The afternoon sun shone through the massive glass windows of the U.A. High third-year classroom, casting long, golden rectangles across the pristine wooden desks. At the front of the room, the hero law instructor was droning on about the legalities of collateral damage and public property insurance—a topic that usually had Nejire Hado raising her hand every five minutes to ask a barrage of rapid-fire, endless questions.
But not today.
She sat near the window, her chin resting heavily in the palm of her hand, her wide, periwinkle eyes staring blankly at the clouds drifting over the Musutafu skyline. Her pen sat untouched on her notebook. Instead of absorbing hero regulations, her mind was completely anchored to the events of the previous night in the Ashitaka mountains.
Every time she blinked, she saw it again. The blinding, green flash lighting up the train station. The massive, mechanical dragon rearing its ugly head, aliens wearing human masks, knights with laser guns. And standing at the center of it all was a boy with unruly green hair and freckles. Izuku Midoriya.
She felt a strange flutter in her chest as she remembered the way he had run over to save Ryukyu. He had literally torn the sleeve off his own shirt to stop her mentor's bleeding, he had saved both her and her mentor twice in one night. He was so incredibly powerful, yet so unbelievably gentle. So timid, yet so brave.
Where was he right now? What was he doing? Mr Tatsuo had said he was taking over his grandfather's mission. A galactic war. It sounded like something out of a comic book.
"Nejire?"
A soft, concerned voice broke through her intense reverie. Nejire blinked, snapping back to reality to find her best friend, Yuyu Haya, leaning across the aisle, gently patting her shoulder. Yuyu's usually bright eyes were laced with worry.
"Are you okay?" Yuyu whispered, keeping an eye on the teacher. "You haven't asked a single question all period. You haven't even doodled. You're just... staring. Did something happen on your patrol with Ryukyu last night?"
Nejire immediately flashed her signature, brilliant, bubbly smile, perfectly masking the heavy secrets she was now sworn to keep. "Oh! I'm totally fine, Yuyu! Perfectly fine! Just... thinking really hard! Yep! My brain is just doing gymnastics today, you know? So many thoughts, bouncing around like rubber balls! Boing, boing, boing!"
Yuyu let out a small, relieved sigh, smiling back. "Alright, just making sure. You scared me for a second."
Nejire turned back to the window, the smile softening into something far more contemplative. She couldn't tell Yuyu. She couldn't tell anyone. It was Izuku's secret, and she was going to protect it with everything she had.
BRRRIIIIIIIIING!
The sharp, echo of the lunch bell shattered the quiet of the classroom. Instantly, the orderly rows of students erupted into a chaotic symphony of scraping chairs, chattering voices, and shuffling bags.
Ten minutes later, the massive, U.A. cafeteria was filled with hungry teenagers. The smell of Lunch Rush's legendary white rice and spicy curry hung thick in the air as did most of his dishes.
Nejire sat at a circular table near the center of the hall, picking absently at her teriyaki chicken. Surrounding her were the other members of the famed 'Big Three'.
"AND THEN, SIR NIGHTEYE LOOKED RIGHT AT THE VILLAINS AND BAM! HE PREDICTED THEIR EXACT ESCAPE ROUTE!" Mirio Togata boomed, his boisterous, larger-than-life voice easily carrying over the din of the cafeteria. He flexed his bicep enthusiastically, nearly knocking over his carton of milk. "It was incredible! His Foresight is super awesome!!!!! I learned so much just watching him stand there!"
Across from him, Tamaki Amajiki was hunched over his tray, his dark hair falling over his face as he desperately tried to make himself as small as possible. "Mirio... please... you're yelling again," Tamaki mumbled, pressing his forehead against the cool edge of the table. "People are staring. I can feel their eyes on me. It burns. I want to go home and hide under a blanket."
"No way, Tamaki! Eat your clams! You need the fuel!" Mirio laughed, slapping his friend heartily on the back before pausing. He looked across the table, his bright blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Hey... Nejire. Are you feeling alright?"
