_____[POV: Third person]_____
The basket of dirty laundry swayed gently in Aiko's arms as she crossed the living room, her gaze absently drifting past the window. Her bare feet padded softly against the wooden floor, and the low hum of the TV was almost ignored… until the reporter's words caught her attention.
"—…the frequency of unidentified objects appearing in Earth's orbit has intensified. Experts are still investigating whether there is a connection between these events and the recent electromagnetic disturbances recorded worldwide—"
Aiko paused for a second, tilting her head slightly toward the TV.
"Recently there have been many reports like this, I wonder if it's all fake news. Oh well... It's a shame Ryuji went out for a walk with Rice Cake, young people are better at spotting lies..." she muttered to herself, in that typical motherly tone that mixed affection with exhaustion.
She sighed and kept walking as the news continued, now showing blurry footage of what appeared to be ships in the night skies of various cities.
Distant Galaxy, 3 Billion Light-Years Away — The Kavrin-7 System
The vastness of the cosmos was a spectacle unto itself.
A sea of stars shimmered around a spiral galaxy, with vibrant-hued planets slowly orbiting an indigo sun. Among them stood out a planet covered in emerald-green oceans and turquoise-blue forests—a true alien paradise.
On the planet's surface, humanoid insectoid creatures—resembling bipedal ants with blue exoskeletons and faceted eyes—moved between towering metallic structures of extremely advanced architecture. On a hill dotted with residences, a small ship descended slowly, landing in front of what appeared to be a high-status home.
A young insectoid rushed out the door and sprinted toward the ship, shouting excitedly:
"K'tzz-ch'rii, Zkorr! K'tzz-ch'rii!" ("Daaaaad!")
The adult insectoid spread his arms, his exoskeleton glistening under the emerald sun. He knelt, embracing his son before lifting him effortlessly.
"Tz'rrk-vek Vekti! K'thal vrii-ch'zek ith nox'tal!" ("My little Vekti! How much you've grown this cycle!")
The tender moment, however, was abruptly cut short by a sudden, sinister darkening of the sky. It wasn't a cloud, nor an eclipse. It was something… bigger.
The father clutched his son to his chest, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
And then… she appeared.
Capital of Chiv'Qorra, Planet Ullveth-Ka
The colossal ship loomed in space like a living wound in the fabric of the universe itself. Its semicircular form and metallic tendrils spread like a plague, covering over a third of the planet and plunging entire continents into a false night. It was as if reality itself had been swallowed by an intelligent shadow.
At the heart of the planet's most populous city, a structure emerged from the ship, forming a floating platform. A flickering hologram began to take shape in the sky, projected by hundreds of drones.
The image stabilized, revealing the enormous, uncomfortably close face of a woman.
"Is this thing recording?" she asked, leaning forward.
A robotic voice replied from the background:
"Yes, Empress Nuell. The translators are also functional—"
She rolled her eyes and glanced at the papers in her hand, letting out a dramatic sigh.
"Seriously, you want me to read this? 'Dear inhabitants—' Ugh, how boring!"
Nuell tore the papers and tossed them aside.
"Screw it, I'll do it my way."
She straightened her posture, her tone now dripping with charm and delicious menace.
"Greetings, inhabitants of this no-name planet. I am Nuell… future Empress of the Universe and, eventually, one with it. That's right—" she winked with a mocking smirk "—I'm gonna be the universe. Fancy, huh?"
She moved gracefully within the hologram, her crimson eyes gleaming.
"This little rock of yours was randomly chosen—or cursed, depending on how you look at it—to be marked by me. This… will kill the planet. And you." She made a dramatic gesture with her trident. "But since I'm a fair empress, I'll give you a chance to fight for this juicy little chunk you call home."
From the underside of the ship, a massive metallic platform began descending, blotting out the sky. On it stood a lone figure.
"That right there is Boros, my little warrior. My strongest. A real sweetheart, if you're into violent death and overwhelming power." Nuell grinned like someone introducing a pet—except instead of cute, it was terrifying.
Boros stepped forward to the edge of the platform, his eyes glowing like beacons. He spoke with authority:
"Bring your strongest. A champion. If you have none, then come as you are. I make no distinctions."
His single blue eye narrowed, and a faint sadistic smile curled on his lips.
