What if Deku had a T-Rex quirk that made him UA's strongest first-year

 

 

 

 

All men are not created equal.

 

Izuku Midoriya learned this harsh truth at the tender age of four, standing on a sun-baked playground under the buzzing drone of late-summer cicadas. He learned it while looking at the tear-streaked face of a boy trembling in the dirt, and at the smoking, crackling palms of his best friend, Katsuki Bakugo.

 

“Why are you being so mean, Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice was a high-pitched squeak, wavering like a leaf in the wind. He held his fists up, tears already prickling the corners of his wide green eyes. “If you keep hurting him, uh... I-I’ll stop you myself!”

 

Katsuki paused, a cruel, precocious grin spreading across his face. Behind him, two lackeys snickered. Katsuki pounded his fist into his open palm, creating a sharp POP of ignited nitroglycerin.

 

“You want to pretend to be a hero, Deku?” Katsuki sneered, taking a step forward. “You don’t even have a Quirk yet. You’re just a pebble.”

 

Izuku didn’t move, though every instinct in his small, fragile body screamed at him to run. The air smelled of burnt sugar and ozone. Katsuki lunged, his hand reeled back, sparks hissing like angry hornets. Izuku shut his eyes tight, bracing for the burning impact.

 

He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to protect people, just like All Might. He wanted to be strong enough that no one would ever have to cry when he was around.

 

I want to be strong, Izuku thought, his tiny heart hammering against his ribs in a panicked, frantic rhythm. Strong. Big. Unbreakable.

 

Then, the world seemed to stop.

 

The heat of Katsuki’s approaching explosion was suddenly eclipsed by a violent, searing heat erupting from deep within Izuku’s own chest. It didn’t burn like fire; it burned like a fever, hot and consuming. His heart skipped a beat, then slammed into his sternum with a force that made his eardrums ring.

 

Thump-THUMP.

 

Izuku gasped. His bones felt as though they were vibrating, grinding against each other. His skin, usually soft and dotted with pale freckles, began to itch fiercely.

 

Katsuki’s palm was inches from Izuku’s face when it happened.

 

With a sickening, visceral crunch of rapidly expanding cartilage and shifting bone, Izuku’s small frame exploded outward. His green hair stood on end, but beneath it, his skull was elongating, his jaw unhinging and jutting forward. The soft peach fuzz of his arms was swallowed by the sudden, violent eruption of thick, emerald-green scales.

 

Katsuki yelled in shock, stumbling backward, his explosion firing harmlessly into the dirt as a massive, emerald shadow suddenly loomed over him.

 

Izuku opened his eyes. But they were no longer the soft, round eyes of a four-year-old boy. The sclera had turned a deep, blood-orange, and his pupils had narrowed into sharp, predatory slits. He was looking down at Katsuki now. He was much, much taller.

 

His shoes ripped apart as thick, three-toed, clawed feet slammed into the playground dirt. The back of his shirt tore open to accommodate a heavy, muscular tail that swung behind him, cracking against the wooden posts of the swing set and snapping one in half like a twig.

 

Izuku didn't understand what was happening. He opened his mouth to ask Kacchan what was wrong, but the words didn't form. His vocal cords had thickened, shifting from the anatomy of a primate to that of an apex predator.

 

Instead of a question, a sound tore from his throat.

 

It started as a low, guttural rumble that vibrated the loose pebbles on the ground, escalating in a fraction of a second into an ear-shattering, bone-chilling roar. It was a prehistoric sound, a violent cacophony of screeching metal and a lion’s roar, echoing through the neighborhood and rattling the windows of nearby houses.

 

Katsuki Bakugo, the fearless prodigy, fell squarely onto his backside. All the color drained from his face. His lackeys were already screaming, sprinting away as fast as their legs could carry them. Katsuki sat frozen, his crimson eyes wide with absolute, primal terror as he stared up into a mouth lined with serrated, six-inch teeth.

 

The monstrous creature blinked. The predatory slits in its eyes suddenly widened, returning to a round, panicked shape. The massive jaws clamped shut.

 

The creature—Izuku—looked down at his own scaly, clawed hands. He let out a terrified, high-pitched whimper that sounded completely absurd coming from a hulking reptilian beast.

 

With a rush of expelled steam, the scales receded. The heavy bones snapped back into place. Within seconds, Izuku was sitting in the dirt, completely naked, shivering, and crying.

 

Katsuki didn't say a word. He scrambled backward in the dirt, got to his feet, and ran.

 

Izuku sat alone, rubbing his tear-filled eyes, completely unaware that he had just awakened one of the most powerful Mutant-Transformation Quirks recorded in a generation.

 

 

 

 Ten Years Later

 

“You’re muttering again, Midoriya.”

 

Izuku snapped out of his trance, his pencil pausing over his notebook. He looked up to see his homeroom teacher staring at him over the rim of his glasses. A few students turned to look, snickering softly.

 

“S-Sorry, sensei,” Izuku rumbled.

 

His voice was deep. Far too deep for a fourteen-year-old boy. It had a natural, gravelly resonance that made it sound like an idling car engine.

 

Izuku shifted uncomfortably in his specially tailored middle-school uniform. He was, to put it lightly, enormous. At fourteen, he already stood a staggering six-foot-four, built like a brick wall. His shoulders were incredibly broad, and his chest was barreled. Even in his fully human state, the lingering traits of his Quirk were impossible to ignore. His unruly green hair was thick and bristly, his skin had rough, slightly scaly patches along his forearms, and his teeth... well, he had learned to smile with his mouth closed to avoid scaring people with his sharp, predatory canines.

 

“Just try to keep it down,” the teacher sighed, returning to the chalkboard. “As third-year students, it’s time to start thinking seriously about your futures. I’m handing out printouts for your desired career paths!”

 

The teacher paused, a smirk crossing his face. “But, you all want to be heroes, don’t you?”

 

The classroom erupted into cheers as students showed off their Quirks. Izuku kept his hands firmly planted on his desk. He didn't dare activate his Quirk in the classroom. The last time he had accidentally let a partial transformation slip, his tail had demolished three desks and put a hole in the plaster wall.

 

“Hey, teach, don’t lump me in with these background characters.”

 

Izuku didn't have to look to know who was talking. Katsuki Bakugo leaned back in his chair, feet kicked up on his desk, an arrogant smirk on his face.

 

“I aced all the mock tests. I’m the only one from this crappy junior high who has the stuff to get into U.A. High School. I’m gonna surpass All Might and become the top hero!”

 

The class began to murmur. U.A. High School was the national standard, a fortress of heroism with an acceptance rate of less than two percent.

 

“Oh, that’s right,” the teacher said, glancing at a clipboard. “Midoriya, you’re aiming for U.A. too, aren’t you?”

 

The classroom went dead silent.

 

All eyes slowly drifted toward the back of the room, fixing on the massive, imposing figure of Izuku Midoriya.

 

No one laughed. No one mocked him.

 

Ten years ago, they might have. But Izuku’s Quirk, officially registered as Tyrant King, commanded a deep, instinctual respect—and fear. He could transform his body, partially or entirely, into a genetically optimized Tyrannosaurus Rex. In his full form, he was twenty feet tall, weighed several tons, and possessed jaw strength that could crush a city bus.

 

Katsuki froze, his feet sliding off his desk. He slowly turned his head to glare at Izuku. His red eyes were burning with a complex mix of absolute fury and a deeply buried, fiercely denied inferiority complex.

 

Unlike the universes where Izuku was Quirkless and subjected to a decade of physical abuse, in this world, Katsuki had never laid a hand on him after that day on the playground. It wasn't out of kindness; it was out of biological self-preservation. Katsuki’s explosions were powerful, but Izuku’s scales were virtually impenetrable. Katsuki hated Izuku not because he was weak, but because Izuku was an immovable, terrifying mountain that Katsuki couldn't blow away.

 

“Deku,” Katsuki growled, his palms sparking.

 

Izuku flinched, shrinking in on himself. It was a comical sight—a boy built like a heavyweight bodybuilder cowering behind a tiny wooden desk. “Y-Yes, Kacchan?”

 

“Don’t you dare apply to U.A.,” Katsuki hissed, standing up. “You think just because you’re a giant, walking lizard you’re better than me? Your Quirk is for destroying things. You’re a monster, not a hero. You’d probably eat the civilians before you saved them!”

 

Izuku looked down at his lap. The words stung. They always did. Katsuki was attacking Izuku's deepest insecurity: the terrifying, destructive nature of his power.

 

“I-I’ve been practicing my control, Kacchan,” Izuku mumbled softly. “And... and they removed the rule against mutant-types taking the exam years ago. I want to try.”

 

“You’re dead meat, Deku!” Katsuki shouted, though he didn't step any closer.

 

The teacher cleared his throat nervously. “Alright, Bakugo, sit down. Let’s get back to the lesson.”

 

As the class resumed, Izuku reached into his oversized backpack and pulled out a protein bar. He unwrapped it silently and popped the whole thing into his mouth, chewing methodically.

 

Maintaining his massive physique and fueling the energy required for his Quirk meant Izuku’s metabolism was astronomical. He had to consume upwards of eight thousand calories a day just to function normally. If he transformed, that number tripled. His mother, Inko, practically lived in the kitchen, bless her heart.

 

He stared out the window, looking up at the sky. A monster, not a hero, Katsuki had said.

 

Izuku clenched his fist. I’ll show them. I’ll show everyone that I can be a gentle hero. Just like All Might.

 

 

 

Walking home that afternoon, Izuku took the route under the overpass to avoid the crowds. He liked the quiet. It gave him time to write in his notebook, Hero Analysis for the Future No. 13. He was currently sketching a diagram of the Pro Hero Kamui Woods, calculating the tensile strength of his wooden branches.

 

He was so engrossed in his muttering and note-taking that he didn't hear the wet, sloshing sound emanating from the manhole behind him.

 

“A medium-sized meat shield... no, wait. Look at the size of you!” a gurgling, watery voice echoed in the tunnel. “You’ll make a perfect, durable suit!”

 

Izuku turned around, his eyes widening. A massive mound of sentient, putrid sludge was rising from the sewer grate. Two bulbous eyes and a jagged mouth floated within the muck. Before Izuku could react, the Sludge Villain lunged, wrapping a thick, suffocating tendril of slime around Izuku’s chest and face.

 

“Don’t fight it, kid!” the villain laughed, the sludge forcing its way into Izuku’s mouth and nose. “It’ll only hurt for about forty-five seconds! Then I’ll have a brand new, super-strong body!”

