What If Deku Had a T Rex Quirk but Just Wanted to Become a Farmer

 

The morning sun peaked over the crowded skyline of Musutafu, casting long, golden rays through the dense forest of apartment buildings. On the fourth floor of one particularly unremarkable complex, a shadow was cast against the sliding glass door of the Midoriya residence. It was a massive shadow, broad-shouldered and hunched, sporting a thick, jagged silhouette that looked like it belonged in a prehistoric jungle rather than a suburban Japanese balcony.

 

The sliding door clicked open.

 

Izuku Midoriya stepped out into the morning air.

 

To the untrained eye, Izuku was a monster. He stood an imposing seven feet tall, his body a mountain of dense, emerald-green muscle covered in thick, interlocking reptilian scales. A row of dark, jagged scutes ran down his spine, culminating in a heavy, counter-balancing tail that thumped softly against the concrete floor. His face was a terrifying hybrid of a human teenager and an apex predator—a slightly elongated snout, a jawline packed with rows of razor-sharp, serrated teeth, and two large, golden reptilian eyes with slit pupils.

 

He was wearing a custom-tailored, spectacularly oversized pair of heavy-duty denim overalls, a white t-shirt stretched over his massive chest, and a wide-brimmed straw hat resting perfectly between his cranial ridges.

 

Izuku let out a long, rumbling breath that sounded like a heavy diesel engine turning over. He reached into the deep pocket of his overalls with a massive, three-fingered claw. The talons on his fingers were long enough to gut a wild boar.

 

With agonizing care, the giant dinosaur-boy pinched a tiny, delicate pair of pruning shears between the very tips of his terrifying claws.

 

"Okay, little guy," Izuku rumbled, his voice surprisingly soft and melodic, despite vibrating with the baritone acoustics of a cavern. "Let's see how you did overnight."

 

He knelt down, his massive knees cracking slightly, and leaned over a tiny wooden table. Resting on the table was an ancient, beautifully twisting Juniper bonsai tree. Izuku adjusted his straw hat, leaned his massive snout in close, and gently, with the precision of a master surgeon, snipped a single, slightly yellowed pine needle.

 

"Perfect," he whispered, a terrifying, toothy grin spreading across his face that would have sent a hardened criminal running for the hills. "The soil pH is neutralizing nicely. The nitrogen additive did the trick."

 

"Izuku, sweetie?" a voice called from inside the apartment.

 

Inko Midoriya peeked her head out the sliding door. She was a small, plump woman who barely reached her son's elbow. When she looked at him, she didn't see an ancient beast of destruction; she just saw her boy.

 

"Breakfast is ready, dear. You have school today, remember?"

 

"Coming, Mom!" Izuku called back happily. He set the pruning shears down, pulled a small spray bottle from his other pocket, and gave the bonsai three polite mists of distilled water. He stood up, carefully maneuvering his thick, scaly tail so he wouldn't knock over the racks of cherry tomatoes he had growing by the railing, and squeezed his massive frame back through the sliding glass door.

 

The Midoriya household had long ago adapted to Izuku's... uniqueness. The doorframes were raised, the dining chairs were reinforced with steel piping, and the plates were extra-large.

 

Izuku sat down at the table, his tail resting on a specialized padded stool, and picked up a pair of reinforced titanium chopsticks. He began to eat his grilled fish and rice with delicate, practiced motions.

 

"Are you excited for today?" Inko asked, sipping her tea. "The school is handing out the high school career path forms."

 

Izuku’s golden eyes brightened, the slit pupils expanding in the low light of the kitchen. "I am! I've been doing a lot of research, Mom. Did you know U.A. High School has a fully enclosed, climate-controlled ecological dome? They use it for disaster rescue training, but the environmental regulators they have installed are state-of-the-art. They can simulate a sudden winter frost in the middle of July!"

 

Inko smiled gently, though a hint of worry creased her brow. "U.A. High... That's the top hero school in the country, Izuku. Are you sure you want to go there? You know how dangerous the Hero Course is."

 

"Oh, I'm not applying for the Hero Course," Izuku said around a mouthful of rice, completely baffled by the idea. "I'm applying for General Studies. Class 1-C. I read in a forum that if you have a compelling independent study project, the principal might grant you access to the environmental domes. Do you know what I could grow in there, Mom? I could test my theories on accelerated crop cycles! I could cross-breed the heirloom tomatoes with the cold-resistant winter squashes!"

 

Inko sighed, a smile breaking through her worry. "Well, whatever makes you happy, dear. Just... be prepared. You know how Katsuki gets when you talk about not being a hero."

 

Izuku stopped chewing. A shadow passed over his golden eyes. "Kacchan... Kacchan doesn't understand. Just because I can bite a car in half doesn't mean I want to."

 

 

 

Izuku Midoriya’s Quirk, registered officially as "Tyrant," had manifested when he was four years old.

 

Usually, Quirks were simple. A child might breathe a little fire, or levitate a small toy. Izuku’s manifestation had involved a sudden, violent expansion of bone and muscle in the middle of a kindergarten sandbox, resulting in a terrified, wailing, four-ton Tyrannosaurus Rex flattening the jungle gym.

 

It was a mutant-transformation hybrid. His baseline form was the hulking, seven-foot-tall reptilian humanoid he walked around as every day. But if he wanted to, he could fully shift into a prehistoric titan of teeth and muscle.

 

The world had looked at a four-year-old Izuku and seen the next Pro-Hero sensation. They saw a boy who could effortlessly crush concrete, who could wade through villains like a walking tank. The teachers praised him. The other kids admired him. Katsuki Bakugo, the neighborhood prodigy with the Explosion Quirk, declared Izuku his official rival.

 

But Izuku had looked at his massive claws and felt only a deep, profound sadness.

 

When he was six, he accidentally stepped on a flowerbed at a local park. His massive, three-toed foot crushed the delicate daisies into the mud. Izuku had cried for three hours. He realized then that his body was built entirely for destruction. Evolution had designed him to kill, to crush, to rip and tear.

 

But Izuku didn't want to destroy. He wanted to watch things grow.

 

He discovered gardening shortly after. There was something infinitely beautiful to him about taking a tiny, seemingly lifeless seed, burying it in the dirt, and nurturing it into life. It required patience, gentleness, and care—things his terrifying body was supposedly incapable of. It became a challenge. A defiance of his own DNA.

 

While Bakugo was out watching All Might punch villains through buildings, Izuku was watching documentaries on the agricultural revolution. While the other kids played heroes and villains, Izuku was learning about nitrogen-fixing cover crops and the importance of earthworms.

 

Everyone told him he had the perfect Hero Quirk. Izuku thought they were blind. Heroes fought. Heroes smashed streets. Heroes broke things. Izuku just wanted to be a farmer.

 

 

 

The walk to Aldera Junior High was always a lonely affair.

 

Izuku didn't mean to be intimidating. He had perfected what he called his "Friendly Stroll"—hunched shoulders, hands tucked casually into his overall pockets, and a soft, closed-mouth smile.

 

Unfortunately, when you are a seven-foot-tall bipedal dinosaur, a closed-mouth smile just makes people wonder what you're hiding behind those massive jaws. Commuters parted like the Red Sea as he walked down the sidewalk.

 

Izuku didn't mind. It gave him an unobstructed view of the neighborhood foliage. As he walked, he carefully held a small, battered leather notebook in his claws. The cover read: Botanical Observations for the Future, Vol. 13.

 

He stopped suddenly, his heavy tail swishing behind him. A small, tenacious dandelion was pushing its way through a crack in the pavement. Izuku crouched down, ignoring the terrified gasp of a businessman who had to quickly sidestep him.

 

"Fascinating," Izuku mumbled, his deep voice vibrating in his chest. "The root system managed to bypass the concrete aggregate. The resilience of urban weeds is astounding. If I could isolate the genetic trait that allows for this level of nutrient absorption in low-soil environments, I could theoretically increase the yield of root vegetables in rocky terrain..." He scribbled furiously in his notebook, his giant claws somehow managing to hold the standard-sized pen without snapping it.

 

He arrived at school just before the bell. Squeezing into his specially modified desk at the back of the classroom was always a chore.

 

The homeroom teacher walked in, holding a thick stack of papers.

 

"Since you're all third-years, it's time for you to think seriously about your futures," the teacher said, slapping the papers against the podium. "I'll pass out handouts for your future plans now, but... you're all pretty much planning to go into the hero course, right?"

 

The classroom erupted into cheers. Students showed off their quirks, lighting up their hands, stretching their necks, and floating pencils.

 

"Yes, yes, you all have wonderful Quirks! But using your powers at school is against the rules!" the teacher scolded, though he was smiling.

 

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

 

The arrogant, grating voice cut through the noise. Izuku winced slightly, carefully closing his seed catalog and tucking it into his desk.

 

Katsuki Bakugo leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk. Ash-blonde hair spiked in every direction, and a smirk of pure superiority rested on his face. "As if I had anything in common with these weaklings. Their Quirks are chump change compared to mine."

 

The class erupted in angry protests, but Bakugo just set off small, crackling explosions in his palms, laughing.

 

"Ah, yes. Bakugo, you are aiming for U.A. High School, aren't you?" the teacher noted, looking at his clipboard.

 

The class went silent. U.A. was the national academy. The acceptance rate was abysmally low.

 

"That's exactly why it's the only place for me!" Bakugo gloated, leaping onto his desk. "I aced the mock tests! I'm the only one at this school who could possibly get in. I'll even surpass All Might and become the top hero out there! My name will be carved into the list of top earners—"

 

"Oh, Midoriya," the teacher interrupted, adjusting his glasses. "You're applying to U.A. too, aren't you?"

 

The silence that fell over the room was absolute.

 

Every single head turned slowly to look at the back of the room. Izuku was currently trying to discreetly wipe a smudge of potting soil off his cheek with a handkerchief. He froze, golden eyes blinking rapidly.

 

Suddenly, Bakugo’s desk exploded in a flash of heat and light. The blonde teenager launched himself across the room, landing squarely on Izuku's reinforced desk. Smoke curled from Bakugo's palms, his face twisted in absolute, unadulterated fury.

 

"DEKU!" Bakugo roared, his red eyes blazing. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

 

Izuku leaned back slightly, unbothered by the heat. His scales were practically fireproof. "H-hi, Kacchan. Good morning."

 

"Don't give me that 'Good morning' crap!" Bakugo screamed, grabbing the front of Izuku's overalls. It was a comical sight—the average-sized teenager trying to intimidate a creature that outweighed him by six hundred pounds. But Izuku merely looked at him with mild, polite concern.

 

"You're applying to U.A.?! The Hero Course?!" Bakugo demanded, his voice cracking with rage. "You think you can compete with me?! You've got the ultimate flashy Quirk, and you just sit there, mocking me! You think you're better than me, you giant, scaly freak?!"

 

Izuku sighed, a long, whistling sound escaping his nostrils. He gently reached up and, with two massive fingers, pried Bakugo's hands off his overalls with effortless strength.

 

"Kacchan, I'm not applying to the Hero Course," Izuku said calmly.

 

Bakugo blinked, the rage faltering for a fraction of a second. "Hah? Then what the hell are you applying for?"

 

"General Studies. Class 1-C."

 

Bakugo stared at him. The entire class stared at him.

 

"General Studies," Bakugo repeated, his voice dangerously low. "You have a Quirk that can turn you into a literal goddamn T-Rex... and you're applying for General Studies?"

 

"Well, yes," Izuku said, brightening up as he pulled his notebook back out. "You see, Kacchan, U.A. has an incredible botanical division hidden within their disaster training facilities. I've been tracking the local weather patterns, and with the impending El Niño effect this winter, I believe there's going to be a severe frost that could decimate the local daikon radish crops. I want to use U.A.'s climate-controlled domes to develop a frost-resistant strain of radish! If I can perfect the genetic splicing, I could stabilize the agricultural market in the entire prefecture!"

 

Izuku beamed, a terrifying, fanged smile of pure joy.

 

Bakugo looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. A vein throbbed visibly on his forehead. His hands sparked violently.

 

"RADISHES?!" Bakugo shrieked, his voice echoing down the hallways of the school. "You have the power to rip a villain in half with your teeth, and you want to grow fucking RADISHES?!"

 

"Language, Kacchan," Izuku chided gently. "And it's not just radishes. I'm also very interested in crop rotation involving legumes to revitalize soil nitrogen—"

 

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Bakugo roared, launching a right hook powered by an explosion directly at Izuku's face.

 

The explosion engulfed Izuku's head in a cloud of black smoke and fire. The other students shrieked and ducked under their desks.

 

As the smoke cleared, Izuku was still sitting there. He hadn't even blinked. There was a small scorch mark on his left cheek, which he wiped away with the back of his hand.

 

Izuku frowned, looking at Bakugo. "Kacchan, please. You're raising the ambient temperature of the room. My fern cuttings in my backpack are highly sensitive to sudden heat spikes. You're going to dry out their roots."

 

Bakugo stood there, chest heaving, his fist aching from punching the literal dinosaur. He looked at Izuku's sincere, worried expression regarding a fern.

 

"You..." Bakugo whispered, trembling with a mixture of absolute rage and profound disbelief. "You are completely out of your mind. You're throwing away a gift from God."

 

"I disagree," Izuku said, carefully adjusting his straw hat. "A hero saves people from dying. A farmer gives people the food they need to live. They're two sides of the same coin, Kacchan. True strength isn't just about destroying enemies. It's about nurturing life."

 

Bakugo growled, a feral sound in the back of his throat. "You're a waste of scales, Deku." He spun on his heel and stomped back to his desk, kicking a chair out of his way.

 

The teacher cleared his throat nervously. "W-well then. Let's move on to English."

 

Izuku sighed softly, reaching into his bag to gently mist his fern cuttings. No one understood. But that was okay. The earth understood. The soil didn't care if you were a hero or a monster; it only cared if you watered it.

 

 

 

When the final bell rang, Izuku didn't linger. He had an important errand to run.

 

While the other kids went to arcades or gathered to watch villain fights in the city, Izuku took the train three stops over to the agricultural district. He walked with a bounce in his heavy step, his tail swishing rhythmically.

 

His destination was a small, dusty shop wedged between two larger commercial buildings: Yagi’s Heritage Seeds & Feed.

 

A little bell tinkled as Izuku ducked low to enter the shop, the smell of damp earth, fertilizer, and dried herbs washing over him. It was intoxicating. To Izuku, this was what a candy store must smell like to normal kids.

 

"Ah, Midoriya, my boy!"

 

The shop owner, an elderly man with a Quirk that made his hair look like stalks of wheat, smiled warmly from behind the counter. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Yagi," Izuku said, carefully navigating the narrow aisles so his tail wouldn't knock over displays of trowels and watering cans. "Did they arrive?"

 

"They did indeed," the old man chuckled, reaching under the counter. He pulled out a small, unassuming paper packet. "Straight from the Americas. Solanum lycopersicum. The 'Cherokee Purple' heirloom tomato seeds. Highly resistant to early blight, and they say the flavor is unmatched."

