Quirk turning into a bug?"

 

"He's so tiny!" a girl with pink skin, Mina Ashido, cooed. "Wait, how is he supposed to run fifty meters like that?"

 

Izuku panicked. As Grey Matter, running fifty meters would take him an hour. His little legs were simply too short. He was going to fail. He was going to come in last, and Aizawa was going to expel him.

 

But then, the panic subsided, replaced by a cold, calculating, and unimaginably vast wave of intellect.

 

When Izuku was in this form, his brain was a supercomputer. Complex physics, geometry, material science, and aerodynamics became as natural to him as breathing. He looked at the track not as a flat surface, but as a mathematical grid of possibilities.

 

Running is statistically impossible within a competitive timeframe, Grey Matter's high-pitched, squeaky voice echoed in his own mind. I require mechanical assistance. I need a propulsion system. Immediate resources available: environment and personal attire.

 

Grey Matter looked at his own tiny feet. The P.E. shoes he was wearing, resized by the watch's genetic tailoring, had minuscule elastic shoelaces.

 

Tensile strength of U.A. standard issue athletic laces is remarkably high. Perfect.

 

Moving with blinding speed, Grey Matter bent down and rapidly unlaced his left shoe. He then darted to the side of the track, scanning the environment. Near the grass edge, he found a discarded, curved piece of hard plastic—a broken piece of a track hurdle from a previous class. Next to it was a small, heavy pebble.

 

"What is he doing?" Iida asked, adjusting his glasses. "He's running off the track!"

 

"Just watch," Aizawa murmured, his eyes narrowing in analytical curiosity.

 

Grey Matter dragged the curved piece of plastic onto the track. Using his superior understanding of knots and friction, he tied the ends of his elastic shoelace to the two ends of the curved plastic, creating a miniature, highly tense bow. He then wedged the pebble under the center of the plastic to angle the trajectory perfectly at 45 degrees, optimizing for maximum parabolic distance.

 

Catapult constructed. Tension maximum. Trajectory calculated. Wind resistance negligible.

 

He placed himself in the center of the elastic band, pulling it back with all of his tiny might. He hooked his bulbous feet over the edge of the plastic base to hold it steady.

 

He looked down the track. Katsuki was staring at him like he had grown a second head.

 

Release.

 

Grey Matter let go. The elastic snapped forward with a sharp TWANG.

 

The tiny alien was launched into the air like a bullet. He flew over the track, completely bypassing the need to run. He sailed over Katsuki's head, tucking his body into a perfect aerodynamic sphere to reduce drag.

 

He crossed the finish line in mid-air, rolling expertly onto the soft grass to break his momentum.

 

"7.15 seconds!" the robot announced.

 

Grey Matter stood up, dusting off his tiny hands. Not ideal, but certainly sufficient to avoid last place.

 

He slapped the tiny hourglass symbol on his chest. In a flash of red light, Izuku was back to his normal size, sitting on the grass.

 

The class stared at him in complete, utterly baffled silence.

 

"Did... did he just MacGyver his way across the track?" an electric-blonde boy, Denki Kaminari, asked, his jaw hanging open.

 

"That was incredibly resourceful!" Iida praised, chopping the air. "To overcome a physical limitation with impromptu engineering! Truly the mind of a hero!"

 

Katsuki, however, was trembling. "What was that?" he hissed, marching up to Izuku. "You turned into a bug?! At the exam, you were a giant crystal freak! What is your Quirk, you bastard?!"

 

"Poly-Morph, Katsuki. Leave him alone," Aizawa intervened, stepping between them. He looked down at Izuku. "Resourceful. But risky. Get back in line. We're moving on."

 

Izuku exhaled a breath he had been holding. He survived the first test. But he knew he had just painted a massive target on his back.

 

 

 

Test 2: Grip Strength

 

Izuku didn't use the watch. He relied entirely on the muscles he had built hauling refrigerators and pickup trucks off Dagobah beach.

 

He squeezed the digital dynamometer. 75 kg.

 

It was a solid score for a human, vastly superior to his pre-training grip of a measly 20 kg. But it was completely overshadowed by Mezo Shoji, a tall boy with multiple arms, who casually scored 540 kg.

 

I'm banking battery, Izuku thought, massaging his wrist. I have about nine minutes of charge left.

