What if Deku was the species of goliaths from Vox machina

 

The scratching of a pencil is, under normal circumstances, a quiet, unremarkable sound. In the stifling afternoon quiet of Aldera Junior High’s third-year classroom, however, it seemed exceptionally loud.

 

Scratch. Scratch. Pause. Scratch.

 

The pencil itself was a standard, yellow No. 2, meant for the hands of ordinary adolescents. But the hand holding it was anything but ordinary. It was massive—a sprawling, thick-fingered appendage roughly the size of a catcher’s mitt. The skin was not the soft peach or tan of a typical Japanese teenager, but a deep, stony ash-gray. Running along the back of the hand, climbing up the thick, corded muscles of the forearm, were naturally occurring dermal bone plates. They were flat, coin-sized discs of hardened calcium and keratin, a dark slate in color, overlapping slightly like the scales of a mythical drake or the armor of a mountain troll.

 

These were lithoderms. And they belonged to Izuku Midoriya.

 

At fourteen years old, Izuku was a staggering seven feet, two inches tall. He weighed just north of three hundred and fifty pounds, and not a single ounce of it was fat. He was built like a siege engine. His shoulders were impossibly broad, stretching the reinforced fabric of his custom-tailored black school uniform to its absolute limits. Beneath the collar of his shirt, intricate, symmetrical dark markings—resembling ancient tribal tattoos—swept up the thick column of his neck and across his prominent jawline. His ears were long, swept back, and tapered to sharp points, twitching slightly at the ambient sounds of the classroom.

 

If one were to look at him sitting at his desk—a reinforced steel-and-oak monstrosity bolted to the floor at the very back of the classroom to prevent him from blocking anyone’s view—they would assume they were looking at a terrifying villain, a brute, a warlord born of fantasy and nightmare.

 

And yet, the terrifying warlord was currently hunched over, his massive shoulders curled inward to make himself look as small as physically possible.

 

“...so if Mt. Lady were to optimize her gigantification to prioritize structural integrity over maximum height, she could potentially mitigate the collateral damage to nearby roadways,” Izuku muttered, his voice a deep, rumbling baritone that he desperately tried to keep at a whisper. “Though, the kinetic force of a single step at full height generates roughly four tons of pressure per square meter, so perhaps a shock-absorbing boot support item would be…”

 

He pressed a bit too hard.

Snap.

 

The graphite tip of the pencil shattered against the paper of his Hero Analysis for the Future: Vol. 13 notebook.

 

Izuku let out a long, heavy sigh that sounded like wind rushing through a mountain cavern. His brow furrowed in distress. He carefully pinched the broken pencil between his massive thumb and forefinger, setting it down as though handling a fragile pane of glass. He reached into his pencil case—which was actually an industrial-sized toolbox he had repurposed—and retrieved another one.

 

To Izuku’s immediate right, a classmate named Tanaka was nervously erasing an error on his worksheet. In his frantic rubbing, the eraser slipped from his hand, bouncing across the floor and rolling to a stop directly against the toe of Izuku’s custom-made, size 22 red sneaker.

 

Tanaka froze. The blood drained from his face.

 

Slowly, deliberately, Izuku leaned down. His joints didn't pop; they glided with terrifying, smooth power. His massive, gray hand scooped up the tiny pink eraser. Izuku sat back up and turned to Tanaka. Wanting to be polite, Izuku offered what he believed was a reassuring, friendly smile.

 

Unfortunately for Tanaka, when a seven-foot-tall behemoth with solid, pupil-less white eyes and slate-gray skin smiles at you, it does not look friendly. It looks like a predator bearing its teeth before a meal.

 

“H-Here you go, Tanaka-kun,” Izuku whispered, placing the eraser gently on the boy's desk.

 

Tanaka swallowed hard, his hands trembling. “T-Thank you, Midoriya. P-Please don't eat me.”

 

Izuku’s smile instantly melted into an expression of profound, comical sorrow. “I’m a vegetarian on weekdays!” he tried to whisper defensively, but Tanaka had already turned back to his desk, rigid with fear.

 

Izuku slumped in his reinforced chair, a familiar ache settling in his chest. It’s always like this, he thought, his solid white eyes downcast.

 

In the modern era of Quirks, roughly eighty percent of the global population possessed some sort of superhuman ability or physical mutation. Heteromorphic traits were incredibly common. There were people with animal heads, extra limbs, skin made of wood or stone, and eyes that defied biological sense. Yet, even among the bizarre tapestry of modern humanity, Izuku stood out.

 

His Quirk registration simply read: Goliath Physiology.

 

According to the doctors, it was an incredibly rare, recessive genetic throwback. Millennia ago, long before the dawn of Quirks, there were rumors of secluded, mountain-dwelling tribes. Giant, gray-skinned warriors who carved their homes into the frozen peaks of the world, living by strict codes of honor and brute survival. As Quirks emerged and the world integrated, these bloodlines thinned, blending into the rest of humanity until they were nothing more than a myth.

 

Neither of Izuku's parents looked like him. His mother, Inko, was a short, plump woman with a minor telekinetic quirk. His father, Hisashi, who worked overseas, was a relatively average man who could breathe fire. But somehow, the ancient genetic dice had rolled a perfect combination, and Izuku had been born a true Goliath.

 

It was an isolating existence. The world was simply not built for him. Doorframes were hazards. Chairs were fragile traps. Utensils were maddeningly tiny. But worse than the physical inconveniences was the way people looked at him. They saw a monster. They saw an unstoppable, mindless brute.

 

They didn't see the boy who cried during sad commercials, who meticulously studied hero support items, and who worshipped the Symbol of Peace, All Might, with a devotion that bordered on religious. Izuku didn't want to be a warlord. He wanted to be a hero who saved people with a smile.

 

"Alright, settle down, class!" Mr. Chiba, their homeroom teacher, stood at the front of the room, slapping a stack of papers against his podium. "You're all third-years now, so it's time to start thinking seriously about your futures! I'm going to pass out these career aptitude forms, but..."

 

The teacher paused, a smirk crossing his face. He dramatically threw the stack of papers over his shoulder. They scattered like snow across the front row.

 

"...but I know you all want to go to the hero track anyway!"

 

The classroom erupted. Quirks flared to life—students stretched their necks, fired small lasers from their fingers, and cheered. Izuku offered a small, hesitant pump of his massive fist, careful not to hit the ceiling.

 

"Yes, yes, you all have wonderful Quirks," Mr. Chiba said, waving them down. "But remember, using your powers in school is against the rules."

 

"Hey, teach!"

 

The voice was arrogant, loud, and dripped with a terrifying confidence. Izuku flinched, his pointed ears pinning back flat against his gray hair.

 

Katsuki Bakugo leaned back in his chair, his feet kicked up onto his desk. "Don't lump me in with these background characters. I'm not gonna be stuck at the bottom with the rest of these rejects."

 

The class immediately erupted into angry shouts.

"You think you're better than us, Katsuki?!"

"Background characters?! Who are you calling a reject?!"

 

Bakugo merely scoffed, small explosions popping and crackling in the palms of his hands like firecrackers. "Bring it on, extras! I'll take you all on!"

 

Mr. Chiba sighed, checking his clipboard. "Ah, Bakugo. You're aiming for U.A. High School, aren't you?"

 

The classroom fell dead silent. U.A. was the most prestigious hero academy in the nation. Its acceptance rate was abysmal. To even apply required a level of arrogance, but to actually believe you could get in required something else entirely.

 

"The national school?!" someone whispered.

"I heard the cutoff score this year is seventy-nine!"

 

Bakugo jumped up onto his desk, his chest puffed out. "That's exactly why you extras are just stepping stones! I aced the mock exams! I'm the only one at this crappy middle school who has a chance! I'm going to surpass All Might and become the top hero, and I'll be carving my name into the annals of history!"

 

"Oh," Mr. Chiba muttered, scanning the rest of the clipboard. "Midoriya, you're applying for U.A. too, right?"

 

Time stopped.

 

Izuku froze, his massive pencil slipping from his fingers. The silence in the classroom was so profound that Izuku could hear the frantic beating of his own enormous heart. Every single head turned toward the back corner of the room.

 

For a second, nobody spoke. They just stared at the seven-foot-tall, three-hundred-and-fifty-pound wall of gray muscle and bone.

 

Then, Bakugo’s head slowly snapped around. His crimson eyes locked onto Izuku, filled with a rage so hot it seemed to distort the air around him.

 

"Deku."

 

It wasn't a shout. It was a low, lethal growl.

 

Before the teacher could even react, Bakugo lunged. He propelled himself off his desk using an explosion, crossing the classroom in a millisecond. He slammed his right palm directly down onto the center of Izuku's reinforced steel desk.

 

BOOM!

 

A massive, fiery explosion detonated in the back of the classroom. Smoke billowed out, smelling of scorched metal, burning ozone, and sweet nitroglycerin. The shockwave rattled the windows and sent Tanaka tumbling out of his chair with a shriek.

 

As the smoke slowly cleared, the destruction became visible. The steel desk, designed to hold three hundred pounds, was warped, blackened, and partially melted.

 

Sitting behind it, completely unharmed, was Izuku.

 

Bakugo's explosive palm was pressed directly against the thick, muscular forearm Izuku had reflexively brought up to protect his face. The intense heat of the blast had singed the sleeve of Izuku's uniform, burning it away to reveal the gray skin beneath. The lithoderms on Izuku’s arm were glowing with a faint, dull red heat from absorbing the explosion, but the skin itself wasn't even blistered.

 

To a Goliath, fire and heat were trivial. They were born of the unforgiving peaks, adapted to survive extreme elements. Bakugo's middle-school-level explosions felt like little more than a hot gust of wind against Izuku's natural armor.

 

But Izuku didn't act invincible. Instead, he was trembling.

 

"K-Kacchan!" Izuku squeaked, pressing his back against the wall, trying to shrink away. Huge, comical anime tears the size of golf balls began cascading out of his pupil-less white eyes, streaming down his gray cheeks and splashing onto his ruined desk. "I-I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to compete with you! I swear!"

 

"Listen to me, you massive freak," Bakugo hissed, his voice trembling with fury. He ignored the fact that he was craning his neck up just to look Izuku in the eye while Izuku was sitting down. "You think because you're built like a damn brick wall that you can look down on me?! You don't have a real Quirk! You're just a giant, stupid, quirkless anomaly!"

 

"I-It's not like that!" Izuku cried, waving his massive hands frantically. "I don't look down on you, Kacchan! You're amazing! I just... I've wanted to be a hero since I was little. It's... it's just a dream. There's no harm in trying, right?"

 

"Trying?!" Bakugo roared, leaning closer, another explosion popping in his hand. "What the hell can you even do?! You're just going to get in the way! You think being a giant mutant makes you a hero?! You're a villain waiting to happen, Deku! The hero course would chew you up and spit you out!"

 

Izuku flinched, the words striking deeper than any physical blow ever could. He looked down at his massive hands. Bakugo was right, wasn't he? Heroes were bright, flashy, and inspiring. They had quirks that manipulated elements, or granted incredible speed, or emitted radiant light.

 

Izuku just had... mass. Bone. Muscle. He looked like the monsters the heroes were supposed to fight.

 

But he didn't fight back. He never fought back.

 

It was a strange, primal dichotomy within him. His Goliath biology came with instincts—deep, ancient urges etched into his DNA. Chief among them was the concept of the Herd. In ancient times, a Goliath's immense strength was not meant for vanity or senseless violence. It was meant to protect the tribe. The old, the young, the weak.

 

To Izuku's subconscious, feral brain, Class 1-A of Aldera Junior High was his Herd. Bakugo was part of his Herd. A Goliath does not strike out at their own. A Goliath endures. A Goliath absorbs the pain so the weaker members of the herd do not have to suffer. Even if the herd bites, even if it rejects him, Izuku's biology and his naturally gentle heart absolutely forbade him from using his terrifying strength against a classmate. He knew, with absolute certainty, that if he actually hit Bakugo, he would break the boy in half.

 

So, the giant wept, cowering before a boy half his size.

 

"Just stay out of my way, you giant rock," Bakugo spat, turning his back on Izuku and stalking back to his seat. The rest of the class muttered, throwing nasty glares at Izuku, treating him like the aggressor despite him having done absolutely nothing.

 

Mr. Chiba cleared his throat nervously, adjusting his glasses. "Y-Yes, well. Let's get back to the career forms, shall we?"

 

 

 

The final bell of the day was a merciful release.

 

Izuku waited until the classroom was completely empty before he moved. He carefully packed his belongings into his oversized, reinforced canvas backpack. He stared mournfully at his ruined uniform sleeve. His mother was going to have to sew another patch onto it. That was the third time this month.

 

He slung the massive bag over one shoulder and ducked his head significantly to pass through the classroom door.

 

The hallways were largely empty, the setting sun casting long, orange shadows across the linoleum floors. Izuku walked in silence, his heavy, custom-made sneakers making soft, thudding sounds. He took the back exit out of the school, preferring to avoid the stares and whispers of the other students.