 

Izuku dropped his notebook. The stench of raw sewage and rotting garbage assaulted his sensitive olfactory nerves. Panic set in. He couldn't breathe. The sludge was thick, heavy, and tasting of bile.

 

I can’t breathe! I’m going to die here?

 

Fear spiked in his chest. And with fear came the instincts.

 

Predator’s Defense.

 

Izuku’s heart slammed against his ribs. The familiar, burning fever washed over him. He didn't need a full transformation—there wasn't enough room in the tunnel anyway. He focused the shift.

 

The Sludge Villain suddenly shrieked as the boy he was trying to possess began to expand violently.

 

Izuku’s neck thickened, his skin erupting into razor-sharp, emerald scales. The sludge enveloping his face was forcefully pushed back as Izuku’s jaw unhinged, elongating into a massive, terrifying reptilian snout.

 

With a sickening crunch, Izuku clamped his newly formed, massive jaws completely shut.

 

Because the villain was made of liquid, the bite didn't injure him in the traditional sense, but the sheer, explosive force of a T-Rex's jaw snapping shut—generating over 12,000 pounds of bite force—created a localized shockwave in the enclosed tunnel. The sludge was violently displaced, splattering against the concrete walls.

 

Izuku violently thrashed his head, ripping his respiratory tract free from the villain’s hold. He gasped for air, a low growl tearing from his scaly throat.

 

“What the hell are you?!” the Sludge Villain screamed, trying to reform his liquid body. “Some kind of dinosaur?!”

 

Izuku didn't answer. He spun around, focusing the transformation on his lower back. His pants ripped as a massive, heavily muscled tail, lined with thick osteoderms, materialized. With the rotational force of a heavyweight boxer, Izuku swung his hips.

 

The tail slammed into the bulk of the Sludge Villain like a freight train.

 

The impact sounded like a cannon going off. The villain was entirely dispersed, reduced to hundreds of helpless, quivering puddles of slime splattered across the tunnel floor and ceiling.

 

Izuku breathed heavily, steam rising from his scales as he willed the transformation to recede. His jaw shrank back, the tail dissolved into steam, and he fell to his knees in his ruined school uniform, coughing violently, trying to expel the taste of sewage from his mouth.

 

“Blegh... that was awful...” Izuku groaned, spitting on the ground.

 

“HAVE NO FEAR!”

 

A booming voice echoed from the end of the tunnel. Izuku’s head snapped up.

 

Standing at the entrance, illuminated by the afternoon sun, was a figure of absolute physical perfection. A massive man in a white t-shirt and cargo pants, with two distinctive blonde tufts of hair standing up like rabbit ears.

 

“FOR I AM...” The man paused, blinking. He looked at the splattered sludge coating the walls, and then down at the giant, shivering, freckled teenager kneeling in the center of it.

 

“Oh,” All Might said, his trademark smile faltering for a fraction of a second. “It seems you had the situation entirely under control, young man!”

 

Izuku’s jaw hit the floor. His eyes bulged out of his head. “A-A-A-All Might?!”

 

 

 

Ten minutes later, the remaining pieces of the Sludge Villain were securely trapped inside two two-liter soda bottles. All Might wiped his hands together, grinning broadly.

 

“I apologize for being late to the party! I was tracking this villain through the sewers, but it seems you did my job for me! A spectacular display of power, my boy!”

 

Izuku was trembling, completely star-struck. He had managed to get All Might to sign his notebook (which had miraculously survived the sludge attack), and he was now staring at the Number One Hero, clutching the book to his chest like a holy relic.

 

“I-It was nothing! I just panicked!” Izuku stammered, his deep voice cracking. “I-I have a mutant-transformation Quirk! It just sort of... reacts!”

 

All Might studied the boy. He noted the sheer size of the kid, the shredded remnants of his uniform, and the lingering traces of scales on the back of his neck.

 

“A powerful Quirk indeed,” All Might said, turning away and crouching to jump. “Well, I must be off! I need to get this villain to the police!”

 

“Wait!” Izuku blurted out, taking a heavy step forward.

 

All Might paused, glancing back over his massive shoulder.

 

Izuku looked down at his large, rough hands. The hands that Katsuki called monstrous. The hands that looked more suited to tearing flesh than saving lives.

 

“Can someone...” Izuku swallowed hard, gathering his courage. “Can someone with a Quirk like mine... a terrifying, monstrous Quirk that destroys things... can I still become a hero? A hero who saves people with a smile, like you?!”

 

All Might turned around fully. The wind blew through the tunnel, ruffling the hero’s blonde hair. He looked at the boy’s teary, desperate eyes, contrasting so sharply with his massive, intimidating physique.

 

All Might’s smile softened into something deeply genuine.

 

“Young man,” All Might said, his voice vibrating with authority and warmth. “A Quirk is merely a tool. It is the heart of the person wielding it that determines whether it is monstrous or heroic. You were attacked, and yet your first instinct was defense, not murder. You held back.”

 

Izuku’s breath hitched.

 

“A hero needs power to protect the innocent,” All Might continued, pointing a massive finger at Izuku’s chest. “You have the power. You have the heart. Therefore, yes. You can become a hero.”

 

Tears spilled over Izuku’s cheeks. He fell to his knees, his massive frame shaking with sobs. Those were the words he had waited his entire life to hear.

 

 

 

 The U.A. Entrance Exam

 

Ten months passed in a blur of relentless, agonizing preparation.

 

Izuku didn't need to build muscle. His Quirk naturally fortified his body to handle the immense strain of his transformations. If his human form wasn't heavily muscled, his bones would shatter from the whiplash of transitioning into a multi-ton dinosaur.

 

Instead, Izuku focused on control.

 

He trained at Dagobah Municipal Beach, a place completely covered in illegal trash. His goal wasn't just to clean the beach; it was to do so with surgical precision. He practiced transforming just his arms, picking up crushed cars, and stacking them gently without denting the metal further. He practiced transforming his legs to leap over mountains of garbage, learning to land without causing seismic shockwaves.

 

He learned to reign in the Predator’s Frenzy—the primal, reptilian instinct that tried to overtake his rational mind whenever he transformed fully.

 

He ate. He trained. He meditated.

 

And finally, the day of the U.A. Entrance Exam arrived.

 

Izuku stood before the towering, glass H-shaped buildings of U.A. High School. He was wearing his black middle school uniform, though his mother had reinforced the seams with stretchy, high-tensile fabric.

 

“This is it,” Izuku muttered, a low rumble in his chest. “The first step.”

 

He took a step forward, his nerves getting the better of him. His heavy foot caught the edge of the pavement, and with his massive center of gravity, he immediately pitched forward.

 

Oh no, I’m going to crush the pavement with my face, he thought, bracing for impact.

 

Suddenly, the pull of gravity vanished. Izuku hovered in the air, his nose an inch from the concrete.

 

“Are you okay?” a bright, cheerful voice asked.

 

Izuku slowly righted himself, his feet touching the ground as gravity returned. He looked down to see a girl with short, bobbed brown hair and a permanent flush on her cheeks.

 

“It’s my Quirk,” she smiled, pressing her fingertips together. “I stopped you with it. It’d be bad luck to fall right before the exam, huh? I’m Ochaco Uraraka!”

 

Izuku stared at her. His brain short-circuited. He had never been this close to a girl who wasn't his mother, let alone one who wasn't terrified of him.

 

“I-I-I-uh... y-yeah! T-Thank you! Very... much!” Izuku stuttered, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating so hard it made his own teeth chatter. His face turned the color of a ripe tomato.

 

Uraraka giggled. “You’re super big, but you get nervous just like everyone else! Good luck in there!” She waved and jogged toward the entrance.

 

Izuku stood frozen, steam literally venting from his collar. I talked to a girl! Well, she talked to me, but still!

 

Inside the massive auditorium, the written exam went smoothly. Izuku had always been an excellent student, his analytical mind devouring information.

 

After the written test came the orientation for the practical exam. The Voice Hero: Present Mic stood at the podium, explaining the rules. It was a mock urban battle. Examinees would be dropped into a replica city and tasked with destroying three different types of robotic villains, each worth one, two, or three points.

 

Robots, Izuku thought, rapidly scribbling in his notebook. That’s perfect. I don’t have to hold back. I can use my full strength without worrying about killing anyone.

 

“Are you going to mutter like a freak the whole time, or are you going to shut up?” Katsuki hissed from the seat next to him.

 

Izuku clamped his mouth shut, nodding apologetically.

 

A tall student with glasses and stiff posture stood up, pointing at Present Mic. “Sir! The printout lists four types of villains, not three! If this is an error on U.A.’s part, it is highly shameful!” He then turned and pointed sharply at Izuku. “And you! In the back! Your constant rumbling is distracting! If you are here for a pleasure trip, I suggest you leave!”

 

Izuku shrank back, his face burning. “S-Sorry.”

 

“The fourth robot is the Zero Pointer!” Present Mic clarified. “It’s an arena trap! It’s worth no points, so my advice is to run away if you see it!”

 

An obstacle, Izuku noted. Avoid the Zero Pointer. Rack up points on the others. Got it.

 

 

 

Ten minutes later, Izuku stood in front of the towering gates of Battle Center B. He was surrounded by dozens of other examinees, all of them stretching and looking nervous.

 

Izuku took a deep breath. He closed his eyes.

 

Don’t hold back, he told himself. Show them what the Tyrant King can do.

 

“RIGHT, LET’S START!” Present Mic’s voice boomed from the loudspeakers. “WHAT’S WRONG? THERE ARE NO COUNTDOWNS IN REAL BATTLES! RUN, RUN, RUN!”

 

While the other students hesitated in confusion, Izuku’s eyes snapped open. The sclera flooded with blood-orange. His pupils narrowed into vertical slits.

 

He didn't just run. He exploded.

 

Izuku’s massive leg muscles engaged, launching him forward with such force that the concrete beneath his feet spider-webbed. He shot through the open gates, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

 

“H-Hey, wait!” a boy yelled, snapping the others out of their daze. The horde of examinees chased after him.

 

Izuku rounded the first corner of the faux city and was immediately confronted by three One-Pointer robots. They locked onto him, raising their mechanical blasters.

 

“Target acquired.”

 

Izuku didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.

