MHA Rewrite: Plus Ultra

Morning. City street. A perimeter has formed. Civilians held back. Phones raised. No one stepping forward. Because in the center— A towering villain grips a father and two children in one arm. Too tight. The father's breath hitches. The children tremble, barely able to cry. The villain raises his free hand. Middle finger. "See this lucky little family?!" he shouts. He gives them a small shake. The father chokes. "Come any closer and I'll snap their necks, turds! Got that, turds?!" Mt. Lady steadies herself, one arm clutched tight against her side. "Serial robber and murderer... Habit Headgear." Her eyes narrow. Blood stains her costume. On the ground— Kamui Woods lies half-propped, legs still raised awkwardly from the impact. He exhales sharply. "Not only strong... but a quick strategist. Blast..." His vines twitch—but don't move. The villain grins. "Yeah, that's right," he mutters. "Use your heads." He leans forward slightly, tightening his grip just enough— The father gasps. The children whimper. "Or I'll use theirs." He raises the middle finger higher. "Turds." The father struggles in the villain's grip. "Please! At least let my daughters go!" Habit Headgear scoffs. "That's not how hostages work, turd!" Beside Kamui Woods, a third hero raises his arm cannon and fires. A blast tears through the air— Habit Headgear's eyes widen. "Woah!" He moves instantly. Not panic—precision. He sidesteps. Then again. Clean, practiced footwork as each shot narrowly misses him, tearing into the street behind. "Damn! This villain can really move!" the arm cannon hero shouts. Habit Headgear grins, still weaving between shots. "Thanks! I've been taking Zumba classes!" Behind Habit Headgear— A blur. A streak of motion tearing down the street at impossible speed. Habit Headgear hasn't noticed. "And now! Time to make my escape!" A step— "Fear not, good family." Too late. All Might's hand comes down— SMACK. The back of Habit Headgear's head snaps forward. His entire body folds violently, legs lifting off the ground as the impact drives him down. In the same motion— The family is gone. Scooped cleanly into All Might's arm. Safe. All Might straightens. A suit, crisp and unassuming, stretched over a frame that is anything but. "Why, you ask?" He adjusts his grip slightly, ensuring the family is secure. "Because I'm on my morning commute!" For a split second— Silence. Then— The crowd erupts. "Yeahhhh! All Might!!!" Phones rise higher. Cheers echo down the street. Nearby— Mt. Lady's smile twitches. "We appreciate the help, but...—" On the ground— Kamui Woods' legs are still in the air. "...He'll put us out of business..." Two policemen snap to attention, saluting. "Thank you, sir! We've had our hands full with this one!" All Might returns the salute, smiling as always. "Just happy to help! I mustn't be late now. Farewell—!" A distant scream cuts through the street. "Kyaaah! A hit and run!" All Might pauses. Just a fraction. Then— He crouches. And launches. The ground cracks as he rockets into the sky, the people applauding. Now distant, wind rushes past him. His smile remains. Smaller now. ...Shit. My speed's dropped. I've been weakening ever since I gave the kid my powers. And because I pushed myself with that Sludge bastard, my maximum duration has been shortened... A brief pause. Thanks a lot, kid. —— Izuku sneezes as he walks towards school. "Oh! You okay?" Uraraka steps closer. "Yeah... Just chilly today..." He rubs his nose, breath faintly visible in the morning air as he adjusts his bag and keeps moving. ... Scene cuts to midday. 