Two Months Later- January
Two months of balancing friendship, pack, and preparation had reshaped Izuku's daily life in unexpected ways.
His academic progress continued steadily reading at ninth-grade level now, math approaching where it should be for his age. Mrs. Kojima had graduated him from daily lunch sessions to twice-weekly check-ins. Ms. Tanaka said if he kept up his current pace, he'd be ready for UA's written exam. Not guaranteed to pass, but ready to try.
His physical training had intensified. Morning workouts now included the full forty-five pounds in his weighted vest, ten pounds per ankle. His pull-up count had reached one hundred and fifty. His sparring with the pack on weekends had evolved into genuine combat training they were all getting faster, stronger, more dangerous.
And then there was Bakugo.
Three to four times a week, Izuku would go to the Bakugo house after school. They'd play video games, study together Bakugo was actually good at explaining concepts in ways that clicked, sometimes just talk. The Bakugo household had become a second home.
But the dynamic at school remained complicated.
Bakugo had kept his word he didn't trash-talk the pack to Izuku's face anymore. But he also didn't acknowledge them. He'd walk past Kaito, Yuki, and Hana like they were furniture. In classes they shared, he acted like they didn't exist. The only person who mattered to Bakugo was Izuku.
And Izuku was caught in the middle.
"He's still an asshole," Kaito said during one of their weekend training sessions at the warehouse. It was mid-January, cold enough that their breath misted in the air. "Just because he doesn't call us freaks to your face doesn't mean he's not thinking it."
"I know," Izuku said, adjusting his weighted vest. They were about to start sparring rounds. "But he's trying. In his own way."
"Trying would be actually acknowledging we exist," Yuki said from her perch. "What he's doing is tolerating us because you made him."
"Is that enough for you?" Hana asked quietly. "Having a friend who hates your pack?"
Izuku's tail lashed with frustration. "He doesn't hate you. He just... doesn't value you the way I do. He thinks strength is all that matters, and to him, I'm the only one worth his attention."
"Which is exactly the problem," Daiki said. He'd started joining their weekend sessions more regularly, his GED prep allowing flexibility. "That kind of thinking is toxic. Everyone's an 'extra' except the people he deems worthy? That's not how heroes think."
"I know," Izuku said. "And I'm working on it. He's better than he was two months ago. That has to count for something."
"Does it though?" Kaito challenged. "Because from where I'm standing, he's still the same arrogant prick. He just hides it around you."
"That's not fair"
"It is fair," Kaito interrupted, his furred hands clenching. "Look, I get that you have history with him. I get that he's important to you. But Izuku, we're your pack. We survived hell together. We've had your back since day one. And you're asking us to be okay with someone who looks at us like we're trash."
The warehouse went silent. Even the ambient city sounds seemed muted.
"I'm not asking you to like him," Izuku said finally. "I'm asking you to understand that he's part of my life. Just like you're part of my life. I don't want to choose between you."
"Then maybe he should learn to respect us," Yuki said. "Not for his sake. For yours."
"I'm working on it," Izuku repeated. "It's going to take time. He's been this way his whole life thinking he's better than everyone. Changing that doesn't happen overnight."
"Just don't lose yourself trying to fix him," Hana said softly. "We need you too, Izuku. Our pack alpha. Don't forget that while you're rebuilding a friendship with someone who doesn't even see us as people."
The words hit harder than any of them probably intended. Izuku felt that warm certainty in his chest his pack bond, the connection forged through shared survival pulling at him. They were right. They deserved better than being ignored and dismissed.
But Bakugo was also right about one thing: he and Izuku were equals in a way the others weren't. Not because they were stronger though Bakugo definitely thought that but because they shared something the pack couldn't understand. A childhood before the jungle. A life before the trauma.
"I hear you," Izuku said. "All of you. And you're right he needs to do better. I'll talk to him again. Push harder. But I'm not giving up on either relationship. You're my pack. He's my friend. I need you both."
"Then he better step up," Kaito said. "Because I'm tired of being treated like I'm invisible."
"Agreed," Yuki said.
"Same," Hana added.
Daiki just nodded, his reptilian eyes understanding but firm.
"Alright," Izuku said. "I'll handle it. Now can we please spar? I need to hit something."
That got small smiles, and they moved into their training rotation. But the tension lingered, a reminder that Izuku was walking a tightrope between two very different parts of his life.
"Hana, you're up first," Daiki called out, acting as referee. "Izuku's been tense all week. Let's see if you can take him."
Hana dropped from her web hammock, landing silently in the center of the cleared space. Her compound eyes tracked Izuku as he removed his weighted vest and ankle weights—forty-five pounds and twenty pounds respectively hitting the concrete with heavy thuds.
"No holding back?" Hana asked, her spiders spreading out around her in a defensive perimeter.
"No holding back," Izuku confirmed, dropping into a crouch. His tail swayed behind him, his pupils contracting to slits. The predator instinct stirred, eager.
"Go!" Daiki shouted.
Izuku exploded forward with blinding speed.
He closed the distance in less than a second, his enhanced feline reflexes making his movement almost blur. Hana barely had time to react before he was there, his claws extended but controlled sharp enough to score but not seriously injure.
He struck with precision right slash, left slash, the movements forming an X across her torso. Hana's enhanced durability meant the strikes didn't break skin, but they pushed her back, forced her on the defensive.
Before she could counter, Izuku pivoted low and launched into a double donkey kick—both feet driving up and out with explosive force. The impact caught Hana in the chest and sent her flying upward, her lightweight body unable to resist the momentum.
Too fast, Hana thought, already adjusting mid-air.
She fired a web line at the ceiling, using it to arrest her upward momentum and swing herself into a controlled arc. As she came back down, she sent three more web lines shooting toward Izuku trying to bind his legs, his arms, anything to slow him down.
But Izuku was already moving. He twisted, dropped, rolled each web missing by inches. His tail flicked one aside. His reflexes read the trajectory of each line before it fully formed, his predator instincts calculating angles and timing without conscious thought.
Hana landed hard but rolled to her feet immediately. She had to change tactics couldn't match his speed, so she needed to trap him, control the field.
She rushed forward, closing distance while simultaneously firing a web line at his right arm. It connected, sticky silk wrapping around his wrist. She yanked hard, pulling him off balance and toward her.
Izuku let himself be pulled using the momentum instead of fighting it. As he came toward her, Hana's arm shot out in a clothesline, the silk-reinforced strike catching him across the chest.
The impact sent Izuku flipping backward through the air. He rotated once, twice, his tail stabilizing him, and landed on his feet in a deep crouch claws scraping the concrete, perfectly balanced.
For a moment, they stared at each other, both breathing hard.
Then Izuku's lips pulled back in a predatory grin.
He moved but not toward her. Instead, he melted into the shadows at the edge of the warehouse, disappearing into the darkness between old crates and support pillars.
Hana's compound eyes darted, trying to track him, but the shadows were too deep. Her vision, excellent as it was, couldn't penetrate the darkness the way Izuku's cat eyes could.
"Not this again," she muttered.
She began firing web lines into the darkness creating a sensory net. Each strand would vibrate if something touched it, giving her information about movement, location. She laid out a dozen lines in seconds, crisscrossing the shadowed areas like an early warning system.
In the darkness, Izuku watched the webs form. His night vision made them visible beautiful in their construction, deadly in their effectiveness. Hana was smart, adaptable. But the tiger had taught him patience. Taught him to wait. To move only when the prey felt safe.