Yuyu, sitting next to Nejire, nodded in agreement. "I asked her the same thing in class. She's been spacing out all morning."
Tamaki slowly lifted his head, peering at her through his bangs. "Are you... sick? If you're sick, we should go to Recovery Girl. Sickness spreads. I don't want to get sick..."
Nejire blinked, snapping out of her thoughts once more. She waved her chopsticks in the air defensively. "What? No! I'm not sick! I'm just sleepy! Totally, one hundred percent, super sleepy! Ryukyu had us doing a really late patrol last night, and I guess my batteries are just running low! Beep, beep, powering down!"
Mirio chuckled loudly. "Well, make sure you rest up! A hero needs their eight hours!"
As Mirio launched into another story about his work study, Nejire let her gaze wander. Their table was right next to the section unofficially claimed by the first-year hero course students. Specifically, Class 1-A.
Through the loud overlapping chatter of the cafeteria, Nejire's ears caught a snippet of conversation from the neighboring table that made her freeze.
"...man, I'm still tripping out over Aizawa-sensei," a boy with spiky blond hair and a black lightning bolt streak—Denki Kaminari—was saying through a mouthful of hamburger. "Expelling a kid on the very first day? Just like that? The guy doesn't mess around."
"I know, right? So harsh!" Mina Ashido replied, her pink skin contrasting sharply with her U.A. uniform. "But honestly? I'm kind of confused. How did a completely quirkless guy even manage to pass the practical exam in the first place? Did he just run away the whole time?"
"It doesn't matter how he passed," Eijiro Kirishima chimed in, crossing his arms. "If he doesn't have a quirk, he'd just get himself killed out there. Aizawa-sensei was doing him a favor. It's a manly thing to accept your limits."
Suddenly, a massive, explosive slam rocked the 1-A table. Katsuki Bakugo had smashed his hands down onto the plastic surface, his red eyes blazing with an irrational, intense fury.
"Because the exams are rigged for weaklings!" Bakugo shouted, his voice dripping with venom and arrogance. "That damn Deku never had a chance in hell of rolling with the real heroes! He's a quirkless nobody! A stepping stone! He's always been a pebble in my path, and Aizawa finally kicked him to the curb where he belongs!"
Kaminari and Kirishima exchanged slightly uncomfortable glances, but Mina laughed it off nervously. "Whoa, Bakugo, chill out! You really hate that Midoriya guy, huh? What was up with his hair anyway? Looked like a messy green bush."
"And those ridiculous oversized red shoes," Kaminari snorted. "Guy looked more like a lost middle schooler than a hero student. Always mumbling to himself, too."
At the Big Three's table, Nejire had stopped breathing.
Green hair. Freckles. Red shoes. Quirkless. Expelled on the first day.
The puzzle pieces violently slammed together in her mind. The boy they were talking about... the "worthless Deku" who had been cruelly expelled from U.A. for lacking a quirk... was Izuku.
Nejire's grip on her chopsticks tightened so fiercely her knuckles turned white. The plastic utensils let out a faint, dangerous creak. The bubbly, air-headed persona she wore so naturally instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, burning protective fire.
These kids had absolutely no idea. They were sitting here, laughing at him, calling him a weakling and a pebble, while Izuku had spent his night single-handedly destroying an alien war machine and saving a Top 10 Pro Hero. He had more courage, more power, and more heroism in his pinky finger than this loudmouthed, explosive blonde had in his entire body.
Nejire wanted to march over to their table. She wanted to grab Bakugo by his collar, lift him into the air with a wave surge, and scream the truth in his face. She wanted to tell them all how incredibly, unfathomably wrong they were about Izuku Midoriya.
But she couldn't.
She took a deep breath, forcing her fingers to relax. She set the chopsticks down neatly. She couldn't blow his cover. But as she glared dagger-holes into the back of Bakugo's head, she made a silent promise. She was going to help Izuku. She was going to fight by his side, and together, they were going to prove every single one of these arrogant kids wrong.
Miles away from the bustling U.A. campus, the Midoriya apartment was perfectly quiet.