 

As he charged, he unleashed the transformation. It was a fluid, terrifying cascade of biological restructuring. His clothes stretched to their absolute limits as his body rapidly expanded. Thick, impenetrable green scales rippled across his skin. His jaw elongated, his teeth sharpened into serrated daggers. A massive, heavy tail erupted from his lower spine, acting as a counterbalance as his posture shifted forward.

 

Within three seconds, the teenage boy was gone. In his place charged a twenty-foot-tall, seven-ton apex predator.

 

Izuku roared. The sound wave shattered the glass windows of the surrounding faux buildings.

 

The One-Pointers fired their blasters. The energy projectiles struck Izuku’s chest and face, exploding into harmless sparks against his heavily armored scales. He didn't even flinch.

 

He reached the robots. With a terrifying crunch of metal, Izuku clamped his massive jaws around the torso of the first One-Pointer, lifting it off the ground. He violently whipped his head to the side, tossing the ruined machinery into a concrete wall.

 

At the same time, he spun on his powerful hind legs, bringing his heavy tail around in a devastating sweep. The tail smashed into the remaining two One-Pointers, crushing their chassis and sending them skidding down the street in a shower of sparks.

 

Three points, Izuku’s rational mind calculated from beneath the predatory instincts.

 

He didn't stop. He caught the scent of oil and ozone on the wind. The sensory input of his T-Rex form was overwhelming; he could hear the whirring of gears three blocks away, smell the exhaust, and feel the vibrations of the heavy machinery moving through the city.

 

He dropped back onto two legs, his powerful thighs propelling him down the main street at almost forty miles per hour. A group of three Two-Pointers and a Three-Pointer blocked the intersection.

 

Other examinees were just arriving at the scene, including the tall boy with glasses. They froze, staring in absolute awe and terror as the giant, green dinosaur bulldozed through the street.

 

Izuku leaped into the air. Despite his massive weight, the explosive power of his leg muscles carried him twenty feet up. He came crashing down directly on top of the Three-Pointer, his clawed feet crushing its head into its torso like an aluminum can.

 

Using the crushed robot as a springboard, he lunged forward, snapping his jaws over a Two-Pointer’s arm, tearing it completely off, and using the mechanical limb to bludgeon the remaining robots.

 

“W-What is that?!” an examinee screamed.

 

“Is that a student?!”

 

“He’s a monster!”

 

Izuku ignored them. He was in his element. The Predator’s Frenzy was humming in the back of his mind, urging him to tear, to crush, to dominate, but his human consciousness held the reins firmly. He was a hero. These were just machines.

 

Twenty-five points. Thirty. Forty-two.

 

 

 

In the teacher’s viewing room, a massive bank of monitors displayed the action from across the various battle centers.

 

“We have quite a crop this year,” a small, mouse-like creature in a suit said happily, sipping a cup of tea. Principal Nezu watched the screens with keen interest.

 

“Indeed,” said Midnight, leaning against the console. “Look at Bakugo in Center A. His combat instincts are feral. He’s already past fifty points.”

 

“But look at Center B,” a tired, dry voice rumbled from the corner. Shota Aizawa, the Erasure Hero, stared intently at a monitor displaying a giant green dinosaur tearing a Three-Pointer to shreds.

 

“Ah, Midoriya Izuku,” Nezu smiled. “The Tyrant King Quirk. It’s been highly monitored since his childhood awakening. A mutation of the highest tier.”

 

“He’s destructive,” Aizawa noted critically. “Too much collateral damage. If those were real buildings with civilians inside, the shockwaves of his tail alone would cause casualties.”

 

“Look closer, Eraserhead,” a booming voice commanded. All Might, currently in his deflated, skeletal form, pointed a bony finger at the screen.

 

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. He watched as the massive T-Rex swung its tail to destroy a robot. But right before the tail impacted the building behind the machine, the boy slightly shifted his hips, altering the trajectory so the tail missed the concrete structure by mere inches.

 

Aizawa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “He has absolute spatial awareness. He knows exactly how big he is, and he’s actively mitigating damage while maintaining maximum lethality against the targets.”

 

“He is a gentle beast,” All Might grinned, pride welling in his chest. “But let us see how he, and the rest of them, handle the true test of this exam.”

 

Nezu pressed a large red button on his desk. “Time to unleash the ultimate obstacle.”

 

 

 

Back in Battle Center B, Izuku was panting heavily. He had reverted to his human form to conserve energy. Transforming into a multi-ton dinosaur burned through his caloric reserves at an alarming rate. He was leaning against a wall, gnawing on a high-calorie protein bar he had smuggled in his pocket.

 

Sixty-eight points, Izuku mentally tallied. That should be more than enough to pass. I just need to survive the last few minutes.

 

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet violently shook.

 

Izuku stumbled, dropping his protein bar. The shaking escalated into a massive, rolling earthquake. At the far end of the main street, the faux buildings began to crumble. A shadow eclipsed the sun.

 

The examinees screamed as a mechanical monstrosity breached the skyline. It was taller than the buildings, a behemoth of green metal and red, glowing eyes. The treaded wheels alone were the size of houses.

 

It was the Zero Pointer.

 

“Run!” someone screamed.

 

“That’s not something we can fight!”

 

The crowd of examinees turned and fled in a blind panic. Izuku felt his own heart pound. The sheer scale of the machine was staggering. Even in his full T-Rex form, he would only reach the robot’s knee.

 

Present Mic said to run away from it, Izuku thought, taking a step back. It’s an obstacle. Just avoid it.

 

He turned to run with the others. But his sensitive ears, finely tuned by his Quirk, picked up a sound over the grinding gears and screaming students.

 

A quiet, pained gasp.

 

Izuku snapped his head back toward the Zero Pointer. The machine had punched a building, sending a shower of massive concrete debris raining down onto the street. Trapped beneath a heavy slab of rubble, her leg pinned, was the brown-haired girl who had saved him from tripping earlier.

 

Uraraka.

 

The Zero Pointer was slowly rolling forward. In less than thirty seconds, its massive treads would crush her into paste.

 

The other examinees were running away. Even the tall boy with the glasses stopped, looked back at her, and gritted his teeth, paralyzed by the sheer terror of the machine.

 

Izuku didn't think. The rational, calculating part of his brain shut down completely.

 

In nature, a T-Rex is an apex predator. It does not run from a challenge. It does not surrender its territory. And when a member of its pack is in danger, it fights to the death.

 

Izuku’s heart roared in his chest. The burning fever returned, hotter and more violent than ever before.

 

He didn't run away. He turned around, facing the colossal machine.

 

And he charged.

 

“What is he doing?!” the boy with glasses yelled. “He’ll be killed!”

 

As Izuku sprinted toward the towering behemoth, he unleashed everything. He didn't hold back to mitigate damage. He didn't care about his caloric limit. He poured every ounce of his energy into the transformation.

 

The concrete exploded beneath his feet as he shifted. He grew instantly, his mass expanding violently. The emerald scales thickened, taking on a darker, almost blackish hue. His muscles bulged, tearing through the last remnants of his shirt.

 

He became the Tyrant King.

 

Uraraka looked up through her tears, her eyes widening as the giant, twenty-foot dinosaur sprinted past her, shaking the earth with every thunderous footstep.

 

Izuku stared up at the Zero Pointer’s head. It was high up. Too high for a normal jump.

 

Compress, his instincts screamed.

 

Izuku dropped low, running on two legs, bending his massive knees. His heavy tail scraped against the asphalt, carving a trench in the street.

 

When he was fifty feet away from the rolling treads, he planted his three-toed feet into the concrete. The ground shattered into a crater under the immense, accumulated kinetic pressure.

 

With a roar that shook the clouds, Izuku leaped.

 

His massive leg muscles unloaded like coiled springs. The seven-ton dinosaur launched into the air like a guided missile, ascending thirty, forty, fifty feet into the sky.

 

In the viewing room, All Might gripped the railing, his eyes wide. Aizawa stood up from his chair.

 

Izuku reached the apex of his jump, right at eye level with the Zero Pointer’s massive, red-glowing face.

 

The Predator’s Frenzy took over entirely. Izuku didn't just want to break the machine. He wanted to kill it.

 

Mid-air, Izuku twisted his massive torso. He swung his heavy counterbalance tail, utilizing the full, devastating rotational momentum of his seven-ton body.

 

“SMAAAAAASH!”

 

Wait, he didn't say that. He couldn't speak.

 

Instead, a monstrous, earth-shattering roar erupted from his jaws as his tail collided with the side of the Zero Pointer’s head.

 

The impact was catastrophic. The armor plating of the robot crumpled inward like wet tissue paper. The sheer kinetic force of the blow ripped the head completely off the neck joint. Sparks and oil erupted in a massive geyser as the decapitated head flew through the air, crashing into a building two blocks away.

 

The massive, headless chassis of the Zero Pointer stalled, short-circuited, and began to slowly tilt backward, falling away from Uraraka.

 

Izuku began to fall back to the earth.

 

The adrenaline rush vanished, replaced instantly by agonizing, hollow exhaustion. He had burned through his caloric reserves in a single, massive burst. His body couldn't maintain the transformation.

 

Mid-air, the scales rapidly dissolved into steam. The massive bones shrank. By the time he was twenty feet from the ground, he was a human teenage boy again, plummeting toward the concrete.

 

I... I saved her, Izuku thought sluggishly, the wind rushing past his ears. But my legs are broken. Everything hurts.

 

Before he could hit the ground, a sharp SLAP stung his cheek.

 

Gravity vanished.

 

Izuku floated gently downward, coming to a soft landing on the asphalt. He blinked his heavy eyes, looking over to see Uraraka panting, her hand outstretched. She had managed to use her Quirk on a piece of debris, levitated it, and slapped him with it to catch him.

 

“Th-Thank... you...” Uraraka whispered, before her eyes rolled back. The strain of her Quirk and her injury caused her to violently vomit a rainbow-colored substance before she passed out.

 

Izuku lay on his back, staring up at the sky. His muscles felt like lead. His stomach felt like a gaping, hollow void. He was completely, agonizingly starving.

 

“TIME’S UP!” Present Mic’s voice echoed across the ruined city.

 

A heavy silence fell over Battle Center B. The examinees slowly emerged from their hiding spots, walking toward the center of the street. They stared at the decapitated, towering ruin of the Zero Pointer.

 

Then, they looked down at the massive, bruised teenager lying half-naked in the center of the crater.

 

“He... he destroyed that thing with one hit,” a boy whispered.

 

“He saved that girl. He jumped right at it.”