He shifted his weight slowly, carefully, testing each footfall before committing. A web line hung just inches from his shoulder. He ducked under it, his body flexible enough to contort beneath without touching. Another line crossed at knee height. He stepped over it with deliberate control.
The web net was sophisticated, but it had gaps. Small spaces where the lines didn't quite connect. Spaces just large enough for someone who knew how to make themselves small, how to flow like water through stone.
Izuku crept through the net, his breathing controlled, his movements glacial. Hana had turned slightly, her attention focused on a different section of the warehouse where she'd heard a sound probably Kaito shifting his weight to watch better.
Perfect.
Izuku surged out of the shadows like a striking snake.
He was on her before she could react, his momentum driving her to the ground. His hands pinned her shoulders, his knees bracketing her hips, his tail wrapped around one of her legs for additional control. The position was absolute she was locked down, unable to leverage her strength or produce webs effectively.
"Yield?" Izuku asked, his voice slightly breathless but controlled.
"I hate when you do that," Hana said, but there was no real frustration in her voice. Just acknowledgment. "Yield."
Izuku immediately released the pin and stood, offering his hand. She took it and he pulled her up easily, his enhanced strength making her weight negligible.
"That felt good," Izuku said, rolling his shoulders. The tension that had been building all week the stress of balancing pack and Bakugo, of academic pressure, of UA prep had eased slightly. Physical combat, pure and simple, was something he understood completely.
"You're getting faster," Hana observed, brushing dust off her clothes. Her spiders returned to her, crawling back into her hair. "That rush at the beginning I barely saw it."
"Tiger taught me about explosive bursts," Izuku said. "Short distance, maximum speed. It's effective against opponents who rely on reaction time."
"And the stalking thing?" Kaito asked from the sidelines. "That's just creepy, man. Watching you disappear into shadows like that."
"Predators hunt from ambush," Izuku said with a shrug. "Hana's web net was good would have caught most people. But tigers are patient. They wait for the perfect moment."
"Next time I'm adding more web lines," Hana said. "You found the gaps too easily."
"There are always gaps," Izuku countered. "You just have to know how to look for them."
"Alright, who's next?" Daiki called out. "Kaito, you want a piece of him?"
"Hell yeah," Kaito said, dropping from his perch and landing with a bounce. "Let's see if monkey beats cat this time."
Izuku grinned, settling back into his ready stance. His tail swished with anticipation, the predator in him satisfied but not sated.
This was what he needed. Pure, uncomplicated combat. No social dynamics. No balancing acts. Just strength, speed, skill, and instinct.
Here, in the warehouse with his pack, everything made sense.
One Month Later
One month until the UA entrance exam.
Izuku stared at the calendar on his wall, the date circled in red marker. February 26th. The day that would determine his future.
He'd been preparing for this moment since he returned from the jungle. Six months of relentless academic catch-up, physical training, and mental preparation. And now it was down to the final stretch.
His morning routine had become almost ritualistic. 5:45 AM wake-up, exactly. Shower, teeth, uniform. But now the weighted vest was maxed out at fifty pounds, ankle weights at twelve pounds each. His body had adapted to the constant resistance to the point where removing them felt like he could fly.
Breakfast with his mother had evolved too. She no longer questioned his raw meat consumption or his training obsession. Instead, she supported it making sure he had enough protein, checking his homework, quizzing him on hero law and history while he ate.
"One month," Inko said as they ate breakfast together that morning. "How do you feel?"
"Ready," Izuku said, tearing into his steak. "Nervous, but ready. My reading's at grade level now. Math is solid. Mrs. Kojima says I'm caught up enough that the written exam shouldn't be a problem."
"And the practical?"
Izuku's lips curved into a confident smile, his fangs visible. "That's the part I'm not worried about."
"Good." Inko reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I'm so proud of you, Izuku. What you've accomplished in six months... it's incredible."
"I had good teachers," Izuku said, touching the tiger's claw at his chest. "And a good mom."
They finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and Izuku gathered his things for school. His backpack felt lighter these days or maybe he'd just gotten that much stronger. Either way, the walk to Aldera had become almost meditative, a time to center himself before the day's challenges.
Izuku reached Aldera's gates at 7:45 AM exactly, his internal clock as precise as ever. The morning was cold, his breath misting in the January air, but his enhanced metabolism barely registered the temperature.
The courtyard was filled with the usual pre-class chaos students chatting, comparing notes on homework, discussing entrance exams. But there was a different energy now, one month out from the various high school exams. Tension mixed with excitement.
"Izuku!" Kaito's voice called from their usual meeting spot near the main entrance.
Izuku's pack was already there Kaito hanging from a low tree branch by his feet, Yuki perched on the building's edge, Hana leaning against the wall with spiders weaving patterns in the air around her.
"Morning," Izuku said, joining them. "Everyone ready for today?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Kaito said, flipping down to land beside him. "We've got that math test first period. I studied, but my brain feels like mush."
"You'll do fine," Yuki assured him, gliding down to join them. "We've been over those equations a hundred times."
"Easy for you to say. You're good at math."
"Only because I practice," Yuki countered.
The warning bell rang, and students began filtering into the building. Izuku and his pack joined the flow, navigating the crowded hallways with practiced ease. Other students moved aside automatically whether out of wariness of their animal features or simple recognition of their presence, Izuku wasn't sure.
Probably both.
First Period - Math
Ms. Tanaka's classroom was already filling up when Izuku arrived. He took his usual seat, pulling out his pencil and calculator. Bakugo walked in moments later, dropping into the seat next to him without a word.
They'd developed this routine over the past few months arriving separately, sitting together in classes they shared, engaging in silent competition over who could solve problems faster.
"Morning," Izuku said.
"Tch," Bakugo responded, which was as close to a greeting as he usually got before noon.
Ms. Tanaka entered, carrying a stack of test papers. "Alright, everyone. Today's exam covers everything we've studied this semester quadratic equations, functions, graphing. You have the full period. No talking, no phones, calculators allowed."
She began distributing the tests, and Izuku felt that familiar flutter of nerves. Not fear he knew this material. But the weight of it. Six months ago, he couldn't have done basic algebra. Now he was taking the same test as students who'd been learning continuously for years.
The test landed on his desk. He picked up his pencil, took a breath, and began.
The first few problems were straightforward solving for x, graphing linear equations. His hand moved with increasing confidence, the numbers and symbols making sense in ways they never had before. Mrs. Kojima's patience, Ms. Tanaka's tutoring, his own relentless studying it had all built to this.
Beside him, Bakugo was working with aggressive efficiency, his pencil scratching across the paper. Izuku caught himself glancing over, then forced his attention back to his own work. This wasn't a competition with Bakugo. This was proving to himself that he could do this.
Problem twelve was harder a complex word problem involving projectile motion and quadratic equations. Izuku read it twice, broke it down into components, set up his equation carefully. His enhanced focus helped here, blocking out classroom distractions, zeroing in on the problem like tracking prey.
He solved it. Moved to the next one.
By the time Ms. Tanaka called time, Izuku had completed every problem. He might not have gotten them all right, but he'd answered every single question with genuine understanding, not guesswork.
"Pencils down, pass your tests forward."
As papers were collected, Bakugo leaned over slightly. "How'd you do?"
"Good, I think. You?"
"Perfect score, obviously."
Izuku snorted. "Obviously."