 

As he stepped out into the courtyard, he heard voices near the koi pond.

 

"...yeah, did you see the freak cry? It's pathetic."

 

Izuku paused. He peeked around the corner of the building. Bakugo and two of his lackeys were standing by the railing of the small decorative bridge overlooking the pond. In Bakugo's hand was Izuku's Hero Analysis notebook. He must have snatched it from the desk during the chaos of packing up.

 

"He really thinks he can get into U.A. just by being big," one of the lackeys sneered. "Hey, Bakugo, what are you gonna do with that?"

 

Bakugo scowled at the notebook. Without a word, he slammed his palms together, sandwiching the notebook between them. A muffled explosion went off. When Bakugo pulled his hands apart, the notebook was a scorched, blackened mess.

 

Izuku felt a pang of sorrow in his massive chest. He had spent months on those notes.

 

With a casual flick of his wrist, Bakugo tossed the ruined notebook over the railing. It splashed into the koi pond below.

 

"Most top-tier heroes have stories about their school days," Bakugo said, his voice cold and arrogant, echoing off the brick walls of the courtyard. "They always talk about how they were the only ones from their mediocre middle schools to make it to the big leagues. I'm going to be the only one from Aldera. That giant freak isn't going to taint my origin story."

 

Bakugo turned, walking away with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his lackeys trailing behind like remoras on a shark.

 

Izuku stood frozen behind the corner, his large hands clenching into fists. The lithoderms on his knuckles ground together with a sound like two river stones rubbing against each other.

 

He waited until they were completely gone before stepping out. He lumbered over to the bridge and looked down. The koi fish were nibbling at the scorched edges of his notebook, mistaking the paper for food.

 

"That's not food, guys," Izuku murmured, his deep voice vibrating with melancholy.

 

He didn't need to use the stairs. He simply gripped the railing and lowered himself down the embankment, his massive frame navigating the drop with surprising, heavy grace. He crouched by the water's edge, a giant gray gargoyle brooding over a tiny pool. He reached into the water, his thick fingers carefully retrieving the soggy, ruined notebook.

 

He held it in his palms, watching the water drip from the charred pages.

 

“You’re a villain waiting to happen, Deku.”

 

Bakugo’s words echoed in his mind. Izuku closed his solid white eyes. Was it true? When he looked in the mirror, he didn't see a hero. He saw a monster. His Quirk—his entire existence—was fundamentally built for violence. Goliaths were made to crush, to break, to survive extreme punishment. They weren't made to rescue cats from trees or smile reassuringly at civilians.

 

But Izuku's heart was so full of love for the world. Every time he saw a hero on the news, every time he saw All Might raise a fist in triumph and declare, “I am here!”, Izuku’s soul burned with a desperate, overwhelming need to do the same. He wanted to be a shield. He wanted to use this cursed, monstrous body to stand between the innocent and the darkness.

 

"I have to try," Izuku whispered to the empty courtyard, clutching the ruined notebook to his broad chest. "Even if I'm just a giant. Even if everyone laughs. I have to try."

 

With a heavy, rumbling sigh, Izuku stood up to his full height. He placed the wet notebook into a plastic bag he kept in his backpack for emergencies, slung the bag over his shoulder, and began the long walk home.

 

 

 

The route from Aldera Junior High to the Midoriya apartment was a familiar, winding path through the dense urban sprawl of Musutafu. Usually, Izuku took the main streets. He liked the hustle and bustle, even if he had to constantly weave and dodge to avoid stepping on people or bumping his head on low-hanging shop signs.

 

Today, however, he was not in the mood for the stares. He wasn't in the mood for mothers pulling their children closer as he walked by, or police officers eyeing him suspiciously, their hands hovering near their batons.

 

He decided to take a shortcut.

 

There was an old, concrete underpass that cut beneath the local train tracks. It was dark, covered in graffiti, and always smelled faintly of damp moss and old garbage. Most people avoided it, preferring the well-lit crosswalk a block over. For Izuku, it was a quiet sanctuary.

 

As he stepped into the cool shade of the tunnel, his sweeping, pointed ears twitched.

 

The ambient noise of the city above was muffled, replaced by the echoing drip of water from a leaky pipe. Izuku walked slowly, the heavy thud, thud, thud of his massive sneakers echoing off the curved concrete walls. He was lost in thought, redesigning his ruined notebook pages in his head, calculating the optimal tensile strength for Kamui Woods' binding attacks.

 

Slosh.

 

Izuku paused. His ears swiveled backward, independently tracking the sound.

 

Slosh. Gurgle. Splat.

 

It didn't sound like water dripping from a pipe. It sounded viscous. Heavy. Like mud being churned in a cement mixer.

 

Izuku turned his massive body around, peering into the shadows behind him. "Hello?" he called out, his deep voice echoing in the tunnel. "Is someone there? You... you shouldn't be down here alone. It's not safe."

 

A wet, bubbling chuckle emanated from the darkness. A grate covering a manhole in the center of the tunnel suddenly rattled, then blasted upwards, clattering violently against the ceiling before crashing to the floor.

 

From the open sewer line, a massive, gelatinous mass began to ooze upward. It was a vile, dark greenish-brown color, completely amorphous, composed of thick, foul-smelling liquid. Within the center of the shifting sludge, two massive, bloodshot eyes and a jagged mouth full of crooked teeth materialized.

 

"A medium-sized invisibility cloak," the sludge creature hissed, its voice wet and garbled. "No... wait. Look at the size of you! A large cloak! An extra-large meat suit! Perfect! With a body this big, I could hide from anyone!"

 

Izuku took a step back, his eyes widening. A villain. A real, live villain, right here in the underpass.

 

Panic seized him. The Goliath instincts that slept beneath his skin roared to life, a sudden surge of adrenaline flooding his system. Threat. Predator. Protect. But the human side of him—the terrified fourteen-year-old boy who had just been yelled at by his classmate—froze in sheer terror.

 

"S-Stay back!" Izuku stammered, raising his hands defensively.

 

"Don't worry, kid!" The Sludge Villain laughed, lunging forward with terrifying speed. "It'll only hurt for about forty-five seconds! Then, I'll be in the driver's seat!"

 

Before Izuku could turn to run, a massive tendril of sludge whipped out and wrapped around his thick ankle, yanking his feet out from under him.

 

Despite weighing nearly four hundred pounds, Izuku hit the concrete floor hard. The impact would have shattered a normal human's ribs, but Izuku's lithoderms and incredibly dense musculature absorbed the blow with a dull thud.

 

But the villain didn't stop. Like a tidal wave of living sewage, the sludge crashed over Izuku's massive frame. It enveloped his legs, his torso, pinning his arms to his sides.

 

Then, it forced its way up toward his face.

 

The villain's fluid nature allowed it to flow over Izuku's mouth and nose. The taste was unimaginable—like raw sewage mixed with rotting meat and battery acid. Izuku gagged, instinctively opening his mouth, which was exactly what the villain wanted.

 

Thick, suffocating sludge forced its way down Izuku's throat, filling his windpipe, invading his lungs.

 

"Yes, that's it!" the villain cackled, its eyes hovering just inches above Izuku's face. "Struggle all you want! You've got a tough body, kid, but you still need to breathe! Just let it happen!"

 

Izuku's eyes bulged, the solid white orbs going wide with absolute panic. He was drowning. He was drowning on dry land, suffocating in the dark.

 

His vision began to blur at the edges. His lungs burned with the desperate, agonizing need for oxygen. He was going to die here. In an anonymous tunnel, killed by a nameless villain, before he ever had the chance to try and be a hero. He would never see his mother again. He would never prove Bakugo wrong.

 

No.

 

Deep within the core of Izuku's DNA, an ancient defense mechanism awoke.

 

When a Goliath is pushed to the absolute brink of destruction, when the mountain threatens to crush them or the blizzard threatens to freeze the blood in their veins, they do not simply lay down and die. They tap into the earth. They harden. They endure.

 

Stone’s Endurance.

 

Izuku's pupil-less eyes flared with a sudden, fierce inner light. A deep, guttural roar vibrated in his chest, so powerful it sent ripples through the sludge villain's liquid body.

 

Suddenly, Izuku's ash-gray skin shifted. The muscle fibers beneath the surface hyper-contracted, locking together with the density of granite. The lithoderms on his arms, chest, and neck expanded slightly, forming an interlocking armor of impenetrable bone. His entire physiology shifted from flesh and blood to living, breathing stone.

 

The Sludge Villain shrieked in surprise. "What the hell?! Why are you so hard?! My fluid—I can't crush your windpipe! I can't squeeze your lungs!"

 

Izuku couldn't breathe, but his Goliath lung capacity was immense. Where a normal human would pass out in forty seconds, Izuku’s massive, reinforced lungs could sustain his enormous body for several minutes without a fresh breath. He had time.

 

With a surge of pure, desperate strength, Izuku forced his right arm upward. The sludge straining to hold his arm down simply tore apart like wet tissue paper against the sheer mechanical torque of the Goliath's muscles.

 

Izuku reached up, his massive, stone-hard fingers plunging directly into the villain's viscous body.

 

He didn't know how to fight a liquid. He just knew he had to get it off.

 

His thick fingers found purchase in the sludge. He squeezed, his grip strength easily exceeding two thousand pounds of pressure per square inch. He physically tore a massive chunk of the villain away from his face, ripping the fluid apart by sheer brute force.

 

"GAAAH!" The Sludge Villain screamed in actual pain. "You little brat! That hurts! Stop fighting it!"

 

Izuku tore another chunk away, spitting out a mouthful of foul-tasting muck. He gasped for a fraction of a second, inhaling a tiny sliver of air before the villain aggressively flowed back into the gap, suffocating him once more.

 

It was a stalemate. Izuku was incredibly, terrifyingly strong, tearing the villain apart piece by piece, but the villain was completely amorphous. Every piece Izuku ripped away simply flowed back into the main body. He couldn't destroy it, and the villain couldn't crush him.

 

But Izuku's oxygen was running out. Even a Goliath couldn't hold his breath forever.

 

His movements grew sluggish. The burning in his chest shifted to a cold, numbing ache. The edges of his vision darkened to pitch black. His massive, stone-hard arms fell to his sides, the strength finally draining from his colossal frame.

 

I'm sorry, Mom, Izuku thought, his mind drifting away into the dark. I guess... I really was just a giant freak after all.

 

"Finally!" the villain sneered, feeling the boy's resistance fade. "This kid's a monster, but I've got him now. Time to take this body for a spin!"

 

But before the villain could fully merge with Izuku's comatose form, a metallic CLANG echoed through the tunnel.

 

The manhole cover that the villain had blown off earlier suddenly went flying through the air, ricocheting off the concrete wall and skittering down the tunnel.

 

The Sludge Villain froze, its liquid body trembling. It slowly turned its eyes toward the entrance of the underpass.

 

Standing in the silhouette of the afternoon sun was a towering figure. He was massive, easily standing over seven feet tall, dressed in baggy, civilian clothes that barely contained his impossibly bulging musculature.

 

"Have no fear, you overgrown puddle," a voice boomed, echoing through the concrete tunnel with the force of a thunderclap.

 

The figure stepped forward, the shadows peeling away to reveal a sharp, chiseled face with a brilliant, blinding smile. Two tufts of blonde hair stood up like the antennae of a great insect.

 

"For I am here!"

 

The Sludge Villain panicked. "All Might?!" it shrieked, instantly abandoning its attempt to possess Izuku. It drew back into a massive, towering wave of sludge, rearing up to strike the newcomer. "No! I won't let you—!"

 

All Might didn't even flinch. He planted his right foot into the concrete, shattering the ground beneath his shoe. He drew his right fist back, the muscles in his arm expanding to absurd proportions.

 

"TEXAS..." All Might roared, lunging forward with a speed that defied logic. "...SMASH!"

 

He didn't even make physical contact with the villain. He punched the air itself.

 

The sheer kinetic force of the punch compressed the air molecules in the tunnel, creating a localized hurricane. A massive shockwave tore through the underpass. The wind pressure was so intense it literally blew the Sludge Villain apart at the molecular level, scattering the green sludge across the walls, ceiling, and floor in a million tiny droplets.

 

The wind howled, violently whipping Izuku's limp body across the concrete floor until he slammed into the far wall.

 

Then, silence fell over the tunnel, save for the gentle pat, pat, pat of sludge dripping from the ceiling.

 

All Might stood tall, his fists planted firmly on his hips, his white teeth shining in the dim light. He quickly reached into his cargo pants pocket and produced two empty, two-liter plastic soda bottles. Moving with blinding speed, he darted around the tunnel, scooping up the splattered remnants of the villain and securing them in the bottles.

 

"A job well done!" All Might laughed heartily to himself, screwing the caps on tight. "Now, to check on the civilian..."

 

All Might turned his attention to the body slumped against the wall.