 

Test 3: Standing Long Jump

 

Izuku used his base physical strength again. He leaped across the sandpit, landing near the far edge. A respectable distance, but nowhere near Bakugo, who used an explosion to fly over the pit entirely, or Tsuyu, who cleared it with her frog-like legs.

 

Test 4: Repeated Side Steps

 

Mineta, a very short boy with purple, grape-like spheres on his head, dominated this test by bouncing between his sticky balls at breakneck speeds. Izuku merely did his best, his new stamina allowing him to keep up a decent pace, but he was slowly slipping down the overall rankings.

 

As they moved toward the dirt field for the fifth test, Izuku pulled out his notebook, mentally calculating his standing. I'm likely in the bottom five right now. Aizawa said whoever comes in last gets expelled. I can't risk just doing 'okay' anymore. I need a phenomenal score on the next test to boost my average.

 

Test 5: Ball Throw

 

They were back to the chalk circle.

 

Uraraka stepped into the ring. She lightly tapped the softball with her fingertips, activating her Zero Gravity Quirk, and tossed it into the air. The ball drifted upward, higher and higher, until it was nothing but a speck in the sky.

 

Aizawa showed the screen. It read the infinity symbol.

 

"Infinity?!" the class gasped.

 

Izuku swallowed hard. It was his turn next.

 

He walked into the chalk circle, the softball heavy in his right hand. He looked down at the Ultimatrix on his left wrist.

 

I need a high score. I wanted to use XLR8 for the dash, but it's actually perfect for this. If I can utilize XLR8's speed, I can impart massive kinetic energy into the ball. I just have to make sure I don't slip the dial this time.

 

"Midoriya," Aizawa's voice cut through his thoughts.

 

Izuku looked up. Aizawa was staring at him, his eyes glowing a menacing, vibrant red. The gray scarf around the teacher's neck was floating in the air, defying gravity.

 

Izuku looked down at the watch. He expected it to be deactivated, assuming Aizawa's Erasure Quirk had canceled his polymorphing ability. But the watch was completely unaffected. It still hummed softly, the green light waiting to be activated.

 

Of course, Izuku realized. Erasure only works on Quirks. It targets the Quirk Factor in human DNA. The watch isn't a Quirk. It's alien technology. Aizawa's power doesn't work on it.

 

"I saw you hesitate during the previous tests," Aizawa said, his voice cold and analytical. "You're holding back. Relying entirely on that support item to bail you out when your own physical limits fall short."

 

Aizawa's scarf shot forward like a viper, wrapping tightly around Izuku's waist and yanking him forward.

 

"Whoa!" Izuku cried out, dropping the ball.

 

Aizawa pulled Izuku until they were face-to-face. "I read your file. A Late Bloomer who needs a machine to channel his power safely. But from what I've seen, you have zero mastery over it. A slip of a finger turned you into a mouse instead of whatever you intended to use. What happens in a real fight, Midoriya? When a villain is bearing down on you and your little toy glitches? You die. And you get the people you're supposed to protect killed."

 

Aizawa unwrapped the scarf, letting Izuku stumble back.

 

"You've been given a powerful tool," Aizawa said, his eyes returning to normal. "But a tool is useless if the wielder cannot control it. I won't let a liability operate in my class. Throw the ball. Prove to me you command that power, or pack your bags."

 

Izuku stood frozen in the circle. The words cut deep because they were true. He was afraid of the watch. He was terrified of mistransforming, of the time limit, of Azmuth's warnings about the device being incomplete. He had been treating it like a crutch.

 

But All Might had told him he was worthy. He had moved on his own to save Katsuki. He had terraformed a beach. He was not a liability.

 

Izuku picked up the softball. He looked at Aizawa, his emerald eyes hardening with a fierce, unbreakable resolve.

 

"I'll show you," Izuku whispered.

 

He didn't just press the button; he slapped it.

 

Beep.

 

The dial popped up. Izuku didn't hesitate. He knew exactly where XLR8 was on the dial. He twisted it precisely three clicks. He felt the tactile resistance lock into place.

 

He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and slammed it down.

 

KA-CHAK.

 

The green light exploded, washing over the dirt field.

 

The transformation was instantaneous. Izuku's skeleton elongated, his legs snapping back into a digitigrade stance. Heavy black armor formed over his torso, while a sleek, aerodynamic blue and black suit covered his limbs. A long, prehensile tail whipped out behind him, lined with blue stripes. His hands morphed into three-fingered claws. Finally, a conical helmet formed over his head, a blue visor sliding down over his face with a sharp clack.