Second Period - Hero Theory
Hero Theory was a recent addition to Aldera's curriculum, designed specifically for students planning to take hero school entrance exams. Mr. Yamada taught it, and the class was smaller only about fifteen students who'd self-selected into the hero track.
Today's topic: Quirk application in rescue scenarios.
"Alright," Mr. Yamada said, pulling up a scenario on the projector. "Apartment building, five stories, fire on the third floor. Civilians trapped on the fourth and fifth floors. You're the first hero on scene. Your Quirk is" He pointed at a random student. "Sato. What's your Quirk again?"
"Sugar Rush, sir. I eat sugar, get super strength for a few minutes."
"Okay. Sugar Rush Quirk. How do you approach this rescue?"
Sato thought for a moment. "Um. Use my strength to break through walls? Get to the trapped people faster?"
"Good start, but think bigger. What are the priorities in a burning building?"
The class discussion flowed, students offering ideas, Mr. Yamada guiding them toward proper hero thinking. Izuku found himself engaged, his hand raising several times to contribute. His survival experience gave him a different perspective reading environments, assessing structural integrity, understanding panic behavior.
"Midoriya," Mr. Yamada called on him. "Given your Quirk's enhanced senses, how would that help in this scenario?"
"I could hear people through walls," Izuku said. "Track their locations by heartbeat or breathing, even through smoke. My sense of smell could detect gas leaks or identify which rooms have the most toxic smoke. And my night vision would work in heavy smoke where normal vision fails."
"Excellent. That's exactly the kind of tactical thinking heroes need. Your Quirk isn't just about combat it's about using every advantage to save lives."
Bakugo raised his hand. "What if the building's about to collapse? Sometimes you can't save everyone. How do you choose?"
The classroom went quiet. It was a dark question, but a real one.
Mr. Yamada's expression became more serious. "That's the hardest decision a hero ever makes. Ideally, you save everyone. But if you can't..." He paused. "You save as many as possible. You prioritize children, people with mobility issues, those in the most immediate danger. And you live with the weight of those choices. That's what separates heroes from people with powers the willingness to make impossible decisions and carry that burden."
The discussion continued, but Izuku found himself thinking about the jungle. About choices he'd made there which prey to hunt, which predators to avoid, when to fight and when to run. Different context, same principle.
Survival always involved choices. Being a hero meant making those choices for others.
Third Period- Literature
Literature class had become one of Izuku's favorite periods, surprisingly. Not because the material was easy it wasn't but because it challenged him in ways combat never could. Understanding themes, analyzing characters, seeing beneath the surface of stories.
Today they were discussing a short story about sacrifice and duty. Mr. Hayashi led the discussion, and for once, even students who usually stayed quiet were participating.
"What do you think motivated the protagonist's final choice?" Mr. Hayashi asked the class.
A girl in the front raised her hand. "Love? He loved his family enough to give up his own life."
"Good. Anyone else?"
Izuku raised his hand. "Duty. He felt responsible for protecting them. It wasn't just love it was obligation. He was the only one who could make that sacrifice, so he did."
Mr. Hayashi nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Duty and love aren't always separate. Sometimes they're the same thing. When you love someone, protecting them becomes your duty." He looked around the class. "Many of you are planning to be heroes. This concept will define your careers. The duty to protect, even at personal cost."
The discussion continued, but Izuku's mind wandered to his pack, to Bakugo, to his mom. People he'd protect without hesitation. People who made duty and love inseparable.
The tiger had taught him to survive. But these people had taught him what was worth surviving for.
Lunch Period
The cafeteria was buzzing with entrance exam talk. Most of the third-year students had already decided which high schools they were applying to some aiming for regular schools, others for hero academies, though UA was universally acknowledged as nearly impossible to get into.
Izuku sat with his pack at their usual table, all of them eating and discussing their own preparations.
"I'm terrified of the written portion," Kaito admitted, stabbing at his food. "My reading's okay now, but test anxiety is real. What if I blank?"
"You won't," Yuki said confidently. "We've been studying together for months. You know this stuff."
"The practical's what I'm worried about," Hana said quietly. "I'm not a front-line fighter like you guys. What if the exam requires direct combat?"
"Then you adapt," Izuku said. "Use your webs to control the field. You don't have to fight like us you fight like you. That's what makes you dangerous."
"Says the guy who moves like a literal tiger," Kaito muttered, but he was grinning.
A tray slammed down next to Izuku.
They all looked up to see Bakugo dropping into the seat, his usual aggressive confidence radiating off him. His friends hovered nearby, clearly surprised their leader was sitting with the "animal freaks."
"Bakugo," Yuki said, her tone carefully neutral.
"Bird brain," Bakugo responded, but his voice lacked the venom it would have held three months ago. It was more automatic than genuinely hostile.
Progress, Izuku thought. Slow, grudging progress.
"One month out," Bakugo said, directing his attention to Izuku. "You ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Izuku replied. "You?"
"I'm going to crush that exam," Bakugo said with absolute certainty. "Written and practical. Then I'm going to be the top student in our class."
"Confident," Kaito observed.
"It's not confidence if it's fact," Bakugo shot back, but this time he actually looked at Kaito when he said it. Acknowledged his existence. "What about you, monkey boy? You even gonna pass?"
"Probably," Kaito said, matching Bakugo's energy. "And when I do, I'll make sure to score higher than you just to piss you off."
Izuku tensed, ready to intervene, but Bakugo just snorted. "You can try. You'll fail, but you can try."
It wasn't friendly. But it was engagement. Actual interaction instead of pretending Kaito didn't exist.
"The practical's going to be the real test," Yuki said, steering the conversation. "Nobody knows what UA's exam actually involves. Just that it's brutal."
"Robots," Bakugo said bluntly. "My old man knows someone who took the exam years ago. They use villain robots. You fight them, destroy as many as you can, get points based on how many you take down."
"Robots?" Hana's eyes widened. "How are we supposed to destroy robots?"
"With your Quirks, obviously," Bakugo said. "That's the whole point. They want to see how you fight, how you use your abilities under pressure."
"That actually makes sense," Izuku said, his mind already working through strategies. "It's a practical test of combat capability without risking actual injuries from fighting each other."
"Exactly. So you better be ready to throw down, because UA doesn't accept weaklings." Bakugo stood up, grabbing his tray. "One month, Midoriya. Don't disappoint me by failing."
"Wasn't planning on it," Izuku said.
Bakugo walked off, his friends scrambling to follow.
The table was quiet for a moment.
"Did he just... talk to us?" Kaito said. "Like, actually acknowledge that we exist and can hear words?"
"He's trying," Izuku said. "It's small, but it's something."
"He's still an asshole," Kaito said.
"Yeah," Izuku agreed. "But he's our asshole now. Kind of."
"I don't want him to be our anything," Yuki muttered, but there was less heat in her voice than there would have been months ago.
After School- Warehouse
The final month meant intensifying their training even further. The pack had agreed to meet every day after school instead of just weekends two hours of pure combat conditioning, sparring, and scenario practice.
Today's focus was speed drills.
"Alright," Daiki called out, acting as their unofficial coach. "Izuku, you're going to run the obstacle course we set up. Full speed. Everyone else watches and learns. Then you each take a turn."
The "obstacle course" was a creation of their collective effort crates stacked at various heights, web lines strung between supports, narrow beams to balance on, all designed to simulate the chaotic environment of urban hero work.
Izuku removed his weighted gear, feeling that familiar lightness wash over him. Without the seventy-four pounds of constant resistance, his body felt impossibly fast.