 

He walked over, his heroic smile faltering just a fraction as he got a good look at the victim.

 

All Might was used to saving ordinary citizens. Sometimes he saved mutants. But as he looked down at the boy lying unconscious on the concrete, he felt a rare twinge of intimidation.

 

The boy was colossal. He was wearing a junior high school uniform, but he was exactly the same height as All Might himself in his muscle form. The boy’s skin was a deep, stone-gray, covered in intricate black markings and thick, bone-like plates. His chest was as broad as a small car, and his arms looked like they could bench-press a bus.

 

Good lord, All Might thought, sweat dropping down the side of his head. Is this a student? He looks like he could have eaten the Sludge Villain for breakfast. What an absolutely magnificent physique. This boy is built like a mythological titan!

 

All Might knelt down, careful not to startle the giant. He reached out and gently tapped the boy’s cheek. The skin felt incredibly dense, like tapping on a solid oak door.

 

"Hey! Hey! Wake up, young giant!" All Might called out, tapping a bit harder, using a fraction of his super-strength. Smack. Smack. Smack. "Are you alright?"

 

 

 

Izuku’s consciousness swam back to the surface through a sea of pain. His lungs ached, his throat burned, and his cheek was stinging repeatedly.

 

He slowly opened his solid white eyes. His vision was blurry, catching glimpses of bright blonde hair and a massive, shadowy figure standing over him.

 

Am I dead? Izuku thought groggily. Is this an angel?

 

As his vision cleared, the angel came into focus.

 

The massive, chiseled face. The brilliant, beaming smile. The towering, muscular frame that cast a shadow over him.

 

Izuku’s heart completely stopped in his chest. His brain short-circuited.

 

"Ah! Excellent! You're awake!" All Might boomed, stepping back and striking a heroic pose, his hands on his hips. "I apologize for the rough rescue! But I am glad you are unharmed! That villain put up quite a fight, but he was no match for justice!"

 

Izuku couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. The Sludge Villain was completely forgotten.

 

Sitting directly in front of him, closer than he had ever been to another human being, was All Might. The Symbol of Peace. The Number One Hero in the world. The man Izuku had worshipped since he was old enough to watch videos on the internet.

 

Izuku pushed himself up into a sitting position, his massive frame dwarfing the space around him. He stared at All Might, his jaw slacking open.

 

"A-A-A-A-All..." Izuku stuttered, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating with absolute shock. "All M-Might..."

 

Suddenly, without warning, the seven-foot-tall, three-hundred-and-fifty-pound Goliath clamped his massive hands over his mouth. His pupil-less white eyes squinted, and absolute torrents of tears exploded from his face like two high-pressure fire hoses.

 

"ALL MIGHT!!!" Izuku wailed, his deep voice cracking into a high-pitched sob. He curled his massive shoulders inward, crying so hard his entire body shook. "IT'S REALLY YOU! OH MY GOODNESS! I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN! I HAVE ALL YOUR ACTION FIGURES! EVEN THE SILVER AGE ONES!"

 

All Might stood frozen, his heroic smile twitching violently.

 

He had expected the boy to be stoic. He had expected a deep, rumbling 'thank you', perhaps a nod of mutual warrior respect. He did not expect this literal behemoth of a teenager to burst into hysterical, baby-like tears and squeal like a fan-girl at a pop concert.

 

The sheer juxtaposition of Izuku's terrifying, warlord-like appearance and his incredibly soft, weeping demeanor sent All Might's brain into a mild state of shock.

 

"T-There, there, young man!" All Might said loudly, awkwardly patting Izuku on his massive, boulder-like shoulder. "A true hero is always on the clock! But, uh, please, stop crying! You're flooding the tunnel!"

 

Izuku furiously wiped his eyes, smearing the tears across his gray skin. "I-I'm sorry! I'm just so overwhelmed! W-Wait! An autograph! I need an autograph!"

 

Izuku scrambled onto his hands and knees, frantically searching around him. He spotted his oversized backpack lying a few feet away. He lunged for it, his sheer mass making the concrete floor tremble. He ripped open the zipper and dug out the plastic bag containing his ruined, waterlogged Hero Analysis notebook.

 

He pulled the charred, soggy notebook out and flipped it open, desperately searching for a dry page.

 

"P-Please, sir! If you could just sign right here!" Izuku practically shoved the notebook into All Might's face, his massive hands trembling with excitement.

 

All Might took the notebook, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked at the open page.

 

It was already signed.

 

Right there, covering a massive two-page spread, was a perfect, bold, sharpie signature: ALL MIGHT!

 

Izuku gasped, staring at the signature in awe. "H-He already signed it! He signed it while I was passed out! IT'S A HEIRLOOM! I'LL HIDE IT IN A VAULT! I'LL PASS IT DOWN TO MY CHILDREN!"

 

Izuku began aggressively bowing, his massive forehead slamming into the concrete floor with thunderous CRACKS, completely ignoring the damage he was doing to the pavement. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!"

 

All Might sweatdropped, taking a step back from the bowing giant. This kid is incredibly intense, he thought. And his head is as hard as steel. He's denting the floor.

 

"Well! I am glad to be of service!" All Might declared, turning away and facing the tunnel exit. He patted the pockets of his cargo pants, making sure the two bottles containing the villain were secure. "But I must be off! I have to deliver this vile criminal to the authorities! Stay out of trouble, young giant!"

 

Izuku stopped bowing, his head shooting up. "W-Wait! Already?! But I... I have so many questions! I need to know..."

 

I need to know if someone like me... someone built like a monster... can be a hero like you.

 

"No time for questions! The life of a pro is a constant battle against evil and the clock!" All Might crouched down, the muscles in his legs coiling like massive springs. "I bid you adieu!"

 

With a mighty leap, All Might blasted off the ground, rocketing out of the tunnel and soaring high into the afternoon sky.

 

The wind pressure from the jump ruffled Izuku's hair. He stared up at the retreating figure of his idol.

 

This was his only chance. He had spent his entire life being told what he was. A freak. A brute. A villain waiting to happen. The only person in the world who could tell him the truth, the only person whose opinion actually mattered, was flying away.

 

Izuku's Goliath biology didn't give him time to think. It only gave him instinct.

 

With a surge of pure, desperate adrenaline, Izuku lunged forward. He didn't just run; he moved with the terrifying, explosive speed of a charging rhino. He hit the edge of the tunnel, planted his massive foot, and leapt into the air with all the tremendous power his tree-trunk legs could generate.

 

High above the city, All Might was enjoying the feeling of the wind on his face. Ah, another successful rescue. Now, to just drop this villain off at the precinct and—

 

Thump.

 

A massive, crushing weight suddenly latched onto All Might's right leg.

 

It was so heavy that All Might's trajectory instantly dropped, his flight path angling downward. "What in the world?!"

 

All Might looked down.

 

Clinging to his leg, wrapping his massive, tree-trunk arms around All Might's thigh, was the giant gray teenager. The wind was whipping the boy's face, forcing his lips back into a comical, terrifying grimace as he sailed hundreds of feet in the air.

 

"HEY!" All Might shouted, genuinely startled, blood spurting from his mouth for a fraction of a second in his panic. "What do you think you're doing?! Release me immediately! Your fanaticism has gone too far, young man!"

 

"I CAN'T LET GO!" Izuku screamed, his deep voice tearing through the wind, tears streaming sideways off his face. "IF I LET GO NOW, I'LL FALL AND DIE!"

 

"Oh, right! That is a very valid point!" All Might grimaced, trying to support the boy's massive weight. Good grief, he weighs as much as a boulder! My time limit is rapidly approaching, I need to land, now!

 

"I JUST HAVE TO ASK YOU ONE QUESTION!" Izuku yelled, squeezing All Might's leg even tighter, the sheer grip strength making the Number One Hero wince. "PLEASE!"

 

"Alright, alright! Just close your eyes and hold on!" All Might commanded, scanning the cityscape below for a suitable landing spot.

 

He spotted a tall, commercial office building with a flat, empty roof. Adjusting his trajectory, All Might strained against the incredible extra weight holding him down. He fired off a small burst of air pressure from his free hand to stabilize their descent.

 

With a heavy, rattling thud, All Might landed on the rooftop, his knees bending deeply to absorb the combined impact of his landing and the three-hundred-and-fifty-pound teenager strapped to his leg.

 

As soon as their feet touched solid ground, Izuku detached himself. He instantly fell to his hands and knees, his ash-gray face turning a sickly shade of green. He began dry-heaving violently, his massive shoulders heaving with every retch.

 

All Might stood up straight, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Good grief, young man! That was incredibly reckless! If you wanted to talk to me, you should have knocked on my agency's door, not hitched a ride mid-air!"

 

Izuku wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his lithoderms scraping against the concrete. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't think... my body just moved on its own."

 

He slowly pushed himself up to a standing position. As he stood, he towered slightly over All Might. But the posture of the boy was completely submissive, his shoulders hunched, his solid white eyes looking down at his massive, gray hands.

 

"Well," All Might sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "I suppose no harm was done. But I really must be going. I have a villain to deliver—"

 

"Wait!" Izuku blurted out, taking a step forward.

 

All Might paused.

 

Izuku swallowed the massive lump in his throat. This was it. The moment of truth.

 

He looked down at himself. At his thick, gray skin. At the bone plates embedded in his arms. At his sheer, monstrous size. He thought of Bakugo’s fiery explosions, of the heroic, flashy quirks on the television, of the terrified looks of his classmates.

 

"All Might," Izuku began, his deep, rumbling voice trembling with vulnerable emotion. "My entire life, people have looked at me and seen a monster. My quirk... it's just my body. I'm a Goliath. I don't shoot lasers, or create fire, or have super speed. I'm just... big. And hard to break. Everyone says I look like a villain. They say a brute like me could never inspire people."

 

Izuku slowly raised his head, his pure, solid white eyes locking onto All Might's shadowed, piercing blue ones.

 

"I don't care how much it hurts. I don't care if everyone laughs at me," Izuku said, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. "I want to save people with a fearless smile, just like you."

 

The giant boy clenched his massive fists, his voice cracking with the sheer weight of his dream.

 

"Even if I'm just a giant, freakish monster... can someone like me... can a Goliath... ever become a hero?!"

 

The wind howled across the empty rooftop, whipping All Might's clothes around his muscular frame. The Number One hero stared up at the giant, weeping boy before him. He saw the intimidating, warlord-like physique, but more importantly, he saw the desperate, beautiful, purely heroic heart beating beneath the stony flesh.

 

All Might opened his mouth to answer.

 

But before he could utter a single word, a sharp, agonizing pain erupted in All Might's side.

 

Oh no, All Might thought, his blue eyes widening in sheer panic. Not now. The time limit...

 

A massive cloud of steam suddenly exploded from All Might's body, hissing violently into the air and completely engulfing the Symbol of Peace.

 

Izuku gasped, taking a step back and shielding his face with his massive arms. "A-All Might?! What happened?! Are you okay?!"

 

As the steam slowly cleared, Izuku blinked his white eyes in utter confusion.

 

The towering, muscular god of justice was gone.

 

Standing in his place, wearing baggy clothes that now hung off him like loose drapes on a coat rack, was a skeletal, emaciated man with sunken eyes and sharp, angular features. He looked like he was one strong gust of wind away from collapsing.

 

The skeletal man coughed violently, a spray of blood splattering onto the rooftop concrete.

 

Izuku stood frozen, his massive brain struggling to process what he was seeing. He looked at the skeletal man. Then he looked around the empty rooftop. Then he looked back at the skeletal man.

 

"EH?!" Izuku screamed, his booming voice shattering the quiet afternoon sky. "EHHHHHHHHHHH?!"

 

The man wiped the blood from his chin, turning his sunken, shadowed eyes up toward the terrified giant.

 

"Well," the skeletal man sighed, his voice raspy and exhausted. "This is not ideal."

 

The wind sweeping across the rooftop of the commercial office building was entirely ordinary, yet to Izuku Midoriya, it felt as though the atmosphere itself had shattered.

 

He stood frozen, a colossal statue of gray flesh and bone, his pure white eyes locked onto the spot where the Number One Hero had been standing just moments before. In All Might’s place stood a man who looked like a walking skeleton. His clothes, which had previously clung to bulging muscles with heroic tightness, now draped over sharp, jutting collarbones and a hollow chest like a deflated parachute. His neck was thin, his cheeks sunken, and blood trickled casually from the corner of his mouth.

 

Izuku’s massive brain struggled to bridge the gap between reality and the impossible.

 

"E-E-EHHHHHHHHHH?!" Izuku’s voice tore from his throat, a deep, rumbling shout that vibrated the gravel beneath his colossal red sneakers. "Where did he go?! What happened?! Who are you?! Are you a shapeshifter?! Did you shrink?! Are you an imposter?!"

 

The skeletal man sighed, a raspy, exhausted sound that seemed to rattle in his lungs. He wiped the blood from his chin with the back of a bony hand. "I am All Might," he said, his voice entirely lacking the booming, thunderous resonance of his hero persona.