 

Izuku’s golden eyes widened with absolute reverence. He approached the counter, his massive hands trembling slightly as he reached out. He took the small paper packet between the very tips of his razor-sharp claws, holding it as if it were made of spun glass.

 

"They're beautiful," Izuku whispered, tracing the illustration of the dark, bruised-purple tomato on the packet. "I've already prepared the germination trays. The soil pH is resting at a perfect 6.5. If I start them under the grow lights tonight, I can transplant them by late spring."

 

"You have a gift, Midoriya," the old man smiled. "Most kids your age just want to punch things. It's nice to see someone who wants to put something back into the earth."

 

Izuku paid for the seeds, carefully placing the paper packet into the breast pocket of his overalls, patting it gently. "Thank you, Mr. Yagi. Have a wonderful weekend!"

 

Izuku left the shop in high spirits. The afternoon sun was warm on his scales. He decided to take a shortcut home through a residential underpass to avoid the heavier foot traffic.

 

He pulled the Farmer's Almanac from his back pocket and began to read as he walked, his lips moving silently as he memorized the predicted rainfall charts for the coming month.

 

He was so absorbed in the charts that he didn't hear the strange, squelching sound coming from the manhole cover behind him.

 

SLURP. SQUELCH.

 

"A perfect, massive meat shield..." a wet, gurgling voice hissed from the shadows.

 

Izuku paused, turning his heavy head around.

 

Rising from the sewer grate was a massive, undulating mountain of dark green, foul-smelling sludge. Two chaotic, bloodshot eyes and a jagged mouth formed in the center of the muck. It was a villain, and he was currently on the run from someone very, very scary.

 

The Sludge Villain looked at the giant, seven-foot-tall dinosaur-boy. The villain’s eyes widened with greedy delight. "Oh, jackpot! A mutant type! And a big one! With a body like this, I could crush that blonde bastard! Come here, kid! Just let me hijack that body for a bit! It'll only hurt for a minute!"

 

The Sludge Villain lunged forward, a massive tendril of thick, toxic muck shooting toward Izuku's face.

 

Most people would scream. Most people would run.

 

Izuku stood perfectly still. He wasn't scared. His thick reptilian hide was practically invulnerable to blunt force, and he could hold his breath for over an hour.

 

What Izuku felt wasn't fear. It was disgust. The slime smelled like raw sewage, sulfur, and industrial runoff.

 

SPLAT.

 

The sludge hit Izuku square in the chest, wrapping around him in seconds. The villain laughed maniacally, trying to force his way up toward Izuku's mouth and nose.

 

"Yeah! That's it! Just hold still!" the villain cackled. "Once I take over your nervous system, this powerhouse body is mine!"

 

Izuku frowned, his massive jaws clamped shut. He reached up, planning to just rip the sludge off his face. But as he moved his arm, he looked down at his chest.

 

His eyes locked onto the breast pocket of his denim overalls.

 

The dark, toxic, acidic sludge had seeped into the pocket.

 

The delicate paper packet holding the Cherokee Purple heirloom tomato seeds was soaking in it.

 

As Izuku watched in slow motion, the acidic nature of the sludge dissolved the paper. The tiny, precious seeds spilled out, instantly turning brown and dying as they were subjected to the raw sewage and chemical runoff of the villain's body.

 

Silence descended on the underpass.

 

The Sludge Villain paused, feeling a sudden, terrifying shift in the atmosphere. The air grew impossibly heavy. The ambient temperature spiked.

 

Izuku Midoriya slowly lowered his head.

 

"Hey... why aren't you struggling?" the Sludge Villain asked nervously, his tendrils slipping against Izuku's scales. "Open your mouth, damn it!"

 

Izuku's golden eyes, normally so soft and gentle, constricted into razor-thin slits of pure, primal rage. A low, rumbling growl began deep in his chest—a sound that didn't belong in a modern city. It was the sound of an apex predator that ruled the earth sixty-five million years ago. It vibrated the concrete underpass, shaking loose dust from the ceiling.

 

"You..." Izuku rumbled, his voice dropping three octaves into a demonic, guttural register.

 

"W-what?" the villain stammered.

 

Izuku’s jaw unhinged. The muscles in his neck and face bulged, shifting rapidly. Bone cracked and expanded. In a fraction of a second, the humanoid face vanished, replaced by the colossal, terrifying, three-foot-long skull of a fully grown Tyrannosaurus Rex.

 

"YOU RUINED MY SEEDS!"

 

Izuku didn't throw a punch. He didn't use a martial arts technique.

 

He simply lunged forward, his massive jaws snapping shut with a bite force of over eight thousand pounds per square inch.

 

The Sludge Villain screamed as rows of six-inch serrated teeth sank into his gelatinous mass. Sludge or no sludge, Izuku's Quirk allowed him to bite through steel girders. The sheer concussive force of the bite created a shockwave in the underpass.

 

Izuku ripped his head back, tearing a massive chunk of the villain's main body away. He chewed once, twice, his reptilian eyes burning with agricultural fury.

 

Then, Izuku gagged.

 

"Eugh! Gross! Too alkaline!"

 

With a mighty heave, Izuku spat the villain out. The mass of sludge, thoroughly traumatized and partially pulverized by the sheer force of the bite, slammed into the brick wall of the underpass with the force of a cannonball. The villain groaned, his eyes spinning dizzily in his muck, completely incapacitated.

 

Izuku shifted his head back to his baseline humanoid form, wiping his tongue with the back of his massive hand in disgust. "Ugh. I taste like industrial bleach."

 

He looked down at his breast pocket. He gently scooped out the dissolved paper and the blackened, dead seeds.

 

Izuku fell to his knees, his massive tail slumping against the ground. Tears—large, comical, anime-style tears—welled up in his golden eyes.

 

"My Cherokee Purples," he wept softly, cradling the ruined seeds. "They were going to be so beautiful. I had the nitrogen mix perfect..."

 

"HAVE NO FEAR!"

 

A booming, thunderous voice echoed through the underpass.

 

A massive, muscular figure in a white t-shirt and cargo pants burst from the manhole cover, practically glowing with raw power and charisma. His blonde hair stood up in two distinct V-shapes.

 

"FOR I AM H—"

 

All Might froze.

 

The Symbol of Peace, the Number One Hero, blinked his impossibly blue eyes.

 

He looked at the unconscious, splattered remains of the Sludge Villain he had been chasing all afternoon. Then, he looked at the seven-foot-tall, terrifying reptilian monster kneeling on the ground in a pair of denim overalls.

 

The monster was sobbing.

 

"Oh, little guys... you never even had a chance to sprout," Izuku cried, sniffing loudly.

 

All Might stood there, completely utterly baffled. He had prepared for a hostage situation. He had prepared for a devastating battle. He had not prepared to find a dinosaur weeping over a handful of dirt.

 

All Might cleared his throat, cautiously stepping forward. "Excuse me, young man?"

 

Izuku gasped, quickly wiping his eyes and standing up to his full, imposing height. He turned around, and his jaw dropped.

 

"A-All Might?!" Izuku squeaked, his deep voice cracking. "The Symbol of Peace?! In Musutafu?!"

 

All Might puffed out his chest, flashing his signature grin. "HAHA! Yes, it is I! I was pursuing this villain, but it seems you handled him quite handily! I must say, young man, that is a spectacular Quirk you have there! The sheer power to incapacitate this rogue in a single blow... magnificent!"

 

Izuku blushed, rubbing the back of his scaled neck. "Oh, um... I just bit him. I didn't mean to use excessive force, but... he got sludge on my heirloom tomato seeds."

 

All Might paused. "Your... tomato seeds?"

 

"Yes," Izuku said, showing All Might the ruined muck in his hand. "They were very rare. Solanum lycopersicum. They're dead now."

 

All Might looked at the seeds, then up at the terrifying, heavily-muscled, razor-toothed teenager. A slow realization dawned on the Number One Hero. This boy... his appearance was ferocious, but his eyes... his eyes were incredibly gentle. There was no bloodlust in him. Only a strange, pure kindness.

 

All Might felt a twinge in his side—his old injury acting up. His time limit was running short. He needed a successor. He had been looking for a long time. He needed someone strong, yes, but more importantly, someone with a pure heart.

 

"Young man," All Might said, his voice dropping into a serious, reverent tone. "What is your name?"

 

"I-Izuku Midoriya, sir!"

 

"Midoriya, my boy. I have seen many Pro Heroes in my time. I have seen strength, and I have seen bravery. But to possess such a terrifying, powerful Quirk, and yet use it to mourn the loss of a simple plant... that speaks to a gentle soul. A soul fit for a true Hero."

 

Izuku blinked. "Um. Thank you?"

 

All Might stepped forward, placing a massive hand on Izuku's scaled shoulder. "Midoriya! I have a proposition for you! You have the raw power, but with my guidance, you could become the greatest Hero this world has ever seen! I am looking for a successor, and I believe—"

 

"Oh, no thank you."

 

All Might stopped. His jaw literally dropped. The wind seemed to howl through the underpass in awkward silence. "I... I beg your pardon?"

 

Izuku waved his hands apologetically. "I'm so honored, All Might! Really, I am! I have all your documentaries on my computer! But... I don't want to be a Pro Hero."

 

All Might stared at him. "But... your Quirk! Your power! You could save thousands of lives! You could smash through any villain's defenses!"

 

"That's exactly it, sir," Izuku said gently. He looked down at his massive claws. "My Quirk is designed to smash. It's designed to destroy. When I go full T-Rex, I weigh eight tons. I can bite through concrete. If I become a Hero, my whole life will be about fighting. About breaking things. About hurting people, even if they are bad people."

 

Izuku looked back up at All Might, his golden eyes shining with a quiet, unshakeable resolve.

 

"I don't want to break things, All Might. The world has enough people breaking things. I want to grow things. I want to take empty dirt and turn it into food that can feed families. I want to create life, not just protect it from death. True strength isn't just about punching the hardest. It's about having the patience to watch something grow."

 

All Might was stunned. He had expected excitement, tears of joy, or perhaps disbelief. He had not expected profound agricultural philosophy from a teenager who looked like he could eat a car.

 

"So... what will you do?" All Might asked, his voice softening, a genuine smile forming on his lips. This boy wasn't a coward. He was incredibly brave; brave enough to forge his own path.

 

"I'm applying to U.A. High School!" Izuku beamed. "General Studies! I'm going to petition Principal Nezu to let me use the ecological disaster domes for agricultural experiments! I'm going to be a farmer, All Might!"

 

All Might threw his head back and laughed—a booming, hearty sound that echoed into the streets above. "A farmer! A giant, dinosaur farmer! Midoriya, my boy, you are one of a kind! I wish you the best of luck with your crops. And if anyone ever tries to trample your fields... I pity them."

 

"Thank you, All Might!" Izuku bowed low. "I have to go home now. I need to test the pH of some new potting soil before dinner. Have a safe patrol!"

 

With a cheerful swish of his heavy tail, Izuku Midoriya jogged away down the underpass, leaving the Number One Hero standing alone next to a pile of unconscious sludge.

 

All Might watched him go, smiling warmly. He doesn't want my power, All Might thought. He already has a power all his own.

 

 

 

Later that evening, the Midoriya apartment was quiet.

 

Izuku sat at his reinforced desk in his bedroom. His walls weren't covered in All Might posters like a normal teenager's. Instead, they were covered in detailed botanical charts, maps of local aquifers, and a massive, framed cross-section of a soil biome.

 

A small, single desk lamp illuminated his workspace.

 

On the desk sat a neat stack of paperwork. The official U.A. High School Entrance Application.

 

Izuku carefully picked up his pen. His giant claws, deadly weapons capable of rendering steel to ribbons, moved with the gentle grace of a calligraphy master.

 

He filled out his name. His address. His middle school.

 

He reached the section labeled: Desired Course of Study.

 

There were four boxes.

[ ] Hero Course

[ ] Support Course

[ ] Business Course

[ ] General Studies

 

Izuku didn't even hesitate. He checked the box for General Studies.

 

Underneath, in the section for Reason for Application / Proposed Independent Study, Izuku began to write.

 

I am requesting access to the climate-controlled rescue domes to conduct long-term research on Quirk-mutated crop yields in extreme weather environments. My goal is to develop sustainable, high-yield agricultural practices that can eliminate food scarcity in urban environments...

 

He wrote for an hour, detailing his plans for crop rotation, soil revitalization, and pest control without the use of harmful pesticides.

 

When he was finished, he capped his pen. He carefully folded the application and slid it into a pristine white envelope.

 

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his thick arms above his head until his shoulders popped. He looked out the window. The moon was high in the sky, shining down on the sleeping city of Musutafu.

 

Somewhere out there, Katsuki Bakugo was probably punching a punching bag, dreaming of glory and explosions. Somewhere out there, heroes were patrolling the streets, looking for a fight.

 

Izuku smiled, turning to look at the small rack of cherry tomato seedlings resting under a purple grow-light in the corner of his room.

 

"Just you wait, little guys," Izuku whispered to the plants. "We're going to U.A. And we're going to grow the best tomatoes this world has ever seen."

 

The bell for first period rang through the immaculate, sprawling halls of U.A. High School. To the general public, this institution was a fortress of heroism, a crucible where the next generation of Pro Heroes was forged in the fires of rigorous combat training and high-stakes academics.

 

To Izuku Midoriya, it was an incredibly well-funded botanical research center that occasionally had loud people running through the hallways.

 

Class 1-C, the General Studies department, was a quiet, unassuming place. The students here didn't have flashy, destructive Quirks. They were the kids with minor telekinesis, slight color-changing abilities, or simply a high aptitude for mathematics. They were normal teenagers, studying normal subjects, preparing for normal lives in business, support, or administration.

 

And then, sitting in the back row in a desk custom-welded from industrial I-beams by the school’s maintenance staff, was a seven-foot-tall, eight-hundred-pound bipedal dinosaur.

 

"Good morning, Midoriya," a tired voice drawled.

 

Izuku carefully turned his massive, scaly head. His heavy tail, currently resting on a padded bench behind his desk, shifted with a soft thump. Hitoshi Shinso, a boy with messy indigo hair and deep bags under his eyes, was slumping into the desk next to him.

 

"Good morning, Shinso!" Izuku beamed. His wide, toothy smile revealed rows of serrated, bone-crushing teeth, but his golden eyes were bright and incredibly warm.

 

Shinso stared at the terrifying maw for a moment, entirely unfazed. Over the past few weeks, the students of 1-C had gone from abject, pants-wetting terror of their giant classmate to realizing he was, essentially, a massive, scaly golden retriever who happened to know an intimidating amount about soil pH.

 

Izuku reached one massive, clawed hand into his oversized canvas messenger bag. With painstaking delicacy, pinching his razor-sharp talons together, he pulled out a small, perfectly woven bamboo basket. Inside rested half a dozen impossibly red, perfectly plump strawberries.

 

"I brought the first harvest of the Fragaria ananassa I’ve been cross-breeding on my balcony," Izuku whispered excitedly, his deep, cavernous voice rumbling like distant thunder. "The sucrose levels are testing twenty percent higher than standard market varieties. Please, take one!"

 

Shinso blinked, looking at the giant, murderous claws offering him a delicate piece of fruit. He reached out and took one, popping it into his mouth. His tired eyes widened slightly. "Damn. That's really good."