 

The tall boy with glasses pushed his way to the front. He looked at Izuku, his eyes wide with profound realization. He saw the girl in danger, and he didn't hesitate. He possesses a terrifying power, yet he used it with absolute self-sacrifice. He... he is far superior to the rest of us.

 

An old woman with a syringe for a cane suddenly hobbled through the crowd. “Out of the way, out of the way! Let the pro do her job!”

 

Recovery Girl knelt beside Izuku. “My goodness, boy. You went far past your limit. Your blood sugar is dangerously low.”

 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of gummy bears, tossing them into his mouth, before leaning down and kissing him on the forehead.

 

Izuku felt a sudden rush of energy, but the exhaustion remained. He slowly sat up, chewing the gummies furiously.

 

“Am... am I disqualified?” Izuku rumbled softly, looking down at his large, scraped hands.

 

Recovery Girl smiled warmly. “Disqualified? For saving a fellow examinee? Nonsense. You rest now, son.”

 

Izuku looked around. The other students were staring at him. But this time, it wasn't the look he had received in middle school. There was no disgust. There was no mockery.

 

For the first time in his life, people were looking at him the way he had always looked at All Might.

 

They were looking at him with awe.

 

Izuku closed his eyes, a soft, relieved smile crossing his face as he finally allowed the darkness of exhaustion to take him.

 

The awakening was complete. The Tyrant King had taken his first steps into the world of heroes.

 

 

 

Izuku Midoriya stared at his reflection in the hallway mirror.

 

The U.A. High School uniform was undeniably prestigious, a symbol of the elite. For most students, it was a tailored fit of gray and gold. For Izuku, it was a structural engineering marvel.

 

His mother, Inko, had spent a small fortune having the uniform custom-ordered from a specialized hero-support textile company. The gray blazer was reinforced with elastic micro-fibers, the shoulders broadened to accommodate a chest that looked like it belonged to a professional bodybuilder, and the pants were made of high-tensile fabric capable of surviving a sudden influx of localized reptilian scales without shredding.

 

Even then, it was a tight fit. Izuku rolled his broad shoulders, hearing the fabric creak under the strain of his dense musculature.

 

“Izuku! Breakfast is ready!” Inko’s voice called from the kitchen.

 

Izuku ducked his head to avoid the doorframe—a habit he’d developed after a particularly disastrous growth spurt at age twelve—and lumbered into the small dining room. The table was practically groaning under the weight of his meal: a dozen eggs, three massive grilled salmon fillets, a mountain of rice, a loaf of toast, and a pitcher of milk.

 

Maintaining a Quirk capable of generating a twenty-foot, seven-ton dinosaur required an astronomical caloric intake.

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Izuku rumbled, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating the plates on the table. He sat down carefully on his reinforced steel chair and began to eat with mechanical efficiency.

 

“Are you nervous, honey?” Inko asked, wringing her hands together. “It’s your first day.”

 

“A little,” Izuku admitted between massive bites of salmon. He chewed carefully, keeping his lips closed to hide the sharp, serrated canines that lined his jaw. “But I’m mostly excited. I still can’t believe I got first place.”

 

He glanced over at the living room mantelpiece, where the holographic projection disc from U.A. sat proudly. It had been the happiest day of his life. All Might himself had delivered the news. Izuku had scored a respectable sixty-eight Villain Points, but the judges had awarded him an unprecedented sixty Rescue Points for taking down the Zero Pointer and saving Ochaco Uraraka.

 

One hundred and twenty-eight points. An undisputed first place.

 

“You earned it, Izuku,” Inko smiled softly, though her eyes held a familiar trace of worry. She loved her son, but she knew the world could be cruel to those whose Quirks made them look monstrous. “Just... remember to be careful. You’re so strong now.”

 

“I will, Mom,” Izuku promised, swallowing the last of his rice. He grabbed his oversized yellow backpack. “I’m heading out!”

 

“Have a good day! You’re my hero, Izuku!”

 

The walk to the train station was an exercise in self-consciousness. Izuku towered over the morning commuters. People naturally parted ways for him, their eyes darting to his immense size, the thick, bristly texture of his green hair, and the faint, emerald scales that lingered on the backs of his knuckles. He kept his head down, a gentle giant trying desperately not to take up too much space.

 

When he finally arrived at the sprawling campus of U.A. High School, he spent ten minutes wandering the labyrinthine corridors trying to find his classroom.

 

Class 1-A, Izuku thought, his massive hand coming to rest on a door that was at least three times the size of a normal entryway. Why is the door so huge? Ah, accessibility for larger mutation Quirks like mine. That’s incredibly thoughtful!

 

Before he could open it, he heard raised voices from inside.

 

“Don’t put your feet on the desk!” a stiff, commanding voice barked.

 

“Huh? And who the hell are you?” a familiar, aggressive voice shot back.

 

“I am Tenya Iida from Somei Private Academy! It is disrespectful to your classmates and the upperclassmen who sat there before you!”

 

“Somei? So you’re a stuck-up elite, huh? I’m gonna have fun crushing you!”

 

Izuku swallowed hard. Katsuki Bakugo. Of course they were in the same class.

 

Bracing himself, Izuku reached out and slid the massive door open. It slid along its tracks with a heavy thud.

 

The argument at the front of the room ceased instantly. In fact, the entire classroom went dead silent.

 

Twenty pairs of eyes turned to the doorway. A collective breath hitched in the throats of Class 1-A. Standing in the threshold was a teenage boy who looked like he could bench-press a bulldozer. The shadow he cast stretched across the floor, swallowing half the desks.

 

A small boy with purple balls on his head visibly paled and shrank under his desk. A boy with yellow hair and a black lightning bolt streak gulped loudly. Even a stoic-looking teenager with half-white, half-red hair narrowed his eyes, analyzing the immense physical threat that had just walked into the room.

 

Izuku froze. The silence was deafening. He realized how terrifying he must look, a hulking behemoth blocking their only exit.

 

“U-Um...” Izuku stammered, panic rising in his chest. He immediately bowed at a sharp ninety-degree angle, a deeply ingrained nervous habit. “G-Good morning! I’m Izuku Midoriya! It’s a pleasure to meet you all! Please take care of me!”

 

His voice, though stuttering and polite, sounded like an earthquake rumbling through a canyon.

 

The class blinked. The cognitive dissonance was staggering. He looked like a villain who fought pro heroes for a living, but he was acting like a nervous, apologetic middle schooler.

 

Iida, the tall boy with glasses, snapped out of his shock and marched over, chopping the air with his hand. “Good morning! I am Tenya Iida! I must apologize to you, Midoriya! During the entrance exam, I thought you were merely a destructive brute, but you recognized the true purpose of the practical test! You prioritized the rescue of a fellow student, sacrificing your own safety! I misjudged you!”

 

Izuku frantically waved his large hands. “N-No, really! I didn't realize there were rescue points! I just moved before I could think!”

 

“Humility as well!” Iida praised, adjusting his glasses.

 

“Hey! You’re the big dinosaur guy!”

 

Izuku turned to see Ochaco Uraraka pushing past Iida, a bright, bubbly smile on her face. “I’m so glad you’re in this class! I tried to give you some of my points after the exam, but Present Mic said you already had the highest score! That punch—well, tail-slap—was amazing!”

 

“T-Tail slap?” Izuku’s face flushed crimson. “Y-You saw that? I’m so sorry if the shockwave hurt your ears! Or if I threw debris at you! I try to be careful but sometimes the inertia—”

 

“Tch. Look at this pathetic display.”

 

The cheerful atmosphere evaporated as Katsuki Bakugo leaned back in his chair, glaring daggers at Izuku. His red eyes were filled with a toxic mixture of rage and deeply denied insecurity.

 

“Don’t get a big head just because you smashed some trash, Deku,” Katsuki sneered, though he made a point not to stand up or approach. “You’re still just a clumsy lizard. You’re gonna get in my way, and when you do, I’ll blow you to pieces.”

 

The rest of the class tensed. Threatening the six-foot-four wall of muscle seemed like an incredibly suicidal thing to do.

 

Izuku, however, just shrank in on himself, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “G-Good morning, Kacchan. I’ll try my best not to get in your way...”

 

“If you’re just here to make friends, you can pack up your things and leave.”

 

A tired, raspy voice came from the floor just outside the doorway. Izuku jumped, almost hitting his head on the doorframe, and looked down.

 

Laying in a bright yellow sleeping bag, drinking a juice pouch, was a haggard-looking man with long, unkempt black hair and stubble. He unzipped the sleeping bag and stood up, revealing a dark, utilitarian hero costume and a scarf wrapped around his neck.

 

“It took you lot eight seconds to quiet down,” the man sighed, his eyes drooping as if he hadn't slept in a week. “Time is limited. You kids are not rational enough.”

 

He stepped into the classroom, his gaze sweeping over the students before pausing on Izuku. He lingered for a moment, analyzing the boy's massive frame.

 

“I’m your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to meet you.”

 

The class stared in shock. This was their teacher?

 

Aizawa reached into his sleeping bag and pulled out a blue and white gym uniform. “Put these on and head out to the P.E. grounds. We’re doing a Quirk Apprehension Test.”

 

 

 

Ten minutes later, Class 1-A stood on the expansive dirt field behind the main U.A. building.

 

Izuku tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his gym uniform. Unlike the other students, his uniform was sleeveless and made of a highly specialized, stretchable polymer. U.A. had prepared it specifically for his Quirk file, allowing him to undergo partial transformations without shredding the school's property.

 

“A Quirk Apprehension Test?” Uraraka asked, stepping forward. “But what about the entrance ceremony? Or the guidance sessions?”

 

“No time for that,” Aizawa said flatly, his back to them. “U.A. is a freestyle school. That means us teachers can run our classes however we see fit. You’ve been doing standard fitness tests since middle school, but always with the rule that you couldn't use your Quirks. It’s irrational. The Ministry of Education is procrastinating.”

 

Aizawa turned around and pointed at Katsuki. “Bakugo. You finished first in the practical exam—excluding rescue points. What was your best softball throw in middle school?”

 

“Sixty-seven meters,” Katsuki scoffed.

 

“Try it with your Quirk.”

 

Aizawa tossed a baseball to Katsuki and pointed to a white circle painted on the dirt. “Anything goes, as long as you stay in the circle. Give it all you’ve got.”

 

Katsuki grinned, a feral, terrifying expression. He stepped into the circle, rolled his shoulders, and stretched his arms. He wound up, his right hand sparking.