 

Izuku took a step back, his massive hands waving frantically in front of his chest. "N-No! No way! That’s impossible! All Might is a giant! He’s fearless! He saves everyone with a smile! You’re… you’re just some skinny guy!"

 

The man leveled a flat, unimpressed stare at the towering, seven-foot-tall teenager. "You know how guys at the pool are always sucking in their guts and flexing to look tough? It’s kind of like that."

 

Izuku stared. His jaw hung open, exposing the slight point of his canines. "A... A flex? The Number One Hero is just a fake flex?!"

 

"I'm not a fake," All Might grumbled, walking over to the rooftop railing. He moved slowly, every step looking like it cost him immense effort, a stark contrast to the kinetic hurricane he had been minutes prior. He leaned against the railing, looking down at the sprawling city of Musutafu below. "But this... this is the reality. The reality the world doesn't see."

 

He turned back to Izuku, reaching down to the hem of his oversized white t-shirt. Slowly, he pulled the fabric up, exposing the left side of his torso.

 

Izuku gasped, his pointed ears pinning flat against his gray hair.

 

It was a catastrophic injury. An incredibly massive, jagged scar covered the entire left side of the hero's chest and stomach. The skin was violently purple and red, puckered and twisted in a chaotic web of scar tissue that seemed to radiate outward from a central crater. It didn't look like a surgical scar. It looked like someone had detonated a bomb inside his ribcage.

 

"Five years ago," All Might said quietly, his sunken blue eyes staring out at the horizon. "An enemy did this to me. My respiratory system was nearly destroyed. I lost my entire stomach. Through repeated, agonizing surgeries, I managed to survive, but I can't be fixed. Right now, I can only do hero work for about three hours a day. The rest of the time, this is what I am."

 

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat. His colossal frame slumped forward, all the adrenaline draining from his muscles. Five years ago... "Was it... was it the fight with Toxic Chainsaw?"

 

"You know your stuff, kid," All Might chuckled softly, though it ended in a wet cough. "But no. That punk couldn't have put a scratch on me. This fight was kept under wraps to the public. The Symbol of Peace cannot be seen to be broken. If the world knew I was this weak, the criminal underworld would rise up in a wave of terror this society isn't prepared for."

 

All Might let his shirt drop, covering the hideous wound. He turned his gaze up to Izuku. To the skeletal hero, the boy looked even larger now. The sheer mass of the teenager was intimidating, an undeniable force of nature molded into the shape of a middle-schooler.

 

"You asked me a question," All Might said, his voice turning serious. "You asked if someone like you—a Goliath, a giant, a 'monster'—could become a hero."

 

Izuku’s hands clenched into massive fists. The lithoderms on his knuckles ground together with the sound of cracking stone. He braced himself.

 

"The life of a pro hero is a life of constant danger," All Might said, stepping away from the railing. "It is not just about stopping purse-snatchers or waving to the cameras. It is about putting your life on the line every single day. It is about facing down true, unadulterated evil. Your physiology... it’s incredible, young man. Your strength is staggering. Your durability is obvious. Physically, you have the tools."

 

Izuku’s pure white eyes widened. A spark of hope ignited in his chest. I have the tools...

 

"But," All Might continued, raising a bony finger, "heroes don't just rely on their bodies. The villain world is cruel, and villains don't play fair. They will exploit your size. They will use your mass against you. They will target your heart."

 

All Might walked toward the roof access door, resting his hand on the metal handle. "Can a Goliath be a hero? I cannot simply say 'yes' just because you have the strength. You need to be prepared to face death. And from what I saw down in that tunnel... you were paralyzed by fear before I even arrived. Your strength didn't save you when your lungs were full of sludge."

 

The words hit Izuku like a physical blow. He flinched, taking a heavy step backward.

 

"It's not bad to dream, young man," All Might said softly, his sunken eyes filled with a sad sort of wisdom. "But you have to consider what's realistic. If you want to use your body to save people, become a police officer. Become a rescue worker. They get mocked, but it's an honorable profession. But as for standing on the front lines, fighting villains... it takes more than just being a giant."

 

With a final, mournful look, the skeletal man opened the door and disappeared into the stairwell, leaving Izuku alone on the roof.

 

The heavy metal door clicked shut, the sound echoing with finality.

 

Izuku stood there for a long time. The wind whipped his dark uniform around his massive frame. The bustling noise of the city below drifted up to him, a symphony of sirens, car horns, and distant voices.

 

He looked down at his enormous hands. He flexed them, watching the gray skin pull tight over the shifting bone plates on his forearms. He was strong. He knew he was strong. He could bend steel rebar like a paperclip. He could shrug off extreme temperatures. But All Might was right.

 

In the tunnel, despite all his ancient, genetic power, he had been helpless. The Sludge Villain had simply bypassed his armor by attacking him from the inside. Izuku had been terrified, completely and utterly frozen by the realization of his own mortality.

 

I'm not a hero, Izuku thought, huge, fresh tears pooling in his pure white eyes. I'm just a big coward in a giant's body. Kacchan was right. All Might is right. I should just give up.

 

He reached into his massive backpack, his thick fingers brushing against the soggy, ruined Hero Analysis notebook. He pulled it out, looking at the charred cover. He had filled thirteen volumes with notes, strategies, and dreams. And it was all for nothing.

 

With a heavy, rumbling sigh that sounded like shifting tectonic plates, Izuku shoved the notebook back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

 

He walked to the stairwell door. He had to turn sideways and duck his head significantly to pass through the frame, a familiar, humiliating reminder that he didn't belong in this world. As he descended the stairs, his heavy sneakers thudding against the concrete, he resigned himself to his fate. He would look into the police academy. Or maybe construction work. Somewhere his mass would be a tool, not a liability.

 

BOOM!

 

Izuku paused on the third-floor landing.

 

The building shook slightly. It wasn't an earthquake. It was a sharp, localized shockwave.

 

BOOM! BOOM!

 

Izuku’s pointed ears swiveled, zeroing in on the sound. He recognized the sharp, concussive crackle of those explosions. He had heard them every day for years. They sounded like...

 

No, that's impossible, Izuku thought, shaking his massive head. Kacchan wouldn't be using his quirk in the middle of the city. He wants to go to U.A.; he wouldn't risk his record by causing a scene.

 

But the explosions continued, growing more frantic. Accompanied by the explosions were the sounds of sirens, screams, and the chaotic noise of a panic.

 

Izuku’s heart rate began to climb. He rushed down the remaining flights of stairs, taking them three at a time. He burst out of the building's lobby and onto the street.

 

A few blocks away, over the rooftops of the Tatooin Shopping District, thick black smoke was billowing into the sky. Fire licked at the edges of the commercial buildings.

 

Izuku’s breath caught. He remembered the Sludge Villain. He remembered All Might grabbing his leg.

 

Wait... Izuku thought, his eyes widening in horror. When I grabbed him in the air... he struggled. Did he drop the bottles?

 

The realization hit him with the force of a runaway train. If the villain was loose again, it was his fault. His selfishness, his desperate need to ask a question, had set a killer back out onto the streets.

 

Without thinking, Izuku broke into a run.

 

For a Goliath, running was not a subtle action. At three hundred and fifty pounds, every footfall was a localized seismic event. His massive red sneakers slammed into the pavement with thunderous cracks. Pedestrians leaped out of his way, screaming as the seven-foot-tall gray behemoth barreled past them like a freight train of muscle and bone.

 

Izuku didn't care about the stares. He didn't care about the panicked shouts. He just needed to know.

 

He arrived at the entrance of the shopping district, sliding to a halt that dug deep black gouges into the asphalt.

 

The scene was pure chaos. An entire block of the commercial district was engulfed in flames. Storefronts were shattered, cars were overturned, and a massive crowd of onlookers was being held back by a line of police officers.

 

Standing in the center of the destruction, laughing maniacally, was the Sludge Villain.

 

"Ahahaha! Look at all this extra power!" the villain roared, its liquid body now towering nearly three stories high. It swept a massive tendril of sludge, tearing a lamppost out of the ground and hurling it into a nearby building.

 

Standing on the front lines were several pro heroes. Izuku recognized them instantly. Kamui Woods, Mt. Lady, Backdraft, and Death Arms.

 

"We can't get close!" Kamui Woods shouted, using his wooden branches to catch falling debris. "He's too fluid! I can't bind him, and he keeps setting off those explosions!"

 

"I need a two-lane road to use my quirk!" Mt. Lady complained, standing at the edge of the district. "I can't giant-size here, I'll crush the buildings!"

 

"Just keep the fires contained!" Death Arms bellowed, his muscular frame tense with frustration. "We have to wait for someone with a suitable quirk! We can't do anything!"

 

Izuku stared in horror. The heroes are completely helpless...

 

Then, the smoke shifted, and Izuku saw the source of the explosions.

 

Trapped deep within the gelatinous mass of the villain, struggling violently, was a teenager. The boy’s ash-blonde hair was matted with sludge. His hands were thrashing, setting off massive, desperate explosions that were only fueling the fire around them.

 

It was Bakugo.

 

Izuku’s heart stopped. The world around him went completely silent. The roar of the fire, the screams of the crowd, the shouts of the heroes—it all faded into white noise.

 

All he could see were Bakugo’s eyes.

 

They were wide. Terrified. Pleading. It was an expression Izuku had never, ever seen on his childhood friend's face. Bakugo was drowning, just like Izuku had been. But Bakugo didn't have Goliath lungs. Bakugo didn't have a stone-hard body to buy himself time. Bakugo was going to die.

 

It’s my fault, Izuku thought, trembling violently. I let the villain go. And now Kacchan is paying the price.

 

The pro heroes were standing back. They were calculating the risks, weighing the collateral damage, waiting for backup. It was the logical, professional thing to do.

 

But deep within Izuku Midoriya, beneath the anxiety, beneath the fear, beneath the thirteen volumes of hero analysis, an ancient, primal voice awoke. It was a voice older than quirks. Older than cities. It was the roar of the mountain.

 

The Herd is in danger.

 

In Goliath culture, there is no hesitation when the tribe is threatened. You do not calculate odds. You do not wait for backup. If the wolf is at the door, you become the avalanche that crushes it. Bakugo had mocked him, burned his notebook, and told him to jump off a roof.

 

It didn't matter. Bakugo was his classmate. Bakugo was his friend. Bakugo was his Herd.

 

Izuku’s pure white eyes suddenly flared with an intense, blinding light. A deep, guttural roar tore its way up from his chest, escaping his lips with a sound so terrifying, so earth-shatteringly loud, that the entire crowd flinched. It wasn't the scream of a boy. It was the war cry of a titan.

 

Before Izuku's conscious mind could even process what he was doing, his massive, tree-trunk legs propelled him forward.

 

CRACK!

 

The asphalt beneath his feet shattered like glass as he launched himself past the police barricade.

 

"Hey! Stop! What are you doing?!" Death Arms shouted, reaching out to grab the boy.

 

Death Arms was a strength-enhancing hero. He possessed immense physical power. But when his hand clamped onto Izuku’s massive bicep, he felt like he had just grabbed a speeding bullet train. Izuku didn't even slow down. The sheer kinetic force of the Goliath's momentum ripped Death Arms' grip away, spinning the pro hero around like a top.

 

"Kid! You'll die!" Kamui Woods yelled.

 

Izuku ignored them. He was a gray blur of muscle and rage, charging directly into the inferno. The heat of the flames washed over him, but his Goliath biology shrugged it off. His heavy sneakers thumped against the ground in a terrifying rhythm.

 

The Sludge Villain looked down, its massive eyes widening in recognition. "You! The giant brat! You came back for round two?!"

 

The villain whipped a massive tendril of sludge directly at Izuku, intending to sweep his legs out from under him just like in the tunnel.

 

But Izuku wasn't caught off guard this time. He was fully committed.

 

Izuku didn't dodge. He lowered his massive shoulder and activated Stone's Endurance. The muscle fibers across his body hyper-contracted, locking his joints and hardening his skin to the density of solid granite.

 

The tendril struck him square in the chest with the force of a wrecking ball.

 

THUD!

 

The sludge simply splashed against his chest, completely ineffective. Izuku didn't even stagger. He plowed straight through the villain's attack, his momentum unbroken.

 

"KACCHAN!" Izuku roared, closing the distance to the main body of the villain.

 

Bakugo’s eyes widened through the murky sludge. Deku?! What the hell is this giant idiot doing?!

 

Izuku reached the villain. In a normal situation, a hero might try to blast the villain away, or pull the victim free. But Izuku had no flashy quirk. He only had his environment, and his impossible strength.

 

He looked down. The villain's explosive rampage had torn up the street, exposing the rebar-reinforced concrete foundations of the sidewalk.

 

Izuku dropped to one knee. He plunged his massive, stone-hard fingers directly into the cracks in the street. He gripped a huge, jagged slab of shattered concrete, roughly the size of a dining room table, still attached to the rebar.