 

"Right?!" Izuku gasped happily, his tail thumping rapidly against his bench. "The secret is a localized potassium-rich fertilizer blend I created using dried kelp! Oh, would anyone else like one?"

 

Within seconds, the students of 1-C were gathered around the terrifying apex predator, happily munching on world-class strawberries.

 

"You're a lifesaver, Midoriya," a girl with horns sighed happily. "I skipped breakfast today."

 

"You shouldn't skip breakfast!" Izuku scolded gently, sounding exactly like his mother. "Proper cellular respiration requires a steady intake of glucose! If you don't eat, your leaves—I mean, your brain—will wilt!"

 

While Class 1-A, the vaunted Hero Course, was next door screaming about who was the strongest, Class 1-C had found peace in the form of a giant, maternal dinosaur boy.

 

Life at U.A. had been a dream come true for Izuku. True to his word, Principal Nezu had found Izuku’s application endlessly fascinating. A student with the physical specs to rival All Might who only wanted to use his immense power to till the earth? Nezu loved an anomaly. The principal had not only granted Izuku access to the auxiliary ecological domes but had actually introduced him to several key faculty members.

 

Izuku’s favorite teacher wasn’t even his homeroom teacher; it was the Modern Literature instructor, Ken Ishiyama, known to the world as the Pro Hero Cementoss.

 

Their friendship had blossomed during the second week of school. Izuku had been struggling to find planter boxes deep enough for a new strain of deep-root carrots he was cultivating. Traditional wooden boxes rotted, and terracotta was too brittle if he accidentally bumped into it with his heavy tail.

 

Cementoss had found the boy sitting in the courtyard, looking despondently at a cracked ceramic pot. A brief conversation later, and Cementoss was using his Quirk to pull perfectly shaped, highly durable concrete planters right out of the courtyard pavement.

 

“Concrete is porous, Midoriya,” Cementoss had explained in his slow, steady voice. “It will allow the soil to breathe, but retain enough moisture for your deep-root vegetables.”

 

Izuku had practically wept with joy, hugging the blocky hero (which was an impressive feat, considering Izuku’s massive wingspan). Now, they met twice a week to discuss architectural farming integration.

 

But Izuku hadn’t just befriended the faculty. He had also made a rather unexpected friend in the Hero Course.

 

It had happened on a Saturday. Izuku had ordered fifty bags of premium, nutrient-dense organic steer manure for his latest project. The delivery truck had simply dumped the pallet at the front gates of U.A., refusing to drive it up to the auxiliary domes.

 

Izuku hadn't minded. He was incredibly strong. The problem wasn't the weight of the fifty-pound bags; it was the logistics of carrying them. Even with arms as thick as tree trunks, he could only awkwardly stack four or five bags in his arms before the slippery plastic caused them to tumble to the ground.

 

He had been standing at the gate, attempting to balance a sixth bag on his snout, when a bubbly voice called out to him.

 

“Hey! Do you need some help?”

 

Izuku had frozen, a bag of manure resting comically on his terrifying reptilian nose, to see a girl with a brown bob and permanent blush marks on her cheeks jogging toward him.

 

“I’m Ochaco Uraraka! From Class 1-A!” she had beamed, completely unbothered by his monstrous appearance. “That looks really awkward to carry. Want me to make them light?”

 

Izuku had gently lowered the bag. “Make them... light?”

 

Uraraka had tapped all fifty bags with her fingertips, her Zero Gravity Quirk rendering the literal ton of fertilizer completely weightless. Izuku had tied them all together with a rope and pulled them through the campus like a giant, smelly balloon bouquet.

 

They had bonded instantly. Uraraka came from a construction family and understood the value of hard, physical labor. When Izuku explained that his ultimate goal was to revolutionize agriculture to lower the cost of food for working-class families, Uraraka had practically stars in her eyes.

 

“That’s amazing, Deku!” she had said, using the childhood nickname he had explained earlier. “Heroes save people from villains, but you’re going to save people from going hungry! That’s just as heroic!”

 

It was the first time anyone besides his mother had ever validated his dream. From that day on, Uraraka would often sneak away from 1-A’s intense training regimes to visit Izuku’s greenhouse, where he would reward her gravity-assists with fresh, sweet snap peas and cucumbers.

 

Life was peaceful. Life was productive.

 

Until the day of the Unforeseen Simulation Joint incident.

 

 

 

The U.S.J. was a marvel of modern Quirk-assisted engineering. A massive, domed structure located on the outskirts of the U.A. campus, it housed multiple different disastrous environments: a shipwreck zone, a landslide zone, a mountain zone, a fire zone, and a ruined city.

 

However, attached to the outer ring of the main structure were several smaller, auxiliary domes, used to regulate the massive climate control systems.

 

Zone 4 was officially designated as the "Flora Environmental Control Center."

 

Izuku simply called it "The Patch."

 

While Class 1-A was boarding a bus to undergo rigorous rescue training in the main dome, Izuku had a free period for independent study. He had happily trotted down to Zone 4, clad in his signature massive denim overalls and his wide-brimmed straw hat.

 

The moment the airlock doors of Zone 4 hissed open, Izuku took a deep, rattling breath, his golden eyes sliding shut in pure bliss.

 

The air was heavy, humid, and smelled richly of loam, moss, and life. The auxiliary dome was essentially a high-tech greenhouse, heavily modified by U.A.’s support course to allow Izuku to manipulate the internal weather.

 

Currently, it was set to "Early Autumn High Humidity."

 

Izuku carefully stepped onto the main dirt path, his three-toed, clawed feet leaving massive indentations in the soft earth. He walked past rows of flourishing tomato vines, trellises dripping with heavy gourds, and a small, artificial pond where he was testing the water-purifying properties of a mutated lotus flower.

 

But his main objective today was at the very center of the dome.

 

There, resting in a pristine, perfectly tilled rectangular bed of dark, rich soil, were six of the most magnificent cabbages ever cultivated by man or beast.

 

These weren't normal cabbages. This was Izuku's mid-term project: the Brassica oleracea gigantica, a strain he had been selectively breeding for the past month. Thanks to a specialized nutrient drip and precisely timed flashes of UV light from the dome's ceiling, these cabbages were currently the size of beach balls. They were vibrant, pulsating with a healthy emerald green, and their leaves were thick, crisp, and packed with a density of vitamins that could cure scurvy in a single bite.

 

Izuku approached the cabbage patch with the reverence of a monk approaching an altar.

 

He dropped to his massive knees, ignoring the dirt smudging his denim overalls. He pulled a small, delicate pair of tweezers from his pocket and leaned in close to the largest cabbage, which he had affectionately named 'Cabbie.'

 

"Hello, my beauties," Izuku rumbled softly, his terrifying, tooth-filled jaws curving into a gentle smile. "How are you feeling today? Did the nitrogen boost yesterday give you a tummy ache, or did you absorb it well?"

 

He gently inspected the outer leaves. "Ah, perfect. No signs of aphid damage. Your cellular walls are incredibly robust. You're going to feed so many people one day. You're doing such a good job."

 

He reached out and gently patted the massive cabbage with the flat of his deadly claws. To Izuku, this was the pinnacle of existence. The quiet hum of the climate control systems, the smell of damp earth, the slow, beautiful process of photosynthesis happening right before his eyes.

 

He was completely, utterly isolated from the outside world. The thick, reinforced glass of the dome and the whirring of the ventilation fans drowned out everything beyond his little sanctuary.

 

Because of this, Izuku had absolutely no idea that less than a hundred yards away, all hell was breaking loose.

 

 

 

In the central plaza of the U.S.J., the air was thick with the smell of ozone, smoke, and blood.

 

Class 1-A's rescue training had been interrupted by a nightmare. A swirling vortex of purple mist had torn open the center of the plaza, disgorging a horde of villains led by a pale, blue-haired man covered in disembodied hands.

 

Tomura Shigaraki scratched his neck, his red eyes glaring through the fingers of the hand covering his face. "Thirteen is down. Eraserhead is putting up a good fight, but he's just a cool-down character. Where is All Might? The schedule said he would be here."

 

Beside him, the massive, brain-exposed monstrosity known as the Nomu let out a mindless screech.

 

The villains had scattered Class 1-A across the various disaster zones. Now, the students were fighting for their lives.

 

In the Mountain Zone, Katsuki Bakugo and Eijiro Kirishima were surrounded by a mob of low-level thugs.

 

"DIE! DIE! DIE!" Bakugo roared, his palms igniting with massive, concussive blasts of heat and light. He spun on his heel, grabbing a thug with a minor rock-skin Quirk by the face, and unleashed a point-blank explosion.

 

The force of the blast was immense. The thug was launched backward like a cannonball, screaming as he flew over the edge of the mountain zone, skipping across the artificial terrain, and hurtling directly toward the thick, frosted glass wall of Auxiliary Dome 4.

 

 

 

Back in the greenhouse, Izuku was happily humming a traditional folk song about the harvest. He had a small watering can pinched delicately in his claws and was giving Cabbie a refreshing sprinkle.

 

"Drink up, little guy," Izuku cooed. "Tomorrow is measurement day. I think you've grown at least two centimeters since—"

 

CRASH!

 

The reinforced glass of the dome shattered with a deafening explosion of sound.

 

Izuku jumped, dropping his watering can, his massive tail whipping out for balance.

 

A human body, smoking and screaming, flew through the air in a parabolic arc. It smashed through the trellises of climbing beans, pulverized the watering system, and plummeted straight toward the center of the dome.

 

SQUELCH.

 

The villain landed squarely on top of the cabbage patch.

 

Silence descended on the dome, broken only by the sound of falling glass tinkling against the dirt, and the groaning of the unconscious villain.

 

Izuku stood frozen. His golden eyes, wide and unblinking, were locked onto the center of the patch.

 

The villain, a large man weighing at least two hundred pounds, was lying facedown. Beneath him, green juice was slowly seeping into the dark soil.

 

Cabbie was gone. The five other gigantic, prize-winning cabbages were completely obliterated, flattened into a paste of crushed leaves and ruined stems. A month of painstaking genetic cross-breeding, precise soil management, and genuine emotional investment had been reduced to a literal salad.

 

Izuku took a single, heavy step forward.

 

His brain couldn't process it. It was like watching a beloved pet get hit by a truck. He looked at the villain, who was groggily trying to push himself up, wiping crushed cabbage leaf off his cheek.

 

"Ugh... my head..." the villain groaned, looking around. "Where... what is this place? A greenhouse?" He looked down at his hands, disgusted. "Ew, what is this green slime? Vegetables? Disgusting."

 

The villain casually wiped the remains of Cabbie onto his pants and spat on the ruined soil.

 

In the span of a single heartbeat, the gentle, nurturing soul of Izuku Midoriya was entirely eclipsed by millions of years of dormant, prehistoric, apex-predator instinct.

 

The air in the dome seemed to drop by twenty degrees. A low, vibrating sound began to emanate from Izuku’s chest—a sound that didn't travel through the ears, but through the bones. It was a guttural, demonic rumble that shook the remaining glass in the dome.

 

The villain paused, a chill running down his spine. He slowly turned around, looking up, and up, and up.

 

Standing before him was a seven-foot-tall reptilian beast. But it wasn't just standing there. Its body was shuddering.

 

"Y-you... ruined them," a voice hissed, sounding like two grindstones rubbing together.

 

"Hey, back off, freak!" the villain sneered, trying to mask his rising panic. He activated his Quirk, his skin hardening into jagged rock. "I'm with the League of Villains! I'll smash you—!"

 

"YOU SQUISHED MY CABBAGES!"

 

The transformation was instantaneous and terrifying.

 

Izuku didn't just grow; he erupted. The denim overalls ripped at the seams, the heavy fabric shredding like tissue paper as massive, emerald-green muscles bulged and expanded. His bones popped and cracked like rifle fire. His spine elongated, jutting out backward into a fifteen-foot-long, muscular tail adorned with thick, bony scutes.

 

His chest expanded into a massive barrel, and his neck thickened into a pillar of pure muscle. But the most horrifying change was his head. His snout stretched forward, his jaws unhinging and snapping back together as a three-foot-long skull formed, packed with over sixty serrated, banana-sized teeth.

 

The villain fell backward, his rock-skin trembling, his eyes wide with absolute, primal terror.

 

Standing before him was a forty-foot-long, fourteen-foot-tall, eight-ton Tyrannosaurus Rex.

 

Izuku let out a roar.

 

It wasn't an anime battle cry. It was the sound of a jet engine taking off inside a canyon. It was a concussive blast of sound that completely shattered every remaining pane of glass in the greenhouse. The sonic force alone knocked the villain unconscious instantly, blowing him backward into a concrete wall.

 

But Izuku wasn't done.

 

He was beyond reason. He was beyond the concept of heroes and villains. He was a farmer whose crops had been blighted by a pest, and the pest had friends.

 

Izuku turned his massive, scarred snout toward the jagged hole in the greenhouse wall. He could smell them. He could smell ozone, sweat, and the foul scent of destruction.

 

They were out there. The pests. The crop-ruiners.

 

With a thunderous THUMP that shook the entire U.S.J., the Tyrannosaurus Rex charged out of the greenhouse.

 

 

 

Back in the central plaza, the situation was dire.

 

Eraserhead, his goggles broken and his face bruised, was pinned to the ground. The monstrous Nomu held the Pro Hero down, its exposed brain pulsing as it prepared to snap Aizawa's arm.

 

Tomura Shigaraki laughed, his raspy voice echoing across the plaza. "Game over, Eraserhead. Your party is wiped. Now, let's see how much despair we can cause before the final boss shows up."

 

Shigaraki turned his gaze toward the nearby fountain. Hiding behind it, trembling in terror, were Tsuyu Asui, Minoru Mineta, and Ochaco Uraraka, who had been separated from the others.

 

Shigaraki’s eyes locked onto Uraraka. "You... you look like someone who screams nicely."

 

He dashed forward, his hand outstretched, all five fingers reaching for Uraraka's face. Time seemed to slow down. Uraraka squeezed her eyes shut, raising her arms in a futile block.

 

BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...

 

The ground began to vibrate. It wasn't a minor tremor. It was rhythmic, heavy, and approaching fast.

 

Shigaraki paused, his hand inches from Uraraka’s face. He frowned, looking down at his feet. The water in the plaza's central fountain was rippling. Concentric circles danced across the surface with every heavy thud.

 

"What is that?" Shigaraki muttered. "Kurogiri, did you bring an elite mob?"

 

"No, Tomura Shigaraki," the dark mist replied, sounding equally confused. "I brought no such—"

 

CRASH!

 

The reinforced steel doors leading to the auxiliary corridors didn't just open; they exploded outward, twisted like tin foil, as a massive green blur erupted into the plaza.

 

A collective gasp echoed across the U.S.J. The scattered students of Class 1-A, who were finishing up their respective fights in the zones, looked down at the plaza in sheer disbelief.

 

Standing between Shigaraki and the terrified students was a literal dinosaur.