 

He didn't stumble. He didn't waver. He stood perfectly balanced on the rolling spheres of his feet.

 

"XLR8," Izuku's voice hissed, a synthesized, echoing distortion of his normal tone.

 

The class stared in awe at the sleek, reptilian speedster.

 

"Whoa, it's a completely different one!" Kaminari yelled. "How many forms does this guy have?!"

 

"Watch carefully," Aizawa muttered.

 

Izuku gripped the softball in his right claw. He didn't adopt a traditional throwing stance. Instead, he dropped low to the ground, his tail whipping back for balance.

 

Aizawa wants to see control, Izuku thought, his mind processing the world at a fraction of a second. XLR8 isn't super strong. If I just throw the ball with my arm, it might go a hundred meters. I need to use physics. I need momentum.

 

Izuku engaged the frictionless wheels on his feet.

 

He didn't run straight forward. He began to run in a circle, right on the edge of the chalk boundary.

 

To the class, it looked as if Izuku had suddenly vanished, replaced by a blurring ring of black and blue light. The sheer speed of his movement kicked up a massive cloud of dust, creating a localized cyclone within the throwing circle.

 

Faster, Izuku urged himself. Friction is a suggestion. Gravity is an obstacle. Surpass them.

 

He accelerated. 200 miles per hour. 400 miles per hour.

 

The wind began to howl. The dust devil grew into a roaring miniature tornado. The students had to shield their eyes and brace themselves against the gale-force winds pulling at their clothes.

 

"What is he doing?!" Uraraka yelled over the wind.

 

"He's building centrifugal force!" Iida shouted in awe, analyzing the physics of the maneuver. "He's using his immense speed to turn his own body into a massive wind-up mechanism!"

 

Inside the blur, Izuku felt the pressure building. The ball in his hand felt like it weighed a ton due to the G-forces. He was approaching the sound barrier. If he went any faster, the sonic boom would deafen his classmates.

 

Now!

 

In a fraction of a millisecond, Izuku stopped running in a circle. He planted his left foot, transferring all of the stored kinetic energy from his legs, through his hips, up his spine, and down his right arm.

 

He whipped his arm forward like a trebuchet, releasing the ball.

 

CRACK-BOOM!

 

A deafening sonic boom shattered the air above the field. The concussive shockwave blew the dust cloud away instantly, rippling the grass and knocking Mineta flat on his back.

 

The softball didn't just fly; it ignited. The sheer friction of the ball tearing through the atmosphere at Mach 2 set the leather ablaze. It shot into the sky like a red-hot meteor, piercing the cloud cover and disappearing from sight in less than a second.

 

Izuku stood at the edge of the chalk circle, steam rising from his black armor. He breathed heavily, the blue visor sliding up to reveal his sharp, alien eyes.

 

He looked over at Aizawa.

 

Aizawa stood perfectly still, his messy hair blown back by the shockwave. He slowly raised the digital device. It beeped.

 

Aizawa turned the screen around.

 

905.4 meters.

 

The silence on the field was absolute.

 

Izuku slapped the Omnitrix dial on his chest. The red flash consumed him, returning him to his human form. He stood tall, looking Aizawa directly in the eye, his expression completely devoid of the timid, anxious boy he was an hour ago.

 

"Am I still a liability, Mr. Aizawa?" Izuku asked, his voice steady.

 

Aizawa stared at him. The corner of the underground hero's mouth twitched upward into a terrifying, genuine smile. "No. You're a problem child. Get back in line."

 

The class erupted.

 

"Over nine hundred meters?!" Kaminari screamed, grabbing his head. "That's insane! He beat Bakugo!"

 

"His Quirk is incredible!" Mina cheered, jumping up and down. "He can be super fast, super smart, and super strong!"

 

"The sheer versatility is terrifying," a boy with a bird head, Fumikage Tokoyami, noted solemnly.

 

But one person was not cheering.

 

Katsuki Bakugo stood frozen, his eyes locked on the digital screen in Aizawa's hand. 905.4 meters.

 

He beat me.

 

The thought echoed in Katsuki's mind, tearing down the foundation of his entire reality. For ten years, Deku was the pebble on the side of the road. The useless, Quirkless nobody who trailed behind him. Even after the sludge villain, even after the exam, Katsuki had convinced himself it was a fluke. A gimmick.