"Go!"
Izuku exploded into motion.
He cleared the first obstacle a series of stacked crates in two leaps, his claws finding purchase in the wood. A web line hung across his path; he rolled under it without breaking stride. Three wooden posts required precision jumping; he bounded across them in less than a second.
The course curved through the warehouse, requiring split-second decisions and constant adjustment. Izuku's predator instincts guided him, reading the environment faster than conscious thought. His tail provided balance on narrow surfaces. His night vision picked up details in shadows that would trip up normal people.
He finished the course in forty-three seconds.
"Jesus," Kaito breathed. "That was insane."
"Your turn," Daiki said. "See if you can beat it."
Kaito took fifty-one seconds respectable, using his ape-like agility to swing through parts of the course. Yuki flew over most obstacles, completing it in thirty-eight seconds but disqualifying herself for not using the intended path. Hana took a full minute, her approach more tactical than fast, using webs to create shortcuts and safe passages.
"Again," Daiki called. "This time, we add a combat element. Izuku, you're defending. Everyone else is attacking. Goal is to tag him three times. If he pins any of you, you're out."
This was closer to what UA might throw at them multiple opponents, chaotic movement, split-second decisions.
Izuku settled into a ready crouch in the center of the warehouse, his senses expanding outward. Three opponents, all attacking at once. This would be interesting.
"Go!"
Kaito came from above, swinging down on a support beam. Yuki dove from the rafters, talons extended. Hana fired web lines from the ground level, trying to bind his legs.
Izuku moved.
He spun low, avoiding Hana's webs, then exploded upward to meet Kaito's descent. They collided mid-air Izuku redirecting Kaito's momentum with a shoulder throw that sent the monkey-boy tumbling. He landed and immediately had to roll as Yuki's talons raked through where he'd been standing.
The warehouse became a blur of motion. Izuku's feline reflexes let him track all three opponents simultaneously. Kaito's strength and reach. Yuki's aerial advantage. Hana's web traps slowly building on the edges of combat.
He couldn't win by fighting them head-on they'd overwhelm him eventually. So he did what the tiger had taught him: divide and isolate.
He feinted toward Hana, drawing Yuki's protective dive, then pivoted and burst toward Kaito instead. The monkey-boy's eyes widened as Izuku closed distance faster than expected. They grappled briefly Kaito's superior strength countered by Izuku's superior speed and technique. Izuku hooked Kaito's leg, used his momentum against him, and pinned him in three seconds.
"Out!" Daiki called.
One down.
Yuki and Hana adapted, working together now. Yuki's aerial harassment kept Izuku moving while Hana built an increasingly complex web network. Izuku could feel the trap closing the available space shrinking with each passing second.
So he went up instead of across.
Using claws and enhanced leg strength, Izuku scaled a support pillar in seconds, getting above Yuki's flight ceiling. She banked hard, trying to intercept, but he was already moving leaping from pillar to rafter to hanging chain, never staying in one place long enough to be caught.
He dropped on Yuki from above, the surprise aerial attack something she didn't expect from a ground-based fighter. They fell together, but Izuku controlled the descent, landing with her pinned beneath him.
"Out!"
Just Hana left.
But Hana had been busy. The entire floor level was now covered in webs a nearly impassable maze of sticky strands. And Hana stood in the center, perfectly still, her compound eyes tracking his every movement.
"Smart," Izuku called down. "But I can wait here all day."
"So can I," Hana replied. "Stalemate."
Izuku grinned. Not a stalemate. A puzzle.
He studied the web network from above, his enhanced vision picking out the pattern. Therea gap in coverage near the eastern wall. Small, barely large enough, but enough.
He moved along the rafters, positioning himself, then dropped.
He fell through the gap, twisted mid-air, landed in the one clear spot, and lunged forward before Hana could react. His hand touched her shoulder.
"Tag. Got you."
Hana sighed. "I hate your cat reflexes."
"I know," Izuku said, helping her up. "But that web network was brilliant. In a real fight, you would've caught me."
"Maybe," Hana said. "Or maybe you're just that fast."
Daiki approached, his scaled face showing approval. "That was good. All of you. One month from now, you're going to walk into that UA exam and show them exactly what Project Primal created."
"Not weapons," Kaito said, pulling himself up from where he'd been pinned.
"Not monsters," Yuki added, landing beside them.
"Heroes," Izuku finished. "We're going to show them heroes."
They stood together, four predators who'd become more than their creators intended. One month until they proved it to the world.
One month until everything changed.
One Month Later - Exam Day
Izuku's eyes opened at 5:45 AM for what might be the most important day of his life.
He lay on his floor for a moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of what today meant. Six months of preparation. Ten years of survival. All of it leading to this single day.
His hand went to the tiger's claw at his chest. I'm ready.
He stood and made his way to the bathroom, his morning routine automatic but more deliberate today. The shower water was hotter than usual, washing away the last traces of sleep and nerves. He scrubbed carefully around his whiskers, worked shampoo through his long green hair, cleaned his tail with the same attention he gave everything else.
After drying off, he brushed his teeth with his reinforced toothbrush, careful around his fangs. His reflection in the mirror showed a boy on the edge of something huge. Cat-like slit pupils stared back at him, intense and focused.
Today, I prove I'm more than what they made me.
He dried his hair and pulled it back into his usual ponytail, securing it tightly. No loose strands to get in his eyes during the practical exam.
Back in his room, his clothes were laid out on his bed not his school uniform, not his casual clothes. Athletic wear that Inko had purchased specifically for today.
Black athletic compression shirt that fit snugly, accommodating his muscular frame and allowing full range of motion. The fabric was flexible enough to move with him but durable enough to withstand intense physical activity. Most importantly, it had been modified with a small opening at the lower back for his tail.
Dark green athletic pants reinforced at the knees and flexible at the hips. Also modified for his tail, with a secure closure that wouldn't come undone during combat.
His shoes were his usual modified athletic shoes, the ones with wide toe boxes that accommodated his clawed feet. Broken in, comfortable, reliable.
He dressed slowly, each piece feeling significant. This was his hero exam outfit. This was what he'd wear when he proved himself.
Finally, he grabbed the tiger's claw necklace and put it on. It rested against his chest, over his heart, a reminder of where he'd come from and what he'd survived.
In the kitchen, Inko was already awake, preparing what looked like enough food for three people.
"Morning, sweetie," she said, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. "I made you a big breakfast. You'll need the energy."
The table was laden with food pan-seared steak (rare, the way he liked it), scrambled eggs, rice, toast, fruit, and a protein shake on the side.
"Mom, this is too much," Izuku said, though his stomach growled appreciatively.
"Humor me," Inko said, sitting down across from him. "It's not every day my son takes the entrance exam for UA."
They ate together, Inko picking at her food while Izuku devoured his with efficient bites. His enhanced metabolism would burn through this meal quickly, especially with the stress and physical demands of the day ahead.
"How do you feel?" Inko asked.
"Ready," Izuku said between bites. "Nervous. But ready."
"Good. Nervous is good it means you care." She reached across and took his hand. "Izuku, I want you to know something. No matter what happens today, I'm proud of you. Whether you pass or fail, whether you get into UA or not, you're already a hero to me. You survived something that should have broken you, and you came back stronger. That takes more courage than any exam."
Izuku felt his throat tighten. "Thanks, Mom. That means everything."
"And remember this isn't the only path to being a hero. If UA doesn't work out, there are other schools, other ways. Don't put all your worth on one test."