1-A Classroom. Aizawa stands at the front. "Okay. For today's hero training... All Might, myself, and one other will be supervising." Izuku's thoughts flicker. Ah... finally. We haven't seen Toshinori-san for a while... Sero raises his hand. "'This time'? Does that mean it's a special class?" Kaminari leans forward. "Yeah, what are we doing, Teach?" Aizawa answers without inflection. "Preparing you for disaster relief. Fires. Floods—" Izuku leans over his desk, eyes lighting up. "Rescue training!" Aizawa's gaze shifts. "Shut it, Midoriya." Izuku freezes. "Eh?" Aizawa's eyes narrow slightly. "You're on restriction. You are not allowed to act on the field." Silence. "You will coordinate. Nothing more." Kirishima scoffs. "Makes sense! Just make sure he isn't on my team, Sensei!" Uraraka frowns. "Isn't that unfair, Aizawa-sensei?" Mina giggles. "Now Midoriya-kun can't break any bones!" Kaminari laughs. "Yeah! Unless he orders it—ow!" Jiro smacks the back of his head. "Shut it." A few chuckles ripple through the class. Izuku sits there, shoulders slightly slumped, face exaggeratedly dreadful.  I somehow became the butt of the joke of a class again... Izuku suddenly perks up. But wait— Doesn't this mean things are... kind of smoothed over with the class? And this restriction— Isn't it actually an opportunity to test my leadership and interpersonal skills? Aizawa-sensei did say my limit was small... So he's allowing me to use this training exercise to— "Sensei?" Mina tilts her head, grinning. "You've made him muttering again..." Aizawa sighs. He presses a button on a remote. The classroom wall slides open, revealing rows of square lockers—each labeled with a number. "It's up to each of you whether you want to wear your costumes," he says flatly. "Some are ill-suited for this kind of activity." His eyes narrow. "Consider redesigning." Another beat. "This training site is remote. We'll be going by bus." He turns slightly. "That's all." Silence. A beat— Then the class erupts. "SCHOOL TRIP!!!" ... Outside U.A., heading toward the bus. Izuku walks beside Uraraka. Uraraka is in her hero costume. Izuku wears the school's gym gear—paired with his gloves, tactical belt, shoes, and arm guards. Uraraka tilts her head. "Hm? You wore your gym clothes? Where's your costume?" Izuku chuckles sheepishly. "It didn't survive battle training... So while the school's support company is repairing it, I'll be wearing this." He gestures lightly to himself. "Plus, I got one of these!" He points at the mouth guard resting around his throat. "I keep getting punched in the mouth for some reason..." Behind him— Iida trails a few steps back. Hesitant. Awkward. He adjusts his glasses. "M-Midoriya... I think it is—" Mina slips between them, grinning. "Hey, this outfit kinda rocks!" Uraraka looks slightly surprised at Mina's sudden entrance. Mina tugs lightly at Izuku's sleeve. "Very tactical. Very mysterious." Uraraka watches. Just for a second. "...It does suit you," she adds. Her eyes drift away. Izuku chuckles. "Mysterious? That wasn't the vibe I was going for, Alien Queen..." Mina giggles. "Too late. You've got the whole 'quiet strategist' thing going on now." She leans in slightly, smirking. "Kinda cool, actually." Izuku chuckles, scratching his head. Uraraka pouts. ...She's still here. The thought slips in— And she immediately pushes it down. Iida clears his throat. "Class 1-A, line up according to your ID numbers. Fill the bus seats in an orderly fashion." Kaminari leans back, hands behind his head. "Oh, Exit Sign Iida's going full throttle..." They board the bus. Seats line both sides, facing each other. Students hesitate. A beat— Then start sitting wherever. Iida steps inside. He stops. A brief pause. His glasses catch the light. "...This seating arrangement..." Silence. He adjusts his glasses. "...is inefficient." ... The bus has been in motion for a while. Izuku sits between Uraraka and Asui. Next to Asui—Kirishima. In front of them, Mina sits with one leg crossed over the other. She's smirking. At Uraraka. Uraraka is leaning forward slightly, arms straight on her lap. Her gaze locks onto Mina's. ...Why is she ticking me off...?! Izuku's murmuring under his breath. "...If I'm paired with—no, that wouldn't work if there's water involved—then I'd need to—" Asui speaks, staring straight ahead. "I generally say what's on my mind, Midoriya." Izuku stops. "Sorry? Did you call me, Asui-san?" "Call me Tsuyu." Uraraka's jaw drops. First name basis already?! A beat. Tsuyu turns her head to him. "Your Quirk resembles All Might's." Izuku freezes. Just for a