 

“DIE!” Katsuki roared.

 

With a deafening blast of ignited nitroglycerin, the ball was launched from his hand like a cannonball, leaving a trail of black smoke in its wake. It arced high into the sky before finally plummeting to the earth far in the distance.

 

Aizawa held up a handheld device. It beeped, and he turned the screen to the class.

 

705.2 meters.

 

The class erupted into gasps and cheers.

 

“Seven hundred meters? That’s insane!”

 

“We get to use our Quirks as much as we want? This looks like fun!”

 

Izuku didn't cheer. He stared at Katsuki’s hand, his mind automatically breaking down the physics. He used the blast at the exact point of release to eliminate air resistance and maximize propulsion. His Quirk isn't just powerful; his control is flawless.

 

“‘Looks like fun,’ you say?” Aizawa’s voice dropped an octave, dripping with menace. The cheers died instantly. “You have three years here to become heroes. You think it’s going to be games and playtime? Idiots.”

 

Aizawa smiled, a chilling, predatory grin that made Izuku’s own reptilian instincts flare up in warning.

 

“Let’s make a new rule. Whoever comes in last place across all eight tests will be judged to have zero potential... and will be punished with immediate expulsion.”

 

“Expulsion?!” the class screamed.

 

“You can’t do that!” Uraraka protested. “It’s the first day! Even if it wasn't, that’s totally unfair!”

 

“Natural disasters, highway pileups, rampaging villains... calamity is always just around the corner,” Aizawa said coldly, running a hand through his hair. “Japan is full of unfairness. Heroes are the ones who correct it. If you were hoping to spend your evenings hanging out at McDonald's, I’m sorry to tell you that for the next three years, U.A. will run you through the wringer. Go beyond. Plus Ultra. Now, let’s begin.”

 

Izuku clenched his massive fists. Expulsion.

 

He looked at his hands. He had the highest raw power in the class, but control was his weakness. If he held back too much, he might fall behind. If he didn't hold back enough, he could destroy the testing equipment or hurt someone. He needed to find the perfect middle ground.

 

Test 1: 50-Meter Dash

 

Iida went first, his engine legs propelling him across the finish line in a blistering 3.04 seconds. A frog-like girl named Tsuyu Asui finished in a respectable 5.58 seconds.

 

Then, it was Izuku’s turn. He was paired against Katsuki.

 

“Don’t you dare hold back, Deku,” Katsuki growled, getting into a runner's stance. Small explosions popped in his palms. “I want to crush you at your best.”

 

Izuku didn't respond. He stepped up to the starting line.

 

I can’t use a full transformation, Izuku thought, his analytical mind racing. The mass would increase my wind resistance and the impact of my footfalls would shatter the track, slowing me down. I just need the fast-twitch muscle fibers of a theropod.

 

Izuku took a deep breath. He focused the burning sensation purely on his lower half.

 

To the absolute horror and fascination of his classmates, Izuku’s legs suddenly expanded. His uniform pants stretched to their limit as his thighs doubled in size, wrapped in thick, dark green scales. His shoes tore open at the toes, revealing three massive, black talons on each foot that dug deep into the dirt track like starting spikes.

 

“Ready... Go!” the robotic voice of the testing machine declared.

 

Katsuki launched himself forward with a massive double-handed explosion, flying over the track.

 

But Izuku didn't run. He pounced.

 

The sheer explosive power of a T-Rex's hind legs—muscles designed to propel seven tons of mass—was now focused entirely on a relatively lightweight, human-sized torso.

 

The dirt beneath Izuku’s feet erupted in a localized shockwave, showering the students behind him in dust. He shot forward like a bullet, crossing the fifty-meter mark in two massive, bounding leaps.

 

He passed Katsuki in a blur of green, the wind pressure of his movement actually destabilizing Katsuki’s flight path and sending the blonde boy spinning awkwardly over the finish line.

 

BEEP.

 

“3.21 seconds,” the machine announced for Izuku.

 

“4.13 seconds,” it announced for Katsuki.

 

Izuku exhaled, the scales on his legs receding, his feet returning to normal (though his shoes were utterly ruined). He stumbled slightly, unused to the sudden loss of mass, but caught himself.

 

Katsuki hit the ground rolling, springing up with a roar of pure fury. “DEKU! You bastard! You deliberately threw wind at me!”

 

“I-I didn't! It was just aerodynamics, Kacchan!” Izuku panicked, waving his hands defensively.

 

Aizawa watched from the sidelines, his eyes narrowed. He isolated the mutation to his legs to maximize speed while minimizing mass. Good. He’s not a brainless brute.

 

Test 2: Grip Strength

 

The students gathered around the grip-strength machines.

 

“Wow, 540 kilograms? Are you a gorilla? Or an octopus?” a student with tape-dispenser elbows marveled, looking at a tall boy with multiple arms.

 

Izuku stood at the back of the group, staring at his grip machine. He wrapped his large hand around the handles and squeezed.

 

Beep. 140 kg.

 

Izuku frowned. It was a high number for a human, but his Quirk didn't naturally enhance his grip strength in his human form. His power was in his jaw, his legs, and his tail. If he wanted to avoid last place, he had to use his Quirk.

 

He raised his hand. “E-Excuse me, Aizawa-sensei?”

 

Aizawa looked over lazily. “What is it, Midoriya?”

 

“The rules said anything goes, right? As long as we measure the force?”

 

Aizawa nodded once. “Correct.”

 

Izuku looked at the small metal device. He couldn't transform his hand into a T-Rex foot—it lacked grasping digits. But he had another tool.

 

Izuku held the device in front of his face. He focused the Quirk on his skull.

 

The students gasped and backed away as Izuku’s jaw violently unhinged. The bones snapped and shifted, his snout elongating, his skin hardening into scales. Rows of six-inch, serrated, bone-crushing teeth materialized in an instant.

 

Izuku placed the grip-strength machine entirely into his massive, reptilian mouth.

 

And he bit down.

 

The sound of shrieking, tortured metal echoed across the field. Izuku didn't just squeeze the device; he crushed the reinforced steel handle flat.

 

He opened his jaws, spitting the mangled, smoking device into his hand, before his face snapped back to its human, freckled form. He looked down at the digital screen, which was cracked but still functioning.

 

He held it up for Aizawa to see.

 

3,410 kg.

 

Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched. He pulled a fresh device from his pocket and tossed it to Izuku. “Don’t break school property again. Note taken.”

 

The rest of the class stared in awed silence.

 

“He... he just bit through solid steel,” Mineta whimpered, clutching his head. “He’s going to eat us. He’s definitely going to eat us.”

 

Test 3 & 4: Standing Long Jump and Repeated Side Steps

 

Izuku easily cleared the sandbox in the long jump by using a partial transformation of his legs again. For the side steps, he struggled slightly. His massive frame made rapid, lateral movements awkward, but he still placed in the upper half of the class.

 

As the tests progressed, it became painfully obvious to everyone present: Izuku Midoriya was in a league of his own. The boy with half-cold, half-hot powers, Todoroki, watched Izuku with a cool, calculating intensity. He realized quickly that the loudly screaming Bakugo was merely a distraction; the true apex predator of this class was the polite, stuttering giant.

 

Test 5: Softball Throw

 

Finally, they returned to the painted circle.

 

Uraraka stepped up and touched the ball, removing its gravity. She tossed it lightly, and it floated infinitely into the sky.

 

“Infinity?!” the class cheered.

 

Then, it was Izuku’s turn.

 

Izuku stepped into the circle. He held the small softball in his massive hand. He had watched Katsuki throw over seven hundred meters. He had watched Uraraka get infinity.

 

I can’t transform my arm into anything useful for throwing, Izuku analyzed. T-Rex arms are notoriously short and weak. Throwing it like a human, even with my base strength, will only net me about eighty meters.

 

He closed his eyes. I have to use the tail.

 

Izuku turned his back to the open field.

 

“Hey, he’s facing the wrong way,” the lightning boy, Kaminari, pointed out.

 

“Watch closely,” Iida whispered in awe.

 

Izuku tossed the softball lightly into the air, about ten feet above his head.

 

As the ball reached its apex and began to fall, Izuku unleashed his Quirk. He focused the entirety of the transformation on his spine and lower torso. His uniform stretched violently as a massive, heavily armored, five-ton tail erupted from his tailbone. The sheer weight of it cracked the concrete circle beneath his feet.

 

At the same time, Izuku dropped low and spun on his heel. He was acting as the fulcrum of a massive, organic trebuchet.

 

He whipped his hips around, bringing the colossal tail in a devastating, upward arc.

 

WHAM!

 

The impact was so loud it sounded like a sonic boom. A massive shockwave of displaced air blasted outward, kicking up a wall of dirt and nearly knocking Mineta and Kaminari off their feet.

 

The softball was flattened into a pancake by the sheer kinetic force before it rebounded, launching into the stratosphere at a terrifying velocity, leaving a vapor trail in the sky.

 

Izuku let the tail dissolve into steam, panting slightly. He turned to look at Aizawa, waiting for the result.

 

Aizawa looked at his device. The screen beeped.

 

Aizawa didn't show the screen to the class immediately. Instead, he stared at Izuku, his tired eyes sharp and piercing. He walked slowly toward the boy, his capture scarf shifting slightly around his neck.

 

“Midoriya,” Aizawa said, his voice low enough that only Izuku could hear.

 

“Y-Yes, sir?” Izuku gulped.

 

“You’ve been holding back all day. Using partial transformations to isolate your power and avoid collateral damage.” Aizawa stopped a few feet away. “You have a good head on your shoulders. You understand the fundamental flaw of your Quirk.”

 

Izuku nodded slowly. “My mass. If I go full size in a city, I could crush a building just by turning around. Or deafen civilians with my roar.”

 

Aizawa’s eyes glowed briefly with a red light, and his hair levitated. Izuku felt a sudden, terrifying emptiness in his bones. The ever-present hum of the Tyrant King vanished. Aizawa had erased his Quirk.

 

“Raw power like yours is a beacon, Midoriya,” Aizawa warned coldly. “It makes you the strongest student here, yes. But it also makes you a target. Villains will look at you and see a weapon of mass destruction. If you ever lose control, if you ever let the beast take the wheel, you won't be a hero. You’ll be a natural disaster. And heroes will have to put you down.”