"I won't hold back against anyone… not even your planet."
----------------------------------------
The air was calm on morning in Chūgoku, the sky clear and the sun's rays casting a soft glow over the building facades and the city's scorching asphalt. People hurried by, children laughed as they played in the parks, and the elderly enjoyed the gentle breeze… until everything was swallowed by the deafening sound of an explosion.
SFX: BOOM!
Glass shattered and dust flew as a bank's facade was blown apart. Four masked figures dashed out, laughing loudly, carrying bags stuffed with cash. The crowd screamed in panic. The villains leaped into a dark car parked in front of the bank—the engine roared, and within seconds, they were speeding through the city's narrow streets.
"Central unit, we have fleeing robbers from OTK Bank!" shouted the frantic voice of an officer over the radio.
Patrol cars appeared on the road, sirens wailing like hungry dogs, kicking off a chase through the city's winding streets. The villains' car swerved through intersections, scraping against poles and trash cans, knocking over everything in its path. One of them even used his Quirk to unleash a sonic scream, flipping the police cars like dominoes.
"Now this is the life, HAHAHA!" The driver looked back, laughing loudly—and didn't see the truck turning the corner. The metallic crunch of the collision echoed through the streets.
SFX: CRASH!
The villains' car tumbled down the road like a toy before skidding to a stop on its side, scraping against the asphalt and sending sparks flying. The nearby crowd rushed over, surrounding the wreckage with phones already in hand. The villains, dazed but alive, staggered out of the car.
One of them, nervous, grabbed a boy watching the scene and yanked him by the hair, pressing his bladed arm against the child's neck. The others stared in shock.
"What the hell are you doing, idiot?"
"He's our ticket out! When the hero shows up, he'll think twice!"
That's when a voice rang out, firm and slightly dramatic:
"Justice CRASH!!"
A flying bicycle shot through the air like an improvised meteor and slammed into the villain's back, sending him stumbling forward with a sharp cry. The boy broke free and ran to his mother on the other side of the street.
The crowd, now alert, widened their eyes.
"It's him..."
"The Bicycle Hero..."
"Mumen Rider!?"
Mumen Rider emerged on the road's horizon, adjusting his helmet and clenching his fists. His armor gleamed under the sun, despite being clearly cheap and scratched. The villains stared at him in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"What…? Who's this clown?" one of them asked.
"This guy threw a bike at me!!" complained another, still rubbing his sore back from the impact.
Mumen Rider stepped forward with determination. His gaze, hidden behind dark sunglasses, remained resolute.
"You... endangered civilians... That's unforgivable!" he said between gasps, clearly exhausted from pedaling so hard after the villains' car.
Without waiting for a response, he launched his Justice Punch at the largest villain. The blow struck the villain's abdomen… who smirked.
"My Quirk makes my body pliable, champ. No punch's getting through here."
Mumen Rider was thrown back by a brutal counter but managed to steady himself. Before he could recover, another villain—the one hit by the bike—was already lunging at him with blade-covered arms, ready to slice him apart. He barely dodged, finding himself surrounded.
"What're you gonna do now, hero?" one taunted.
"He seems pretty weak," another jeered.
"I heard from the crowd he's Quirkless!" the third shouted, laughing.
"Hahaha! So he's just some wannabe vigilante," the fourth sneered, blades poised. "Doesn't matter. I'll carve you up for throwing a bike at—!"
"Luna Fall!"
SFX: THOOM!
A crushing sound split the air as something white and fast as lightning descended from the sky—a giant rabbit's foot slammed straight into the blade villain's head, slamming him into the ground like a ragdoll.
The crowd gasped.
"MIRKO!!"
Mirko landed like a comet, knees flexed, letting out a grunt. Her red eyes scanned the scene.
"Making a mess in my territory? What a joke."
The villains barely had time to react before she spun mid-air with a devastating roundhouse kick.
"Luna Ring!"
She took out two at once, sending them crashing into a building. The last one tried to run but didn't get far—a backflip and a precise kick later, he was out cold.
Landing lightly, Mirko turned to Mumen Rider. The crowd cheered, but she just crossed her arms, glaring at him with mild irritation.
"Seriously? You're still at this, 'Bicycle Guy'?"
Mumen Rider, panting, weakly raised a fist.
"Justice... never... takes a day off."