Izuku sat at his wooden desk, the afternoon sunlight streaming through his window, illuminating the hero posters on his walls.
He had a brand new, crisp notebook open on his desk. Across the front cover, written in bold, neat black marker, were the words: Alien Analysis for the Future No. 1.
Izuku had a pair of white earbuds jammed into his ears, his head bobbing rhythmically to the heavy guitar riffs of Skillet pumping from his phone. He was humming softly under his breath, completely lost in his own world.
"I'm awake, I'm alive... Now I know what I believe inside..." Izuku sang quietly, his voice carrying a newfound confidence.
His pencil flew across the blank page, rapidly sketching the massive, hulking anatomy of the alien he had seen in the forest. He drew the thick, segmented armor plates on Humungousaur's back, meticulously noting the estimated strength required to flip a speeding truck. He sketched the facial structure, adding annotations about the alien's center of gravity and hypothetical weight distribution. He was doing what he did best—analyzing, breaking down, and understanding the power at his disposal. When transforming into an alien, any alien. It was like riding a bike in a way, he knew how to use its base abilities but the other powers, those things he needed to learn on his own.
Suddenly, his bedroom door clicked open.
Izuku didn't hear it over the music. He only realized he wasn't alone when a slender finger tapped lightly on his shoulder.
Izuku jumped, yanking one earbud out as he spun around in his desk chair.
Standing in his doorway was Itsuka Kendo.
Izuku's breath caught in his throat. He had only ever seen Itsuka in her casual clothes or her martial arts gi, except for the one time at UA but he was too upset then to truly take her in. She was standing in his bedroom wearing the official, highly coveted U.A. High School uniform. The dark green blazer fit her perfectly, adorned with the gold buttons. The grey skirt, the pristine white dress shirt, and the red tie completely transformed her. With her orange hair tied up in its signature side-ponytail, she looked absolutely stunning.
Izuku took a long, sweeping moment to admire the way she looked in it. The uniform commanded respect, but she wore it with a casual, confident grace that made Izuku's heart skip a beat.
Realizing he was staring, Izuku's entire face immediately flushed a brilliant, glowing red. He scrambled to pull the other earbud out, nearly knocking his pencil cup over in the process.
"I-Itsuka!" Izuku stammered, frantically waving his hands. "Hi! Wow! You look... I mean, the uniform looks... you look great! What are you doing here?! How did you get in?!"
Itsuka laughed, a bright, melodic sound that filled the room. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms with an amused smirk. "Your mom let me in. She's incredibly sweet, by the way. I just got off the train from U.A. and came straight here."
"Oh! Right! Of course!" Izuku swallowed hard, trying to slow his racing heart. "Is everything okay? Did something happen?"
Itsuka's smirk faded, replaced by a serious, focused expression. She stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click. "Grandpa's old Plumber contacts finally got back to him. They finished decrypting the data we pulled from the Blackwood Estate mainframe last night. We have a lead, Izuku. A big one."
Izuku stood up instantly, his notebook forgotten. The residual embarrassment vanished, completely overridden by the weight of his duty. He looked down at the Omnitrix resting silently on his wrist. "Where are we headed?"
"An old, abandoned mine shaft on the deep outskirts of town," Itsuka replied, her eyes dark with anticipation. "Apparently, the Blackwood coordinates pointed straight to it. Grandpa thinks they're using it as a staging ground. He told me to come get you since your place was on the way to mine. We need to go, now."
"A mine shaft? That's so close to the city," Izuku muttered, his analytical mind already spinning. But he still remembered the priorities. "give me one second."
Izuku didn't hesitate. He rushed to his closet, throwing off his comfortable t-shirt and rapidly changing into a pair of durable black cargo pants and a dark grey undershirt. He grabbed his red sneakers, shoving his feet into them and tying the laces with practiced speed.
"Ready," Izuku declared.
He opened his bedroom door and led Itsuka down the short hallway into the living room.