 

Izuku felt a chill run down his spine. He remembered the feeling in the entrance exam—the Predator’s Frenzy. The primal urge to destroy the Zero Pointer not to save Uraraka, but simply because it challenged his dominance.

 

Aizawa blinked, his hair falling, returning Izuku’s Quirk to him.

 

“Never forget that. Your power is a responsibility, not a right,” Aizawa said, his tone softening just a fraction. He turned the device around.

 

912.5 meters.

 

The class erupted again, completely unaware of the heavy conversation that had just occurred.

 

“Over nine hundred meters?!”

 

“He didn't even use his hands! He batted it with his tail like a baseball player!”

 

Katsuki stood on the sidelines, his entire body trembling. His palms were sweating nitroglycerin, popping and fizzing uncontrollably.

 

912 meters.

 

Katsuki’s mind flashed back to the playground ten years ago. The massive jaws. The terrifying roar. The feeling of absolute, paralyzing helplessness.

 

He had spent ten years convincing himself that Izuku was a freak, a monster that society would reject. He had told himself that his explosions were the pinnacle of heroism. But standing here, watching Izuku effortlessly shatter records without even fully using his Quirk, the illusion shattered.

 

Izuku wasn't a freak. He was an apex predator. And Katsuki was just prey.

 

“DEKU!”

 

Katsuki couldn't take it anymore. Rationality completely abandoned him. He launched himself forward, explosions rocketing from his palms, aiming straight for Izuku’s back.

 

“Tell me how you did that! You’ve been hiding your true strength to mock me, haven't you?!” Katsuki screamed, his face contorted in rage.

 

Izuku turned around, his eyes widening. He instinctively brought his thick, muscular arms up to guard his face.

 

But Katsuki never reached him.

 

A gray cloth wrapped tightly around Katsuki’s waist and arms, pulling taut. Katsuki grunted, struggling against the bindings, but he couldn't ignite his explosions.

 

“What the... this cloth is hard!” Katsuki grunted.

 

“It’s a capture weapon made of carbon fiber woven with metal wire,” Aizawa sighed, his eyes glowing red again, keeping Katsuki’s Quirk erased. “Stop using your Quirk so haphazardly. It’s drying out my eyes.”

 

Aizawa yanked the cloth, spinning Katsuki away from Izuku. “We’re wasting time. Whoever is next, step up.”

 

Katsuki stumbled, catching his balance. He glared at Izuku, chest heaving. Izuku looked back, his green eyes filled with a mixture of pity and anxiety. He didn't want to fight Kacchan. He never did. But he wasn't going to hide anymore, either.

 

 

 

The sun began to set, casting long golden shadows over the U.A. track field.

 

Aizawa stood before a holographic projection displaying the final rankings.

 

Izuku’s eyes scanned the list rapidly. He felt a massive weight lift off his chest as he found his name.

 

1. Midoriya Izuku

2. Yaoyorozu Momo

3. Todoroki Shoto

4. Bakugo Katsuki

5. Iida Tenya

 

Izuku had done it. He had taken first place.

 

He looked down the list and saw the name of the boy with the sticky balls, Mineta Minoru, in twentieth place. Mineta was weeping on the ground, completely inconsolable, muttering about how he would never get to be a popular hero.

 

“By the way,” Aizawa said, flipping his sleeping bag over his shoulder. “I was lying about the expulsion.”

 

The class froze.

 

“It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your Quirks.” Aizawa offered a terrifying, shark-like grin.

 

“WHAT?!” half the class screamed.

 

“Of course it was a lie,” the tall girl with a ponytail, Yaoyorozu, sighed, shaking her head. “It was fairly obvious if you thought about it.”

 

“I didn't think it was obvious at all!” a boy with red, spiky hair, Kirishima, groaned.

 

Aizawa turned to walk away. “With that, we’re done. There are handouts with the syllabus and such in the classroom. When you get back, look them over. Midoriya.”

 

Izuku stiffened. “Yes, sir?”

 

“Go to Recovery Girl. The friction burns on your uniform suggest your scales were grating against the fabric during your sprints. Have her look at it. You need to learn how to transition smoother.”

 

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Izuku bowed deeply.

 

As the class began to file back toward the locker rooms, Izuku felt a hand on his massive shoulder. He turned to see Kirishima grinning up at him.

 

“Hey, Midoriya, right? I’m Eijiro Kirishima!” The red-haired boy pumped his fist. “Your Quirk is so incredibly manly! That tail smash was out of this world!”

 

“O-Oh! Thank you!” Izuku blushed, rubbing his neck.

 

“Seriously, you’re like a walking tank!” Kaminari chimed in, walking up beside them. “I was terrified of you when you walked in, but you’re actually a pretty chill guy, huh?”

 

“I agree,” Tokoyami, a boy with a bird-like head, said from the shadows. “A terrifying visage masking a noble spirit. A fitting paradox for a hero.”

 

Izuku felt a lump form in his throat. He had spent his entire life being feared, alienated, or stared at like a zoo animal. But here, among the future heroes of Japan, he was just another classmate. A powerful one, yes, but a classmate nonetheless.

 

He looked ahead and saw Katsuki stomping toward the main building, his shoulders hunched, radiating explosive fury.

 

Then, Izuku felt a gaze burning into the side of his head. He looked to his left.

 

Shoto Todoroki was walking parallel to him. The boy with the dual-colored hair stared at Izuku with cold, calculating eyes. There was no fear in Todoroki’s gaze. Only a silent, intense challenge.

 

A target, Aizawa’s words echoed in Izuku’s mind. Raw power like yours makes you a target.

 

Izuku took a deep breath, his massive chest expanding. He wasn't on the beach cleaning trash anymore. He was at the pinnacle of hero society. The strongest first-year.

 

He didn't shrink under Todoroki’s gaze. He straightened his back, bringing himself to his full, towering height, and met the boy’s eyes with a gentle, but unyielding determination.

 

He was the Tyrant King. And he was ready to prove that a monster could be a hero.

 

 

 

“I AM ENTERING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!”

 

The booming voice of the Symbol of Peace echoed through the classroom, instantly dispelling the afternoon lethargy of Class 1-A. All Might marched through the oversized doorway, decked out in his Silver Age hero costume—a vibrant, primary-colored spandex suit with a billowing red cape.

 

Izuku sat up straighter, his massive chest swelling with awe. Even after meeting the man and hearing his encouragement in the tunnel ten months ago, seeing All Might in the flesh, acting as their teacher, was a surreal experience.

 

“Hero Basic Training!” All Might declared, flexing a bicep that was roughly the size of a tree trunk. “The class that will put you through all sorts of special training to mold you into the heroes of tomorrow! No time to dally! Today’s activity is... Battle Training!”

 

Katsuki Bakugo, seated a few rows ahead of Izuku, let out a low, feral chuckle. “Battle.”

 

“And to go with that...” All Might pointed a remote at the wall, prompting four rows of numbered metal briefcases to slide out from hidden compartments. “Costumes made based on your Quirk registrations and the requests you sent in before school started! Get changed and gather at Ground Beta!”

 

Izuku stood up, carefully navigating around his desk, and retrieved briefcase number eighteen. It was noticeably larger and heavier than the others.

 

When Izuku submitted his costume design, he had heavily emphasized the need for durability over aesthetics. His Quirk was a logistical nightmare for standard fabrics. A full transformation increased his mass and volume exponentially, while partial transformations required localized, extreme stretching. He couldn't afford to be fighting villains naked because his clothes ripped every time he used his power.

 

Ten minutes later, Class 1-A emerged from the tunnel leading into the faux-city of Ground Beta.

 

“They say the clothes make the pro, young men and ladies!” All Might boomed, standing with his hands on his hips. “And you all look positively heroic! Now then, let’s see what we—good heavens, young Midoriya!”

 

The class turned, and several students openly gawked.

 

Izuku stepped out of the tunnel, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. At six-foot-four and built like a tank, he already commanded attention. His hero costume, however, amplified his intimidating presence tenfold.

 

He wore no traditional shirt. Instead, his upper torso was strapped into a dark green, high-tensile tactical harness that formed an 'X' over his broad chest, connecting to a heavy, reinforced utility belt. This left his muscular arms and chest bare, ensuring that if his torso needed to expand or sprout scales, there was no fabric to restrict or tear.

 

His lower half was clad in heavy-duty, dark charcoal combat pants made of the same specialized stretch-polymer as his gym uniform, designed to withstand the violent friction of erupting osteoderms. The pants were baggy but tapered down into massive, heavy-tread combat boots that were engineered with break-away seams, allowing his three-toed talons to burst through without ruining the footwear permanently.

 

Around his neck rested a thick, protective metallic collar, and a specialized dark-green rebreather mask hung loosely around his chin, capable of dropping down or snapping apart if his jaw unhinged.

 

“It’s a bit... bare,” Izuku rumbled apologetically, feeling the eyes of his classmates on his exposed arms. “But it’s the only way I can transform quickly without ruining the support company's hard work.”

 

“It is immensely practical for a mutant-type!” Iida praised, marching over in his full suit of white armor. “A hero must prioritize function over modesty when lives are on the line!”

 

“I think it looks awesome, Midoriya!” Uraraka cheered. She jogged over, wearing a sleek, form-fitting pink and black suit. “You look like a gladiator or a pro wrestler!”

 

“Th-Thank you, Uraraka,” Izuku stuttered, his face flushing violently. He tried very hard to keep his eyes politely focused on the wall behind her.

 

“Tch. You look like a damn extra in a monster movie,” Katsuki sneered as he walked past. The blonde boy’s costume was aggressively militaristic, featuring massive, grenade-shaped gauntlets on his forearms and a domino mask with sharp, explosive flares.

 

Izuku didn't shrink away this time. He just watched Katsuki walk toward the front of the group, a heavy, sinking feeling settling in his stomach. The hostility radiating from his childhood friend was suffocating.

 

“Now then!” All Might clapped his hands, drawing their attention. “The situation is this! The villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hideout! The heroes must foil their plans! The heroes must either catch the villains with capture tape or secure the weapon! The villains must either protect the weapon until the time limit expires, or capture the heroes!”

 

All Might held up a yellow box. “Teams and opponents will be determined by drawing lots!”

 

Izuku reached into the box when his turn came. He pulled out a black ball with a white ‘A’.

 

“Team A!” Uraraka bounded over, holding up an identical ball. “We’re together again, Midoriya! This is fate!”