"Tch," Mirko scoffed, brushing past him as civilians swarmed to take pictures of her, ignoring the hero who'd stopped a hostage situation moments ago.
The police arrived, handling the usual—handcuffs, reports, caution tape. As Mirko finished her debrief, Mumen Rider approached, removing his helmet respectfully.
"Thank you for the assist, Mirko."
She turned slowly, red eyes flashing.
"Assist? ASSIST? I did everything! You were just dead weight! If you didn't have that hero license, you'd be getting fined for playing vigilante!"
Satoru (A/N: Mumen Rider's real name) stayed silent, accepting the scolding.
"You just get in my way, you know that? Every time, I have to save your Quirkless ass! Why don't you quit? Go sell insurance! Be a teacher! Anything! Just… stay out of my district!"
Finally, he looked up from behind his glasses, voice low but firm:
"My answer's the same as always. I'll stay."
Mirko gritted her teeth, clearly furious. But after a deep breath, she leaned in and growled in his ear:
"If I catch you going after my prey again… I'll kick your ass out of my hunting grounds myself."
She walked off, leaving Satoru standing motionless in the street.
He sighed, exhausted, and walked to his bike, Justice, putting his helmet back on. But before he could mount it, he heard:
"Mr. Hero!"
The woman from earlier, with the boy who'd been taken hostage. She bowed gratefully, eyes shining.
"Thank you so much for saving my son. I'm truly grateful."
The boy bowed too, shyly.
"Thanks, Bike Man!"
Satoru smiled.
"It was nothing. Just what any hero would do."
_____[POV: Izuku Midoriya]_____
My eyes were practically begging for eye drops—dry and heavy—after an entire night buried in reports, simulations, and statistics. The Sports Festival had been a minefield—but also a veritable goldmine for data collection. Techniques, movement patterns, flaws… pure, raw intel for me.
People still milled about the business district, but I turned down a quieter alley, one of the few that still held that almost therapeutic silence. I let out a loud yawn as I unlocked the padlock on my rented warehouse, which, from the outside, looked like just another repair shop. And honestly, that was exactly the impression I wanted.
I stepped inside, shut the door behind me, and made my way to the right wall. Pressing my right palm against the concrete surface, a hologram flickered to life where I touched it, scanning my biometrics. When the light shifted from red to green, the wall slid open, revealing a hidden passage with a descending staircase. I sighed and started down, muttering to myself:
"I really should start listening to my mom… going to bed earlier doesn't sound so bad right now."
The lower floor was dark, save for a few dim floor lights guiding my steps. I stopped in front of the office and clapped my hands, forcing my voice into something more energetic:
"Wake up, kid. Daddy's home."
Beep.
"Welcome back, sir," Jarvis replied in that smooth British tone of his—the kind that made me want to smile, even when I was dead on my feet.
One by one, the lab's lights flickered on, revealing my world: workbenches, computers, control panels, half-finished parts, compact weaponry, tools, pieces of armor. A perfectly ordered chaos.
Holographic screens materialized in front of me, a flood of data arranging itself into floating windows. My hands moved swiftly, pulling up files, cross-referencing intel, aligning graphs, rescheduling timelines, and reorganizing every scattered project. So much to do. There always was.
The lights reached the back of the lab, and there she was.
My newest obsession: a roughly 8-foot-tall iron armor frame, far larger and more robust than the D.E.K.U. model, some sections still gleaming with fresh metallic paint—my most ambitious solo project yet. Quirk Buster.
I plugged the PEN drive into the console, initiating the backup of all the festival's data. Jarvis began running analyses on his own—he knew what to look for. I glanced at the armor again, feeling that familiar mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.
"It's gonna be a long day, Jarvis."
"Preparing systems. Coffee, sir?"
I smirked.
"You know me too well."
Work was calling. I couldn't stop. Not yet.
_____[POV: Third person]_____
The two days off that Aizawa had granted Class 1-A had come to an end. U.A. High buzzed back to life with the sound of hurried footsteps, laughter, and excited chatter as the students returned. The 1-A classroom was especially lively that morning, with everyone exchanging stories about what they'd been up to since the Sports Festival.
"A bunch of people came up to talk to me on the way here," Uraraka commented shyly, scratching her cheek.