Inko Midoriya was standing by the front door, practically vibrating with overwhelming, enthusiastic joy. The moment she had opened the door and seen the beautiful, polite girl in the U.A. uniform asking for her son, Inko's maternal imagination had run entirely wild. She was absolutely convinced that Izuku and Itsuka were secretly dating.
"Oh, leaving so soon, Itsuka-chan?" Inko cooed, clasping her hands together. "It was so wonderful to finally meet you! You are such a lovely, beautiful girl! Please, come over for dinner anytime! I make a wonderful katsudon!"
Itsuka blushed slightly, bowing respectfully. "Thank you so much for the hospitality, Midoriya-san. I'd love to try your katsudon sometime."
Izuku was dying of embarrassment. "Mom, please! We really have to go! We're running late for... for a study group!"
"I know, I know, my busy little bee," Inko smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling. As Izuku reached for the doorknob, Inko gently called out to him. "Izuku? Wait a moment."
Izuku turned back.
Inko walked over to the coat rack. She reached up and carefully pulled down a jacket on a wooden hanger. It wasn't one of Izuku's regular hoodies. It was a beautiful, high-quality bomber jacket. The body was a deep, vibrant forest green, with black sleeves and sharp white stripes running down the sides. It looked incredibly stylish, practical, and oddly familiar.
Inko held it out to him, her eyes suddenly swimming with unshed tears.
"I know you said you're going to a study group... and I know you've been keeping secrets lately," Inko said softly, her voice wavering with emotion. "I don't know exactly where you are going, Izuku. But I want you to know that I will always, always support you."
Izuku looked at the jacket, stunned. "Mom... what is this?"
"Your father, Hisashi... he had this custom-made for you years ago," Inko whispered, running her hand lovingly over the green fabric. "It was supposed to be a gift for the day you made it into U.A. High School. Since... since you didn't get to stay... I wasn't sure if I should give it to you. But seeing you now, so determined... I want you to have it."
Izuku felt a massive lump form in his throat. He reached out with trembling hands and took the jacket. The fabric was tough, durable, and lined with a warm fleece. It was a piece of home from his parents.
He slid his arms into the sleeves and zipped it up halfway. The green jacket fit his frame perfectly. With his dark pants, red shoes, and the glowing green Omnitrix on his wrist, the aesthetic was completely locked in.
He looked up at his mother. Inko was frozen, her hands covering her mouth, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks. Looking at Izuku standing there, tall and resolute, it was like looking at a ghost. He looked so incredibly much like Hisashi. But more than that, he carried the unmistakable, heroic aura of Grandpa Hiroshi Midoriya. Her little boy was truly all grown up.
Izuku couldn't hold back. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, burying his face in her shoulder.
"Thank you, Mom," Izuku whispered fiercely, his heart swelling with a profound joy and love. "I love you. So much."
"I love you too, my sweet boy," Inko sobbed quietly into his hair. "Please be careful. Whatever it is you're doing... come back to me."
"I promise."
Izuku pulled away, wiping a stray tear from his own eye. He looked over at Itsuka. The tomboyish martial artist was biting her lip, her own emerald eyes shining with unshed tears at the beautiful display of family love.
Izuku smirked slightly, the heavy emotion lifting just enough for a bit of banter. "Are you crying, Kendo?"
Itsuka's head snapped up. She aggressively wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, her cheeks flushing pink. She stepped forward and delivered a swift, playful punch directly to Izuku's shoulder.
"Shut up, Midoriya," she grumbled, though a massive smile broke across her face. "Let's just go save the world before I change my mind and leave you here."
With final waves to a beaming Inko, the two teenagers hurried out into the late afternoon sun, jogging down the street toward the Kendo Dojo.
When they arrived, Itsuka told Izuku to wait in the courtyard while she quickly changed out of her U.A. uniform. Izuku paced the gravel, admiring the fit of his new jacket and running through hypothetical combat scenarios in his head.
Ten minutes later, the sliding door opened.
Itsuka stepped out. She was wearing a comfortable, dark green long-sleeved sweater that complimented her eyes, a pair of crisp white sneakers, and... a short, pleated black skirt.
