The city was just beginning to stir, a hazy golden light creeping across the skyline. Although above the waking school, five shadows crouched in silence on a distant rooftop—clad in black, scale-lined uniforms that shimmered faintly in the morning haze.
"That's him, right?" one of them asked, adjusting the scope with a soft click.
Volt-Viper locked in through the lens, the reticle settling on a lone figure crossing the courtyard. His posture was slouched, eyes distant.
"Target Confirmed. Itami Wyvern."
He said the name flatly, emotionless, then passed the scope to another figure beside him—BlazeForge.
"That's him?" BlazeForge grunted. "Seriously? Guy walks like he's half-asleep. You sure this isn't just politics? Another pet project for the Elders?"
"No," came the curt reply.
Obsidian Fang, the squad's leader, stood tall, arms folded as his sharp gaze locked onto the boy below. His tone left no room for debate.
A voice beside him chimed in, light and teasing. "He doesn't know we're watching?"
Wraith leaned lazily against the railing, her sea-green eyes narrowing as she watched Itami get stopped by a few classmates. Mist curled around her fingers like it was alive.
"Still so unaware," Wraith mused.
"Cute, really. Like watching a cubs play around in their den. Poor boy doesn't even realize it. I could slit his throat and vanish before any of them blinked. The ruckus that'd cause..." She exhaled, clearly amused by the thought.
"That's enough," came a firmer, gentler voice from behind.
Halo, ever the calm one, took the scope from Wraith's hands as she grinned.
"Oh come on, darling. Teasing never hurt anyone."
"Don't call me 'darling.' It's creepy," Halo muttered, adjusting the lens. His voice dropped to a quieter tone. "We're not here to pass judgment, just observe. He's going to be assigned to us after this field test."
He passed the scope back to Volt-Viper, who caught a glimpse of Itami talking to his classmates. "Poor bastard has no idea what's coming."
Obsidian Fang's voice cut in, cold and deliberate. "Neither do the others."
A silence fell like fog.
Then Halo spoke, soft but firm, the only one willing to follow the thought to its bitter end.
"We know what's coming," he said. "We know what's going to hit them."
The silence grew heavy as Volt-Viper continued to watch Itami.
"And we're letting it happen. Watching from rooftops, waiting to see if the he cracks under pressure like a test subject. But the others down there? His classmates? They don't know. They're just... they're just kids, man. Innocent bystanders."
Obsidian Fang didn't look at him. His voice stayed rough. "The mission is clear. The Elders want to see what he does when shit hits the fan. We are not to interfere."
Halo shook his head slowly. "Trial by fire. That's what this is."
Another gust of wind swept over the rooftop. Silence again.
Then Volt-Viper flinched. "Either he just got lucky... or the kid spotted us."
The others stilled. Obsidian Fang's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. "Maybe there's hope for the kid after all."
The wind picked up, stirring loose strands of mist and cloth as the squad melted back from the ledge—vanishing into the shadows.
In the distance, the U.A. building stood tall and unaware.
– A few minutes ago –
The morning sun stretched lazily over U.A.'s courtyard, painting the stone path in soft gold. Most students hadn't arrived yet, leaving the grounds quiet.
His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked, hands buried in his pockets, eyes half-lidded from another night of restless thoughts.
As he neared the steps to the building, two familiar figures appeared ahead.
"Good morning, Itami!" Iida called out, raising a stiff, precise wave.Standing beside him was Momo Yaoyorozu, already dressed neatly in her uniform. She gave a polite nod, her expression unreadable but observant.
"You're here early."
Itami shrugged slightly, his voice low. "Didn't sleep much."
"I figured," Momo said after a moment, her tone calm but flat. "You look worse than yesterday."
He didn't respond right away. Instead, he glanced off to the side, letting the silence fill the space between them.
"Why are you both here early?" he asked eventually.
"We're assisting Aizawa-sensei with class rep duties," Iida answered, as animated as ever. "There's been mention of a possible shift in today's training schedule."