 

It was massive, its dark green scales glistening under the artificial lights. Its tail whipped back and forth, smashing a concrete bench into powder. It lowered its massive head, its golden, slit-pupil eyes locking onto Shigaraki.

 

Uraraka, opening her eyes and looking up at the terrifying beast, didn't scream. She blinked.

 

"Deku?" she whispered.

 

Izuku didn't respond to her. He was staring at Shigaraki. He didn't see a tragic villain with a terrible past. He saw a blight. A weed. A frost that threatened the harvest.

 

"What the hell is this?" Shigaraki hissed, stepping back. "A hidden boss? The game master didn't say anything about a dinosaur!"

 

Izuku snorted, a massive plume of hot air blowing from his nostrils, ruffling Shigaraki’s hair.

 

"Nomu!" Shigaraki shrieked, pointing at the beast. "Kill it! Tear it apart!"

 

The Nomu released Aizawa, letting the battered hero slump to the ground. The bio-engineered monster, built specifically to trade blows with the Number One Hero, let out a screech and lunged at the T-Rex.

 

The Nomu’s fist, packed with shock-absorbing Quirk-power, slammed directly into Izuku’s massive lower jaw.

 

The impact sounded like a bomb going off. Dust kicked up, obscuring the two titans.

 

Shigaraki laughed maniacally. "Fools! The Nomu has Shock Absorption! Physical attacks are useless against it! Your hidden boss is going to get dismantled!"

 

As the dust cleared, the plaza fell dead silent.

 

Izuku hadn't even flinched. The Nomu’s fist was pressed against his scaly jaw, but Izuku’s head hadn't moved an inch.

 

Aizawa, bleeding on the ground, stared in disbelief. What is that thing? Its bone density... its sheer mass... it didn't even register the blow!

 

Izuku slowly turned his golden eyes down to look at the Nomu.

 

If this had been a Pro Hero, they would have analyzed the situation. They would have realized the Nomu was immune to blunt force trauma. They would have tried to find a weakness.

 

But Izuku wasn't a hero in this moment. He was a T-Rex. And the Nomu was a very ugly, very annoying feral hog that was currently in his garden.

 

You don't punch a feral hog.

 

You bite it.

 

Before the Nomu could pull its arm back, Izuku's massive jaws snapped forward with the speed of a striking cobra. The sheer bite force of a T-Rex is estimated at around 8,000 to 12,000 pounds per square inch. Izuku’s Quirk enhanced that to an absurd degree.

 

His teeth sank into the Nomu’s arm. Shock Absorption was designed to disperse blunt kinetic energy—like a punch from All Might. It was not designed to disperse the shearing, piercing force of sixty serrated teeth acting like industrial bolt cutters.

 

The Nomu shrieked in genuine agony as Izuku’s jaws clamped shut.

 

With a vicious, animalistic toss of his massive head, Izuku ripped the Nomu off its feet. He swung the massive bio-engineered monster through the air like a dog playing with a chew toy, and slammed it brutally into the concrete floor.

 

CRACK!

 

The crater was twenty feet wide.

 

"What?!" Shigaraki screamed, scratching his neck furiously. "Cheat code! That's a cheat code! Nomu, get up! Regeneration!"

 

The Nomu’s arm rapidly healed, and the monster scrambled up, leaping onto Izuku’s back, wrapping its arms around the T-Rex’s thick neck, trying to choke it.

 

Izuku let out a low, rumbling growl of extreme annoyance. It was like dealing with a particularly stubborn aphid infestation.

 

He didn't panic. He simply planted his massive, three-toed feet into the concrete, gouging deep trenches into the floor, and spun.

 

He spun with unbelievable speed for a creature of his size. As he spun, he dropped his center of gravity and whipped his massive, muscular tail around.

 

The tail, weighing over two tons and moving at eighty miles an hour, slammed into the Nomu’s side. The monster was instantly dislodged, sent flying across the plaza like a skipped stone, crashing through a row of decorative trees.

 

"No! No! No!" Shigaraki raged. "Kurogiri! Warp it! Warp the beast away!"

 

"I am trying, Tomura!" Kurogiri shouted, attempting to open a portal under Izuku's feet.

 

But Izuku was moving. The Nomu was charging back, its brain pulsing with mindless fury.

 

The two titans met in the center of the plaza. It wasn't a martial arts battle; it was a prehistoric clash of titans. The Nomu threw a flurry of devastating punches, but they simply bounced off Izuku's thick, interlocking reptilian scales. In return, Izuku used his heavy skull as a battering ram, headbutting the Nomu into the ground, pinning it beneath one of his massive, clawed feet.

 

The Nomu thrashed, its superhuman strength struggling against the sheer, immovable weight of the dinosaur.

 

Izuku looked down at the shrieking monstrosity. He remembered the squished leaves of Cabbie. He remembered the ruined soil.

 

He unhinged his jaws one final time.

 

Izuku lunged down, clamping his massive jaws entirely around the Nomu’s torso. The monster screamed, its Regeneration Quirk constantly trying to heal the deep, piercing wounds of Izuku’s teeth.

 

Izuku lifted his head high into the air, hoisting the screaming, thrashing Nomu off the ground. He dug his feet into the earth, the muscles in his thick neck bulging, veins popping against his green scales.

 

He wasn't going to fight this thing anymore. He was going to remove the weed from his garden.

 

With a roar that shattered the remaining glass in the entire U.S.J. dome, Izuku violently snapped his neck upward, opening his jaws at the apex of the swing.

 

The physical strength required was astronomical. The Nomu, weighing roughly four hundred pounds, was launched out of Izuku’s mouth like a cannonball.

 

It flew straight up. Faster and faster. It smashed through the reinforced steel framework of the U.S.J. roof, shattering the glass ceiling, and continued upward into the sky until it was nothing but a tiny, twinkling star fading into the clouds.

 

Silence slammed back down onto the U.S.J.

 

The dust slowly settled.

 

Tomura Shigaraki stood perfectly still, his hands trembling. He looked at the massive hole in the roof. He looked down at the giant, panting T-Rex standing in the middle of the plaza.

 

"Game..." Shigaraki whispered, his voice cracking. "...over. The boss was too high-level. Kurogiri. Get us out of here."

 

"At once," Kurogiri replied urgently, wrapping the mist around Shigaraki. Before the heroes or students could react, the remaining villains were sucked into the portal, vanishing from the U.S.J. entirely.

 

The battle was over. The villains had fled.

 

Up on the mountain ridge, Bakugo stood frozen, his red eyes wide as he stared down at the plaza. "Deku...?" he whispered, his brain struggling to comprehend that the absolute god-tier monster below was the same nerd who liked radishes.

 

Down in the plaza, Aizawa slowly pushed himself up on one elbow. He looked at the T-Rex.

 

"Midoriya?" Aizawa groaned. "Is... is that you?"

 

The massive beast stood frozen. Its heavy chest heaved. Slowly, the primal fury faded from its golden eyes.

 

A loud, wet sniffing sound echoed across the plaza.

 

Suddenly, the massive beast began to shrink. The scales retracted, the tail shortened, the terrible jaws reshaped into a human face. In a matter of seconds, the terrifying titan was gone.

 

In its place sat Izuku Midoriya.

 

His overalls were shredded into rags. He was covered in dirt. But what caught everyone's attention was what he was holding in his hands.

 

It was a single, terribly squished, incredibly massive cabbage leaf.

 

Izuku fell to his knees in the middle of the ruined, cratered plaza. He held the squished cabbage leaf to his chest.

 

And he began to cry.

 

Not a manly, heroic tear. It was a full-blown, wailing, anime-style sob, with comical waterfalls of tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

"CABBIEEEEEE!" Izuku wailed, his deep voice cracking with genuine heartbreak. "You were so young! You were so full of vitamins! Why did this have to happen?! I had the nitrogen levels perfect! PEEEEEERFECT!"

 

The entirety of Class 1-A, the battered Pro Hero Eraserhead, and the terrified students hiding behind the fountain could only stare in absolute, stunned silence.

 

This boy had just single-handedly defeated an unstoppable bio-weapon designed to kill All Might. He had hurled a monster into the stratosphere with his teeth.

 

And now, he was loudly mourning a vegetable.

 

Uraraka cautiously stepped out from behind the fountain. She walked over to the sobbing giant and gently placed a hand on his massive, quivering shoulder.

 

"Deku?" she asked softly. "Are... are you okay?"

 

"No, Uraraka-san!" Izuku sobbed, burying his face in his hands. "The structural integrity of the cell walls is completely compromised! I can't salvage the seeds! They're gone! The Emerald Colossus strain is extinct!"

 

From the top of the mountain zone, a scream of pure, unadulterated frustration echoed through the U.S.J.

 

"YOU STUPID FUCKING NERD!" Bakugo roared, completely losing his mind. "YOU JUST YEETED A MONSTER INTO SPACE AND YOU'RE CRYING ABOUT CABBAGES?! BE A GODDAMN HERO!"

 

Izuku looked up, sniffling loudly, wiping his nose with the back of his massive hand. He looked at Bakugo, his golden eyes wide and deeply confused.

 

"But Kacchan," Izuku called back, his voice thick with tears. "I am a hero. I'm the hero those cabbages needed... I was just too late."

 

He hugged the squished leaf tighter, burying his face in it. "I'm so sorry, Cabbie. I failed you."

 

Aizawa let his head fall back against the concrete with a dull thud.

 

"I don't get paid enough for this," the Erasure Hero muttered, passing out.

 

The U.S.J. incident would go down in history. The media would report on the terrifying League of Villains and their assault on U.A. High School. They would talk about the bravery of Class 1-A.

 

But among the students, the legend of that day would be entirely different. They would whisper of the gentle giant from Class 1-C, the boy with the power of a god, who proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you do not, under any circumstances, mess with his harvest.

 

The principal’s office at U.A. High School was a room designed to intimidate through sheer elegance. Polished mahogany, wall-to-wall bookcases filled with legal texts and Quirk theory tomes, and a massive panoramic window overlooking the sprawling campus.

 

Sitting behind the oversized desk was Principal Nezu, a chimera of a mouse, dog, and bear, sipping a cup of Earl Grey tea.

 

Standing in front of the desk, looking incredibly out of place, was Izuku Midoriya. He was currently in his baseline form—seven feet of dense, emerald-green reptilian muscle—wearing a freshly patched pair of oversized denim overalls. He was holding his straw hat respectfully in his massive, razor-clawed hands, his heavy tail swishing nervously and occasionally knocking against the leather sofa where Shota Aizawa lay in a yellow sleeping bag.

 

"Midoriya, my boy," Nezu began, his beady black eyes twinkling with an intelligence that often unnerved Pro Heroes. "I requested this meeting to formally thank you for your actions at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint last week. Your... intervention saved the lives of several students and Faculty Member Aizawa."

 

From the floor, the yellow caterpillar grunted. "The kid threw a bio-engineered nightmare into the stratosphere with his teeth. I owe him my life. Even if I still have a migraine from the noise."

 

Izuku blushed, a strange sight on a reptilian face, his golden eyes dropping to the floor. "I-I didn't mean to cause such a scene, Principal Nezu, Mr. Aizawa. But they squished Cabbie. The structural integrity of the crop was completely compromised. I lost a whole month of cross-breeding data." Izuku sniffled slightly at the memory.

 

Nezu folded his paws together. "Yes, the tragic loss of the Brassica oleracea gigantica. You have my deepest condolences, Midoriya. The school will, of course, reimburse your department for the lost fertilizer and seed costs."

 

Izuku perked up, his slit pupils expanding. "Really?! Could I get the specialized kelp meal from Hokkaido?"

 

"You may have whatever kelp meal your heart desires," Nezu chuckled. "However, that brings me to the second, more pressing reason for this meeting. Midoriya, your physical specs are off the charts. You incapacitated a villain designed to kill All Might. You possess strength, durability, and a surprising amount of battlefield control. As such, the faculty has unanimously voted to offer you a transfer. We would like to move you from Class 1-C, General Studies, to Class 1-A, the Hero Course."

 

The room fell silent. Aizawa unzipped his sleeping bag slightly, watching the boy's reaction. Most teenagers would be weeping tears of joy. A transfer to 1-A was the golden ticket to fame, fortune, and a legacy.

 

Izuku blinked his golden eyes. He looked at Nezu. He looked at Aizawa.

 

"Oh. Wow. That is... that is incredibly kind of you, Principal Nezu," Izuku said, bowing his massive head. "I am deeply honored. Truly. But I must respectfully decline."

 

Nezu’s teacup paused halfway to his snout. Aizawa sat up.

 

"Decline?" Nezu asked, his tone perfectly polite, though laced with genuine curiosity. "May I ask why?"

 

"Well, sir," Izuku explained, shifting his weight, his three-toed feet clicking against the hardwood floor. "Class 1-A has a very rigorous schedule. They have combat training, rescue simulations, and hero law ethics classes. If I transfer to the Hero Course, I won't have time to tend to the Auxiliary Dome. My winter squashes are entering a crucial germination phase. If I miss the 2:00 PM humidity adjustment, the vines will rot at the roots."

 

Aizawa stared at him. "Midoriya. You're turning down a fast track to becoming a top-tier Pro Hero... for squash?"

 

"Not just squash, Mr. Aizawa! I'm also propagating a new strain of drought-resistant soybeans!" Izuku replied earnestly, completely oblivious to the absurdity of the conversation. "Heroes protect society, yes, but society needs to eat. I truly believe my Quirk is better suited for deep-soil tilling than fighting villains. Fighting just... breaks things."

 

Nezu set his teacup down and laughed, a high, chiming sound. "Remarkable! Truly remarkable! A powerhouse of unparalleled destruction who only wishes to nurture life. Midoriya, I respect your decision. You may remain in Class 1-C. However, I have a request. The U.A. Sports Festival is next week. It is a mandatory event for all students. I want you to participate to the absolute fullest of your abilities."

 

Izuku frowned, his cranial ridges knitting together. "But Principal Nezu, the Sports Festival is mostly combat and obstacle courses. If I go all out, people might get hurt. And frankly, it takes a lot of calories to transform fully. I'd rather spend the day cataloging the soil pH of the campus flowerbeds."

 

Nezu’s smile widened into something slightly wicked. "I anticipated this reluctance, Midoriya. Which is why I took the liberty of looking into your internet search history on the school's Wi-Fi network."

 

Izuku gasped, his hands flying to his scaly cheeks. "You know about the forums?! I swear, I only argued with user Agri-Lord42 because his take on nitrogen-fixing cover crops was completely unscientific!"

 

"Not the forums, my boy," Nezu chuckled, pulling a glossy, incredibly thick magazine from his desk drawer and sliding it across the mahogany. "This."

 

Izuku leaned over. His golden eyes locked onto the cover.

 

It was the latest, premium edition of the John Deere International Agricultural Machinery Catalog.

 

On the cover, glistening under a stylized sunset, was the John Deere 8R 410 Tractor. It was a beast of machinery. It had a 410-horsepower engine, eAutoPowr transmission, dual-wheel configurations, and a fully enclosed, climate-controlled, air-suspension cab. It was the Rolls Royce of farming equipment.