"Well, duh! You got third place!" Mina replied with a wide grin.
Uraraka flustered, her cheeks turning slightly pink.
"Yeah… even my parents and I still can't really believe it happened." She clenched her fists with determination. "But next time… I'm taking first place!"
Tsuyu, as blunt as ever, muttered:
"Hard to do with Ryuji and Todoroki in the way, ribbit."
Uraraka let out an awkward chuckle and murmured a weak, "Yeah…" in agreement.
On the other side of the room, Ryuji stretched in his seat before turning to his friend, who looked more like a zombie than a student.
"Izuku… you need sleep. You're gonna collapse at this rate."
Izuku rubbed his red, heavy eyes, his voice sluggish.
"I know, I know… I'll go to bed early tonight. Promise."
Before Ryuji could say anything else, the door opened, and Aizawa walked in with his usual tired—yet still imposing—expression. He didn't even need to say "quiet"; the class automatically settled down, a testament to the respect they all had for him.
Aizawa's gaze lingered on Izuku for a brief moment, and a faint smile—rare for him—escaped his lips. Izuku blinked in confusion, unsure why his teacher was looking at him with something almost like… pride?
"I hope you all made good use of those two days off," Aizawa began, his voice firm. "You earned them after the festival. But today's Hero Informatics class will be special."
A murmur of curiosity rippled through the room, but Aizawa raised a hand to continue.
"Before that… we have a new student joining us. She'll be filling the vacancy left by Bakugo."
At the mention of his name, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The air grew heavier, conversations dying out. Izuku, in particular, lowered his gaze, guilt still fresh in his mind—even though none of it was his fault.
The door opened, and a girl stepped in with light, silent footsteps. Short, silky black hair, pointed cat ears twitching slightly, and a fluffy tail swaying behind her. Her dark eyes gleamed with mischief. Kuruhana Nemuri.
"Hello, Class 1-A! I'm Kurohana Nemuri! Hope we get along, nyan~" she said, striking a peace sign and ending with a playful meow that drew surprised looks and stifled smiles from most of the class.
Izuku, sitting behind Ryuji, muttered:
"I didn't expect them to fill Bakugo's spot so quickly…"
Ryuji shrugged, not taking his eyes off the girl.
"Was bound to happen. With her performance in the festival and… well, the circumstances."
Nemuri cheerfully walked to the empty desk—right in front of Ryuji—and as soon as she sat down, she plopped her head down as if she were right at home. The confused stares didn't faze her.
Aizawa cleared his throat, regaining everyone's attention.
"Alright. Today's lesson is special because you'll be choosing your hero names."
The class erupted in excitement.
"FOR REAL?!"
"NOW?!"
"I'VE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS!"
Nemuri flinched at the sudden outburst, lifting her head with wide eyes. Ryuji chuckled, crossing his arms.
"Welcome to Class 1-A, Nemuri. Here, your peace will be stolen every minute."
"N-Nyan?! S-so much energy…"
"As I mentioned last class," Aizawa continued, "—the offers you received will directly influence this process. Hero names help establish your identity, and even though you're only first-years, the exposure you've gotten has already put you on the radar of several agencies."
He raised his hand, and a projector displayed the list of offer rankings.
"Here are the results."
A respectful silence fell over the room as they saw the top of the list.
1st Place: Ryuji Fugimoto — 8,247 offers.
"D-Do that many agencies even exist in Japan?" Jiro whispered in disbelief.
The focus then shifted to second place—Shoto Todoroki, with 4,123 offers. Other names followed, with Uraraka and Iida also standing out.
Aizawa crossed his arms, observing their reactions.
"Don't worry if you didn't get any offers. All of you will still have work experience. I'll personally oversee it."
The room gradually settled, but glances still flickered toward Ryuji, who just sighed, resting his chin on his hand.
"And now they probably think I'm some kind of prodigy or something…" he muttered with a smirk. "Little do they know I'm just a generic blond anime protagonist lookalike with a weakness for coffee jelly."
Nemuri glanced back at him curiously.
"Coffee jelly? Nyan… that's weird…"
"...Get out."
Aizawa continued, his voice firm but calm, capturing the class's attention:
"As you already know, after facing the incident at U.S.J., you've already stepped into the real world of heroes. But witnessing a pro hero's daily life firsthand will be even more useful than any training. And that's why you'll need codenames—but choose wisely, because..."