"Of course, he gave us no actual details," Momo added, arms loosely crossed. "But it's probably something routine."
"Routine, huh..." Itami muttered, casting a glance upward toward the rooftop, something about it pulling faintly at the edge of his senses.
"Something wrong?" Momo asked, following his gaze for a moment.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, but whatever he thought he saw was already gone. Just a ripple of shadow that disappeared too fast.
He shook his head. "No. Just spaced out."
Momo studied him for a second longer before offering a faint nod. "Well... try not to zone out too much."
"I'll keep that in mind," Itami replied.
Iida motioned toward the entrance. "Come on. We don't want to be late. Aizawa-sensei isn't known for his patience."
Momo offered one last glance toward Itami. "See you inside."
"Yeah," he said.
As they walked in, Itami lingered in the courtyard for just a moment longer, his eyes drifting back to the rooftop.
The strange pull at the back of his mind hadn't faded.
Weird... I need to get some sleep.
Most of the school day dragged on for Itami.
Lectures blurred together. Notes filled the margins of his notebook, but he couldn't remember writing any of them. His head dipped once or twice, only for him to jolt upright again—jaw tight, fighting to stay conscious.
He wasn't just tired. He was drained.
Not from lack of sleep, It was something else. An itch beneath his skin. A quiet pressure building behind his eyes. Like a storm waiting for permission.
He didn't know what kind of storm. But it was close.
Every time a teacher paused, or a chair scraped too suddenly, or someone laughed too loud, his muscles tensed. His instincts had been flaring more than usual lately, and today, they felt like barbed wire wrapped around his spine.
By the time homeroom rolled around, he was barely holding it together. The usual chatter of Class 1-A felt distant, like it was happening underwater.
Until Aizawa walked in.
And the energy in the room shifted.
"Listen up," Aizawa said, dropping a folder onto the desk at the front of the room. His tone was flat, but Itami caught the edge beneath it—clipped, a little too sharp. "Today, All Might, another faculty member, and I will be monitoring your progress."
The class lit up in chatter, students tossing out guesses.Before anyone could get too loud, Aizawa cut through the noise. "Guys. Let me finish."
The room quieted.
"We'll be preparing you for disaster relief," he continued. "From fires to floods—rescue training."
The class erupted again, this time in excited murmurs.
Itami closed his eyes, thinking to himself.
Rescue training, huh...
"We'll be heading there by bus," Aizawa added. "Get changed into your hero costumes and meet outside. No slacking."
The students rose from their seats, buzzing with curiosity and anticipation. Some looked pumped. Others nervous. Midoriya was already muttering formulas under his breath. Bakugo grinned like someone had just handed him a detonator.
When changing into his hero costume, a small box dropped from the corner of Itami's case. He picked it up and opened it—inside, a slim black watch, and a folded note.
"Try this new watch when you get the chance. It's a tracker mixed with a radio jammer. You can also use it as a two-way communicator. —Kaze"
Huh... Looks like a normal watch.
He slipped it on anyway.
Waiting outside for the bus, Itami kept his distance from the other students. His thoughts were circling again.
What do the elders want now...? I haven't done anything that would put me back on their radar... The Trials?Why was my body so tense this morning...? Did I—
His train of thought shattered when a whistle sliced through the air.
"Now, everyone!" Iida barked. "When the bus arrives, we'll form two lines in alphabetical order by last name!"
Why the whistle...? Itami winced as the bus rolled up. He waited until most of the class had boarded, then followed.
The bus rattled softly as it rolled down the road toward the USJ facility. Most of Class 1-A had settled into their seats, the stress of the day giving way to relaxed conversations.
Itami took a seat near the back beside Todoroki, neither spoke.
Itami didn't mind. The silence was welcome. Todoroki gave off the same vibe, quiet, self-contained, uninterested in small talk.
Just as the rhythm of the ride began to lull him into a light haze, Tsuyu's voice cut through the background.