"I know," Izuku said. "But I really want this. UA is the best. If I'm going to be a hero, I want to learn from the best."
"Then go show them what you're made of." Inko stood up and hugged him tight. "I'll drive you. I'm not letting you take the train on a day like this."
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car, navigating through morning traffic toward UA. Izuku sat in the passenger seat, his tail wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping his knees with nervous energy.
"You have everything?" Inko asked. "Your ID? Your admission ticket?"
"Yes, Mom. I checked three times."
"Good. Good." She glanced at him while stopped at a red light. "You look very professional in that outfit. Very heroic."
"It's just athletic wear."
"It's perfect for you," she insisted. "Black and green your colors. And you look strong. Capable. Like someone who belongs at UA."
They drove in silence for a few more minutes, the city gradually transitioning to the area where UA was located. The school was in a less dense part of the city, surrounded by training grounds and facilities.
As they turned the corner and UA came into view, Izuku's breath caught.
The school was massive a sprawling campus with modern buildings, extensive grounds, and an imposing main gate. Even from the street, Izuku could see other students arriving, some with their families, all wearing a mix of nervous excitement.
"There it is," Inko said softly. "UA High School."
She pulled into the designated drop-off area, joining a line of other cars doing the same. Parents were hugging their children, giving last-minute pep talks, taking photos.
"Do you want me to walk you to the gate?" Inko asked.
"No, that's okay," Izuku said. "My pack is meeting me at the entrance. But... thank you. For everything. For never giving up on me. For believing I could do this."
"Always, baby. Always." Inko pulled him into one more fierce hug. "Now go. Show UA what Izuku Midoriya can do."
Izuku got out of the car, adjusting his shirt and making sure his tail was secured properly. He turned back to wave at his mother, who was crying and smiling at the same time, and then he walked toward the gates of UA.
The entrance was crowded with examinees hundreds of teenagers, all hoping to earn a spot at Japan's most prestigious hero school. Izuku's enhanced hearing picked up fragments of nervous conversations, his sense of smell detecting the mixed scents of excitement and anxiety.
And there, standing near the gates, was his pack.
Kaito was easy to spot, his furred arms crossed nervously. Yuki stood beside him, her wings folded tightly against her back. Hana was slightly apart, her spiders weaving patterns in her hair.
"Izuku!" Kaito called when he spotted him, waving frantically.
Izuku jogged over, his tail swishing with relief at seeing them.
"You made it," Yuki said, her golden eyes scanning him. "Nice outfit. Very functional."
"Thanks. You guys ready for this?"
"As ready as we'll ever be," Kaito said, though his voice shook slightly. "This place is huge. There must be thousands of people here."
"Not thousands," Hana corrected quietly. "But a lot. We're all competing for limited spots."
"Then we just have to be better than the competition," Izuku said firmly. "We've trained for this. We survived ten years in hell. We can handle one exam."
"Easy for you to say," Kaito muttered. "You're not terrified of the written portion."
"Yes I am," Izuku admitted. "But I'm doing it anyway. That's what heroes do they act despite the fear."
They stood together in a small circle, four predators amid a sea of normal students. Some people were staring at them at their obvious mutations, their animal features. But others were too focused on their own nerves to care.
"We should head in," Yuki said, checking the time. "Registration starts soon."
"Together?" Hana asked.
"Together," Izuku confirmed.
The four of them walked through the gates of UA High School, side by side, their pack bond strong and certain.
Behind them, somewhere in the crowd, Katsuki Bakugo had just arrived with his parents. His red eyes tracked Izuku's green hair, a small smirk crossing his face.
Let's see what you've got, Deku.
The pack moved through UA's massive entrance hall, following the flow of students toward registration. Present Mic's voice boomed through the space, directing traffic with enthusiastic energy.
"Guess this is where we split up," Kaito said nervously. "I'm at Desk S."
"M for Midoriya," Izuku said.
"T for Takami," Yuki added.
"M as well," Hana said quietly. "Mushi."
Daiki appeared through the crowd, his scaled form imposing. "Came to see you off. This is important."
They formed a tight circle, hands coming together in the center.
"Pack," they said in unison, quiet but certain.
Then they separated, each heading to their designated desk.
Izuku registered quickly, received his testing packet, and made his way to Room 1-B on the second floor. The room was set up like a standardized testing center rows of individual desks with privacy dividers. His seat, number 24, was in the fourth row.
He sat down, appreciating that the chair accommodated his tail. A digital clock showed 8:47 AM. Thirteen minutes until the exam started.
He touched the tiger's claw at his chest. Focus. You've prepared for this.
At 8:58, the proctor Ms. Kayama entered and reviewed the guidelines. Ninety minutes. One hundred questions. Sections covering reading comprehension, mathematics, science, history, and hero law and ethics.
"The exam will test your academic knowledge as well as your understanding of hero society," Ms. Kayama explained. "This is about demonstrating the critical thinking skills necessary for a professional hero."
At 9:00 AM sharp, she gave the signal. "You may begin."
Izuku broke the seal on his test booklet and opened to the first page.
Reading Comprehension came first passages about the Hero Public Safety Commission, the history of Quirks, hero society structure. He read carefully, absorbing details, and answered with confidence. Mrs. Kojima had drilled him on these topics extensively.
Mathematics made his stomach clench initially, but as he worked through the problems, his anxiety eased. Speed and distance calculations. Percentage problems. Basic algebra. Six months ago, this would have been impossible. Now, he worked methodically through each question, double-checking his calculations.
Question 16 A hero's support item costs ¥45,000. If the hero receives a 15% discount, what is the final price?
He calculated 15% of 45,000 equals 6,750. Subtract from original: 38,250.
Answer B.
Science and Practical Applications felt more natural. Questions about Quirk biology, metabolism, rescue procedures. He knew this material intimately both from studying and from living it.
Question 35 Which best describes the relationship between a Quirk and its user's metabolism?
Answer B. Quirks typically increase metabolic rate proportional to energy output.
He knew this from experience. His enhanced abilities burned through calories at an incredible rate.
History covered hero society development, All Might's career, the establishment of hero schools. Izuku had spent hours reading about this, partly because he'd missed ten years of it, partly because heroes had always fascinated him.
Hero Law & Ethics required the most careful thought. These questions didn't have clear-cut answers they required judgment.
Question 78 A hero witnesses a minor theft while responding to a major disaster. What should the hero prioritize?
Izuku considered each option carefully. A hero's duty was saving lives, but completely ignoring the theft wasn't right either. He selected C Call for backup to handle the theft while proceeding to the disaster. It demonstrated both priority assessment and resource management.
Question 85 During a rescue, a hero must choose between saving one person with certainty or attempting to save three with significant risk of failure. The hero should:
Izuku stared at this question for a long moment. His instinct screamed to save as many as possible, but was that always right?
He selected C Assess capabilities and specific risks before deciding. A hero needed honest self-assessment. Attempting to save three and losing everyone including yourself helped no one.
The final question made him pause:
Question 100 The most important quality of a professional hero is:
He thought about All Might, about his pack, about his mother's words that morning. Physical strength and intelligence were tools. But the foundation of heroism was simpler.
Answer C. The desire to save people and make society better.
He finished with forty-five minutes remaining and spent the time carefully reviewing his answers, recalculating math problems, rereading passages to confirm his responses.
When Ms. Kayama called time, Izuku handed over his materials with steady hands.