 

Izuku’s jaw slowly dropped. A tiny line of drool escaped the corner of his serrated teeth. "The... the 8R Series," he whispered reverently. "With the integrated StarFire 7000 receiver for precision plowing..."

 

"Exactly," Nezu said, his voice smooth and persuasive. "Retail price: approximately forty-five million yen. Now, Midoriya, do you know what the cash prize is for the first-place winner of the U.A. Sports Festival, funded by our generous corporate sponsors?"

 

Izuku’s head snapped up.

 

"Fifty million yen," Nezu smiled. "More than enough for the tractor, the shipping fees from America, and a bespoke attachment of your choosing."

 

Izuku looked at the catalog. He looked at Nezu. He looked back at the catalog.

 

The image of himself, wearing his straw hat, sitting in the air-conditioned cab of the 8R 410, effortlessly plowing a fifty-acre field in mere hours, flashed through his mind.

 

Izuku Midoriya stood up straight, his massive chest puffing out. He slammed his clawed fist over his heart, his eyes burning with an intense, fiery passion that would have made All Might proud.

 

"Principal Nezu," Izuku declared, his cavernous voice echoing with unbreakable resolve. "I am going to destroy the competition."

 

 

 

The day of the U.A. Sports Festival arrived with clear blue skies and a deafening roar of anticipation. The massive stadium, built entirely for this singular event, was packed to the brim with Pro Heroes, talent scouts, and civilians. Vendors hawked snacks, merchandise, and foam fingers.

 

In the Class 1-C waiting room, the atmosphere was a mix of nervous energy and deep-seated resignation.

 

"Man, I don't know why we even have to do this," complained a boy with minor telekinesis, tossing a ping-pong ball back and forth with his mind. "Class 1-A is going to sweep the floor with us. They survived a villain attack. They've got actual combat experience."

 

Hitoshi Shinso leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his purple eyes narrowed. "Don't count yourselves out before it begins. The Hero Course isn't invincible. They're just arrogant."

 

"I don't know, Shinso," said a girl with elongated fingers. "Have you seen that Bakugo guy? He looks like he eats gravel for breakfast."

 

"Excuse me," a deep, rumbling voice echoed from the corner.

 

The entire class turned. Izuku was sitting cross-legged on the floor (since he couldn't fit in the stadium-provided chairs). He was wearing the standard U.A. P.E. uniform, though the Support Company had to stretch the fabric to its absolute molecular limit to fit over his massive, eight-hundred-pound frame. The blue tracksuit pants ended just above his ankles, and a slit had been carefully cut in the back to allow his thick, scaly tail to rest comfortably.

 

Izuku was currently holding a magnifying glass in one hand and the John Deere catalog in the other, scrutinizing the specifications of a rotary tiller attachment.

 

"Yes, Midoriya?" Shinso asked.

 

"Does anyone know if the stadium groundskeepers use a standard Kentucky Bluegrass blend, or if they opted for a Bermuda grass hybrid?" Izuku asked, looking up. "I only ask because Bermuda grass has a much deeper root system, and I don't want to accidentally cause permanent ecological damage during the obstacle race."

 

The class stared at him.

 

"Midoriya," Shinso sighed, rubbing his temples. "We are about to go out there and fight for our futures. Please tell me you're taking this seriously."

 

Izuku’s golden eyes hardened. He closed the catalog with a heavy thud.

 

"Shinso. I have never been more serious about anything in my entire life," Izuku said, his voice dropping into that terrifying, baritone register. "There is a 410-horsepower engine on the line. I will not be denied my harvest."

 

Present Mic’s voice suddenly boomed through the stadium speakers, rattling the walls of the waiting room.

 

“HEY, HEY, HEY, LISTENERS! IT’S THE EVENT YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! THE U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL! LET’S BRING OUT OUR FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS!”

 

The students filed out of the tunnels and into the blinding sunlight of the massive arena. The roar of the crowd was physical, a wall of sound that vibrated against Izuku’s scales. He adjusted his stance, his heavy tail swishing behind him, ignoring the gasps and murmurs from the crowd as they laid eyes on the giant reptilian anomaly standing among the normal teenagers.

 

The R-Rated Hero, Midnight, stepped up to the podium, cracking her whip. "Quiet down! Before we begin, we have the student pledge! Representing the first-years is Katsuki Bakugo from Class 1-A!"

 

Bakugo strolled up to the microphone, his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture practically oozing contempt for everyone around him. The stadium fell silent, waiting for an inspiring speech from the top student of the entrance exam.

 

Bakugo leaned into the mic.

 

"I pledge... that I'll be number one."

 

The entire stadium erupted into boos and jeers. Class 1-A groaned in collective embarrassment.

 

Bakugo ignored the crowd, turning his head sharply. His crimson eyes locked onto the towering, green mass of Izuku Midoriya standing in the 1-C block.

 

"And I pledge," Bakugo growled, pointing a finger directly at Izuku, "that I'm going to turn a certain overgrown lizard into a new pair of boots. You hear me, Deku? Stop pretending to care about weeds and fight me for real!"

 

The camera zoomed in on Izuku’s face, projecting his terrifying, toothy visage onto the massive Jumbotrons around the stadium.

 

Izuku blinked his golden eyes. He raised a massive, clawed hand to his chin, seemingly deep in thought. The crowd went dead silent, expecting a brutal retort from the terrifying monster.

 

"Actually, Kacchan," Izuku said, his booming voice easily carrying across the field without a microphone, "reptilian scales are fundamentally different from mammalian leather. If you attempt to tan my scales using traditional methods, the keratin structure will undergo rapid desiccation and shatter. They make terrible boots. But they would make excellent, slow-release calcium fertilizer if ground into a fine powder!"

 

Silence. Absolute, confounding silence.

 

Bakugo’s eye twitched. "I HATE YOU SO MUCH!"

 

Midnight quickly cracked her whip again. "Right! Let's get things moving! The first event is the Obstacle Race! All eleven classes will participate. The course is a four-kilometer ring around the stadium. The only rule is: as long as you stay on the course, anything goes! On your marks!"

 

The thousands of first-year students crowded into the starting gate. It was a massive bottleneck.

 

Izuku stood at the very back of the pack. He took a deep breath. He thought of the John Deere 8R. He thought of the air-conditioned cab.

 

“BEGIN!” Present Mic screamed.

 

The students surged forward. Instantly, Shoto Todoroki from Class 1-A unleashed a massive wave of ice, freezing the ground and trapping hundreds of students in the tunnel to secure an early lead.

 

Bakugo, Kirishima, Aoyama, and several others managed to avoid the ice, blasting their way forward.

 

Izuku looked down at the ice covering his three-toed feet.

 

"Hmm. Frost," Izuku murmured. "Bad for seedlings. Good thing I'm fully grown."

 

He didn't activate his Quirk. He didn't need to. Izuku simply stepped forward. With a sound like a pane of glass shattering under a sledgehammer, the ice around his feet pulverized into dust. He began to jog. Even at a casual jog, his massive stride easily ate up the distance, catching up to the frontrunners just as they reached the first obstacle.

 

“AND WHAT’S THIS? THE FIRST OBSTACLE IS A BLAST FROM THE PAST! ROBO INFERNO!” Present Mic announced.

 

Dozens of massive, multi-story Zero-Pointer robots from the entrance exam blocked the path. The regular students ground to a halt, terrified of the towering mechanical behemoths.

 

Todoroki didn't hesitate, freezing a robot off-balance and running under it.

 

Bakugo flew over the robots using his explosions.

 

Izuku jogged up to the front of the pack. He looked at the massive metal robots. He looked down at the hard, compacted dirt of the obstacle course.

 

The soil here is terrible, Izuku thought, his inner farmer deeply offended. It’s far too compacted. Water will just pool on the surface. It needs aeration. It needs to be tilled.

 

Izuku stopped running. He cracked his knuckles.

 

A Zero-Pointer locked onto him, raising a fist the size of a minivan. “TARGET ACQUIRED.”

 

Izuku let out a long, rumbling breath. He dropped his stance, his muscles bunching beneath his uniform.

 

He didn't transform into the full T-Rex. He didn't want to cause property damage. Instead, he channeled the sheer, prehistoric power of his Quirk into his baseline form. His scales darkened to a rich emerald. His tail thickened, acting as a massive counterbalance.

 

The robot’s fist came crashing down.

 

Izuku caught it.

 

The shockwave blew the surrounding students off their feet. Dust exploded outward. When the air cleared, Izuku was standing exactly where he had been, holding the colossal metal fist in his bare hands. He hadn't even bent his knees.

 

"Excuse me," Izuku rumbled politely. "I need to borrow you."

 

With a roar of effort, Izuku twisted his waist, hoisted the arm of the Zero-Pointer, and flipped the entire multi-ton robot onto its back. The ground shook violently as the machine crashed down.

 

Izuku walked over to the robot's head. He grabbed the two massive, antenna-like protrusions sticking out of the machine's skull. He gripped them like the handles of a plow.

 

He lowered his head, dug his claws into the dirt, and began to run.

 

The screech of tearing metal and gouged earth was deafening. Izuku dragged the massive Zero-Pointer behind him by its antennae. The robot's heavy, jagged metallic shoulders dug deep into the hard-packed earth, acting as a colossal, multi-ton plowshare.

 

Izuku treated the obstacle race like a spring field. He just kept running, dragging the dead robot behind him. As he ran, the robot churned the earth, leaving a perfectly straight, ten-foot-wide, three-foot-deep trench of beautifully aerated, turned soil in his wake.

 

“WHAT AM I LOOKING AT, ERASERHEAD?!” Present Mic shrieked over the loudspeakers. “MIDORIYA FROM CLASS 1-C ISN’T FIGHTING THE ROBOT! HE’S… HE’S TAKING IT FOR A WALK?!”

 

“He’s plowing,” Aizawa’s deadpan voice replied. “He is literally plowing the obstacle course. I told you, he’s a farmer.”

 

The students behind him stared in dumbfounded shock, then realized Izuku had just created a perfectly clear, wide-open path through the remaining robots, as his "plow" simply knocked the other machines aside like bowling pins.

 

Izuku reached the second obstacle: The Fall. A vast canyon filled with tightropes.

 

Izuku looked at the canyon. He looked at the robot he was dragging.

 

With a heave, Izuku hurled the massive Zero-Pointer across the canyon. The robot crashed into the other side, its long, metallic body forming a perfect, stable bridge across the gap. Izuku casually walked across his newly made bridge, whistling a happy tune, stopping momentarily to observe a patch of lichen growing on a nearby rock.

 

“HE JUST BUILT A BRIDGE! THIS KID IS REDEFINING THE OBSTACLE COURSE!”

 

Finally, Izuku approached the final obstacle: The Minefield.

 

Todoroki and Bakugo were currently battling it out at the front, carefully maneuvering around the pink, explosive landmines buried in the dirt.

 

Izuku didn't slow down. He stepped onto the minefield.

 

BOOM!

 

A mine detonated directly under his right foot. The explosion was massive, kicking up a cloud of pink dust.

 

Todoroki and Bakugo stopped fighting and looked back.

 

Izuku walked out of the smoke. His tracksuit pants were slightly singed at the hem, but his thick, reptilian scales didn't even have a scratch. He didn't even seem to notice the explosion.

 

He just kept jogging.

 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

 

With every massive, eight-hundred-pound step, Izuku triggered a landmine. He walked through the minefield like a man walking through a puddle, utterly unbothered by the continuous, fiery detonations going off against his legs.

 

"Hmm," Izuku mused aloud, feeling the heat against his calves. "The sulfur in these explosives might actually lower the soil pH. I should take a sample later for the U.A. flowerbeds."

 

"STOP IGNORING ME, DEKU!" Bakugo screamed, abandoning his race against Todoroki to launch himself at Izuku. Bakugo unleashed a massive explosion directly into Izuku’s back.

 

Izuku stumbled forward slightly, mostly from the kinetic force rather than the heat. He looked over his shoulder. "Kacchan, be careful! If you trigger too many mines at once, the shockwave might disrupt the migratory patterns of the local earthworms!"

 

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT WORMS!" Bakugo shrieked, firing again.

 

But it was too late. Izuku’s massive strides easily carried him out of the minefield. He jogged through the entrance tunnel and burst back into the stadium.

 

“AND THE FIRST ONE BACK IN THE STADIUM IS… IZUKU MIDORIYA FROM CLASS 1-C! HE BARELY BROKE A SWEAT! IN FACT, HE LOOKS LIKE HE’S DISAPPOINTED IN THE SOIL QUALITY!”

 

The crowd erupted into cheers. It wasn't the flashy finish of a Hero Course student, but the sheer, unstoppable dominance of the display had won them over.

 

Izuku crossed the finish line, immediately pulled out a small notepad, and began writing down a reminder to talk to Cementoss about ordering a new aerator for the campus grounds.

 

 

 

The intermission before the second event allowed the students to catch their breath. Izuku was standing near a water fountain, gently misting a small, potted fern he had kept in his locker.

 

"Midoriya!"

 

Izuku turned to see Uraraka running toward him, her face flushed from exertion. "That was amazing! You just walked right through the minefield! You're so strong!"

 

Izuku smiled warmly, his terrifying teeth gleaming in the sun. "Thank you, Uraraka-san! The mines were actually quite warm. It reminded me of the thermal heating pads I use for my seedling trays in the winter. How did you do?"

 

"I passed! I'm in the top forty-two!" she cheered, pumping her fist.

 

Before they could continue, Midnight announced the second event: The Cavalry Battle.

 

The rules were explained. Students had to form teams of two to four, acting as a "horse" and a "rider." Each student had a point value based on their placement in the obstacle race. As first place, Izuku was worth ten million points.

 

"A ten-million-point headband," Izuku muttered, tapping his chin. "It’s like being the prize-winning pumpkin at the county fair. Everyone wants a piece of you."

 

Midnight cracked her whip. "You have fifteen minutes to form your teams! Begin!"

 

Instantly, the stadium broke into chaotic negotiations. Class 1-A students quickly grouped up, utilizing their knowledge of each other's Quirks.

 

Izuku stood alone. People were terrified of him. Not only was he a giant dinosaur, but he had the massive ten-million-point target on his back. Whoever teamed up with him would instantly become enemy number one for the entire field.

 

Izuku didn't mind. He liked solitary work. Farming was often a lonely profession.

 

"Hey. Midoriya."

 

Izuku turned. Hitoshi Shinso stood there, looking characteristically exhausted. Beside him were two other Class 1-C students: Mei Hatsume from the Support Course (who had apparently wandered over looking for a strong chassis for her inventions) and a quiet boy named Ojiro, whom Shinso had apparently already brainwashed to secure the numbers.

 

"Shinso!" Izuku smiled. "Are you looking for a team?"

 

"I need to win this," Shinso said, his voice flat, but his eyes burning with intense desperation. "I want to transfer into the Hero Course. I have a Quirk suited for villainy. Mind control. People look at me and see a bad guy. I need to prove them wrong. You have the ten million points. Team up with me."

 

Shinso prepared himself for the rejection. He prepared for Midoriya to turn him away, or worse, for Midoriya to fall under his mind control and be forced to comply.