 

But this? This was undeniable, raw power. Power that surpassed his own.

 

Something inside Katsuki snapped.

 

"DEKU!"

 

Katsuki roared like a wounded animal. He didn't care about the test. He didn't care about the teacher. He ignited explosions in both of his palms, launching himself through the air directly at Izuku.

 

"YOU BASTARD! TELL ME HOW YOU DID THAT! WHAT KINDA TRICK ARE YOU PULLING?!"

 

Izuku's eyes widened. He immediately reached for the Ultimatrix, ready to dial Diamondhead to tank the hit.

 

Before Izuku could press the button, a gray blur wrapped tightly around Katsuki's waist, yanking him violently out of the air and slamming him onto the dirt.

 

"Gah!" Katsuki grunted, struggling against the incredibly tight fabric. "What... what is this cloth?! It's stiff!"

 

"It's a capture weapon made of carbon fibers woven with metal wire of a special alloy," Aizawa said, holding the other end of the scarf. His eyes were glowing a brilliant, terrifying red, his hair standing on end. "Stop using your Quirk, Bakugo. It's drying out my eyes."

 

Katsuki glared at Aizawa, but he stopped struggling, realizing he was completely overpowered.

 

"We're wasting time," Aizawa said, blinking his eyes. His hair fell back down, and he unwrapped the scarf from Katsuki. "Whoever causes another disruption will be expelled on the spot. Understood?"

 

Katsuki stood up, brushing the dirt off his uniform. He didn't look at Izuku. He just kept his head down, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

 

The rest of the fitness tests went by in a blur of nervous energy.

 

Izuku finished the final tests using his base strength, making sure to conserve the last few minutes of the Ultimatrix's battery just in case Aizawa pulled another trick. He felt good. He had secured a massive score in the ball throw and a respectable score in the dash.

 

Finally, the class gathered around Aizawa.

 

"Okay, I'll quickly tell you the results," Aizawa said, pulling out a small holographic projector. "The total is simply the marks you got from each test. It's a waste of time to explain verbally, so I'll show you the whole list at once."

 

The hologram flared to life, projecting the rankings of all twenty students.

 

Izuku scanned the list from the bottom up.

 

20. Minoru Mineta.

19. Toru Hagakure.

 

He kept looking up.

 

...8. Katsuki Bakugo.

 

Izuku blinked. He looked higher.

 

...4. Izuku Midoriya.

 

He had placed fourth overall. Above Katsuki. Above Iida. He let out a massive breath of relief, feeling a weight lift off his chest. He wasn't going to be expelled.

 

"By the way," Aizawa said lazily, putting the projector away. "I was lying about the expulsion."

 

The entire class froze.

 

"It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your Quirks," Aizawa smiled, a creepy, unsettling grin.

 

"WHAT?!" the majority of the class screamed in unison.

 

"Of course it was a lie," a tall girl with a black ponytail, Momo Yaoyorozu, sighed, shaking her head. "It should have been obvious if you just thought it through."

 

I didn't think it through at all, Izuku thought, a drop of sweat running down his head. I almost gave myself a heart attack.

 

"With that, we're done here," Aizawa said, turning to walk away. "There are handouts with the syllabus and such in the classroom. When you get back, look them over."

 

As the class began to disperse, chattering excitedly about their results and the fake-out, Izuku hung back. He looked down at the Ultimatrix. It was resting securely on his wrist, currently inactive, but pulsing with that ever-present, faint green energy.

 

He had survived his first day. He had proven to Aizawa that he wasn't a liability, and he had proven to himself that he could use the alien forms strategically.

 

But as he looked over at Katsuki, who was walking alone, his head down, kicking the dirt with a frighteningly silent intensity, Izuku knew that this was just the beginning.

 

Aizawa, walking toward the teacher's lounge, glanced back at the green-haired boy. The underground hero pulled a small notebook from his pocket, jotting down a few notes.

 

Midoriya, Izuku.

Quirk Registry: Poly-Morph.

Note: The device is not a bio-limiter. It is the source. The transformations are instantaneous and completely alter his cellular structure, mass, and intelligence. My Erasure had zero effect on the device. Conclusion: He is either wielding illegal, god-tier support technology, or... it's something entirely outside the realm of Quirks.

 

Aizawa closed the notebook. Whatever you're hiding, Midoriya, I'll figure it out. But for now... you have potential.