Before he could finish, the door swung open, and as if she had rehearsed her dramatic entrance, Midnight strode into the room with a sharp click of heels and a provocative smile.
"Because if you pick a bad one..." she said, theatrically finishing Aizawa's sentence, "...it'll be a complete nightmare."
The class reacted with a mix of excitement and nervous laughter. Midnight leaned against the desk, eyeing the students with her signature teasing demeanor.
"Codenames aren't just cool nicknames. They're the image you'll present to the world, the essence that'll become a symbol of who you are as heroes," she added, crossing her arms.
Aizawa merely nodded, crouching down and pulling out his trusty sleeping bag.
"Midnight will oversee this. Use your time well. Remember: names and natures should match. Good luck." And with that, he burrowed into the bag like a worm retreating from the world.
Excitement erupted in the classroom. The students huddled in groups, tossing around ideas, scribbling on cards, and testing out combinations. Some classic names emerged, following tradition... until only three figures remained standing: Kurohana Nemuri, Izuku, and Ryuji.
Nemuri was the first to lazily stroll to the front of the class, as if each step were a battle against the existential exhaustion of being a feline teenager in a world of expectations.
"Ugh, okay... my hero name is..." She raised her card with one hand while the other covered a yawn. "Catwoman~ nyan!" She struck a pose, hands curled like paws, winking with a "W"-shaped smile.
The class burst into laughter and applause. Some even shouted "Kawaii!" from the back.
Midnight chuckled.
"Interesting choice... I would've bet on Catgirl. Why not?"
Nemuri shrugged with the same nonchalance as a cat swatting something off a table.
"I looked at you and imagined you in a cat outfit... and then—bam, inspiration. But I'm too lazy to think of another one now, so this'll do, nyan~."
Midnight let out an amused giggle, appreciating the girl's straightforward simplicity. Nemuri returned to her seat and immediately curled up in her chair like a cat by a fireplace.
Next was Izuku.
Unlike Nemuri, he walked with determination. His eyes gleamed behind dark circles—evidence of sleepless nights spent on projects and tests. He held up his card proudly, his smile almost cracking the seriousness he was trying to maintain.
"My codename is... The Armored Hero: D.E.K.U!" he declared energetically.
The class erupted in cheers. Kaminari whooped in approval, and Sero whistled.
"Dude, that name's sick! It's got that full-on tech-hero vibe!"
Izuku glanced at Ryuji, who simply smirked and gave a silent thumbs-up in support.
Midnight crossed her legs, assessing him.
"I like it. Technical, direct, and impactful. You'll have to live up to that 'Armored Hero' title, D.E.K.U."
Izuku nodded firmly.
Then, it was Ryuji's turn. He stood slowly, the room falling quiet almost out of respect. It was inevitable—the aura he carried affected everyone. His steps were steady, his presence serene. When he reached the front, his sharp blue eyes swept over the attentive faces. He raised his card, and his voice rang out, weighted with meaning.
"The Golden Guardian of Good: Sentry."
A brief silence settled over the room. Kaminari repeated it aloud, as if testing the weight of the name:
"Sentry..."
"That's a manly and imposing name!" Kirishima exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement.
"It really suits him," Izuku murmured, studying the card with curiosity, as if seeing something deeper in it.
Midnight scrutinized the name on the card.
"That's a bold name to take... You'll have to work hard to live up to its weight, Sentry," she said, finishing with a teasing lick of her lips.
"Don't worry. I'll give it my all."
Izuku smiled, recognizing in his friend's choice a greater meaning—something only those who had known him since the beginning would understand. To the others, it was a powerful name. To him, it was more than that: a symbol of a promise, of hope... and of a past too heavy for a 14-year-old with eyes that had seen forty.
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(A/N: New version of Chapter 28! I changed a few things and kept others. Yes, some of the champions created by you guys are still in because they don't mess with the plot. I'll be keeping Little_Reimy's champion, King_In_Black's Atlas, and a cosmic penguin — I forgot who made it, but it was so hilarious I just had to keep it. As for the rest, I apologize; I had to discard them either because it was too much or because I simply forgot. Oh, and Mumen Rider stays too — he's the GOAT, no question about it!)