 

Instead, Izuku’s eyes softened. He understood what it was like to have a Quirk that people misunderstood. Everyone looked at Izuku and saw a monster of destruction, not a creator of life.

 

"Shinso," Izuku said gently. "A tool is only as good as the hand that wields it. A scythe can harvest wheat, or it can be a weapon. It's all about how you use it. I would be honored to be your horse."

 

Shinso blinked, genuinely stunned. "Just like that? You're not worried I'll brainwash you?"

 

Izuku laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "Shinso, my brain is currently ninety percent occupied with thoughts of topsoil. If you want to take the wheel, be my guest. But I don't think you need to. Now, climb aboard!"

 

Izuku dropped to his hands and knees. It was a testament to his sheer size that he was larger than most small cars.

 

Shinso climbed onto Izuku’s broad, scaly back, taking the position of the rider. Hatsume strapped onto Izuku’s right side, giggling maniacally about testing her new "hover-soles" on a heavy payload, and the brainwashed Ojiro took the left side.

 

Shinso tied the ten-million-point headband around his forehead. "Alright, Midoriya. The entire arena is going to come for us. We need a strategy. We need to evade."

 

"Evade?" Izuku asked, his voice muffled slightly as he looked at the dirt. "Shinso, horses evade. I am not a horse."

 

"Then what are you?"

 

Izuku shifted. The muscles in his back bulged. He didn't fully transform into the T-Rex, but he let the prehistoric power bleed into his form, his scales hardening, his claws digging deep into the stadium turf.

 

"I am a tractor," Izuku rumbled. "Hold on tight."

 

“START!” Midnight shouted.

 

Immediately, every single team in the arena charged directly at Team Midoriya. Tetsutetsu's team charged from the left, Todoroki's team from the front, and Bakugo launched himself through the air directly at Shinso.

 

"Midoriya, move!" Shinso yelled, panicking as the horde converged on them.

 

Izuku didn't run. He stood his ground.

 

Todoroki acted first, unleashing a massive glacier of ice designed to freeze Izuku's massive legs to the turf. The ice slammed into Izuku’s scales, rapidly encasing his lower half in thick, sub-zero frost.

 

"We got them," Todoroki said coldly. "Kaminari, now!"

 

Denki Kaminari unleashed a massive surge of electricity. "One point three million volts!"

 

The electricity arced across the ice, striking Izuku directly in the chest.

 

Shinso braced for the agonizing shock, but nothing happened. Hatsume’s insulated boots protected her, and Ojiro was safely above the blast zone. But Izuku took the full brunt of the lightning.

 

Izuku let out a low, content hum. "Oh, that tingles. It feels like the static shock from a dry winter greenhouse. Very refreshing."

 

Reptilian scales, especially thick, mutated ones, were remarkably poor conductors of electricity.

 

"What?!" Kaminari gasped, his brain short-circuiting as he entered his "yay" mode.

 

Izuku looked down at the ice encasing his legs. With a casual, effortless flex of his massive thighs, the ice shattered into a million pieces, sparkling in the sunlight.

 

"My turn," Izuku said gently.

 

Izuku began to walk forward. He didn't sprint. He didn't dodge. He simply walked with the unstoppable, unrelenting momentum of a glacier.

 

Team Tetsutetsu tried to block his path. Tetsutetsu hardened his skin to steel and braced himself. Izuku walked right through him, his massive bulk knocking the steel-skinned boy aside like a child kicking a tin can.

 

"Hey! He's too heavy! We can't stop him!" Tetsutetsu yelled, spinning wildly.

 

Bakugo, flying through the air, aimed a massive explosion right at Shinso's face.

 

Izuku casually whipped his massive, heavy tail up, catching Bakugo mid-air like a baseball bat hitting a fly. Bakugo grunted as the thick slab of muscle swatted him out of the sky, sending him tumbling back to his team.

 

"He's a walking fortress," Shinso muttered in awe, looking down at the green scales beneath him. "He's not even fighting back. He's just... ignoring them."

 

For fifteen minutes, the cavalry battle consisted of Team Midoriya doing laps around the stadium at a brisk, unstoppable walking pace. Ice shattered against him. Fire washed over him like a warm breeze. Explosions merely annoyed him.

 

Izuku was entirely focused on his own thoughts.

 

If I win the prize money, I should get the rotary tiller attachment, but maybe I should also invest in a precision seeder? Yes, that would drastically reduce the labor hours for the winter wheat planting...

 

“TIME’S UP!” Midnight’s voice cracked over the speakers.

 

The dust settled. Shinso still had the ten-million-point headband securely on his forehead.

 

Team Midoriya was in first place.

 

Shinso slid off Izuku’s back, his legs shaking with adrenaline. He looked up at the giant, terrifying dinosaur boy who was currently pulling out a small notebook to jot down notes about a seeder attachment.

 

"You..." Shinso breathed. "You really just... carried us."

 

"You were excellent cargo, Shinso," Izuku beamed, giving him a massive thumbs-up with claws that could decapitate a bear. "I hope this helps you get into the Hero Course!"

 

Shinso smiled, a genuine, rare smile. "Thanks, Midoriya. You're... you're a weird guy, but you're a good hero."

 

"Oh, I'm not a hero," Izuku corrected quickly. "I'm a farmer."

 

 

 

The final event was a one-on-one tournament bracket.

 

The lunch break passed peacefully. While the other students ate standard cafeteria food, Izuku sat in the courtyard, consuming a massive, trough-sized bowl of raw leafy greens, cherry tomatoes, and hard-boiled eggs, meticulously chewing each bite to maximize nutrient absorption.

 

When the bracket was drawn, the crowd buzzed with excitement.

 

Izuku’s first match was against a boy from Class 1-B named Shihai Kuroiro, who could merge into shadows. Kuroiro attempted to hide in the shadow of Izuku’s massive tail and strike from behind. Izuku simply turned around, picked Kuroiro up by the scruff of his neck with two delicate claws, and politely set him outside the bounds of the ring.

 

Match time: four seconds.

 

His second match was against Hanta Sero. Sero tried to wrap Izuku in tape and swing him out of bounds. Izuku stood perfectly still. Sero pulled on the tape, realized he couldn't move an eight-hundred-pound dinosaur an inch, over-torqued his own momentum, and accidentally swung himself out of bounds.

 

Match time: twelve seconds.

 

Izuku advanced to the semi-finals without throwing a single punch, without using a single aggressive move, and without breaking a sweat.

 

On the other side of the bracket, Katsuki Bakugo was a localized hurricane of rage and fire. He blasted Uraraka in a brutal, controversial match, tore through Kirishima’s defenses, and fought with the ferocity of a wild animal.

 

The stage was set for the second semi-final match.

 

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Present Mic roared, the crowd completely unglued. “THIS IS THE MATCHUP WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR! THE EXPLOSIVE PRODIGY OF CLASS 1-A, KATSUKI BAKUGO! VERSUS THE UNSTOPPABLE BEHEMOTH OF CLASS 1-C, IZUKU MIDORIYA!”

 

Izuku stepped onto the concrete fighting ring. He wore his standard PE uniform, his straw hat resting firmly on his head.

 

On the other side of the ring, Bakugo stepped out. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't smirking. He was vibrating with a terrifying, absolute fury.

 

Bakugo had spent his entire life being told he was the best. He had a powerful Quirk, incredible instincts, and a drive to win that bordered on insanity. And yet, this giant, scaly idiot, this Deku, was constantly looking down on him. Deku didn't even want to be a hero. Deku didn't even care about winning. He just walked through obstacles like they were nothing, treating everyone around him like minor annoyances.

 

"Deku," Bakugo said, his voice eerily quiet, carrying across the silent ring. "I'm going to kill you."

 

Izuku sighed, a long, deep rumble. "Kacchan, please. The prize money is on the line. I really need that tractor. Just step out of bounds so we can both go home without any property damage."

 

Bakugo’s eyes snapped wide open. Veins popped on his forehead.

 

"STEP OUT OF BOUNDS?!" Bakugo shrieked, his palms igniting with massive, blinding explosions. "I am going to blast you into a goddamn fossil! Take me seriously! Use your full power! Turn into the giant lizard and fight me, you bastard!"

 

“BEGIN!” Midnight yelled.

 

Bakugo didn't hold back. He launched himself forward with an explosion so powerful it cracked the concrete beneath his feet. He flew across the ring in a fraction of a second, leading with a devastating right hook aimed squarely at Izuku’s jaw.

 

BOOM!

 

The explosion engulfed Izuku’s head in fire and black smoke. The shockwave rattled the stadium seating.

 

Bakugo landed back on the ground, breathing heavily, his hands smoking. "How's that, huh?! You feel that?!"

 

The smoke slowly cleared.

 

Izuku was still standing there. His straw hat was slightly charred at the edges, and there was a smudge of soot on his green snout. He blinked, looking down at Bakugo.

 

"Kacchan, the concussive force is impressive," Izuku said analytically, "but your heat dispersal is highly inefficient. You're losing a lot of energy to the surrounding air."

 

"SHUT UP!" Bakugo roared, leaping into the air.

 

“STUN GRENADE!”

 

A massive flash of blinding light and heat erupted over the ring. Bakugo spun, using the momentum to unleash a continuous barrage of explosions against Izuku’s chest, arms, and face.

 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

 

The crowd watched in terrified silence as the explosive prodigy unleashed a merciless beating upon the Gen Ed student. The ring was utterly obscured by smoke, fire, and flying chunks of concrete.

 

Up in the stands, Uraraka gripped the railing. "Is... is Deku okay?"

 

"He's fine," Shinso said calmly. "The guy is a tank."

 

Down in the ring, Bakugo was panting, sweat pouring down his face, his arms aching from the sheer recoil of his own Quirk. He had thrown everything he had at the center of the smoke.

 

"I win," Bakugo gasped.

 

Suddenly, a massive, green, scaled hand reached out of the smoke and gently fanned it away.

 

Izuku stood in the center of a shallow crater, entirely unharmed. His PE uniform was burnt to a crisp, revealing the massive, impenetrable emerald scales covering his torso, but his flesh was untouched.

 

"Are you done, Kacchan?" Izuku asked politely. "My skin is starting to feel a little dry."

 

Bakugo’s mind snapped. He let out a feral, guttural scream of pure rage.

 

He propelled himself high into the air, spinning rapidly like a drill. He began to gather oxygen, his hands sparking as he prepared his ultimate, devastating attack. The air pressure in the stadium literally dropped as Bakugo sucked the oxygen into his vortex.

 

“HOWITZER IMPACT!”

 

Bakugo slammed into Izuku with the force of a tactical missile.

 

The resulting explosion was catastrophic. A massive pillar of fire and smoke erupted into the sky, towering over the stadium. The concussive wave shattered the remaining concrete of the fighting ring, sending debris flying into the protective energy shields erected around the audience.

 

The stadium was dead silent. Present Mic didn't even speak. Everyone stared at the massive cloud of smoke, waiting for the dust to settle.

 

Slowly, the smoke cleared.

 

The concrete ring was gone, replaced by a massive, blackened crater.

 

In the center of the crater stood Izuku Midoriya.

 

He was still on his feet. He was slightly out of breath, and his scales were blackened with soot, but he was undeniably, impossibly, still standing.

 

Bakugo was on his hands and knees a few feet away, completely spent. His arms hung limply at his sides, muscles torn from the recoil of his own ultimate attack. He looked up, his red eyes filled with a mixture of absolute horror and profound despair.

 

He had hit Deku with everything. And it wasn't enough.

 

"Why..." Bakugo whispered, tears of frustration pricking his eyes. "Why won't you fall? Why won't you fight me? Why are you so damn strong?!"

 

Izuku looked down at Bakugo. He didn't look angry. He looked sad.

 

"I told you, Kacchan," Izuku said softly, his deep voice carrying through the silent stadium. "True strength isn't about destroying things. You put all your energy into breaking me. But what did you accomplish? The ring is ruined. You're exhausted and hurt. And I'm still here."

 

Izuku took a heavy step forward, his tail swishing behind him.

 

"A farmer knows that if you beat the earth, it won't yield crops. You have to nurture it. You have to be patient. I don't want to fight you, Kacchan. I never wanted to fight you. I just wanted to buy a John Deere 8R Series tractor."

 

Bakugo stared at him, completely uncomprehending.

 

Izuku took a deep breath, preparing to gently pick Bakugo up and place him out of bounds to end the match.

 

But as Izuku breathed in, he paused. His golden eyes widened. He flared his nostrils, taking another deep sniff of the air.

 

The intense heat from Bakugo’s Howitzer Impact, combined with the dry afternoon air, had caused a massive, localized drop in ambient humidity.

 

Izuku whipped his head around, looking up at the sky. He pulled a small, digital hygrometer from the one surviving pocket of his pants.

 

He checked the reading.

 

Humidity: 22%.

 

Izuku gasped, a sound of absolute, genuine panic.

 

"Oh no!" Izuku cried out, his voice echoing over the loudspeakers. "The ambient humidity dropped too fast! The atmospheric pressure shift is going to drift across the campus! The greenhouse ventilation system is currently sucking in outside air! My Phalaenopsis orchids! They require a minimum of sixty percent humidity, or their buds will blast!"

 

The crowd, the Pro Heroes, and Principal Nezu stared in baffled silence.

 

Izuku didn't hesitate. He spun around, completely turning his back on Bakugo.

 

With heavy, thudding steps, Izuku sprinted out of the blackened crater. He didn't just step out of bounds; he ran completely out of the arena, his heavy tail knocking over a piece of remaining concrete.

 

"Midnight-sensei! I forfeit!" Izuku yelled as he ran down the tunnel. "I have to go manually override the humidifiers in Dome 4! Have a great day everyone! Tell Mr. Aizawa I'll bring him some cucumbers tomorrow!"

 

And just like that, Izuku Midoriya vanished into the shadows of the stadium tunnel, his heavy footsteps fading away.

 

Midnight stood at her podium, her whip dangling loosely from her hand. She blinked twice. She looked at the crater.

 

"Uhh..." Midnight stammered into the microphone. "Midoriya has stepped out of bounds and forfeited! The winner of the semi-finals is Katsuki Bakugo!"

 

The crowd let out a confused, lukewarm smattering of applause.

 

In the center of the ruined ring, Bakugo knelt in the dirt. He had won. He was going to the finals.

 

But he hadn't won. Deku hadn't even fought back. Deku had tanked his ultimate attack, given him an agricultural lecture, and then literally ran away to water his flowers.

 

Bakugo slowly raised his head to the sky.

 

A primal, soul-shattering scream of absolute, unadulterated agony ripped from Katsuki Bakugo’s throat, echoing across the U.A. campus. It was the sound of a boy whose entire worldview had just been shattered by a terrifying dinosaur who cared more about orchids than being a hero.

 

 

 

Far across the campus, inside the warm, moist environment of Auxiliary Dome 4, Izuku Midoriya was completely unaware of the existential crisis he had just caused.

 

He was carefully adjusting a dial on a humidifier, watching the gentle mist roll over a delicate row of purple orchids.

 

He sighed contentedly, wiping soot from his forehead.

 

"That was close, little guys," Izuku whispered, gently stroking a petal with a massive, razor-sharp claw. "Don't worry. I won't let you dry out."