 

Izuku smiled, a genuine, warm expression that momentarily broke through his intimidating visage. “I’m glad it’s you, Uraraka. I’ll do my best to protect you.”

 

“Moving on to the first match!” All Might plunged his hands into two separate boxes, pulling out two balls. He held them up. “Team A will be the Heroes! Team D will be the Villains!”

 

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat.

 

Team D. He looked across the crowd. Katsuki was standing next to Iida. The blonde boy was already looking at him, a wide, unhinged smile stretching across his face.

 

Katsuki dragged a thumb across his throat.

 

He’s going to come for me, Izuku thought. His reptilian instincts, ever-present beneath the surface, began to hum. A low, barely audible rumble vibrated in his chest. He won't care about the objective. He wants to prove he’s stronger than me.

 

All Might instructed the rest of the class to head to the monitor room. Team D was given five minutes to enter the building and set up their defenses.

 

Izuku and Uraraka stood outside the building, staring up at the concrete façade.

 

“So, what’s the plan?” Uraraka asked, punching her fists together. “We just go in and you smash everything, right? Like you did with the robots?”

 

“No,” Izuku said, his deep voice serious. He pulled a map of the building from his utility belt. “That’s the one thing I absolutely cannot do. If I go full size inside this building, the expansion of my mass will shatter the support pillars. The building will collapse. We’d fail the exercise, and worse, we could kill Kacchan and Iida.”

 

Uraraka blinked, suddenly realizing the terrifying reality of Izuku’s power. “Oh. Right. So... what do you do?”

 

“I use localized shifts,” Izuku explained, pointing to his heavily muscled arms. “I can harden my skin into scales, increase my density, and grow my tail for balance and close-quarters combat. I can still use the raw strength of the Tyrant King, just compressed into a human-sized package.”

 

He looked up from the map, meeting Uraraka’s eyes.

 

“Uraraka. Kacchan is going to ignore you completely. He’s going to hunt me down. He thinks I’ve been looking down on him our whole lives.” Izuku took a deep breath. “I’m going to act as bait. And a wall. I will draw him out and keep him entirely focused on me. I need you to find Iida, locate the weapon, and secure it while I keep Kacchan busy.”

 

“Are you sure?” Uraraka asked, concerned. “Bakugo looked really mad. His Quirk is super dangerous.”

 

Izuku’s eyes hardened. A flash of predatory orange bled into his green irises for a fraction of a second.

 

“I’m sure. Explosions don’t work on me.”

 

 

 

Inside the monitor room, Class 1-A watched the large screens displaying the interior of the building.

 

“This is a terrifying matchup,” Kaminari whispered, leaning against the console. “Midoriya is a powerhouse, but in a confined space, Bakugo’s explosions are going to be deadly. The shockwaves alone will bounce off the walls.”

 

“Midoriya is at a severe disadvantage,” Yaoyorozu analyzed, her arms crossed. “His Quirk relies on massive kinetic force and size. Inside those tight corridors, he is essentially stripped of his greatest weapons. If he transforms, he risks structural collapse. If he stays human, Bakugo’s firepower will overwhelm him.”

 

Standing at the back of the room, Shoto Todoroki watched the screen in silence. His dual-colored eyes narrowed as the camera focused on Izuku stepping through the first-floor window.

 

Let’s see what you really are, Midoriya, Todoroki thought.

 

“BEGIN!” All Might’s voice echoed over the intercoms.

 

 

 

Izuku and Uraraka slipped through the window, stepping quietly into a dimly lit, concrete hallway.

 

“Stay behind me,” Izuku whispered, his deep voice barely a rumble in the silence.

 

He didn't activate his Quirk yet, but his senses were already naturally heightened. His olfactory receptors flared, sorting through the smells of dust, old concrete, and Uraraka’s floral shampoo.

 

And then, he smelled it.

 

Burnt sugar. Nitroglycerin. Ozone.

 

He’s close, Izuku thought, his muscles tensing. Above us. Coming down the stairs.

 

Izuku raised a hand, signaling Uraraka to stop. They were halfway down a long corridor. To their right was an intersecting hallway.

 

Izuku stepped squarely into the middle of the intersection. He planted his heavy boots into the linoleum floor.

 

“Kacchan,” Izuku rumbled into the silence. “I know you’re there.”

 

From the shadows of the cross-corridor, a figure stepped out. Katsuki’s red eyes glowed with barely suppressed mania. His gauntlets gleamed in the dim light.

 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Deku,” Katsuki hissed, small explosions popping in his palms like firecrackers. “Telling the extra to hide behind you. You think you’re the boss now? You think just because you got a lucky hit on a robot, you’re better than me?”

 

“I never thought I was better than you, Kacchan,” Izuku said calmly. His lack of fear only seemed to enrage Katsuki further. “But I’m not going to let you hurt people anymore. And I’m not going to run away from you.”

 

“THEN DIE!”

 

Katsuki didn't just run; he propelled himself forward with a massive, two-handed explosion. He crossed the twenty feet between them in a fraction of a second, rocketing through the air, his right hand reeled back.

 

“Midoriya!” Uraraka screamed.

 

Izuku didn't flinch. He didn't dodge.

 

As Katsuki swung his right hand forward, unleashing a blinding, deafening blast of fire and concussive force point-blank at Izuku’s face, Izuku tapped into the Tyrant King.

 

The hallway lit up in a blinding flash of orange and red. The shockwave rattled the building, blowing out the windows at the end of the hall. Dust and smoke billowed instantly, obscuring the intersection.

 

In the monitor room, several students winced.

 

“A surprise attack right out of the gate!” Mineta yelled. “That’s cheating!”

 

“A sneak attack is a valid strategy in real combat,” Aizawa’s voice echoed in Izuku’s memory, but All Might spoke aloud to the class, “Bakugo is playing the part of a villain perfectly! But...”

 

All Might grinned, watching the smoke clear on the screen.

 

Back in the hallway, Katsuki landed on his feet, a cruel smirk on his face. “That’s what you get, you stupid lizard.”

 

“Uraraka. Go.”

 

Katsuki’s smirk vanished.

 

The smoke dissipated, sucked out of the broken windows.

 

Izuku stood exactly where he had been. He hadn't moved a single inch. His tactical harness was slightly scorched, but beneath it, his skin was no longer human.

 

Thick, jagged, emerald-green scales covered his arms, chest, neck, and face. His jaw had slightly elongated, his teeth sharpening into predatory fangs. His eyes were no longer green; they were a terrifying, glowing blood-orange, with vertical slit pupils locked dead onto Katsuki.

 

Katsuki’s explosion had hit Izuku flush in the face. But a T-Rex's scales, especially one genetically mutated and enhanced by a Quirk, were designed to withstand the crushing bites of rival multi-ton predators. A blast of heat and concussive force was practically nothing.

 

Izuku blinked his inner eyelid, clearing the soot from his eyes.

 

“Right!” Uraraka gasped, recovering from her shock. She darted past the standoff, sprinting down the hallway toward the stairs to find Iida.

 

Katsuki moved to intercept her, raising his left hand. “Get back here, you—”

 

WHAM.

 

Izuku moved with terrifying speed. He stepped into Katsuki’s guard, his massive, scaled forearm swinging like a baseball bat. He struck Katsuki squarely in the chest.

 

The air left Katsuki’s lungs in a violent rush. He was launched backward, skidding ten feet across the linoleum floor before crashing into the concrete wall.

 

“I said,” Izuku’s voice was no longer a human rumble. It was a terrifying, guttural growl that vibrated the dust off the ceiling. “I’m your opponent, Kacchan.”

 

Katsuki coughed, pushing himself up off the floor. His ribs throbbed. He looked up at Izuku. The boy was partially transformed, looking like a terrifying half-dragon, half-man hybrid.

 

“You... you think you can take me without going full size?” Katsuki snarled, his pride wounded. He ignited both palms, the light casting demonic shadows across his face. “I’LL TEAR THOSE SCALES OFF ONE BY ONE!”

 

Katsuki launched himself forward again. This time, he didn't aim for a single strike. He utilized his mobility, using rapid, staccato explosions to bounce off the walls and ceiling, ricocheting around the tight corridor like a deadly, fiery pinball.

 

He came down from above, unleashing a massive blast aimed at the back of Izuku’s neck.

 

Izuku ducked slightly. The Predator’s Frenzy was buzzing in the back of his mind, heightening his reflexes. He couldn't see Katsuki mid-air, but he could hear the crackle of the explosions and track the heat signature.

 

Izuku swung his right arm backward. His hand morphed, his fingers fusing and sharpening into three massive, black talons. He slashed through the air.

 

The claws caught the shockwave of Katsuki’s blast, literally tearing the explosion in half. Fire washed over Izuku’s scaled arm, leaving him completely unharmed.

 

Katsuki landed behind him, instantly spinning and firing a low blast at Izuku’s legs.

 

Izuku jumped. As he did, he focused his Quirk on his lower spine.

 

With a sickening crunch of expanding cartilage, a massive, muscular tail erupted from the base of his spine. The heavy counterbalance appendage slammed into the floor, shattering the tiles. Izuku used the tail as a spring, pushing himself backward, out of the blast zone, and instantly swinging the tail in a devastating lateral arc.

 

Katsuki saw the massive, scaly appendage rushing toward him and threw his arms up, firing an explosion to counter the momentum.

 

The explosion collided with the heavy osteoderms of Izuku’s tail. The resulting kinetic clash created a shockwave that threw Katsuki backward, rolling down the hallway. Izuku’s tail slammed into the wall, caving in the drywall and exposing the rebar beneath.

 

Izuku recalled the tail instantly, letting it dissolve into steam. He couldn't keep it out in these tight quarters without bringing the ceiling down.

 

“Damn it!” Katsuki screamed, getting to his feet again. His palms were smoking heavily.

 

He was attacking with everything he had, but it was like fighting a mountain. Izuku was too heavy to be blown away by normal blasts, and his scales were completely impervious to the heat.

 

In the monitor room, the class was dead silent.

 

“He’s... he’s completely dominating Bakugo,” Kirishima whispered in awe. “He’s not even attacking that much. He’s just standing there, parrying everything.”

 

“Midoriya’s defense is absolute,” Yaoyorozu observed, her eyes wide. “He’s using partial transformations seamlessly. Expanding his mass just enough to parry or strike, then immediately retracting it to maintain his mobility in the hallway. It requires terrifying focus to manipulate a mutation Quirk like that in real-time.”