Izuku stopped pacing, looking her up and down in genuine confusion. "Uh... Itsuka? We're going to a potentially hostile alien environment. Why are you wearing a skirt? Isn't that going to make it really hard to fight?"
Itsuka stopped, looking at him with a deadpan expression. Then, a wicked, teasing smirk spread across her lips.
Without a word of warning, Itsuka reached down, grabbed the hem of her pleated skirt, and deliberately hiked it up her thighs.
Izuku's brain instantly short-circuited. He squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face detonating into a nuclear blush as he threw his hands up to cover his face, letting out a high-pitched, panicked squeak.
"Relax, you idiot," Itsuka laughed, dropping the skirt.
Izuku cautiously peeked through his fingers. Underneath the skirt, Itsuka was wearing a pair of tight, incredibly practical black athletic spandex shorts.
"It's a tactical skirt," Itsuka explained, crossing her arms and looking immensely proud of herself. "It gives my legs complete, unrestricted range of motion for high kicks without the fabric catching, while the shorts underneath keep everything perfectly decent. Though, seeing how fast you covered your eyes..." She leaned in close, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "...I didn't know you were such a massive pervert, Midoriya."
"I AM NOT A PERVERT!" Izuku yelled, violently waving his arms, smoke practically venting from his collar. "YOU LIFTED IT UP OUT OF NOWHERE! IT WAS A NATURAL REACTION!"
Though she will never say it out loud, seeing how flustered he was and recalling the stunned look he had back when she picked him up in her uniform. A flutter of something bloomed in her chest as she threw her head back and laughed, the sound carrying across the courtyard. Izuku couldn't help but pout, though a small smile tugged at his own lips. Despite the terrifying mission ahead of them, Itsuka always seemed to know exactly how to break his tension.
HONK! HONK!
The sharp sound of a car horn interrupted their banter.
They turned to see a sleek, bright red sedan idling at the curb. The tinted passenger window rolled down smoothly. Sitting in the driver's seat, wearing her elegant maroon and gold hero costume, was Ryukyu.
And practically hanging out of the passenger window, waving frantically with uncontainable excitement, was Nejire Hado. She was in her full hero gear—the skin-tight, pale blue bodysuit with the spiraling periwinkle gauntlets and the matching horns in her hair.
"Izuku! Itsuka! Hiiiiiiii!" Nejire squealed, her voice echoing down the street. "Get in, get in, get in! We have a road trip to go on!"
Izuku and Itsuka hurried over, pulling open the back doors and sliding onto the leather seats.
"Are we ready?" Ryukyu asked, her golden eyes meeting Izuku's in the rearview mirror. Her tone was completely professional, the Number 10 Hero entirely focused on the mission.
"Ready," Izuku nodded, his expression hardening.
Ryukyu shifted the car into drive, and the red sedan peeled away from the curb, merging into the Musutafu traffic.
The drive was tense, yet strangely comforting. Nejire chattered endlessly, telling them exaggerated, highly censored stories about her day at U.A., intentionally trying to keep the mood light. But as they drove further and further away from the bustling city center, the landscape began to change.
The towering skyscrapers gave way to dense, sprawling forests and winding, uneven mountain roads. The brilliant orange of the sunset slowly bled out of the sky, replaced by the deep, oppressive, inky blackness of the night.
By the time Ryukyu finally cut the headlights and pulled the sedan off the main road, hiding the car behind a thick grove of pine trees, a heavy silence had fallen over the group.
They stepped out of the car. The air was frigid here, completely silent except for the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves.
"The coordinates lead exactly three hundred meters north of here," Ryukyu whispered, her voice barely audible. "We proceed on foot. Stay low. Stay quiet."
The four of them moved through the dense brush like shadows. Ryukyu took the point, Nejire and Itsuka flanked the sides, and Izuku took the rear, his right hand hovering over the dial of the Omnitrix.