 

With a roar that strained his vocal cords, Izuku stood up, using his legs and lower back.

 

SKRRRRK!

 

The sheer torque of the Goliath's strength tore the concrete slab out of the earth, snapping the thick steel rebar like dry twigs.

 

Izuku didn't throw it. He didn't want to crush Bakugo. Instead, he lunged forward, using the massive slab of concrete like a giant, improvised pry bar. He slammed the edge of the slab directly into the center of the villain's mass, wedging it forcefully between the thick sludge and Bakugo's trapped body.

 

"GET OFF HIM!" Izuku screamed, his arms bulging, the lithoderms on his skin grinding aggressively as he leveraged his entire three-hundred-and-fifty-pound frame against the concrete slab.

 

"You stupid brat!" the villain shrieked, feeling its liquid form being violently displaced by the sheer mechanical force of the rock. "I'll suffocate you both!"

 

The sludge surged, trying to flow around the concrete and engulf Izuku's arms.

 

At the same time, Bakugo, still trapped in a panic, reflexively set off a massive point-blank explosion right next to Izuku’s face.

 

BOOM!

 

The blast was blinding, hot enough to melt steel. But Izuku’s Stone's Endurance held firm. The explosion washed over his ash-gray face, singing his eyebrows and blackening his tribal markings, but his skin didn't blister. He didn't blink. He just pushed harder.

 

"Why?!" Bakugo choked out, coughing up sludge, his crimson eyes locking onto Izuku's pure white ones. "Why are you... here?!"

 

Izuku’s face contorted. The adrenaline was wearing off. The fear was creeping back in. He was struggling against a villain he couldn't punch, and he was taking explosions straight to the face. Giant, comical tears began to stream down his gray cheeks, completely at odds with his terrifying, warlord-like actions.

 

"I don't know!" Izuku cried, leveraging the concrete slab harder, finally opening enough of a gap for Bakugo to draw a full breath of air. "My legs just moved on their own! You looked like you were asking for help, Kacchan!"

 

Bakugo froze. The anger, the panic, the arrogance—it all dissolved into absolute shock. This giant freak, this boy he had bullied and belittled for a decade, had charged into a blazing inferno, ignoring pro heroes, purely because he thought Bakugo looked scared.

 

From the edge of the crowd, a skeletal man watched the scene unfold.

 

All Might stood frozen, his sunken blue eyes wide with awe. He had followed the smoke, cursing his own weakness, hating himself for being unable to act. He had watched the pros stand by, waiting for the perfect quirk, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

 

But this boy... this giant, terrifying, weeping teenager... he hadn't waited. He didn't have the right quirk. He didn't have a plan. He had simply seen someone in pain and moved.

 

“Can a Goliath be a hero?”

 

The boy's words echoed in All Might's mind. The skeletal man placed a hand over the wound on his chest. It ached fiercely, a constant reminder of his limits. But as he watched Izuku fight a losing battle, tearing up the street to save a boy who hated him, All Might felt something else ignite within him. A spark he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

 

I told him to be realistic, All Might thought, gritting his teeth, feeling the sheer hypocrisy burn in his throat. I scolded him. And yet, I am standing here, acting like a bystander. He is showing me what it truly means to be a hero.

 

Blood bubbled up in All Might's throat. He ignored it. He forced the air into his lungs, tapping into the absolute dregs of his power, ignoring the agonizing scream of his own body.

 

Pathetic, All Might thought, steam beginning to roll off his skeletal frame, his muscles violently expanding, tearing his clothes. A pro should always be ready to risk his life!

 

Back in the inferno, Izuku was losing ground. The concrete slab was cracking under the pressure of the sludge, and his Stone's Endurance was starting to slip. He was exhausted.

 

"It's over, kid!" the villain laughed, surging forward to engulf Izuku entirely.

 

But suddenly, a massive hand clamped down on Izuku’s broad shoulder.

 

Izuku flinched, looking back.

 

Standing behind him, completely ignoring the flames, was All Might. The Symbol of Peace was back in his muscular form, his blue eyes blazing with absolute fury and unyielding resolve. Blood was trickling from his smile, but he looked like a god of war.

 

"I really am pathetic," All Might said, his voice booming with undeniable power.

 

Izuku gasped. "All Might?!"

 

"I told you the traits that make a great champion," All Might roared, stepping past the massive teenager and reaching his hands directly into the sludge. "But I didn't live up to my own ideals! PROS ARE ALWAYS RISKING THEIR LIVES!"

 

All Might grabbed Bakugo by the collar with one hand, violently yanking him free from the villain's grip. With his other arm, he drew back his fist. The muscles in his bicep bulged so large they looked like they were going to burst.

 

"DETROIT..."

 

The villain screamed, trying to retreat, but it was too late.

 

"...SMASH!"

 

All Might punched downward, striking the very center of the villain's mass.

 

The resulting shockwave was apocalyptic. The sheer kinetic energy of the punch completely eradicated the sludge, blowing the villain into microscopic particles. But it didn't stop there. The air pressure created a localized tornado that ripped through the street, extinguishing the raging fires in a single, massive gust of wind.

 

The shockwave shot straight up into the sky, tearing the clouds apart.

 

Izuku had to cross his massive arms and dig his fingers into the asphalt just to keep from being blown away by the sheer force of the hero's power.

 

When the wind finally settled, the street was destroyed. The villain was splattered across a three-block radius in harmless, unconscious droplets. And above them, dark clouds were rolling in, completely altering the weather pattern. Rain began to fall, washing away the ash and smoke.

 

The crowd was dead silent. Then, they erupted.

 

"He changed the weather!"

"All Might is incredible!"

"He saved the day in one punch!"

 

Izuku slumped forward onto his hands and knees, panting heavily. The adrenaline left him completely, leaving his colossal body feeling like lead. He looked at his hands. They were scraped, bleeding slightly where the rebar had cut through his lithoderms. He hadn't won. He had just delayed the inevitable. Once again, All Might had to save him.

 

 

 

The aftermath was a blur of flashing lights, shouting police officers, and medical personnel.

 

Bakugo was sitting on the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the ground. Several pro heroes were surrounding him, praising his resilience and his powerful quirk.

 

"You were amazing, kid!" Death Arms praised, clapping Bakugo on the back. "Once you go pro, you'll be a top hero for sure! Your quirk is incredibly powerful!"

 

A few yards away, the scene was very different.

 

Izuku was sitting cross-legged on the asphalt. Even sitting down, he was nearly eye-level with Kamui Woods and Death Arms, who were standing in front of him, looking incredibly displeased.

 

"What were you thinking, kid?!" Death Arms scolded, pointing a finger at Izuku's chest. The hero was trying to sound intimidating, though he subconsciously took a half-step back when Izuku shifted his massive frame. "You don't have a flashy quirk, you're just incredibly large! You threw yourself into a hostage situation! You could have gotten yourself and the hostage killed!"

 

"There was absolutely no reason for you to put yourself in danger," Kamui Woods added sternly. "Leave the dangerous work to the professionals. Your size doesn't make you invincible."

 

Izuku kept his head bowed, his pointed ears drooping sadly. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I couldn't stop myself."

 

"Just... go home, kid," Death Arms sighed, shaking his head. "And stay out of trouble."

 

Izuku slowly pushed himself up to his feet. He towered over the pro heroes, casting a long shadow in the twilight. He offered a slow, respectful bow, ignoring the aches in his muscles.

 

He retrieved his oversized backpack from where he had dropped it, slinging it over his shoulder. He began the long walk home, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the cheering crowds who were still swarming around All Might.

 

The rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and reflecting the neon lights of the city. Izuku walked in silence, his heavy footfalls the only sound he made.

 

He felt entirely empty. He had tried. He had listened to his instincts, he had charged in to protect his Herd, and he had failed. All he had done was get in the way and get yelled at. His Goliath biology was useless.

 

"DEKU!"

 

Izuku stopped. He turned around slowly.

 

Standing under the glow of a streetlamp, panting heavily, was Bakugo. His uniform was scorched, his hair was still slightly damp from the sludge, and his crimson eyes were burning with a complex, furious emotion.

 

Izuku’s posture immediately sank. "Kacchan... are you okay?"

 

"Shut up!" Bakugo yelled, marching forward, though he smartly stopped a few feet away, craning his neck to look up at the giant. "Listen to me, you massive freak! I didn't ask for your help! I didn't need you to save me!"

 

Bakugo clenched his fists, small explosions popping in his palms. "I was fine! I had it under control! You think because you're built like a tank, you can look down on me?! You think you're better than me?!"

 

Izuku shook his head slowly, his pure white eyes full of sorrow. "No, Kacchan. I've never thought I was better than you. I just... I thought you were going to die."

 

"I wasn't!" Bakugo roared, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm Katsuki Bakugo! I'm going to be the Number One Hero! I don't owe you anything, you giant, quirkless loser! Nothing!"

 

With a furious huff, Bakugo spun around and stomped away, disappearing into the shadows of the street.

 

Izuku watched him go, a small, sad smile crossing his face. Bakugo was proud. He would rather die than admit he needed help from the giant he had bullied. But he was alive. That was all that mattered.

 

Izuku turned back around, ready to resume his walk home.

 

"I AM HERE!"

 

Izuku yelped—a surprisingly high-pitched sound for a creature of his size—as a massive figure suddenly slid out of a nearby alleyway in a dramatic, muscle-bound pose.

 

"All Might?!" Izuku gasped, stumbling back a step. "What are you doing here?! How did you get away from the reporters?!"

 

All Might stood tall, striking a victorious pose, laughing heartily. "Hahaha! Evading the press is merely a side-quest for a true hero! I simply..."

 

Suddenly, a cloud of steam erupted from All Might's body. The muscle-bound god vanished, replaced once again by the coughing, skeletal man in baggy clothes.

 

"...I simply slipped away in the confusion," Small Might finished, wiping a drop of blood from his chin.

 

Izuku panicked. "Are you okay?! You pushed yourself past your limit today! Twice! Because of me!"

 

All Might held up a hand, silencing the giant boy. He walked over, looking up at Izuku's imposing, gray face.

 

"Young man," All Might said, his voice quiet but filled with intense sincerity. "I came here to thank you. And to apologize."

 

Izuku blinked, confused. "Apologize? To me?"

 

"Earlier today, I told you to be realistic," All Might said, looking down at his bony hands. "I told you that your size and strength weren't enough. I spoke from a place of fear, projecting my own limits onto you. But today, of all the people in that crowd... of all the pro heroes with their flashy quirks and perfect tactics... it was you."

 

All Might looked up, his sunken blue eyes piercing straight through Izuku's insecurities.

 

"You, a timid, giant boy with no combat training, were the only one who acted," All Might said. "You didn't hesitate. You pushed past your own fear, you weaponized your environment, and you fought a villain you knew you couldn't beat, all to save a single life."

 

Izuku’s breath hitched. His pointed ears perked up, and his massive hands began to tremble.

 

"Top heroes have stories about them from their school days," All Might continued, stepping closer. "Most of their stories have one thing in common. Their bodies moved before they had a chance to think."

 

Izuku let out a choked sob. He remembered the feeling. The sheer, overwhelming instinct. The roar of the mountain telling him to protect his Herd.

 

"That was true for you today, wasn't it?" All Might smiled, a genuine, warm expression that didn't need muscle to be inspiring.

 

Izuku couldn't speak. He could only nod, hot tears spilling from his pure white eyes, cascading down his stone-gray cheeks.

 

"You asked me if a Goliath could be a hero," All Might said, his voice rising, carrying the undeniable weight of destiny. "You asked if a monster could be a savior."

 

All Might raised his hand, pointing directly at Izuku's broad chest, right over his massive, beating heart.

 

"You can become a hero."

 

The words struck Izuku like a physical force.

 

For fourteen years, he had been told he was a freak. He had been told he was meant for destruction, for violence, for the shadows. He had carried the weight of his colossal body, terrified of his own strength, desperate for someone to look past the gray skin and the bone plates and see the boy underneath.

 

He didn't just cry. Izuku Midoriya collapsed.

 

He fell to his knees, his massive, three-hundred-and-fifty-pound frame hitting the pavement with a heavy thud. He buried his massive face in his hands, bending forward until his forehead rested against the wet asphalt. He wept openly, loudly, a deep, rumbling wail that echoed down the empty street. It was the sound of fourteen years of isolation, fear, and desperate hope finally shattering into pieces.

 

All Might stood silently, watching the giant boy weep. He didn't tell him to stop. He simply let him release the burden.

 

After several minutes, Izuku’s sobs subsided into heavy, shuddering breaths. He slowly pushed himself up, still on his knees, wiping his eyes with his thick forearms.

 

"I deem you worthy of my power," All Might said suddenly.

 

Izuku froze mid-sniffle, looking down at the skeletal man in absolute bewilderment. "H-Huh? Your power?"