 

He paused, a sad thought crossing his mind.

 

"I guess I won't be getting the prize money for the John Deere tractor, though." Izuku frowned, his tail slumping. "That's okay. A good farmer works with what he has. Maybe I can ask Uraraka to help me carry a manual plow tomorrow."

 

Izuku smiled, completely at peace, as the roars of the distant stadium faded into the gentle, rhythmic hum of the greenhouse ventilation fans.

 

The week following the U.A. Sports Festival was characterized by a strange, unprecedented atmosphere within the halls of the academy. Normally, the post-festival buzz was entirely focused on the students of Class 1-A. And while Katsuki Bakugo had technically taken first place, nobody was talking about him.

 

The media, the Pro Heroes, and the student body were entirely fixated on the "Savage Dinosaur of U.A."—the General Studies student who had effortlessly plowed through the obstacle course, treated the cavalry battle like a leisurely stroll, tanked the most devastating explosion ever recorded in school history, and then forfeited to go water his orchids.

 

Inside the quiet, unassuming classroom of Class 1-C, the morning sun filtered through the large windows. The homeroom teacher stood at the front of the class, looking slightly bewildered as he leaned against a hand-truck stacked with heavy cardboard boxes.

 

"Alright, settle down everyone," the teacher called out, clapping his hands. "As you know, the Sports Festival is a prime opportunity for Pro Heroes to draft students for their workplace internships. Usually, Gen Ed students don't receive many offers, if any. However..."

 

The teacher gestured to the boxes. "We have a bit of an anomaly this year."

 

He picked up a single sheet of paper from the podium. "Shinso. You received three offers from underground hero agencies. Congratulations."

 

Shinso, sitting next to Izuku, blinked in surprise, a small, triumphant smile breaking through his usual exhaustion. "Three? Really?"

 

"Indeed. Outstanding work," the teacher nodded. Then, he let out a long, heavy sigh and looked toward the back of the room. "And then... there's Midoriya."

 

Izuku looked up from a thick tome titled The Micro-Biomes of Volcanic Ash Soil, his golden, slit-pupil eyes blinking innocently. "Yes, sensei?"

 

"Midoriya," the teacher said, rubbing his temples. "You received four thousand, three hundred and twelve draft offers."

 

The entire class snapped their necks to look at the giant green teenager.

 

"Four thousand?" a girl with horns gasped. "That's more than Todoroki and Bakugo combined!"

 

"Every major Hero Agency in the country wants you, Midoriya," the teacher said, wheeling the hand-truck full of boxes down the aisle and parking it next to Izuku’s custom-reinforced steel desk. "Top ten heroes. Rescue agencies. Combat squads. They all want the T-Rex."

 

Izuku looked at the towering boxes of envelopes. He didn't look excited. He looked deeply, profoundly overwhelmed. "But... I don't want to fight villains. Did any of them mention agriculture? Or at least municipal landscaping?"

 

Shinso leaned over, plucking an envelope from the top of the nearest box. It bore a wax seal stamped with a flaming emblem. "Midoriya, this is from the Number Two Hero, Endeavor. He’s offering you a direct internship."

 

Shinso ripped the envelope open and read the letter aloud. "Midoriya. Your sheer destructive power is second only to my own. Join my agency. Together, we will crush all villains beneath our heels and show the world what true, unyielding strength looks like."

 

Izuku frowned, his heavy, scaly brow furrowing. He gently took the letter from Shinso, holding the expensive parchment between two massive, razor-sharp claws.

 

"Endeavor... his Quirk is Hellflame, isn't it?" Izuku mused, his deep, cavernous voice vibrating in the quiet classroom. "That's highly problematic. Uncontrolled, high-intensity flames destroy the topsoil. It burns away the essential organic matter and kills the beneficial microorganisms necessary for nitrogen fixation. If I interned with him, I'd just be spending all my time trying to re-inoculate the soil he scorched. No, thank you. That sounds exhausting."

 

Izuku dropped the letter from the Number Two Hero into a small wastebasket by his desk.

 

Shinso stared at him, dumbfounded. "You just... threw away an offer from Endeavor because he's bad for the dirt?"

 

"Good soil health is the foundation of a prosperous society, Shinso," Izuku replied earnestly.

 

Izuku reached into the box and pulled out another fancy envelope. "Oh, this one is from the Number Three Hero, Hawks." Izuku carefully opened it and read. "He says my raw power would be a great asset for high-profile villain takedowns in Fukuoka. But Fukuoka is highly urbanized. There's virtually no arable land near his agency headquarters. What would I even do all day? Stand on buildings?" Izuku sighed, tossing the letter into the trash as well.

 

For the next hour, while the rest of the class read quietly, Izuku meticulously went through the boxes, throwing away offer after offer from the most prestigious heroes in Japan.

 

Best Jeanist? Too much focus on denim, not enough on the cotton farming process.

Mirko? Rabbit Quirks are notorious for destroying root vegetable crops. Absolute pest behavior.

Edgeshot? Too pointy. Might accidentally puncture a fertilizer bag.

 

Finally, near the bottom of the third box, Izuku’s massive claws brushed against a plain, recycled-paper envelope. He opened it. As he read the contents, his golden eyes widened, his slit pupils expanding until they were nearly perfect circles. His heavy tail, which had been resting passively behind him, suddenly began to thump against the floor with rhythmic, dog-like excitement.

 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

 

"Shinso!" Izuku gasped, his booming voice startling the entire class. "Look at this!"

 

Shinso leaned over, looking at the letter. It had a logo of a cat paw on it.

 

"The Wild, Wild Pussycats?" Shinso read. "They're a veteran mountain rescue team. Why are you so excited?"

 

Izuku’s terrifying, tooth-filled maw stretched into a smile of absolute, radiant joy. "Look at the fine print! They own privately managed forest land! Thousands of acres of untouched, mountainous terrain! And look at their Quirks! Mandalay has Telepathic communication—perfect for coordinating harvests across large distances! Tiger is incredibly strong—great for hauling heavy equipment! But best of all... Pixie-Bob!"

 

"The blonde one?" Shinso asked. "Earth Flow, right?"

 

"Yes!" Izuku cheered, practically vibrating in his seat, the steel desk groaning under his shifting weight. "She can manipulate the earth! Do you know what that means, Shinso? She can instantly terrace a mountainside! She can churn the soil without a rotary tiller! If we combine her Quirk with my physical plowing capabilities, we could terraform an entire mountain into a massive, multi-tiered, high-altitude agricultural paradise in less than a week!"

 

Izuku pulled out a pen, his massive claws delicately clicking the top. He began to furiously fill out the acceptance form.

 

"I'm going to the Beast's Forest," Izuku declared, his eyes burning with an intense, fiery passion that most people reserved for avenging murdered loved ones. "And I'm going to plant so many potatoes."

 

 

 

The train ride to the rural mountainous region was a logistical nightmare. Izuku had to buy three adjacent seats on the bullet train just to fit his massive shoulders, and his tail had to be carefully curled around his feet to avoid tripping the snack cart attendant.

 

He was wearing his best pair of heavy-duty denim overalls, a fresh white t-shirt, and his signature wide-brimmed straw hat. In his lap rested a massive duffel bag filled not with hero costumes or combat gear, but with soil pH testers, rare seeds, trowels, and a fifty-pound bag of premium bone meal he had bought as a hostess gift.

 

When the train finally arrived at the rural station, Izuku had to duck almost to his knees to get out the door.

 

Waiting for him on the empty, sun-drenched platform were two women in brightly colored, cat-themed hero costumes.

 

"Welcome to the middle of nowhere!" Pixie-Bob cheered, throwing her hands in the air. "We're the Wild, Wild Pussycats! I'm Pixie-Bob, and this is Mandalay!"

 

Mandalay smiled warmly, though her eyes were slightly wide as she took in the sheer, imposing size of the student stepping off the train. Television hadn't done the boy justice. He wasn't just tall; he was an absolute mountain of reptilian muscle.

 

"Hello!" Izuku rumbled politely, bowing so low his straw hat nearly touched his knees. "I am Izuku Midoriya. Thank you so much for accepting my internship! I brought you a gift!"

 

Izuku hoisted the massive, fifty-pound bag of fertilizer with one finger and gently offered it to them.

 

Pixie-Bob blinked, looking at the bag of bone meal. "Oh. Um. Thank you! That's... very practical."

 

"It's highly rich in phosphorus," Izuku explained earnestly. "Excellent for root development in young saplings. I noticed from the train that the local pine population has been suffering from a slight needle blight, likely due to poor nutrient absorption in the rocky soil."

 

Mandalay exchanged a bewildered look with Pixie-Bob. They had drafted Midoriya because they had seen him throw a bio-engineered monster into the stratosphere, figuring his raw strength would be a perfect addition to their mountain rescue operations. They hadn't expected a botanist in the body of an apex predator.

 

"Well, thank you, Midoriya," Mandalay said, recovering her composure. "Let's head to the camp. We have a lot of ground to cover."

 

The drive to the lodge was taken in a specially modified, heavy-duty flatbed truck, as Izuku couldn't fit in the cab. He sat happily in the back, the wind whipping past his scales, enjoying the rich, unpolluted smell of the forest.

 

When they arrived at the massive wooden lodge nestled deep in the mountains, the rest of the team was waiting.

 

Tiger, a massive, muscular man in a tight cat costume, crossed his arms. "So, this is the boy with the dinosaur Quirk. Let's see if your spirit is as strong as your body!"

 

Next to Tiger stood a small, angry-looking boy wearing a red horned hat. This was Kota, Mandalay's nephew. He was glaring daggers at Izuku.

 

Izuku climbed out of the truck, the suspension groaning in relief. He walked over to the group, his tail dragging slightly in the dirt.

 

"Hey, giant lizard!" Kota yelled, stepping forward, pointing an accusing finger at Izuku. "Don't think you can come here and act like a bigshot hero! I hate heroes! You're all just showing off your stupid powers for fame! You make me sick!"

 

Mandalay gasped. "Kota! Behave yourself! Midoriya is our guest!"

 

Tiger tensed, ready to intervene if the giant, terrifying teenager decided to retaliate against the child. Pro Heroes had egos, and being insulted by a five-year-old usually didn't go over well.

 

Izuku stopped. He looked down at the tiny, angry boy.

 

Slowly, the terrifying T-Rex boy dropped to one knee, bringing himself slightly closer to Kota's eye level, though he was still massive. Izuku didn't look angry. He looked entirely unfazed by the insult.

 

"You hate heroes?" Izuku asked, his deep voice soft and rumbling.

 

"Yeah! They're stupid!" Kota spat, though he took half a step back, slightly intimidated by the sheer size of the teeth in Izuku’s mouth.

 

"I completely agree," Izuku nodded sagely.

 

The entire Pussycat team froze.

 

"Wait, what?" Kota blinked, his angry facade slipping into confusion.

 

"Heroes are always fighting," Izuku explained, sitting back on his heels. "They break buildings, they set things on fire, they trample the grass. They're very loud and they don't appreciate the quiet things in life. That's why I'm not going to be a hero."

 

Kota stared at him. "You're... you're not?"

 

"No," Izuku smiled warmly. "I'm a farmer. I just came to the mountains because Pixie-Bob has a Quirk that can help me plant vegetables. Do you like vegetables, Kota?"

 

"I... I guess? I like corn," the boy muttered, completely thrown off script.

 

"Corn is excellent!" Izuku beamed. He reached into his deep overall pocket with two massive claws, pinched something delicately, and pulled it out. He extended his terrifying hand toward Kota. "Look what I found on the walk from the truck."

 

Kota cautiously stepped forward. Resting in the center of Izuku’s massive, scaled palm was a beautiful, iridescent green rhinoceros beetle.

 

"Whoa," Kota breathed, his childish wonder overtaking his angst. "It's huge."

 

"It's a Trypoxylus dichotomus," Izuku whispered. "They love the sap of the oak trees around here. You have to be very gentle with them. Do you want to hold him?"

 

Kota nodded slowly. Izuku gently tipped his hand, allowing the beetle to crawl onto the boy's fingers. Kota smiled, a genuine, rare smile.

 

Mandalay watched the interaction with wide eyes. This boy, who had a Quirk that radiated pure, violent destruction, possessed a gentleness that was almost heartbreaking.

 

"Alright," Pixie-Bob said, wiping a fake tear from her eye. "That's adorable. But Midoriya, you're here for an internship. That means training."

 

Izuku stood up, carefully adjusting his straw hat. "I am ready. Where is the soil the most nutrient-deficient?"

 

Tiger cracked his knuckles. "Soil? Boy, we're going to put you through a physical boot camp that will break your—"

 

"Wait, Tiger," Pixie-Bob interrupted, a sly grin spreading across her face. She looked at Izuku. "You said my Quirk would be useful for planting?"

 

"Oh, absolutely!" Izuku said, pulling out a meticulously drawn blueprint from his pocket. "If you use your Earth Flow to create a series of terraced steps along the southern face of that mountain, we could maximize sun exposure! The problem with terracing is the sheer amount of physical labor required to break the hardpan clay underneath. But with my physical strength and your Quirk, we could terraform the entire slope!"

 

Pixie-Bob looked at the blueprint. She looked at the mountain. She looked at Izuku.

 

"Tiger," Pixie-Bob said, her eyes shining with competitive fire. "Cancel the obstacle course. The kid wants to move a mountain. Let's see if he can keep up with me."

 

 

 

What followed over the next five days was less of a hero internship and more of an extreme, Quirk-assisted agricultural miracle.

 

The Beast's Forest was normally a place of quiet, natural beauty. But for that week, the southern mountain face echoed with the sounds of earth-shattering labor.

 

Pixie-Bob would stand at the base of the mountain, her hands pressed to the dirt, using Earth Flow to shift thousands of tons of soil, creating massive, flat, stepped terraces up the mountainside.

 

Following right behind her was Izuku Midoriya.

 

Stripped to the waist, his massive green torso glistening with sweat, Izuku acted as the ultimate piece of farm machinery. Where Pixie-Bob moved the earth, Izuku conditioned it.

 

He didn't use tools. He didn't need to. He dropped to all fours and dragged his massive, razor-sharp claws through the packed earth, tearing through the hardpan clay and rocks as easily as a knife through butter. He was a living, breathing rotary tiller.

 

Once a terrace was aerated, he would stand up and use his massive, muscular tail like a steamroller.

 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

 

He swung his heavy tail down against the edges of the terraces, compacting the soil to prevent erosion.

 

Tiger, who was supposed to be running a grueling physical boot camp, found himself utterly outmatched. He tried to help Izuku haul massive boulders out of the soil to build retaining walls. Tiger would struggle to carry a rock the size of a microwave. Izuku would casually pick up a boulder the size of a minivan, balance it on his shoulder, and politely ask Tiger where he wanted it.

 

"The boy's stamina is monstrous," Tiger panted, collapsing onto a stump on the third day, watching Izuku happily dig a two-mile irrigation trench with his bare hands. "He's been doing back-breaking manual labor for fourteen hours straight, and he hasn't even stopped to breathe hard."