He'd done it. Ninety minutes of academic testing at a ninth-grade level. Six months ago, he could barely read at a second-grade level. Ten years ago, he'd been a four-year-old learning to hunt rabbits to survive.
Now he was here, at UA, and he was pretty sure he'd done well.
As he filed out of the testing room with the other students, heading toward the cafeteria for the thirty-minute break, Izuku allowed himself one small moment of pride.
The tiger's claw rested against his chest, warm and reassuring.
One exam down. The practical was next.
Time to show UA what he could really do.
The cafeteria break had been brief but necessary. Izuku found his pack, confirmed everyone felt decent about the written portion, and ate a high-protein meal to fuel what was coming. Now they stood in different staging areas, separated by battle center assignments.
Izuku was in Battle Center B with about sixty other examinees. Present Mic stood on a stage at the front, his enthusiasm somehow even more amplified than before.
"WELCOME TO THE PRACTICAL EXAM, LISTENERS!" His voice boomed through the speakers. "Today you'll be facing villain robots in a mock city environment! Your goal? Rack up points by destroying these mechanical menaces!"
A holographic display appeared, showing three different robot types:
1-Point Robot: Small, fast, minimal armor
2-Point Robot: Medium size, moderate armor, ranged attacks
3-Point Robot: Large, heavily armored, multiple attack modes
"You have TEN MINUTES to score as many points as possible!" Present Mic continued. "Use your Quirks, use your strategy, use whatever it takes! But remember attacking other examinees is strictly prohibited!"
He paused dramatically. "Oh, and one more thing! There's a special zero-point robot in each battle center. It's just an obstacle, so don't waste your time on it! Focus on racking up those points!"
Izuku barely heard the last part. His focus had narrowed to a single point of clarity. Ten minutes. Mock city. Destroy robots. Score points.
This was what he'd been built for.
His pupils dilated, slitting further as predatory focus took over. His enhanced hearing picked up the hum of machinery beyond the massive doors leading into the battle center. His sense of smell detected oil, metal, electricity. His claws flexed unconsciously.
Around him, other students were stretching, psyching themselves up, discussing strategy. Izuku simply waited, coiled tension ready to explode into motion.
"READY?" Present Mic's voice rang out.
Every muscle in Izuku's body tensed. His tail stilled completely. His breathing slowed.
"GO!"
The massive doors began to open and Izuku didn't wait for them to finish.
The moment the gap was wide enough, he launched.
His enhanced legs propelled him forward in an explosive sprint, his body blurring into motion. Behind him, he heard Present Mic's delighted commentary"AND WE HAVE AN EARLY STARTER!" but it was background noise.
His vision sharpened, taking in everything. The mock city was a maze of streets and buildings, designed to simulate urban combat. And scattered throughout were the robots, their mechanical forms already beginning to activate and move.
Izuku's enhanced hearing locked onto the nearest one the whir of servos, the mechanical footsteps. His head snapped to the left. There. Three streets over.
He cut through an alley at full speed, his athletic build allowing him to navigate the tight space without slowing. His claws scraped against the pavement as he rounded corners, his tail whipping behind him for balance.
Thirty seconds into the exam, he found his first target.
The 3-Point Robot stood in the middle of an intersection, its sensors sweeping for examinees. It was massive easily twelve feet tall, heavily armored, with multiple weapon systems visible on its frame.
Izuku didn't slow down.
He accelerated, closing the distance in seconds. The robot's sensors locked onto him, its weapons systems beginning to activate
Too slow.
Izuku leaped, his powerful legs launching him thirty feet into the air. He landed on top of the robot's head with perfect precision, his claws already extending to their full two-inch length.
The robot bucked, trying to throw him off, its arms reaching up to grab him.
Izuku drove his claws into the metal plating of its head and ripped.
Steel shrieked as his claws carved through it like it was paper. He tore open a section of the robot's head, exposing the wiring and circuitry beneath. His hands moved with surgical precision slash, tear, rip cutting through critical systems.
Sparks flew. The robot's movements became jerky, uncoordinated. Its weapon systems powered down.
Izuku jumped off as the robot collapsed, already scanning for his next target.
Three points. Nine minutes, thirty seconds remaining.
His enhanced senses spread out like a radar. There four streets ahead. Multiple targets, clustered together.
He sprinted toward them, his speed eating up the distance. Other examinees were beginning to spread through the mock city now, but they were slow, cautious, still processing the situation.
Izuku was already hunting.
He rounded a corner and found them: three 1-Point Robots in a line, their smaller frames moving in patrol formation.
His claws extended further, growing from two inches to four inches razor-sharp talons that gleamed in the artificial sunlight.
The first robot turned toward him, its sensors detecting movement
Izuku's claws slashed through its torso in a single, fluid motion. Metal parted like butter. Wires sparked and snapped. The robot toppled.
The second robot raised its arm, some kind of stunning weapon charging
Izuku was already there, his enhanced speed allowing him to close the distance before it could fire. His claws carved through its arm, then its central processing unit. It collapsed.
The third robot actually managed to fire, an energy projectile screaming toward him
Izuku twisted mid-stride, the projectile missing him by inches. His tail whipped around for balance as he changed direction, closing on the robot from the side. Both hands lashed out, claws extended, tearing through its frame in an X-pattern.
It sparked and died.
One, two, three. Like dominoes falling.
Six points total. Eight minutes, forty seconds remaining.
Izuku didn't pause to celebrate. His senses were already reaching out, searching for more prey.
His nose twitched, catching the scent of hot metal and ozone. Multiple sources, all together. His enhanced hearing picked up synchronized mechanical movements four robots, moving in formation.
2-Point Robots. A group of four.
A pack. A herd.
Perfect.
Izuku changed direction, following the scent trail. His predatory instincts were in full control now, his human reasoning taking a backseat to the hunting patterns that had been drilled into him for ten years.
He found them two blocks away, moving down a wide street in a diamond formation. Each robot was armed with ranged weapons, their sensors sweeping the area.
Izuku approached from downwind, using the buildings as cover. His movements were silent despite his speed, years of stalking prey making stealth second nature.
He was ten feet away, preparing to strike, when
"ROCK BARRAGE!"
A chunk of concrete the size of a basketball flew past Izuku's head, missing him by inches. He twisted away on pure instinct, his enhanced reflexes saving him from a collision that would have knocked him unconscious.
The projectile slammed into one of the 2-Point Robots, crushing its central processing unit. The robot sparked and collapsed.
Izuku's head snapped around, his slit pupils locking onto the source: a stocky boy with a rock-manipulation Quirk, his hands already forming another projectile.
"Sorry, man!" the boy called out, grinning. "Didn't see you there! These are mine"
Something primal and dangerous flared in Izuku's chest. These were his prey. He'd tracked them, stalked them, positioned himself perfectly. And this person had almost hit him, had stolen one of his targets.
The remaining three 2-Point Robots were already turning, their sensors detecting both examinees. Their weapons charged.
Izuku moved.
He crossed the distance to the nearest robot in a blur of green, his claws extended to full length. He leaped, twisted in midair, and brought both hands down in a devastating slash that carved through the robot's torso completely. It collapsed before its weapons could fire.
The second robot fired at him he was already gone, his enhanced speed allowing him to dodge and close simultaneously. His claws found its neck joint, severing the head from the body in one clean strike.