 

"My Quirk is a closely guarded secret," All Might said, looking around to ensure the street was empty. "The public believes I possess a natural strength-enhancement quirk. But that is a lie. My Quirk was passed down to me like a sacred torch."

 

Izuku’s massive brain shifted gears instantly, the hero fanboy momentarily overriding the emotional breakdown. "Passed down?! But that goes against everything we know about Quirk genetics! Quirks are biological traits, they can't simply be transferred like an object! Are you saying your Quirk is a mutation that allows for cellular—"

 

"Stop muttering, you giant nerd!" All Might laughed, though he looked fond. "Yes, it defies logic. But it is the truth. My Quirk is the crystallized power of generations. It is called... One For All."

 

"One... For All," Izuku repeated, his deep voice rolling over the syllables.

 

"It is a web of voices, a cultivation of raw power, passed from one person to the next, growing stronger with every vessel," All Might explained, clenching his fist. "I was looking for a successor. I thought I needed someone with a perfect quirk, or a perfect mind. But today, I realized what this Quirk truly needs."

 

All Might looked up, meeting Izuku’s pure white eyes.

 

"It needs a vessel with a heroic heart," All Might said. "And, quite frankly, looking at you... I don't think there is a vessel on this planet physically stronger than you are right now. Your Goliath body is incredible. It is built to endure. Built to protect. If we combine your ancient, genetic might with the boundless, cultivated power of One For All..."

 

All Might grinned, a fierce, terrifyingly optimistic smile.

 

"...you won't just be a hero, young Midoriya. You will be unstoppable. A true, unbreakable shield for this world."

 

Izuku knelt there, the neon lights of the city reflecting in the puddles around him. He looked at All Might, then down at his massive, stone-gray hands.

 

He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a villain waiting to happen.

 

He was a vessel. A Goliath, chosen by the gods of this era to carry the ultimate fire.

 

Izuku looked up, wiping the last of his tears away. His white eyes hardened, filled with a resolve as solid as the mountains of his ancestors. He didn't hesitate. He didn't doubt.

 

"I'll do it," Izuku rumbled, his deep voice echoing with unyielding determination. "I accept."

 

All Might nodded, his smile widening. "Excellent! No hesitation! I expected nothing less from a giant!"

 

All Might turned, pointing down the street toward the horizon. "But do not think this will be easy! One For All is an immense burden! Even with your titanic physique, your body must be tempered! Your spirit must be forged! Starting tomorrow, we begin your training!"

 

"Yes, sir!" Izuku shouted, immediately bowing his head so violently he cracked the pavement with his forehead again.

 

"Ah! Careful with the city property!" All Might winced. "Go home, young Midoriya! Rest your giant bones! Tomorrow, we build the ultimate hero!"

 

As Izuku stood up and walked the rest of the way home, his backpack felt lighter. The air smelled cleaner. For the first time in his entire life, the terrifying, three-hundred-and-fifty-pound Goliath didn't try to hunch his shoulders to make himself look smaller.

 

He walked tall. He walked proud. And deep within his chest, the heart of the mountain beat a steady, triumphant rhythm.

 

The dawn air over Dagobah Municipal Beach Park was crisp, carrying the salty, iodine tang of the ocean mixed with the pungent stench of oxidized metal and rotting garbage. For years, the beach had served as an illegal dumping ground. Mountains of discarded appliances, rusted car chassis, and twisted industrial refuse blighted the coastline, completely obscuring the sand and the waves.

 

Standing at the edge of the seawall, wearing a pair of custom-made, reinforced sweatpants and a massive, stretched-out white t-shirt, was Izuku Midoriya.

 

Even slouching, he was a monolithic presence. At seven feet, two inches tall and carrying over three hundred and fifty pounds of hyper-dense muscle and bone, he looked more like a piece of heavy construction equipment than a fourteen-year-old middle schooler. He shifted his weight from one massive red sneaker to the other, his solid white eyes scanning the endless sea of trash.

 

"You see, young Midoriya!" a booming voice echoed over the hum of the distant highway.

 

All Might, fully transformed in his muscular glory, stood atop a rusted refrigerator, striking a triumphant pose with one hand pointing toward the horizon. "A hero is not just someone who punches villains! A true hero serves the community! They restore hope! And right now, this beach is crying out for a hero!"

 

Izuku stared at the sheer volume of debris. "We're... we're going to clean the beach?" his deep, rumbling voice vibrated in his chest.

 

"Exactly!" All Might leapt down, landing with a heavy thud that kicked up a cloud of sandy dirt. He pulled a thick stack of papers from his pocket and thrust them toward the giant boy. "I have developed the ultimate training regimen! The 'Aim to Pass: American Dream Plan'! This schedule dictates your sleep, your meals, and your daily cleanup goals! By the time ten months have passed, this beach will be pristine, and your body will be ready to receive One For All!"

 

Izuku gingerly took the papers with his colossal, ash-gray hands. He squinted at the incredibly detailed schedule. "This... this is amazing, All Might! You calculated my caloric intake? Wait, 'two thousand calories a day'?"

 

All Might grinned, flashing his teeth. "Of course! A standard, rigorous diet for a growing boy aiming to build lean muscle mass!"

 

Izuku looked up, his pointed ears twitching downward in confusion. "All Might... my basal metabolic rate just to exist at this size is around five thousand calories a day. When I'm active, it's closer to eight thousand. If I only eat two thousand calories, my body will start cannibalizing my own muscle tissue in about forty-eight hours."

 

All Might's smile froze. A bead of sweat rolled down his chiseled temple. "Oh. Is... is that so?"

 

"Yeah," Izuku muttered, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, the slate-gray lithoderms there grinding together with a sound like rough sandpaper. "Goliath biology requires a massive amount of fuel. Our bone density is roughly three times that of a baseline human, and our muscle fibers are hyper-compacted. I... I eat a lot."

 

All Might coughed into his fist, rapidly shrinking down in a cloud of steam into his skeletal form to save energy. "I see. Well, adjustments can be made! But the physical labor remains the same! I want you to start by moving that refrigerator I was standing on to the drop-off zone!"

 

Izuku nodded dutifully. He lumbered over to the rusted, double-door refrigerator. It was an old industrial model, half-buried in the sand and filled with waterlogged junk. A normal person would need a dolly and two friends to even tilt it.

 

Izuku didn't bother looking for a handhold. He simply bent his thick legs, wrapped his massive arms around the center of the fridge, and stood up.

 

SCREEECH.

 

The metal crumpled inward under his grip. Izuku ripped the refrigerator out of the sand with absolutely zero visible effort. He didn't hoist it onto his shoulder; he just held it in front of his chest like a person carrying a slightly heavy cardboard box.

 

"Where is the drop-off zone?" Izuku asked, his voice entirely unbothered, his breathing perfectly even.

 

All Might stared. His sunken blue eyes were wide. "Uh... by the street. About fifty yards that way."

 

Izuku nodded. He turned and jogged—jogged—up the incline of the beach, the sand blasting out from beneath his size-22 shoes. He reached the pavement, set the refrigerator down gently, and bounded back down to All Might in less than ten seconds.

 

"Okay, what's next?" Izuku asked, his pure white eyes shining with eager, puppy-like enthusiasm.

 

Small Might looked at the boy. Then he looked at the beach. Then he looked at the American Dream Plan in his hands.

 

I miscalculated, All Might thought, rubbing his bony temples. I completely miscalculated. He isn't a normal boy. He isn't even a normal mutant. He's a biological siege engine. This beach was supposed to take him ten months of grueling, soul-crushing labor to clear.

 

"Midoriya," All Might rasped, pointing a shaking finger at a rusted-out pickup truck buried to its axles in wet sand. "Move that truck."

 

Izuku tilted his head. "Do you want me to carry it, or pull it?"

 

"I don't care! Just move it!"

 

Izuku trotted over to the truck. He grabbed the front bumper. The rusted metal immediately snapped off in his hands. Izuku frowned, huge anime tears welling up in his pure white eyes. "I-I broke it! I'm sorry!"

 

"Don't cry! Just grab the frame!" All Might shouted, waving his arms.

 

Izuku sniffled, wiping his eyes with a massive gray forearm. He squatted down, digging his thick fingers underneath the front axle of the truck. He braced his tree-trunk legs, the muscles in his thighs expanding until they threatened to tear his sweatpants. With a deep, guttural grunt, Izuku heaved.

 

The suction of the wet sand fought back, but it was a losing battle against Goliath torque. With a sickening SCHLUCK, the entire front half of the truck was lifted off the ground. Izuku leaned back, dragging the two-ton vehicle up the beach, the rear wheels locked and gouging deep trenches into the sand. He hauled it all the way to the street, his breathing only slightly elevated.

 

When he returned, All Might had torn the ten-month plan in half.

 

"Alright, young man," All Might said, his eyes burning with a new, intense fire. "We are throwing out the baseline. You are already in possession of superhuman strength. So, we are going to train you like a superhuman."

 

 

 

The first four months of training were a blur of unimaginable destruction and physical exertion.

 

Dagobah Beach, which had accumulated decades of refuse, was systematically dismantled by a single teenager. Izuku didn't just move trash; he processed it.

 

His Goliath biology was a marvel of ancient adaptation. His stamina was effectively limitless so long as he consumed enough calories—which his mother, Inko, gladly provided, buying rice, beef, and protein powder in wholesale bulk. When Izuku worked, his body temperature would rise, and his slate-gray skin would take on a faint, terrifying crimson hue as his hyper-dense muscles flushed with oxygenated blood.

 

He didn't use ropes to pull washing machines; he chained them together by the dozens and dragged them like a massive sled. When he encountered piles of twisted steel girders that were too awkward to carry, he would simply bend them in half with his bare hands until they fit into manageable bundles.

 

And then, there was Stone's Endurance.

 

All Might quickly learned that Izuku’s skin possessed an active defense mechanism. When Izuku braced himself, he could consciously hyper-contract his muscle fibers and harden his dermal layers, turning his skin into something harder than granite. It made him entirely immune to cuts from rusted metal, broken glass, or sharp jagged edges. He would dive headfirst into piles of razor-sharp scrap and emerge completely unharmed, his lithoderms scraping against steel with the sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard.

 

By the end of the fourth month, mid-way through summer, the impossible had happened.

 

The beach was completely spotless.

 

The sand was pristine, gleaming white under the rising sun. The waves crashed softly against the shore, free of oil slicks and floating garbage.

 

Izuku stood at the water's edge, his massive chest heaving slowly, his body covered in sweat that hissed faintly as it evaporated off his hot, gray skin. He looked out at the horizon, a soft, content smile gracing his intimidating features.

 

"You cleared it," All Might said, walking down the steps, completely dumbfounded. "You actually cleared it. In four months."

 

"It was good practice," Izuku rumbled happily. "I feel great! My grip strength has increased by roughly fourteen percent, and my kinetic lifting capacity has maxed out the local gym's calibration machines. So... what do we do for the next six months?"

 

All Might stared at the giant boy. He had nothing. The entire plan hinged on this taking ten months. If he gave Izuku One For All right now, the boy’s body could absolutely handle it. But he still needed six months to prepare for the U.A. Entrance Exam. If he stopped training, his muscles might lose their edge.

 

All Might pulled out a flip phone. "Give me a moment, young Midoriya. I need to make a call."

 

He walked a few paces away, dialing a number rapidly.

 

"Tsukauchi? Yes, it's me," All Might whispered frantically into the receiver. "Listen, I need a favor. A massive favor. Do you have connections at the port authority? I need to rent a tugboat. And a barge. And I need you to find me the heaviest, most ungodly pieces of industrial salvage in the prefecture."

 

On the other end of the line, the police detective paused. "Toshinori, what in the world are you talking about?"

 

"I have a student, Tsukauchi," All Might said, glancing back at the seven-foot-tall behemoth who was currently weeping tears of joy over a small crab he had found in the sand. "And if I don't give him a challenge, I fear he's going to start casually bench-pressing commercial aircraft out of sheer boredom."

 

 

 

Phase Two of Izuku's training became the stuff of local urban legend.

 

Since the beach was clean, All Might couldn't ruin it by dumping trash back onto the sand. Instead, he utilized the shallow waters just off the coast of Dagobah.

 

Using his connections, All Might had massive, waterlogged shipping containers, concrete bridge pylons, and derailed, rusted train cars towed out and dropped into the bay, fifty yards from the shore.

 

"Your new task!" All Might bellowed from the beach. "Is aquatic retrieval! Water adds resistance, young Midoriya! You must wade out, retrieve the industrial salvage, and haul it up the ramp to the recycling barges! This will push your Goliath frame to its absolute limits!"

 

For the next six months, the residents of Musutafu would occasionally report seeing a terrifying, gray sea-monster emerging from the waters of Dagobah Bay.

 

It was Izuku.

 

The training was brutal, even for him. The sheer weight of a waterlogged shipping container was staggering. Izuku would wade into the chest-deep water, the cold ocean doing nothing to bother his mountain-adapted biology. He would wrap heavy industrial chains around his massive torso, hook them to the sunken debris, and pull.

