After my little mental tantrum—which, for the record, ended with me literally creating a skill to nerf myself before my quirk evolution—I finally calmed down enough to enjoy the peace and quiet of Antarctica.
The biting cold, the endless white, the silence—it all helped me think. And naturally, when my brain starts thinking, it doesn't stop.
First thing that crossed my mind was how All For One might react after I brutally ripped apart the arms of his beloved little vessel, Tomura Shigaraki.
If I were him, I'd be paranoid.
And if I had to guess his thought process, it'd go something like this:
"After hearing the details of the fight and how everything went off the rails in a split second, I can only conclude someone who's both faster and stronger interfered. Who could it be? Star and Stripe? Impossible. She's in the U.S. All Might? He's practically on his deathbed. Any recent hero, villain, or vigilante? No. None of them could've been there. Whoever it was... they're outside my calculations."
Yeah, that's probably what he's thinking right now.
I smirked at the thought. The fact that I could live in his head rent-free was satisfying.
Now, logically, the world after what I did could go in one of two directions: either villain activity would plummet, or it would explode out of control from the chaos I caused.
Personally, I was betting on the first. After all, I killed most of the real threats. What's left are the wannabes and small fry—and the governments can handle them.
Still, my little global massacre might cause the timeline to deviate from my expectations. The ripple effect was bound to be interesting.
For example, with Flect Turn dead, the creation of Trigger was off the table—or at least, the dangerous version of it. If it ever did get made, it would probably be something regulated, maybe even beneficial.
No one in their right mind would fund a drug lab producing that much chaos anymore, not after what happened.
Then there were the mercenaries. The underworld I tore through won't recover easily. With most of its core members gone, the entire villain ecosystem would destabilize.
Which means... the I-Island incident might not even happen this time.
Hosu Incident also won't probably happen as All For One has bigger things to worry about now. His resources are in shambles. His contacts—gone. His fear network—fractured.
He'll have to crawl back into the shadows, rebuild, and wait for the right moment to strike. That's what I'd do in his place.
Meanwhile, governments around the globe are scrambling. I honestly thought they'd try to cover it all up, keep it quiet, but no—they're panicking.
Public announcements, emergency meetings, investigations—they're doing everything short of lighting a flare to tell the world, "We have no idea what's going on."
It's hilarious.
Still, I wondered what would happen if some quirked investigator actually managed to trace the events back to me. Would they confront me? Try to capture me? Control me?
Heh. Good luck with that.
With my power, things would never get that bad.
Now that All For One and his cronies were probably off somewhere licking their wounds and training for whatever "future" they imagined, I decided to focus on the present—enjoying my life as a student.
And just like that, the next day dawned, ending my short-lived vacation.
When I woke up that morning, I realized something depressing.
Other than acting edgy and planning like a bored god, I hadn't really done much during my holidays.
After breakfast and bidding my parents farewell, I teleported right in front of my classroom door—casually breaking the law of "unauthorized quirk usage in public," as always. I pushed the door open and walked in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
A few early arrivals—Ida, Momo, and a couple others—looked up as I greeted them casually and took my seat. The atmosphere felt lighter today, full of post-festival chatter.
Apparently, the Japanese media was doing damage control. To distract people from the news of the mass villain deaths, they were aggressively advertising the U.A. Sports Festival instead. The result? My classmates were suddenly minor celebrities.
From the conversations around me, no one was talking about the sudden villain deaths anymore—they were all gossiping about their newfound fame.
"Somebody actually asked for my autograph!" Mina said, practically bouncing in her seat.
"I got invited for an interview," Sero added proudly.
"I got asked for a selfie by a group of girls on the train," Kaminari bragged, grinning.
"That's because you pose like a celebrity," Kirishima teased.
I couldn't help but smile. It was a chaotic kind of happiness, and honestly, it felt nice to see them like this. Still, I was glad I teleported here instead of taking the train. Dealing with crowds after this festival's hype sounded exhausting.
Then, the classroom door slid open, and our resident nap-loving homeroom teacher made his dramatic appearance.
"Morning. Take your seats," Aizawa said in his usual monotone, his tired eyes scanning us.
"Good work during the festival. You've all earned your break."
A round of cheerful thanks went around.
"However," he continued, "today we'll have a special class."
That immediately got everyone's attention. And worry.
I could practically feel the anxiety in the air. Nobody wanted another surprise pop quiz.
Aizawa waited for the murmurs to settle before saying in his usual dry tone, "Hero informatics. You'll be coming up with hero names."
Instantly, the tension shattered, replaced by excitement.
The class erupted in cheers.
He continued, "This is related to the pro-hero draft picks I mentioned before. The drafts begin in earnest in the second and third years, after students have gained experience and can be immediate assets. For them to extend offers to first-years like you shows how interested they are in your potential. These offers are often canceled if that interest dies down by graduation."
He picked up a remote and clicked the projector on.
"And here are the totals for those who got offers."
On the screen appeared a list:
"Hayato" — 6967"Todoroki" — 4123"Bakugo" — 3556"Yaoyorozu" — 1084"Tokoyami" — 360"Iida" — 301"Kaminari" — 272"Kirishima" — 68"Uraraka" — 20"Sero" — 14
A silence fell over the room.