moment. Then— He smiles widely. "Really...? Oh, that's the nicest compliment anyone's given me, Tsuyu!" He scratches the back of his head, laughing lightly. "I've always wished for a Quirk like All Might's... Maybe I'll end up being the next Symbol of Peace!" Kirishima scoffs. "Yeah. As if." He points an accusatory finger at him. "Your Quirk is meant for breaking." A beat. "Besides Ground Beta... don't think we've forgotten how you ended up in the entrance exam." His gaze hardens. "A self-destructive Quirk like that can never make it to Symbol of Peace status!" He raises his arm. It hardens instantly. "You need something like this—" He clenches his fist. "It's not exactly 'Symbol of Peace' level: nothing flashy. Very simple. Kinda boring." He glances at Izuku. "But reliable." Izuku doesn't argue. He leans forward slightly, eyes focused. "But your Quirk is more than enough to go pro." Kirishima frowns. "Huh?" Izuku gestures toward his arm. "High durability. Shock absorption. You can take hits others can't." A beat. "Frontline defense. Civilian shielding. Riot control..." His gaze sharpens slightly. "You're not just reliable." Another beat. "You're necessary." Kirishima pauses. A beat. Then he chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "...I guess you're right about that, Midoriya..." Aoyama, seated in front of Kirishima, leans forward in his seat, chin resting delicately on his palms. He chuckles. "Fufu... Pro, you say?" "But being a pro isn't just about punching things. It's about appeal! Glamour! Élégance!" He tilts his chin upward slightly. "My navel laser is both strong and cool... perfect for a pro." Mina, sitting beside him, smiles and places a hand on his shoulder. "As long as you don't blow up your own stomach." Aoyama freezes. His eye twitches. Kirishima grins. "You wanna talk strong and cool? That'd be Todoroki and Bakugo!" A few heads turn. Bakugo doesn't. He keeps staring out the window. Silent. Conversations continue. Izuku lets out a silent exhale. Good thing I practiced that answer... His gaze shifts to Tsuyu. ...Tsuyu is a lot more perceptive than I thought. Tsuyu notices.  She tilts her head.   "Ribbit?"  ... "We have arrived! Look sharp and exit one-by-one."  The students exit. They look at the site. "WOAAAAAH!! IS THIS UNIVERSAL STUDIOS JAPAN?!?!??" The site looks like an amusement park. Each area has a a specific disaster biome: one is flooded with a waterfall, another a slanted rocky terrain, another a dense forest, a conflagration zone...  The space hero chuckles at the students' stunned reactions. "Every disaster and accident you can imagine. I built this facility myself. I call it... the 'Unforeseen Simulation Joint'!" "So it really is USJ!!!" Uraraka jumps on the spot. "Woaaah! It's the Space Hero Thirteen!" Izuku looks at the hero.  Of course, there is no mistaking Thirteen. A bulky spacesuit. Pure white, smooth and rounded, built more for protection than mobility. The helmet reflects the surroundings like glass, obscuring everything within. No face. No expression. Only that dark void behind the visor. A rescue specialist. A hero built for containment. "I love Thirteen!" Uraraka squeals. Izuku smiles faintly. "Me too. Last I checked, incidents he handles have over a ninety percent survival rate." He's one of the real heroes. No flair, just results. Uraraka beams. "Awesome! Do you think we can get autographs? Urghhh, I should've brought my Thirteen plushie!"  Aizawa looks around. "Thirteen. Where's All Might? I thought he was meeting us here..." Thirteen tilts his head slightly. "Ah... about that, senpai..." He lowers his voice. "It seems he reached his limit during his morning commute. He's currently resting in the breakroom." —— All Might, in his gaunt form, sits slumped on a couch, phone pressed to his ear. "Sorry! I'll try to show my face near the end of the exercise! I'm really sorry about this!" —— Aizawa's eyes half-lid. "...The height of irrationality." A brief pause. Well... we should be on guard. Just in case. He exhales. "Whatever. Let's get started." Thirteen raises a hand. "Before we