 

This was where the true forging began. Izuku had to dig his massive sneakers into the seabed, the water churning and frothing around him as he hauled tens of thousands of pounds of dead weight through the surf. His muscles burned. His lithoderms cracked and shed, only to grow back thicker and darker.

 

It wasn't just physical training, either. All Might sat on the beach, lecturing Izuku on combat theory, hero law, and the psychological burden of being a pillar of peace.

 

"Your size is intimidating, Midoriya!" All Might called out as Izuku hauled a massive, seaweed-covered concrete pylon out of the surf. "When you arrive on a scene, civilians may be frightened of you! You must master your presence! A hero's voice, their posture, their smile—these are tools just as important as your fists!"

 

Izuku dropped the pylon onto the barge with a thunderous crash. He stood up straight, water cascading off his slate-gray skin. He forced the corners of his mouth up, trying to emulate All Might’s dazzling smile.

 

Because of his sharp canines and solid white eyes, he ended up looking like a demon about to feast on human souls.

 

"S-Smile with your eyes, my boy!" All Might sweated. "Maybe... maybe aim for a gentle, reassuring expression. We will work on the smile."

 

Despite the grueling labor, these months were the happiest of Izuku's life. For the first time, he wasn't treated like a fragile glass canon, nor was he treated like a mindless beast. All Might pushed him, respected him, and listened to his frantic, muttered ramblings about hero analysis. They formed a bond forged in sweat, salt water, and mutual respect. All Might saw the weeping, empathetic boy inside the titan, and Izuku saw the exhausted, deeply caring man behind the Symbol of Peace.

 

Finally, the morning of the U.A. Entrance Exam arrived.

 

The sun crept over the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant strokes of gold and crimson.

 

All Might stood on the seawall, looking down at the beach. It was flawless. The water was crystal clear, and the recycling barges were stacked high with the twisted, mangled remnants of the industrial salvage Izuku had conquered.

 

Standing atop a massive pile of crushed steel shipping containers, silhouetted against the rising sun, was Izuku Midoriya.

 

He had grown.

 

He was now pushing seven foot three. His chest was impossibly broad, a thick carapace of slate-gray muscle. The dark, tribal-like markings on his skin were more pronounced, stark against his ash-colored flesh. The lithoderms on his arms, shoulders, and knuckles were dark, jagged, and heavily calloused. He looked like an ancient warrior-king stepped straight out of mythology.

 

Izuku threw his massive head back, his pointed ears flat, and unleashed a guttural, triumphant roar that shook the very air, scattering a flock of seagulls a mile away.

 

All Might transformed in a burst of steam. "Excellent! Truly excellent, young Midoriya!"

 

Izuku leapt down from the steel mountain, landing on the sand with a heavy thud that barely bent his knees. He jogged over to All Might, his white eyes shining with anticipation.

 

"I did it, All Might," Izuku rumbled, his deep voice carrying a new resonance of absolute confidence. "I'm ready."

 

"You are more than ready," All Might said, holding up his hand. "Your vessel is forged. In fact, it is practically a fortress. It is time to grant you your reward. The power of One For All."

 

Izuku’s breath hitched. He nodded, bracing his massive frame. He imagined a brilliant light, a transfer of energy, a profound spiritual awakening.

 

All Might reached up and plucked a single, golden strand of hair from his head. He held it out between his fingers.

 

"Eat this."

 

Izuku stared. The wind blew silently across the beach.

 

"E-Eh?" Izuku squeaked, a comical sound coming from his massive, terrifying frame.

 

"You have to ingest some of my DNA for the quirk to transfer!" All Might laughed loudly, shoving the hair toward Izuku’s face. "Come on! Chew well! The exam starts in three hours, and it takes time to digest!"

 

Izuku let out a long, heavy sigh that sounded like a bellows. With thick, clumsy fingers, he took the tiny strand of hair. He placed it on his tongue, grimaced, and swallowed it dry.

 

"Did it work?" Izuku asked, patting his massive chest.

 

"You won't feel it immediately," All Might said, clapping Izuku on his boulder-like shoulder. "But when you need it, it will be there. Now, go! Go home, shower, put on a fresh uniform, and march to your destiny! Show U.A. High School what a Goliath can do!"

 

 

 

The towering H-shaped building of U.A. High School loomed over the bustling courtyard. Hundreds of prospective students were making their way toward the massive front gates, buzzing with nervous energy.

 

Izuku Midoriya stood at the edge of the campus, frozen in terror.

 

He was wearing his freshly pressed black middle school uniform, though his mother had needed to sew extra elastic into the shoulders to accommodate his newly expanded back muscles. He gripped the straps of his enormous backpack, his heart hammering against his ribs.

 

I'm here, he thought, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I'm actually here.

 

He took a step forward, instantly towering over the sea of students. As he waded into the crowd, a familiar phenomenon occurred. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the students subconsciously parted around him. They took one look at the seven-foot-tall, gray-skinned behemoth with solid white eyes, and their self-preservation instincts kicked in, leaving a wide, empty circle around Izuku as he walked.

 

"Whoa... look at the size of that guy," a student muttered.

"Is he taking the exam or is he the final boss?" another whispered.

 

Izuku hunched his massive shoulders, trying to look smaller, the old habits dying hard. Just ignore them, Izuku. You're here to pass.

 

"Out of my way, Deku."

 

Izuku stopped. He looked down.

 

Katsuki Bakugo was standing in his path. He looked the same as ever, his hands shoved into his pockets, his crimson eyes glaring fiercely. It was the first time they had spoken since the Sludge Villain incident. Bakugo had entirely avoided him for ten months.

 

"K-Kacchan!" Izuku stammered, raising a massive hand in a nervous wave.

 

Bakugo stared up at him. Izuku had always been big, but over the last ten months, his sheer mass had become terrifying. Bakugo had to crane his neck back uncomfortably just to meet Izuku’s eyes. It infuriated him.

 

"Don't think you're special just because you got a little bigger," Bakugo sneered, small explosions popping in his pockets. "I'm still going to crush you. I don't care how tough your rock-skin is. If you get in my way, I'll blow you to pieces."

 

Instead of cowering, Izuku simply looked at his childhood friend. He didn't smile, but he didn't weep, either. He just stood there, an immovable mountain of gray flesh.

 

"I'm not going to get in your way, Kacchan," Izuku rumbled softly, his deep voice vibrating in the air between them. "But I'm not going to lose, either."

 

Bakugo’s eye twitched. He clicked his tongue, shoving past Izuku’s massive leg and storming toward the entrance.

 

Izuku watched him go, a small sense of pride welling in his chest. He hadn't flinched.

 

Determined, Izuku took a massive, confident step forward.

 

His size-22 sneaker clipped the edge of a raised paving stone.

 

Despite all his training, all his power, and all his ancient genetics, Izuku’s center of gravity shifted violently. His massive arms flailed in a panic, and he pitched forward, three hundred and fifty pounds of dense muscle hurtling face-first toward the concrete.

 

I'm going to crack the pavement with my face on the first day! Izuku thought, closing his white eyes.

 

But the impact never came.

 

Instead, a profound sense of weightlessness washed over him. Izuku floated an inch off the ground, suspended mid-air.

 

"Oops! Sorry about that!" a cheerful voice chirped.

 

Izuku carefully twisted his massive body around. Standing beside him, her hand glowing faintly with a pink light, was a girl with round cheeks and short, auburn hair. She was smiling brightly.

 

"I used my Quirk on you!" she said, bringing her hands together and pressing her fingertips. "Release!"

 

Izuku immediately dropped. He caught himself easily, his massive hands planting on the concrete with a soft thud. He pushed himself up, towering over the girl.

 

"It's my Quirk, Zero Gravity," the girl explained, completely unbothered by Izuku’s terrifying appearance. "It's bad luck to trip on exam day, right? I'm Ochaco Uraraka! Nice to meet you!"

 

Izuku’s massive brain short-circuited. A GIRL IS TALKING TO ME! SHE ISN'T AFRAID OF ME! SHE'S INCREDIBLY NICE!

 

"I-I-I-I'm M-Midoriya!" Izuku stammered, his deep voice cracking comically, his face flushing with a massive, terrifying blush that turned his gray skin a deep, bruised purple. He began bowing frantically, a terrifying sight for anyone nearby. "T-Thank you! Good luck! You're amazing!"

 

Uraraka laughed, waving her hand. "You're really intense, Midoriya-kun! But you seem super nice! See you inside!"

 

She jogged off toward the auditorium. Izuku stood there, massive tears of joy welling up in his eyes.

 

I talked to a girl... he thought, floating on cloud nine as he lumbered into the building.

 

The written exam was excruciating. Not because of the material—Izuku was incredibly smart, having poured over hero laws and tactical analysis his entire life—but because of the furniture. U.A.'s desks were larger than normal, designed to accommodate heteromorphic students, but Izuku was still too big. He had to sit on the very edge of his chair, his knees practically touching his chin, using a pencil that looked like a toothpick in his massive hand.

 

After the written portion, the students were ushered into a massive auditorium for the practical exam orientation.

 

Pro Hero Present Mic stood on the stage, screaming into the microphone, explaining the rules. The practical exam was a mock urban battle. Students would be deployed into faux cities to destroy mechanical "villains"—robots worth one, two, or three points.

 

"And there's a fourth type of villain!" Present Mic shouted, pointing at the screen. "The Zero Pointer! It's a massive obstacle! If you see it, just run away!"

 

"Excuse me!"

 

A tall, bespectacled student with blue hair stood up in the front row, his hand raised rigidly. "Sir, the printout clearly lists four types of villains! If this is a misprint, U.A. should be ashamed of such a sloppy error!"

 

The student then spun around, pointing directly back at Izuku, who was taking up two seats in the back row and muttering quietly to himself about robot armor plating.

 

"And you! The incredibly large student in the back!" the blue-haired boy shouted. "You've been muttering this entire time! Your sheer presence is distracting, but your constant whispering is unbearable! If you are here to treat this like a game, leave immediately!"

 

The entire auditorium turned to look at Izuku.

 

Izuku froze. His pointed ears flattened. Huge, anime-style tears instantly erupted from his pure white eyes, cascading down his cheeks. He slapped both of his massive hands over his mouth, shrinking down in his seat as much as physically possible.

 

"I-I'm s-s-sorry!" Izuku sobbed, his deep, rumbling voice muffled by his hands. "I didn't m-mean to be a distraction! Please don't be mad at me!"

 

The blue-haired boy blinked, completely taken aback by the terrifying giant bursting into hysterical tears like a frightened toddler. The rest of the students sweatdropped, unsure of how to process the scene.

 

"Okay, okay, settle down, examinee 7111!" Present Mic laughed nervously from the stage. "And giant listener in the back, it's all good! Just keep the waterworks to a minimum!"

 

 

 

An hour later, Izuku stood before the massive, towering gates of Battle Center B.

 

He had changed out of his school uniform into his physical training gear: a pair of dark green, reinforced cargo pants, thick steel-toed boots, and a form-fitting black compression tank top that left his massive, slate-gray arms and the intricate dark markings on his skin fully exposed.

 

Around him, dozens of other students were stretching, showing off their quirks, and psyching themselves up. Izuku spotted Uraraka doing some light stretches near the front. He took a step toward her to wish her luck, but a firm hand chopped down on his massive bicep.

 

It was the blue-haired boy with glasses. "You! What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to distract her right before the exam? Have you no shame?"

 

Izuku flinched, holding his hands up defensively. "N-No! I just wanted to say good luck—"

 

"RIGHT, LET'S START!"

 

Present Mic's voice blasted from speakers mounted on the walls.

 

The massive steel gates began to groan open.

 

Most of the students hesitated, waiting for a countdown. But Izuku’s brain, tempered by ten months of brutal physical labor and All Might's lectures on decisive action, kicked into gear.

 

"There are no countdowns in real battles! Run! Run! Run!" Present Mic shrieked.

 

Izuku didn't just run. He exploded.

 

His thick legs coiled and released, generating a thunderous CRACK that shattered the pavement at the starting line. He bounded forward like a monstrous, gray gorilla, leaving the rest of the students completely in the dust.

 

He tore down the main street of the faux city, his solid white eyes scanning the alleys.

 

Target acquired.

 

A Two-Point robot rolled out from a side street, its mechanical sensors locking onto the giant teenager. "TARGET SIGHTED. COMMENCING ELIMINATION."

 

The robot raised its arm, preparing to fire a rubber bullet.

 

It never got the chance.

 

Izuku didn't use a martial arts stance. He didn't use a flashy technique. He used Goliath combat.

 

He didn't slow down. He charged directly into the robot, lowering his massive shoulder and activating Stone's Endurance.

 

KRANG!

 

The sound of three hundred and fifty pounds of hyper-dense, stone-hard muscle slamming into steel at forty miles per hour was deafening. The Two-Pointer was completely obliterated upon impact, its chassis crumpling inward as it was launched thirty feet backward into a concrete wall, exploding in a shower of sparks.