Even I had to admit—it looked insane seeing my name sitting at the top with nearly seven thousand offers.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow at the stunned faces. "Yeah. You're seeing that right. Keeping these results in mind, whether or not anyone asked for you, you'll all be participating in internships with pros."
He adjusted his scarf, continuing calmly, "At USJ, you already faced real villains, but this will be meaningful training to see pros at work firsthand."
He paused for a moment for dramatic effect.
"Well, those hero names are still temporary. But if you're not serious about it—"
The door slid open mid-sentence, revealing Midnight in her hero costume.
She struck a confident pose, her smile sharp. "You'll have hell to pay later! Because a lot of hero names used by students become recognized by society—and they end up becoming professional hero names! So I'll be making sure your names are actually good. Eraser here can't be trusted with that kind of thing."
I chuckled quietly, remembering something.
That moment when Present Mic had named Aizawa himself.
"What? You haven't decided on a hero name yet?""I don't want to be on the news, so I don't care what name I have.""All right! Then you'll be Eraser Head!"
I could almost see Aizawa's soul leaving his body again as he sighed.
"When you give yourself a name," he said, resigned, "you get a more concrete image of what you want to be in the future. That's why they say names and natures often agree. Like 'All Might,' for example."
Soon, everyone got their placards and started brainstorming. The class filled with scratching pens, whispered debates, and bursts of laughter.
Me? I already knew what I wanted.
In neat handwriting, I wrote down "Quick Silver."
A classic. My costume was silver-themed, my speed unmatched—it fit.
Midnight clapped her hands. "Okay, let's start presenting! Who's ready?"
I stood up first, walked to the podium, and held up my placard.
"QUICK SILVER."
The name echoed through the room, and a few heads tilted, curious.
"I chose it because of my speed and my costume," I explained. "When people see me in action, all they'll notice is a silver blur. A silver shadow."
A few impressed murmurs followed, and the class clapped lightly. Midnight smirked approvingly.
"Stylish and descriptive. I like it."
After that, everyone started presenting in order. The usual canon names popped up:
"Rainy Season Hero: Froppy.""Sturdy Hero: Red Riot.""Everything Hero: Creati.""Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi.""Hearing Hero: Earphone Jack.""Deku. Shoto. Tenya. Uravity."
Then came Bakugo's turn.
He slammed his placard onto the podium, grinning wildly.
"KING EXPLOSION MURDER!"
Even the writing looked angry.
Midnight sighed, massaging her temples. "Rejected."
The argument that followed was pure chaos. He threw out names more violent than the last until I finally stepped in.
"How about Dynamight?" I said casually. "Bombshell Hero: Dynamight."
Bakugo blinked. Then he actually smiled. "Hah. That's… not bad."
Midnight pointed a finger at me. "Nice save, Quick Silver."
She turned to Bakugo. "Approved."
After that naming chaos died down, Aizawa stood again, brushing off his scarf.
"Now that everyone's decided, we'll move back to internships. They'll last one week. Those with offers—choose from your lists. Those without—choose from among forty agencies that agreed to take U.A. interns. Each specializes in different aspects of heroism. Think carefully before choosing. Submit your decisions before the weekend."
Kirishima groaned. "Two days?! That's not enough time!"
"Make your decision efficiently," Aizawa said flatly. "Dismissed."
Lunch period arrived. The room buzzed with discussions about hero agencies.
I helped Momo this time—told her to pick Ryukyu instead of Uwabami. In the original timeline, her internship with Uwabami had been a waste of potential.
But now, after her improved performance in the Festival, she actually got an offer from Ryukyu herself, one of Japan's top ten heroes.
She asked who I planned to choose, and I told her I hadn't decided yet.
After lunch, I sat down with my list and sighed.
Six thousand nine hundred sixty-seven offers. And most were from small or mid-tier heroes. I didn't even bother looking at those. My eyes went straight to the top ten.
Best Jeanist. Edgeshot. Mirko. Crust. Kamui Woods. Ryukyu.
Six of the top ten pros.
Honestly? That was more than I expected.
Even though I'm already the strongest, I haven't exactly shown it publicly. The fact that they wanted me just from my Festival performance said a lot.
As for the others—All Might can't take interns, Endeavor only cares about Shoto, Hawks isn't the mentoring type, and Wash and Yoroi Musha… well, I couldn't care less about them.
What surprised me most was Mirko's offer.
She wasn't the type to take interns. She hated babysitting, only cared about fighting strong opponents. Which reminded me—
I actually fought her once.
Back when I was still a vigilante under the name Black Flash. I'd just finished building my new suit and wanted to test it. I found her hopping across rooftops and decided she'd be a good benchmark.
It was quick. Brutal. She got serious fast, but I was faster. Before she could escalate, I knocked her out and left.
I doubt she recognized me. My vigilante persona had no link to who I am now, and even her instincts wouldn't connect the dots.
Maybe she was just curious. Maybe impressed. Or maybe she simply wanted to see if I was as strong as I looked.
Either way, she sent an offer—and honestly, I couldn't think of anyone better suited.
Not because she could teach me anything—no one could—but because she'd give me the freedom to move, train, and act on my own.
So I wrote down her name.
Mirko.
After submitting my choice to Aizawa and informing Momo, I headed home, quietly eager for the internship to begin.
Something told me it wouldn't be just another week of training.