The third robot tried to target the rock-quirk boy, perhaps calculating him as the easier threat
Izuku intercepted it, his fury translating into brutal efficiency. He didn't just disable this one he shredded it, claws ripping through armor plating, tearing through wiring, reducing it to sparking scrap in seconds.
The three robots lay in ruins around him. Eight more points. Fourteen total.
Izuku turned to face the rock-quirk boy, his breathing controlled despite the exertion. His tail lashed behind him, his claws still extended, his pupils dilated into dangerous slits.
The boy took a step back, suddenly uncertain. Up close, Izuku looked far more predator than human.
"This is your first and only warning," Izuku said, his voice low and edged with something feral. "Don't. Touch. My. Prey."
The boy's eyes widened. "Dude, I didn't"
But Izuku was already gone, a green blur disappearing down the street.
Six minutes remaining. Fourteen points on the board.
The hunt continued.
Izuku's senses spread out across the mock city like a net, cataloging every mechanical sound, every scent of hot metal and electrical current. His predatory instincts had taken full control, reducing the world to simple categories: prey, obstacles, and hunting grounds.
He found two 3-Point Robots guarding an intersection. They stood back-to-back, their sensors sweeping in overlapping patterns a defensive formation meant to prevent ambush.
It didn't matter.
Izuku scaled the side of a building with his claws, each strike finding purchase in the concrete. He reached the roof in seconds, his enhanced leg muscles coiling like springs. He measured the distance, calculated the angle, and launched.
He dropped from three stories up, claws extended, becoming a living missile. He crashed into the first robot's back with devastating force, his claws punching through its armor plating and into its core systems. Sparks exploded around him as he rode the collapsing robot to the ground.
The second robot turned, weapons charging
Izuku was already moving. He used the falling robot as a springboard, launching himself at the second one before it could acquire a target lock. His claws found the joint where its head connected to its body. One savage twist and tear the head separated, wires still sparking.
Two more 3-pointers down. Ten additional points. Twenty-four total.
Five minutes, ten seconds remaining.
He heard them before he saw them a cluster of mechanical sounds from the commercial district. His enhanced hearing picked out at least five distinct signatures, maybe more.
Izuku sprinted toward the sound, his speed leaving a green blur in his wake. He rounded a corner and found his next targets: three 2-Point Robots and two 1-Point Robots, all clustered around what looked like a plaza.
The 1-pointers were faster, their sensors detecting him first. They charged, their smaller frames allowing for quick acceleration.
Izuku didn't slow down. He met the first one head-on, his right hand's claws extended fully. A single upward slash opened it from torso to head. It sparked and tumbled past him.
The second 1-pointer tried to flank him. His tail whipped around, smashing into its sensor array and disorienting it. His left hand followed with a horizontal slash that severed its arms. A finishing strike to its central processor, and it was down.
The 2-pointers opened fire, energy projectiles and stunning rounds filling the air.
Izuku's enhanced reflexes and speed made him almost impossible to hit. He wove between projectiles, using abandoned cars and street fixtures as cover when needed. Each movement brought him closer to his targets.
He reached the first 2-pointer and leaped onto its shoulder. His claws drove into the joint connecting its weapon arm to its body. He tore the arm completely off, then drove both hands into the robot's chest cavity, ripping through its internal systems like tissue paper. It collapsed beneath him.
The second 2-pointer swiveled to fire at him point-blank range
Izuku dropped low, the shot passing over his head. He swept the robot's legs with his own, his enhanced strength toppling the massive machine. Before it could recover, his claws found its exposed underside, tearing through the lighter armor plating there. Critical systems failed. It went dark.
The third 2-pointer had backed away, trying to get distance for a clear shot. Smart programming.
Not smart enough.
Izuku closed the hundred-foot gap in under three seconds. His claws carved through the robot's weapon systems first, disarming it. Then through its leg joints, crippling it. Finally, through its central processing unit, ending it.
Seven more robots destroyed. Thirteen more points. Thirty-seven total.
Three minutes, forty-five seconds remaining.
His enhanced senses picked up more prey scattered throughout the mock city, other examinees were engaging robots, but Izuku's predatory efficiency was leagues beyond theirs. Where they struggled with one or two robots, he was tearing through them like a force of nature.
He found four 3-Point Robots in a parking structure, their massive forms barely fitting through the concrete levels. The enclosed space should have been an advantage for them less room for targets to maneuver.
For Izuku, it was a hunting ground.
He entered from the top level, silent as death despite his speed. The robots' sensors were designed for open areas, less effective in the maze of concrete pillars and parked vehicles.
The first robot never saw him coming. Izuku dropped from an overhead beam directly onto its head, his claws driving deep into its skull-equivalent. He tore through wiring and circuitry with brutal efficiency, then leaped to the second robot before the first had finished falling.
This one managed to turn toward him, its arm-mounted weapons swinging around
Izuku was faster. He ducked under the weapon arm, his claws finding the robot's torso. Four deep slashes in rapid succession, each one severing critical systems. The robot's movements became jerky, then ceased entirely.
The third and fourth robots had finally pinpointed his location, both turning to face him simultaneously. Their weapons charged, the enclosed space meaning he had nowhere to dodge
Izuku went up instead of sideways. He leaped to a concrete pillar, claws digging in for purchase, then launched himself at the third robot from above. The angle meant its weapons couldn't track him in time. He landed on its shoulder, claws already tearing through its neck joint. The head separated. The robot collapsed.
The fourth robot fired, the stunning round missing Izuku by inches as he dropped from the falling third robot. He hit the ground in a roll, came up sprinting, and closed the distance before it could fire again.
His claws extended to their maximum length four inches of razor-sharp natural weapons. He drove them into the robot's chest cavity with both hands, then ripped outward, tearing the robot open from the inside. Sparks and oil sprayed. The massive machine toppled backward, crashing into a parked car.
Four more 3-pointers destroyed. Twelve more points. Forty-nine total.
Two minutes, twenty seconds remaining.
Izuku emerged from the parking structure, his enhanced senses immediately sweeping for more targets. His athletic shirt was torn in places, his forearms covered in oil and metal dust, but he wasn't injured. His stamina was still strong, his focus absolute.
He caught the scent of more robots a mix of 2-pointers and 1-pointers, six total, clustered near what looked like a shopping district.
He found them engaged with three other examinees who were struggling. Two 2-Point Robots and three 1-Point Robots were coordinating their attacks, overwhelming the students with superior numbers and firepower.
Izuku didn't slow down to coordinate or announce himself. He simply attacked.
He hit the first 1-pointer from the side, his claws shearing through its torso in a single strike. It collapsed mid-step.
The second 1-pointer turned toward him his tail lashed out, smashing into its sensor array. Blinded, it stumbled. His claws found its back, tearing through its power core. Down.
The third 1-pointer tried to maintain distance, backing away while firing stunning rounds. Izuku closed the gap with a burst of speed that left the other examinees staring. His claws carved through the robot's arms, then its chest. It sparked and fell.
The two 2-pointers abandoned the other examinees and focused on Izuku, recognizing him as the greater threat. Smart programming.
They coordinated their fire, projectiles coming from two angles simultaneously.
Izuku's enhanced reflexes and combat instincts took over. He moved like water, flowing between the attacks, his body twisting and ducking with perfect economy of motion. He closed on the first 2-pointer, leaped, and drove his claws into its head with enough force to punch through the reinforced armor plating. He tore sideways, ripping the entire top section off.