do—" He lifts two fingers. "I have one or two points." Another finger rises. "Or three." Another. "...Four." A beat— A few students blink. "Lots of points..." Thirteen raises a hand slightly. "As I'm sure many of you are aware, my Quirk is called 'Black Hole.' It can suck in and tear apart anything it touches." A ripple moves through the class. Izuku is already murmuring under his breath. Next to him, Uraraka nods eagerly. "And Thirteen-sensei used it to save lots of people!" Thirteen inclines his head. "Indeed..." A brief pause. "However, my power can easily kill people." Silence settles. "I've no doubt there are some among you with similar abilities." No one speaks. A few students glance—almost instinctively— At Izuku. Thirteen lowers his hand slightly. "In our super-powered society, the use of Quirks is heavily restricted and monitored." A brief pause. "It may appear stable." Another. "But we must never forget—one wrong move with an uncontrollable Quirk... and people die." Silence lingers. "During Aizawa-sensei's physical fitness test, you learned of your own hidden potential." His gaze moves across the class. "And through All Might-sensei's battle training... you experienced the danger your Quirks can pose to others." Bakugo's fist clenches. Thirteen straightens. "This class... will show you a new perspective. You will learn how to utilize your Quirks to save lives." A brief pause. "Your powers are not meant to inflict harm." Izuku's murmuring stops. He smiles. Thirteen nods. "I hope you leave here today with the understanding that you're meant to help people." He gives a flourish bow. "That is all! I thank you for listening." Uraraka flails her arms. "He's awesomeeee!" Iida claps. "A moving speech!" Aizawa leans against the rail. "Great. First—Midoriya, get over here." Ah... my restriction. "Yes, sensei!" Suddenly— Aizawa turns. Below— At the center fountain— A small black swirl opens. It twists. Warps. Expands. A hand pushes through. Pale. Dry. Then— The figure steps out. Hands cling to him. Neck. Arms. Face. Gripping. Pressing. One stretched across his features, fingers digging into his skin as if it belongs there. A quiet, broken cackle slips out. The portal behind him widens. Aizawa's voice cuts sharp. "Huddle up! Don't move!" Students freeze. "...Huh?" "Thirteen! Protect the students!" The black portal swells— Two small, glowing eyes opens within it. Watching. Shapes begin to fall through. One after another. Villains. Dozens. Among them— A massive figure lumbers forward. Exposed muscle layered over its body. Skin patchworked together, stapled crudely in places. A blank, bird-like head. Exposed brain. No expression. Breathing. Heavy. Wet. Wrong. Kaminari squints. "...Ew. You guys really downgraded on the battle bots, huh?" Aizawa pulls his goggles over his eyes. "Don't move! Those are—!" Izuku's voice cuts in— sharp. Immediate. "Villains!!" Kirishima's eyes widen. "What?!" Momo steps forward slightly. "How did they find us?!" Below— The hand-covered villain tilts his head, a cackle slipping out. "Hey, hey, future aspiring heroes!" His fingers twitch against his face. "I heard you've all been working so hard... so I thought it'd be nice to help you guys out." A grin creeps through his voice. "Brought some of my friends to 'train' you..." The portal pulses. A voice emerges from within it. "Thirteen and Eraser Head... is it?" A pause. "And where is All Might?" Aizawa clicks his tongue. "So the media incident was your doing..." The villain cackles louder, his whole body shaking. "Come now, come now... my friend here asked a question!" The laughter stops. Abrupt. "A hero shouldn't be rude..." His fingers drag against his neck, digging in slightly. Slow. His voice lowers—just a bit. "Where. Is. All Might?" Aizawa turns to his students. "Stay with Thirteen! Do not engage!" Izuku takes a step forward. "Aizawa-sensei—!" Aizawa is already moving. He vaults over the railing. Gone. Below— The hand-covered villain tilts his head. "Oh..." A quiet pause. "I wonder if some dead kids will bring him here?" A soft, broken cackle follows.