 

Izuku didn't stop. He turned, spotting a One-Pointer attempting to flank him.

 

He lunged, his massive hands reaching out. He didn't punch it. He grabbed the robot by its metal head and its arm. With a terrifying roar, Izuku pulled his hands apart.

 

SCREEECH—SNAP.

 

He literally tore the robot in half using raw, brute strength, tossing the sparking metal halves over his shoulders.

 

"Three points," Izuku muttered, his voice dropping into a focused, lethal baritone.

 

In the observation room, the U.A. faculty sat in front of a massive wall of monitors, watching the students.

 

"Fascinating," a voice murmured from the shadows. Principal Nezu, a small, intelligent chimera, sipped his tea. "We have quite a crop this year. Look at examinee Bakugo, an aggressive but highly effective quirk application."

 

"Check out the kid in Center B," the pro hero Snipe whistled, leaning forward in his chair. "The big mutant."

 

The monitors shifted, focusing on Izuku.

 

The screen showed Izuku surrounded by four Three-Pointers. One of them launched a barrage of missiles. Izuku didn't dodge. He hardened his skin, crossing his arms over his face. The missiles detonated against his lithoderms, enveloping him in smoke.

 

From the smoke, a massive gray hand reached out, grabbing a Three-Pointer by the tread. Izuku spun the multi-ton robot in a circle and hurled it into the other three, crushing them all in a massive pileup of twisted metal.

 

"Good lord," Midnight gasped, fanning herself. "His physical specs are off the charts. He's destroying them with his bare hands."

 

"It's a pure heteromorphic quirk," Eraserhead (Aizawa) noted, his dark eyes narrowed from within his sleeping bag. "Goliath physiology, if I'm not mistaken. Incredibly rare. He has no emitter abilities, but his baseline physical parameters far exceed enhanced-strength quirks. His combat is crude, though. Pure brawler tactics."

 

"He's efficient," All Might thought to himself, standing proudly in the back of the room, hiding his skeletal form in an oversized yellow suit. You're doing it, my boy! You don't even need One For All yet!

 

Back in Center B, Izuku was racking up points. He had lost count after forty. He was a force of nature, a gray blur of destruction. His tank top was torn, and his skin was covered in soot and minor scrapes, but he felt incredible. He wasn't a freak here. He was a powerhouse.

 

He stopped in an intersection, panting heavily, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I should have enough to pass," he muttered. "I wonder how Uraraka is doing?"

 

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet shuddered.

 

It wasn't a small vibration. It was a localized earthquake. The windows of the faux buildings shattered, raining glass onto the streets.

 

From the center of the city, a shadow fell over the intersection.

 

Izuku slowly looked up.

 

Rising above the six-story buildings was a mechanical monstrosity. It was easily the size of a skyscraper, covered in thick armor plating, moving on massive treads that crushed everything in its path. Its single, glowing red eye swept the street.

 

The Zero Pointer.

 

"LESS THAN TWO MINUTES REMAINING!" Present Mic's voice echoed.

 

The other students in the street immediately panicked.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Run! It's too big!"

 

Izuku watched as the other applicants scrambled, sprinting in the opposite direction. His tactical mind immediately assessed the situation. It's an obstacle. There's no point in fighting it. The logical move is to retreat.

 

He turned to run.

 

"Ow... help..."

 

Izuku froze. His pointed ears swiveled backward, picking up a faint, pained whimper beneath the grinding of the Zero Pointer's gears.

 

He looked back.

 

A piece of debris from a crushed building had fallen into the street. Trapped beneath the heavy concrete rubble, struggling desperately to free herself, was Uraraka.

 

The Zero Pointer’s massive tread was rolling directly toward her. In less than ten seconds, she would be crushed.

 

The other students kept running. The blue-haired boy sprinted past, looking back in horror but continuing his retreat.

 

Izuku’s heart stopped.

 

“You need to be prepared to face death.” All Might's words echoed in his mind. “Heroes don't just rely on their bodies. They rely on their hearts.”

 

The Goliath instincts flared. The roar of the mountain. The Herd is in danger.

 

Izuku didn't think. He didn't calculate. He turned around, his pure white eyes locking onto the colossal machine.

 

He planted his right foot. The concrete exploded beneath his boot.

 

Izuku didn't just rely on his Goliath biology. He reached deep within himself, searching for the power he had swallowed that morning. The crystallized power of generations. The web of voices.

 

One For All.

 

Suddenly, energy unlike anything Izuku had ever felt exploded within his core. It wasn't just strength; it was absolute, raw, incandescent power. Brilliant red lines of energy flared beneath his slate-gray skin, glowing intensely like magma cracking through the surface of a volcano. The dark tribal markings on his body illuminated with a fierce, golden light.

 

Clench your buttocks, All Might had told him. And yell from the bottom of your heart!

 

Izuku leaped.

 

The shockwave from his jump tore a crater in the street thirty feet wide, completely blowing away the surrounding cars and debris.

 

With One For All surging through his Goliath legs, Izuku didn't just jump. He flew.

 

He rocketed upward, defying gravity, soaring past the second story, the fourth, the sixth, until he was completely eye-level with the massive mechanical face of the Zero Pointer.

 

In the observation room, every single pro hero shot out of their seat.

 

"What in the world?!" Aizawa gasped, his eyes wide. "That isn't just Goliath strength!"

 

All Might gripped the railing, his knuckles turning white. Yes, Midoriya! Show them!

 

Suspended high in the air, time seemed to slow down for Izuku. He drew his right arm back. The energy of One For All cascaded into his limb, completely bypassing any natural limiters. He funneled one hundred percent of the sacred quirk directly into his massive, hyper-dense fist.

 

The sheer pressure of the quirk was agonizing. Izuku could feel the energy trying to tear its way out of his flesh. For a normal human, containing this much raw power would instantly pulverize their bones into a bloody, useless jelly.

 

But Izuku was not a normal human. He was a Goliath.

 

His body fought back. The muscle fibers in his arm hyper-contracted, screaming as they held the power in. The slate-gray skin stretched, and the thick, overlapping lithoderms on his forearm began to grind and crack under the immense internal pressure.

 

"SMASH!" Izuku roared, a war cry that shattered the sound barrier.

 

He drove his fist forward, striking the dead center of the Zero Pointer's face.

 

The impact was apocalyptic.

 

A concussive shockwave of air pressure erupted from his knuckles, completely caving in the reinforced steel of the massive robot. The force transferred through the chassis, blowing the entire back half of the machine's head wide open. The shockwave continued outward, parting the clouds in the sky above the Battle Center.

 

The colossal robot halted, completely destroyed in a single, devastating blow. It slowly began to tilt backward, crashing down into the faux city with an earth-shattering boom.

 

Izuku hung in the air for a brief, glorious second.

 

Then, gravity took hold.

 

As he began to fall, the adrenaline faded, and the pain hit him.

 

Izuku looked at his right arm. It was a terrifying sight, but not a catastrophic one.

 

Unlike what would have happened to a normal vessel, his arm was not a shattered, floppy, purple mess of destroyed flesh. The Goliath bone density and the incredible tensile strength of his muscles had successfully contained the blast. His arm was still structurally intact.

 

However, it was heavily damaged. The skin was bruised a deep, vicious violet. The lithoderms on his forearm—his natural armor—had completely shattered, the bone plates cracked and bleeding from the internal pressure. He could feel that his wrist was fractured, and his muscle fibers were torn, screaming in agony. It was the worst pain he had ever felt, but the limb wasn't lost.

 

I can still move it, Izuku realized, gritting his teeth. But... I'm falling.

 

He was hundreds of feet in the air. A fall from this height, even for a Goliath, would result in massive internal trauma. His legs were completely burned out from the jump; he couldn't use One For All to cushion the landing.

 

I'm going to crash, he thought, bracing himself, preparing to use Stone's Endurance to survive the impact.

 

Suddenly, a sharp SMACK hit his cheek.

 

Izuku’s massive body completely stopped in mid-air, floating weightlessly just a few feet above the ruined street.

 

He looked over.

 

Uraraka was leaning heavily against a piece of debris, her arm outstretched, panting heavily. She had used the broken leg of a robot to propel herself upward and slap his face, activating her Quirk on him.

 

"Release..." she groaned, pressing her fingers together before vomiting a rainbow-colored sparkle onto the ground.

 

Izuku dropped the remaining few feet, landing on his back with a heavy thud.

 

"TIME'S UP!" Present Mic's voice rang out, a siren blaring across the facility.

 

The exam was over.

 

Izuku lay on the broken concrete, staring up at the sky. His massive chest heaved, his lungs burning. His right arm throbbed with a dull, agonizing ache, the cracked lithoderms bleeding sluggishly onto the ground.

 

He slowly rolled his head to the side. The other students were slowly emerging from their hiding spots, walking toward the intersection in absolute, stunned silence.

 

The blue-haired boy with glasses stared at the ruined husk of the Zero Pointer, then down at the giant, gray boy lying in the street. He jumped to save her, the boy realized, a look of profound shame crossing his face. He ignored the points and put his life on the line. He's... he's a true hero.

 

"Are you alright, dearie?"

 

Izuku looked up. An elderly woman in a nurse's outfit—Recovery Girl—was walking through the crowd, leaning on a cane shaped like a syringe.

 

"M-My arm," Izuku rumbled softly, wincing as he cradled his damaged limb against his massive chest.

 

Recovery Girl walked up to him. She had to stretch her neck considerably to look him in the face. She grabbed his massive arm, inspecting the shattered bone plates and the deep bruising.

 

"Well, I'll be," she muttered, her eyes widening behind her visor. "A normal boy would have blown his arm clean off with that kind of stunt. Your body is a biological fortress, young man. Your bones are fractured, and your muscles are torn, but the structural integrity held. Remarkable."

 

She stretched her lips out and planted a kiss directly onto Izuku's thick bicep.

 

Instantly, Izuku felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him as his hyper-fast metabolism kicked into overdrive. Beneath the bruised skin, his fractured wrist quickly fused back together. The torn muscle fibers knit themselves tight. The shattered lithoderms didn't instantly regrow, but the bleeding stopped, leaving raw, pinkish-gray scar tissue that would eventually harden back into armor.

 

"There. The bones are healed," Recovery Girl said, patting his arm. "You'll be sore, and you need to eat about ten thousand calories when you get home to make up for the stamina I just drained. But you'll live."

 

Izuku slowly sat up, flexing his right hand. It ached fiercely, but it worked. He looked at Uraraka, who was being tended to by another medical robot, and let out a deep, rumbling sigh of relief.

 

I did it, he thought. I actually did it.

 

 

 

One week later.

 

Izuku sat at the tiny dining room table in his apartment, his massive knees nearly touching his chin. The table groaned dangerously beneath the weight of his elbows.

 

His mother, Inko, paced nervously in the kitchen, biting her nails.

 

A single, thick envelope stamped with the U.A. wax seal sat on the table in front of him.

 

Izuku reached out with trembling, slate-gray fingers. He carefully broke the seal and tipped the envelope over. A small, metallic disc slid out, landing on the table.

 

Instantly, a holographic projection sprang to life.

 

"I AM HERE AS A PROJECTION!" All Might's booming voice filled the small apartment, the hero standing proudly on the holographic screen in a sharp yellow suit.

 

Izuku gasped, leaning closer.

 

"Young Midoriya!" All Might smiled warmly. "You did incredibly well! You scored seventy-two villain points in the practical exam! A fantastic showing!"

 

Izuku let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Seventy-two points. It was enough.

 

"However!" All Might continued, raising a finger. "U.A. is not a school that only values destruction! How could a hero course reject someone who risks their life to save another?"

 

The screen shifted, showing footage from a hidden camera. It showed Izuku, turning away from the exit, his pure white eyes locked onto the Zero Pointer. It showed him leaping into the sky, shattering the machine to save the trapped girl.

 

"Rescue points!" All Might announced. "A panel of judges awards points for acts of true heroism! Izuku Midoriya... sixty rescue points!"

 

Izuku’s jaw dropped. His pointed ears perked straight up.

 

"For a grand total of one hundred and thirty-two points!" All Might declared, his smile widening with immense pride. "You placed first in the exam, my boy! A historic score!"

 

Tears began to well up in Izuku's eyes. They spilled over, large and comical, splashing onto the table.

 

The projection of All Might reached out a hand toward the camera.

 

"You didn't just inherit a power, young Midoriya. You forged a vessel worthy of carrying the hopes of this world," All Might said softly. "Come, Izuku Midoriya. This is your Hero Academia."

 

The hologram clicked off.

 

Izuku sat there, his massive shoulders shaking as he wept openly, a deep, rumbling sound of pure joy. Inko ran over, throwing her arms around his massive neck, sobbing just as hard.

 

He wasn't a freak. He wasn't a monster.

 

He was Deku, the Goliath. And he was going to U.A. High School.