The second 2-pointer had calculated his trajectory and fired where he would land
Izuku didn't land where expected. He kicked off the falling first robot, changing his trajectory mid-air. He came at the second robot from an unexpected angle, his claws finding the vulnerable neck joint. One savage slash, and the head went rolling. The body collapsed seconds later.
Six more robots destroyed. Nine more points. Fifty-eight total.
One minute, fifteen seconds remaining.
Izuku's enhanced hearing picked up more mechanical sounds scattered throughout the mock city, but he was running out of time. He needed to maximize points in the remaining seconds.
He found two more 3-Point Robots and one 2-Point Robot in rapid succession, tearing through them with the same brutal efficiency. His claws had become extensions of his will, every strike precise and devastating.
The 3-pointers fell to rapid combinations of slashes that targeted their critical systems power cores, processing units, joint connections. The 2-pointer went down to a single devastating strike that carved through its entire torso.
Three more destroyed. Eight more points. Sixty-six total.
Thirty seconds remaining.
Izuku heard two more 1-pointers nearby and sprinted toward them. He found them in an alley, their smaller frames making them more maneuverable in tight spaces.
Not maneuverable enough.
He took the first one out with a leaping strike from above, claws punching through its back and into its core. The second one fired at him point-blank range he twisted, the shot missing by millimeters, and his returning strike tore through the robot's chest cavity.
Two more down. Two more points. Sixty-eight total.
Ten seconds remaining.
Izuku's senses swept out one more time, searching for any remaining prey within reach
The ground shook.
It wasn't the impact of a falling robot or the explosion of a destroyed one. This was something massive, something that made the concrete beneath Izuku's feet tremble with each movement.
He turned toward the source of the vibration, his enhanced senses immediately identifying the threat.
The Zero-Point Robot had entered Battle Center B.
It was colossal easily fifty feet tall, a towering mechanical monstrosity that dwarfed every other robot in the exam. Its design was intimidating on purpose, meant to simulate a villain threat so massive that engaging it would be a waste of time and resources.
Examinees were scattering, running away from the mechanical titan as it lumbered through the mock city. Smart. Avoid the obstacle, focus on point-scoring targets.
Izuku turned away, his predatory instincts already searching for more huntable prey. Five seconds left in the exam. Maybe he could find one more
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"
The scream cut through the chaos, high-pitched and terrified. Female. Young. In pain.
Izuku's head snapped toward the source. His enhanced vision picked out the details immediately: a girl with brown hair, pinned under a massive piece of rubble that had been displaced by the Zero-Pointer's approach. Her leg was trapped, her face contorted in pain and fear.
The Zero-Pointer was heading directly toward her position, its massive feet crashing down with each step. In seconds, it would crush her without even registering her presence.
The exam timer in Izuku's head said three seconds remaining.
His predatory instincts said abandon the injured prey, save yourself.
His human heart said something else entirely.
Izuku ran.
He crossed the distance between himself and the trapped girl in a blur of speed, his enhanced muscles propelling him faster than he'd moved all exam. The Zero-Pointer's shadow was already falling over her, its massive foot rising for another earth-shaking step.
Izuku reached the rubble a concrete slab that had to weigh at least three hundred pounds and drove his hands underneath it. His enhanced strength flared, four times that of an adult male, his muscles straining as he lifted.
The concrete slab rose, inch by agonizing inch. His fangs clenched, his claws digging into the underside of the concrete for better grip. The girl scrambled backward, dragging her injured leg free.
Izuku dropped the slab and immediately turned to her. "Are you okay?"
She was crying, her face pale with shock and pain. "N-no, my leg I can't walk"
"RRRRRRRRMMMMMMMM"
The sound of the Zero-Pointer's approach vibrated through the air. Izuku looked up at the mechanical titan, now less than fifty feet away and closing. Its massive form blocked out the artificial sun, its footsteps making the ground quake.
Examinees were still fleeing, but the girl couldn't run. And Izuku wasn't about to leave her.
A slow, predatory smirk crossed his face not cruel, but absolutely feral. His pupils dilated into narrow slits. His claws extended fully. This wasn't a hunt anymore.
This was a challenge.
"This is the biggest prey I've had in a long time," Izuku said, his voice carrying an edge of something wild and dangerous. He glanced back at the girl. "You might want to cover your ears."
"W-what?" she stammered.
"Cover your ears!"
The girl clapped her hands over her ears, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.
Izuku turned to face the Zero-Pointer fully, planting his feet in a wide stance. His tail extended behind him for balance. His chest expanded as he drew in a massive breath, his enhanced lung capacity filling completely.
The Zero-Pointer took another thunderous step forward, now less than thirty feet away.
Izuku's lips pulled back, revealing his sharp fangs. Every predatory instinct, every feral ability, every ounce of the apex predator he'd been shaped into over ten years of survival all of it condensed into a single moment.
"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAR"
It wasn't human. It couldn't be human. It was the sound of a jaguar, a lion, a tiger, and a cheetah all compressed into one vocalization a primal declaration of dominance and territory that would make any prey species' instincts scream in terror.
But more than that, it was loud.
The sound exploded from Izuku's throat with physical force, visible sound waves rippling through the air like a shockwave. The concrete beneath his feet cracked from the vibration. Windows in nearby buildings shattered. The air itself seemed to compress and expand with the sonic force.
The Zero-Pointer's massive frame shook as the roar struck it. Its optical sensors cracked under the vibration. Internal systems, designed to withstand physical impact but not prepared for a sonic assault of this magnitude, began to malfunction.
Sparks erupted from joint connections. Wiring short-circuited. Processing units overloaded trying to compensate for the sensory overload.
The roar continued for five full seconds an impossibly long vocalization that no normal human throat could sustain. Izuku's enhanced lung capacity and vocal cords, shaped by his feline DNA, made it possible.
When he finally stopped, the silence that followed was deafening.
The Zero-Pointer stood frozen for one moment, its systems in complete chaos. Then, with a groan of tortured metal, it began to collapse.
Its legs buckled first, joints failing as the connections gave out. Its massive torso tilted forward, then to the side. The entire colossal machine fell like a toppled giant, crashing to the ground with an impact that shook the entire mock city.
Dust and debris exploded outward. The Zero-Pointer lay in ruins, sparks and smoke rising from its broken form.
"TIME'S UP!" Present Mic's voice boomed through the speakers. "THE PRACTICAL EXAM IS OFFICIALLY OVER!"
Izuku stood in the settling dust, his chest heaving from the exertion of the roar, his claws still extended. Behind him, the brown-haired girl slowly lowered her hands from her ears, her mouth hanging open in shock.
He turned back to her, his predatory features softening slightly. "Can you stand?"
She tried, winced, and shook her head. "My leg..."
"I'll carry you." Izuku knelt down, his tail curling to one side. "Recovery Girl will fix you up. Put your arms around my neck."
The girl hesitated for just a moment Izuku knew what he looked like right now, covered in oil and dust, his feral features on full display but then she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He lifted her easily, one arm under her knees and one supporting her back. His enhanced strength made her weight negligible.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You saved me. I'm Ochaco Uraraka."
"Izuku Midoriya," he replied, already moving toward where medical staff would be stationed. "And you're welcome."
As he walked through the mock city carrying the injured girl, other examinees stared. Some in fear, some in awe, all in shock.
Behind them, the Zero-Pointer lay in ruins, destroyed by nothing but a roar.
Sixty-eight points from villain robots. Zero points from the Zero-Pointer.
But as Izuku would soon learn, UA didn't just score based on villain points.