As they crested a small ridge, the trees broke, revealing a massive, cleared-out valley. In the center of the valley sat the rusted, dilapidated remains of an old industrial mining facility. Towering metal silos, broken conveyor belts, and a massive elevator shaft structure loomed in the dark.
"There," Itsuka whispered, pointing toward the chain-link fence surrounding the main elevator shaft.
Standing beneath a flickering yellow halogen light was a single guard. He was wearing a high-visibility yellow vest, a hard hat, and heavy work boots. He looked like an entirely normal, bored security guard on the night shift.
But as Izuku watched the man pace, he tried to read the problem like Nezu taught him. The gaurd hadn't moved for even a single second, nor did he even blink. Though he looked human, there was something off about him.
"He's a DNAlien," Izuku breathed, his eyes narrowing. "He's wearing an ID mask."
Ryukyu nodded silently. She dropped to a crouch, her golden eyes flashing in the dark. In a burst of terrifying, silent speed, the pro hero launched herself forward. She cleared the twenty-foot gap in a single bound, landing silently directly behind the guard.
Before the creature could even turn its head, Ryukyu struck. She brought the side of her hand down in a brutal, pinpoint-accurate martial arts chop directly to the nerve cluster at the base of the guard's neck.
The guard instantly crumpled to the dirt without a sound.
As Ryukyu caught the body and lowered it to the ground, the small, circular silver device attached to the guard's collar suddenly sparked. Bzzzt. The holographic projection of the human security guard violently glitched, dissolving into static.
Where a human man had been a second ago, now lay the grotesque, horrifying form of a DNAlien. The pale, sickly skin, the exposed brain-matter pulsing beneath the skull, and the hideous, mouthless face were fully exposed under the yellow light.
Nejire gasped softly, covering her mouth as she and the teenagers ran up to join Ryukyu. Seeing it up close was entirely different from seeing it in the heat of battle.
"The disguise tech is flawless," Ryukyu muttered, crushing the ID mask under the heel of her boot. "If they have hundreds of these... they could be anyone. Anywhere."
"Let's find out what they're doing down there," Izuku said, his voice cold and determined.
He walked over to the rusted control panel of the massive industrial elevator. Surprisingly, the buttons were glowing with a fresh, alien green light. Izuku pressed his finger into the 'DOWN' button.
With a horrific, groaning screech of rusted metal, the heavy iron grating of the elevator slowly descended into the earth. The four heroes stepped onto the platform, and waited for it to go down.
The descent felt like it took an eternity. The air grew colder, damper, and smelled heavily of sulfur and ozone. The only sound was the rhythmic clanking of the elevator chains.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Finally, the elevator jerked to a violent halt. The iron doors hissed open.
Izuku stepped off the platform, and his breath entirely left his lungs.
They weren't in a mine shaft.
They were standing on a high metallic gantry overlooking an underground cavern so impossibly massive it could have comfortably housed the entire U.A. High School campus.
And taking up the entirety of the cavern was a ship.
It was a colossal, terrifyingly beautiful piece of alien architecture. The Mothership was shaped like a sleek, jagged spearhead, its hull constructed from a dark, matte-black metal that seemed to absorb the scant light of the cavern. Massive thrusters, completely silent but glowing with a dull, menacing red energy, lined the rear.
But what truly terrified them wasn't the ship itself. It was what the DNAliens were doing.
Swarming like ants across the cavern floor and up massive boarding ramps leading into the ship's cargo hold were hundreds of DNAliens. They weren't wearing ID masks down here. They were pushing heavy, repulsor-lift carts, laboring intensely under the red glow of the ship's lights.
Izuku squinted, his analytical mind trying to process the scene.
The carts were filled to the brim with raw, jagged chunks of a strange, glowing metallic substance. It pulsed with a sickening, highly volatile purple energy, casting eerie shadows against the cavern walls.
"What... what is that?" Itsuka whispered, her voice trembling as she looked down at the alien armada.
"I don't know," Izuku said, his grip tightening on his new green jacket. He reached toward his wrist, his fingers brushing the faceplate of the Omnitrix. "But whatever they're building... we have to stop it tonight."