 

"He's in his element," Mandalay smiled, handing Tiger a canteen. "He told me last night that he considers this a 'vacation.' I don't think he even views this as a workout."

 

It was a peaceful, idyllic existence.

 

In the evenings, Izuku would sit by the fire with the Pussycats and Kota. He cooked for them, using vegetables he had rapidly grown using a combination of specialized fertilizers and localized greenhouse tents. The food was incredible—crisp, flavorful, and packed with energy.

 

Kota, who had spent years pushing everyone away out of anger over his parents' deaths, found himself gravitating toward the giant green teenager. Izuku never talked about justice, or fighting, or villains. He talked about the root systems of the giant redwoods. He talked about how certain flowers only bloomed at night to attract specific moths.

 

To Kota, Izuku wasn't a hero. He was just a really big, really friendly gardener who knew everything about the woods.

 

On the fifth night, the tranquility of the mountain was shattered.

 

 

 

Izuku was standing in a small clearing a few miles from the lodge, admiring a patch of rare mountain lilies he had discovered. He was holding a small, battery-powered lantern, his tail swishing lazily behind him.

 

Suddenly, he stopped.

 

His nostrils flared. His slit pupils constricted in the darkness.

 

He didn't hear anything. He felt it.

 

The forest, which was normally a symphony of crickets, rustling leaves, and nocturnal birds, had gone completely, deathly silent.

 

Izuku sniffed the air again. His advanced reptilian olfactory senses picked up a scent that made his blood run cold.

 

It wasn't a natural smell. It was the sharp, acrid scent of ozone, burning pine needles, and... chemicals. A sweet, sickly chemical smell that hung heavy in the air.

 

Mustard gas.

 

Izuku looked down at the mountain lilies. As the invisible gas drifted into the clearing, the delicate white petals of the flowers began to brown at the edges. They shriveled, the chemical agent violently disrupting their cellular structure.

 

In seconds, the beautiful, living flowers withered and died.

 

Izuku’s golden eyes widened. The lantern in his hand creaked as his grip tightened, the metal bending under his claws.

 

Across the valley, a massive pillar of unnatural, bright blue flame erupted into the night sky, setting a swath of the ancient forest ablaze.

 

The League of Villains' Vanguard Action Squad had arrived.

 

They had come early. They were looking for the U.A. students' training camp, acting on bad intelligence, unaware that Class 1-A was training at a completely different facility hundreds of miles away. But they were here, and they were destroying everything in their path.

 

Izuku didn't think about Pro Heroes. He didn't think about his internship.

 

He looked at the dead lilies at his feet. He looked at the blue flames devouring the ancient pines he had spent all week admiring. He smelled the poison choking the wildlife.

 

A deep, ancient switch flipped in his brain.

 

A farmer spends his life nurturing the land. He plants the seeds, waters the soil, and protects the sprouts. But a farmer also knows that nature is full of wolves. And when the wolves come to trample the fields and slaughter the flock, the farmer doesn't run away.

 

The farmer grabs his rifle.

 

Izuku Midoriya let out a long, rattling hiss. His baseline form wasn't enough for this. He needed the power to protect his harvest.

 

His bones began to crack and expand. His muscles tore through his denim overalls, his emerald scales thickening into impenetrable armor. His jaws elongated, exposing rows of deadly, serrated teeth. His body rapidly expanded, growing taller and taller, until the canopy of the trees brushed against his back.

 

The transformation was silent, save for the horrifying sound of shifting bone and tearing fabric.

 

When it was over, an eight-ton, forty-foot-long Tyrannosaurus Rex stood in the clearing.

 

Izuku didn't roar. He didn't want to alert his prey.

 

Instead, the apex predator lowered his massive head, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness. He opened his jaws, tasting the chemical tang of the poison gas on his tongue, tracking it back to its source.

 

With impossible stealth for a creature of his size, the dinosaur slipped into the dense shadows of the trees and began to hunt.

 

 

 

A mile away, near the newly built agricultural terraces, two members of the Vanguard Action Squad were walking through the woods.

 

Mustard, wearing his middle-school uniform and gas mask, had his arms raised, continuously pumping his toxic sleep gas into the surrounding forest.

 

Walking slightly ahead of him was Muscular. The massive, blonde villain was cracking his neck, looking incredibly bored.

 

"This is a bust," Muscular grumbled, kicking a small tree so hard it snapped in half. "Dabi said the U.A. brats would be here. I wanted to fight that explosive kid. Or that giant lizard from the Sports Festival. Instead, there's nobody here but some stupid cats and a bunch of dirt steps."

 

Muscular walked up to the edge of the beautifully manicured, perfectly aerated terrace that Izuku had spent hours building.

 

"Look at this crap," Muscular sneered. He activated his Quirk. Massive, raw muscle fibers erupted from his skin, wrapping around his arm like thick ropes of bloody meat.

 

With a laugh, Muscular slammed his augmented fist into the terrace.

 

The sheer force of the blow shattered the compacted earth. The retaining wall collapsed, sending tons of carefully tilled soil and precious topsoil cascading down the mountain in a useless landslide.

 

"Pathetic," Muscular spat. "Come on, Mustard. Let's head toward the lodge. Maybe there's someone to kill there."

 

"Whatever," Mustard mumbled through his mask. "Just don't get in the way of my gas."

 

They walked forward.

 

Thump.

 

Mustard stopped. He turned his head. "Did you hear that?"

 

Muscular frowned, looking into the dense, dark woods. "Hear what?"

 

Thump.

 

It wasn't a sound, exactly. It was a vibration. A heavy, rhythmic tremor that traveled up through the soles of their shoes. It felt like a localized earthquake.

 

Suddenly, the ambient temperature in the woods seemed to drop. The crickets, which had been chirping loudly to escape the gas, went completely silent.

 

A thick, pungent smell washed over them, overpowering even the smell of Mustard's gas. It smelled like raw meat, ancient musk, and hot copper.

 

"Who's there?" Muscular yelled, a grin spreading across his face as he powered up his muscle fibers, covering both his arms in a dense, bulletproof armor of raw flesh. "Show yourself! Come out and play!"

 

The trees twenty feet in front of them suddenly parted.

 

They didn't bend. They were physically pushed aside, roots snapping and trunks splintering, as a massive shadow emerged from the darkness.

 

Mustard took a step back, his eyes widening behind his gas mask. "What... what is that?"

 

The moonlight broke through the canopy, illuminating a massive, terrifying snout. Golden, slit-pupil eyes, each the size of a dinner plate, stared down at them with an intensity that burned like a physical brand.

 

It was a Tyrannosaurus Rex. It was easily fourteen feet tall at the hip, its dense emerald scales reflecting the pale moonlight. It stood perfectly still, its massive chest heaving slowly, silently.

 

Muscular stared at the beast. For a split second, the sheer, primal horror of being face-to-face with an extinct apex predator froze the blood in his veins. But his arrogance quickly swallowed his fear.

 

"Ha! The lizard kid!" Muscular laughed, a manic, violent sound. "You're supposed to be at the other camp! I watched you at the Sports Festival! You think you can intimidate me just because you're big? My muscle fibers can tank an explosion from Bakugo! I'll tear your jaws open!"

 

The T-Rex didn't roar. It didn't posture.

 

It looked down at the ruined terrace. It looked at the landslide of wasted topsoil.

 

Then, it looked back at Muscular.

 

And it moved.

 

It didn't move like a clunky movie monster. It moved with the terrifying, explosive speed of a bird of prey.

 

Before Muscular could even raise his arms to strike, Izuku’s massive, muscular tail whipped forward. It was a tactical, precision strike. The tail, weighing easily two tons and moving at blinding speed, slammed directly into Muscular's ribs.

 

The impact sounded like a cannon firing.

 

Muscular’s Quirk absorbed some of the impact, but the kinetic force was undeniable. The villain was launched off his feet, flying backward through the air, crashing through three thick pine trees before embedding himself into the side of a rocky outcropping.

 

Mustard screamed, stumbling backward, desperately trying to intensify his poison gas. "Stay back! Sleep! Go to sleep!"

 

Izuku turned his massive head toward the boy in the gas mask. He flared his nostrils.

 

Reptiles have incredibly efficient respiratory systems, capable of extracting oxygen and holding their breath for extended periods. Izuku simply stopped breathing. He closed his throat, entirely unfazed by the toxic cloud surrounding him.

 

He didn't want to hurt the boy. He just wanted to stop the poison.

 

Izuku lowered his head, bringing his terrifying, tooth-filled snout inches from Mustard's face. The sheer size of the dinosaur’s head was larger than Mustard's entire body.

 

Izuku opened his mouth and let out a long, hot exhale—a low, rumbling hiss that blew the gas mask right off the boy's face and sent him tumbling backward into the dirt.

 

Mustard looked up at the towering monster, his bladder letting go, utterly paralyzed by prehistoric terror.

 

Izuku didn't bite him. He just reached down with one of his tiny, yet incredibly strong, three-fingered arms. He delicately pinched the back of Mustard's uniform, lifted the boy into the air, and flicked him expertly against a tree trunk. The impact knocked Mustard unconscious instantly.

 

One pest down.

 

Suddenly, a roar of pure rage echoed from the rocks.

 

Muscular erupted from the rubble, his entire body now encased in a massive, grotesque mountain of muscle fibers. He looked like a giant, skinless demon. His right eye was bloodshot and manic.

 

"YOU BASTARD!" Muscular roared, launching himself through the air. He was fast, leaping over fifty feet in a single bound, aiming a devastating, earth-shattering punch directly at Izuku’s skull.

 

"I'LL CRUSH YOUR HEAD!"

 

Izuku watched the villain fly toward him.

 

He remembered the feeling of the soil under his claws. He remembered the smell of the lilies before the gas hit them. He remembered Kota's smile when he held the beetle.

 

These villains were a blight on the earth. And Izuku was going to prune them.

 

Izuku planted his massive, three-toed feet into the ground. He didn't dodge. As Muscular closed the distance, his giant, fleshy fist aimed right for Izuku's eye, the dinosaur simply tilted his head, unhinged his jaw, and bit down.

 

Not on Muscular's body. On Muscular's augmented, muscle-wrapped arm.

 

CRUNCH.

 

Sixty serrated, bone-crushing teeth sank deep into the raw muscle fibers of Muscular’s Quirk.

 

Muscular’s forward momentum was brought to a dead, violent halt. He hung in mid-air, entirely supported by the massive jaws clamped around his arm.

 

The villain’s confident grin vanished, replaced by sheer, unadulterated agony. The teeth had pierced through his armor, sinking into his actual flesh. The bite force was astronomical—a hydraulic press of organic power.

 

"GAAAH! LET GO!" Muscular shrieked, desperately swinging his free hand to punch the T-Rex in the snout.

 

The punches hit Izuku’s scales with loud thuds, but Izuku didn't even blink. He just tightened his jaw.

 

Crack.

 

The sound of Muscular's humerus fracturing echoed through the silent woods.

 

Izuku wasn't a Pro Hero. He didn't have martial arts training. He didn't know judo throws or boxing combinations.

 

But he knew how to uproot a stubborn stump.

 

With Muscular still trapped in his jaws, Izuku violently jerked his massive head backward, ripping the villain completely off his feet. Izuku began to thrash, violently swinging his neck from side to side like a crocodile performing a death roll.

 

Muscular was whipped through the air like a ragdoll. He slammed into the ground on the left, bouncing off the hard-packed earth. Before he could recover, Izuku whipped his head to the right, smashing the villain through the trunk of an old-growth oak tree.

 

"STOP! STOP!" Muscular screamed, his muscle fibers unraveling, his body breaking under the sheer, unyielding physics of the dinosaur's assault.

 

Izuku stopped thrashing. He lifted his head high into the air, the battered, bleeding, and entirely broken Muscular dangling from his jaws.

 

Izuku looked the villain in the eye. A golden, reptilian stare of absolute, unfeeling judgment.

 

With a dismissive toss of his head, Izuku opened his jaws and hurled Muscular away. The villain flew through the air, crashing into the side of the mountain, tumbling down into the very dirt he had ruined just minutes before. Muscular lay there, completely unconscious, his Quirk deactivating as his body succumbed to the trauma.

 

Silence fell over the clearing once again.

 

The heavy footsteps of the T-Rex thumped softly against the earth. Izuku walked over to the ruined terrace. He looked at the collapsed dirt.

 

Slowly, the massive beast began to shrink. The scales receded, the tail vanished, and the terrible jaws melted away.

 

Izuku Midoriya sat in the dirt, wearing nothing but his tattered, oversized boxer shorts. The night air was chilly, but he didn't seem to notice.

 

He crawled forward on his hands and knees. He reached into the collapsed soil of the landslide. With incredible gentleness, his massive, clawed hands dug through the dirt until he found it.

 

A single, tiny green sprout that had been buried in the chaos.

 

Izuku carefully cupped the sprout in his hands, packing rich soil around its exposed roots, patting it down to ensure it was secure.

 

"There you go," Izuku whispered, his deep voice carrying a terrifyingly soft tenderness. "You're safe now. The wolves are gone."

 

 

 

An hour later, the Pro Heroes finally arrived at the scene.

 

Mandalay, Tiger, and a squad of local police burst into the clearing, expecting to find a horrific battle scene. They had seen the blue flames and smelled the gas from the lodge.

 

What they found left them completely speechless.

 

Muscular, an A-Rank villain known for murdering Pro Heroes, was securely tied to a thick pine tree using his own muscle-enhancing suspenders. He was unconscious, bruised, and covered in dinosaur saliva.

 

Next to him, Mustard was similarly bound, snoring peacefully.

 

And sitting on a nearby stump, wearing a spare jacket Tiger had left at the worksite, was Izuku Midoriya. He was currently using a small, specialized trowel to carefully re-pot a damaged mountain lily into a transportable container.

 

"Midoriya!" Mandalay gasped, running forward. "Are you hurt?! We saw the flames!"

 

Izuku looked up, smiling politely. "Oh, hello Mandalay! I'm completely fine. These gentlemen tried to disrupt the local ecosystem with highly toxic chemicals. And one of them ruined the structural integrity of terrace number four."

 

Izuku’s eyes darkened slightly, a hint of the apex predator flashing in his golden pupils. "I asked them to leave."

 

Tiger looked at the crater in the side of the mountain where Muscular had been thrown. He looked at the bite marks on the villain's armor. He swallowed hard.

 

"You... you took down Muscular," Tiger said, awe evident in his voice. "Single-handedly. He killed Water Hose. He's a monster."

 

Izuku gently patted the soil around the lily. "He was a weed, Tiger. If you don't pull weeds by the root, they just come back to choke the harvest."

 

Mandalay looked at the boy. He wasn't arrogant. He wasn't boasting about his victory. He was entirely focused on saving a single flower.

 

At that moment, the Pussycats realized what All Might, Principal Nezu, and Class 1-C had already figured out.

 

Izuku Midoriya didn't want to be a hero. He didn't care about the fame, the rankings, or the glory of battle.

 

But if you threatened his world—if you threatened the peace, the plants, or the people he had chosen to nurture—he would become something far more terrifying than a hero.

 

He would become the force of nature itself.