 

Todoroki stared at the screen, his right side suddenly feeling very cold.

 

He’s immune to heat and concussive force, Todoroki analyzed. Bakugo’s fire doesn't even scorch him. If I fought him... my ice would be shattered by his physical strength, and my fire would be useless against his armor.

 

Todoroki clenched his fist. Izuku Midoriya was a wall that could not be burned down.

 

Inside the building, Katsuki was breathing heavily. The sheer physical exertion of using chain explosions was taking its toll, but it was nothing compared to the psychological damage he was taking.

 

Why?! Katsuki’s mind screamed. Why can’t I hurt him?! He’s just Deku! He’s the crying little pebble from the playground!

 

Katsuki looked down at the massive, grenade-shaped gauntlets on his arms. They were a support item he had requested specifically to store his nitroglycerin sweat. When they were full, he could unleash a blast exponentially more powerful than what his body could naturally produce.

 

He looked at Izuku, who was standing twenty feet away, his chest heaving slightly, his reptilian eyes glowing in the dark hallway.

 

“You think you’re invincible, Deku?” Katsuki whispered, a dangerous, unhinged calm settling over him. He raised his right arm, pointing the massive gauntlet directly at Izuku. He reached up with his left hand, grabbing the metal pin on the side.

 

“If they made this costume the way I asked...” Katsuki smiled, his teeth bared in a snarl. “These gauntlets store my nitroglycerin sweat. The more I sweat, the bigger the boom.”

 

In the monitor room, All Might leaned forward, his eyes widening in alarm. He recognized the design of the gauntlets. If Bakugo had been sweating this entire fight, the payload in that chamber was immense.

 

“Young Bakugo, stop!” All Might yelled into the microphone. “Are you trying to kill him?! A blast that size in an enclosed space will vaporize the corridor!”

 

Katsuki’s earpiece crackled with All Might’s warning. He ignored it.

 

“If he doesn't dodge, he won't die!” Katsuki screamed, pulling the pin.

 

The release valve clicked open. A massive influx of concentrated nitroglycerin flooded the ignition chamber of the gauntlet.

 

Izuku’s reptilian eyes widened. His senses screamed at him. The smell of the explosive was overwhelming. He knew, with absolute certainty, that this blast was on a completely different level.

 

If I dodge, Izuku realized in a fraction of a second, the blast will continue down the hallway. It will blow through the walls. It might hit Uraraka upstairs.

 

He couldn't dodge. He had to be the wall.

 

Izuku roared. He widened his stance, digging his heavy boots into the floor. He focused the entirety of his Quirk onto his front side. The scales on his chest and arms grew thicker, layering over each other in dark, impenetrable slabs of biological armor. He crossed his massive arms in front of his face, tucking his chin down.

 

A blinding, sun-like flash of light erupted from Katsuki’s gauntlet.

 

The explosion was catastrophic. A massive, roaring pillar of fire and concussive force tore through the hallway. The walls instantly charred black. The concrete floor shattered. The sheer heat sucked the oxygen out of the air.

 

The blast wave hit Izuku like a runaway freight train.

 

Even with his immense weight and enhanced density, Izuku was pushed backward. His boots carved deep trenches into the floor as he slid back ten feet, fifteen feet. The fire washed over him, a roaring inferno that scorched his tactical harness and blackened his scales.

 

In the monitor room, the cameras cut to static as the shockwave rattled the building.

 

“Midoriya!” Kirishima yelled.

 

“Sir, you have to stop this match!” Yaoyorozu pleaded to All Might. “That level of lethal force—”

 

The cameras flickered back online. The hallway was filled with thick, black smoke. Small fires burned on the ruined linoleum.

 

Katsuki stood at the end of the hall, his right arm trembling from the recoil of the massive blast. He panted heavily, staring into the smoke.

 

“Hah... hah...” Katsuki laughed, a manic, breathless sound. “I told you... I told you I’d tear those scales off...”

 

From deep within the smoke, a sound answered him.

 

Thump.

 

A heavy footfall that vibrated the floor.

 

Katsuki froze.

 

Thump.

 

The smoke began to part, swirling away in the wake of a massive, advancing figure.

 

Izuku walked out of the inferno. His tactical harness was completely melted off, hanging in useless straps around his waist. His arms and chest were pitch black, covered in thick soot, and small plumes of steam were rising from the scorched scales.

 

But he wasn't bleeding. He wasn't broken.

 

He lowered his arms, revealing his face. His reptilian eyes were blazing with the raw, unchecked fury of the Predator’s Frenzy. The heat of the blast had triggered a deep, primal anger in the Tyrant King.

 

“Kacchan,” Izuku growled, his voice a terrifying, demonic rumble that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

 

Katsuki took a step back. For the first time in ten years, genuine, unadulterated fear seized his heart. The explosion that was meant to break the monster had only succeeded in pissing it off.

 

“S-Stay back!” Katsuki yelled, raising his left arm. He didn't have time to pull the pin on the second gauntlet. He fired a standard, two-handed blast.

 

Izuku didn't brace himself this time. He charged right through it.

 

The fire splashed harmlessly against Izuku’s chest as he closed the distance in a single, terrifying leap.

 

Katsuki barely had time to widen his eyes before a massive, three-toed foot, thick with scales and tipped with razor-sharp black talons, slammed into his chest.

 

Izuku drove Katsuki into the ground with the force of a pile driver. The concrete floor spider-webbed under the impact. Katsuki gasped, all the air violently expelled from his lungs. He was pinned flat on his back, the massive weight of Izuku’s foot crushing his chest, rendering him completely immobile.

 

Izuku stood over him, leaning down. His face was inches from Katsuki’s.

 

The Predator’s Frenzy urged Izuku to bite. To crush the rival alpha's skull and establish total dominance.

 

Izuku fought it. He dug his human fingernails into his own palms so hard they drew blood, using the pain to anchor his rational mind. He wouldn't kill Kacchan. He was a hero.

 

But he had to end the fight. He had to make sure Katsuki wouldn't get back up.

 

Izuku unhinged his jaw. He drew in a massive breath, his barrel chest expanding to its absolute limit.

 

“Young Midoriya!” All Might’s voice panicked over the intercom. “Do not use lethal force!”

 

Izuku didn't use force. He used sound.

 

Izuku unleashed a point-blank, localized T-Rex roar directly into Katsuki’s face.

 

It wasn't a roar designed to carry across a valley. It was a concentrated, concussive wave of sound designed to paralyze prey. The decibel level exceeded that of a jet engine taking off. The sheer acoustic pressure distorted the air between them.

 

Katsuki’s eyes rolled back in his head. The primal terror induced by the sound, combined with the concussive force rattling his skull, overloaded his nervous system entirely.

 

The roar lasted for three agonizing seconds. When Izuku finally snapped his jaws shut, silence rushed back into the hallway.

 

Katsuki lay pinned beneath Izuku’s foot, completely catatonic. He wasn't unconscious, but his body was limp, his eyes wide and vacant, staring blankly at the ceiling. His brain had essentially blue-screened from terror.

 

Izuku breathed heavily, the adrenaline slowly receding. He willed the transformation to drop. The thick scales dissolved into steam, his jaw snapped back into its human shape, and his glowing orange eyes faded back to a soft, tired green.

 

He stepped off Katsuki, rubbing his soot-covered chest.

 

“Midoriya!” Uraraka’s voice came crackling over his earpiece. “I did it! I secured the weapon! Iida is captured!”

 

“HERO TEAM... WINS!” All Might announced over the intercom, his voice a mixture of relief and absolute awe.

 

 

 

Back in the monitor room, the silence was thicker than the smoke in the hallway had been.

 

Class 1-A stared at the screen, watching the exhausted, half-naked giant slowly lift his childhood rival onto his shoulder to carry him to the infirmary.

 

“He... he tanked a massive explosion to the face, walked through fire, and neutralized Bakugo with a single foot stomp and a scream,” Kaminari summarized, his voice trembling slightly. “Is he even human?”

 

“He’s a monster,” Mineta whimpered, hiding behind Tsuyu.

 

“He is a hero,” Tokoyami corrected firmly, his arms crossed. “He took the full brunt of that attack to protect the integrity of the building and his teammate upstairs. He absorbed the fury of the aggressor and answered with overwhelming, yet non-lethal, suppression.”

 

“Tokoyami is correct,” Yaoyorozu agreed, her eyes shining with respect. “Midoriya could have easily broken Bakugo’s bones, or worse. The control he demonstrated over his mutant Quirks, prioritizing defense and psychological incapacitation over pure physical destruction, is professional-grade.”

 

All Might stood near the console, his massive chest swelling with pride. He remembered the boy crying in the tunnel ten months ago, asking if a monster could be a hero.

 

You’ve proven it today, young Midoriya, All Might thought. You have the heart of a savior trapped in the body of a tyrant.

 

The door to the monitor room opened a few minutes later. Izuku walked in, having dropped Katsuki off with the recovery bots. His upper body was still bare and covered in soot, but he offered the class a tired, apologetic smile.

 

“S-Sorry if I worried anyone,” Izuku rumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Kacchan’s blast was a little hotter than I expected.”

 

The class immediately swarmed him.

 

“Dude, you are so manly!” Kirishima yelled, clapping Izuku on the back (and wincing slightly at how hard the boy’s muscles were).

 

“That roar was terrifying! I got goosebumps through the screen!” Ashido cheered.

 

Izuku blushed furiously, completely overwhelmed by the positive attention. He was so used to being feared or hated that being praised for his Quirk felt alien.

 

As the class celebrated around him, Izuku felt that familiar, chilling gaze again.

 

He looked through the crowd. Shoto Todoroki was standing in the back corner of the room. The boy with the dual-colored hair wasn't cheering. He wasn't smiling. He was staring directly at Izuku.

 

Todoroki raised his right hand—the hand that produced ice—and looked at it, before clenching it into a fist and looking back at Izuku.

 

You’re the one, Todoroki’s eyes seemed to say. You’re the one I have to break.

 

Izuku held the gaze. He didn't want to fight Todoroki. He didn't want enemies in this class. But as he stood there, the soot on his chest hiding the fading outline of his impenetrable scales, Izuku realized something Aizawa had told him was absolutely true.

 

He was the strongest in the room. And he was standing at the very top of the mountain, waiting for the challengers to climb.

 

I won't lose, Izuku thought, the heart of the Tyrant King beating a slow, steady rhythm in his chest. No matter who comes for me, I will be the wall that protects.