"I generally say what's on my mind, Midoriya," she said. "So I'll just say it—your Quirk kind of resembles All Might's."
Midoriya jolted. "O-Oh?! R-Really?! I-I mean—what makes you think that?"
"Simple," Tsuyu replied, blinking slowly. "It's the strength. The sudden bursts of power. You both move the same when you attack."
Midoriya flailed, visibly flustered. "W-Well, I-I'm not copying him or anything!"
That's who he reminded me of... All
Itami's thoughts were cut off by Kirishima chiming in.
"All Might doesn't hurt himself when he uses his Quirk," Kirishima said with a grin.
"But that kind of strength-based power? It's awesome. You can do so much with it. Flashy, crowd-pleasing—instant fan favorite. My hardening is good when facing against other people but it's not flashy."
Midoriya's eyes widen, smiling. "Don't sell yourself short! You're definitely pro material with a quirk like that."
"Thanks, Midoriya. But..." Kirishima turned in his seat, looking toward the back of the bus—toward Bakugo, Todoroki, and Itami. "You three definitely win in the 'flashy' department."
Todoroki didn't respond, still staring out the window.
Bakugo clicked his tongue, arms crossed. "Tch. Flashy doesn't mean strongest ."
Tsuyu turned in her seat, gaze flicking toward the three. "But if we're talking raw power... you three stand out."
"And Itami especially," Mina added, eyebrow raised.
"Didn't you take down both Todoroki and Bakugo during battle training?"
Heads turned. Conversations quieted.
"Oh yeah!" Kaminari said, snapping his fingers. "We never got to see the end of the fight since most of the cameras were knocked out."
Midoriya leaned in, eyes wide. "Bakugo mentioned it once. How did you even manage to beat them?"
Bakugo shot upright. "I let my guard down, alright?!"
Todoroki spoke flatly, not looking at him. "He was strategic. Used the environment. Timed his attacks. He got the drop on us."
Bakugo whipped toward him. "Shut it, Icy Hot! I said I let my guard down!"
"Only after I knocked the wind out of you and you passed out," Itami said, staring at the seat in front of him.
Bakugo's eyes went wide with rage. Hands sparked.
"YOU WANNA GO AGAIN, LIZARD BOY?!"
Itami didn't flinch. "Still recovering from last time?"
Bakugo lunged halfway from his seat, seething.
"Keep pushing," he growled. "See what happens."
Itami finally turned to look at him, his gaze hollow and detached. "You'll pass out again. That's what'll happen."
The tension spiked. Eyes widened. A few students tried not to laugh. Others leaned forward.
Kirishima leaned back, low whistle escaping. "Oof. Brutal."
Kaminari blinked. "Is he always like this?"
"Only when people won't shut up," Itami muttered.
Even Todoroki raised an eyebrow at Itamis comment.
Bakugo's hands lit brighter, a few pops cracking out, then Aizawa's voice rang from the front of the bus, dry and absolute.
"Try it, and I'll wrap you both up like sleeping bags and hang you from the bumper."
Bakugo dropped hard into his seat. Fuming. Silent.
A few seconds passed. Everyone silent.
Mina leaned toward Jirou, whispering, "I don't think he likes us very much..."
"Or anyone," Jiro replied.
Tsuyu glanced back at Itami. "I think he just doesn't feel like talking. Doesn't mean he hates us."
"Never said I hated anyone," Itami said. "I just don't care."
The conversation between the two stopped. No one responded. A few students exchanged glances. No one pushed further.
As some try to start conversation again, the bus curved around the final bend in the road.
Outside the windows, the USJ facility came into view. A massive, gleaming dome nestled in a quiet clearing beyond the trees.
Entering the building, Itami barely registered the comments from his classmates about how massive the training dome was. Words like "Whoa!" and "Is that a shipwreck zone?" echoed around him, but he didn't bother to look.
His attention was on the slim device strapped beneath his sleeve.
He tapped the side of Kaze's watch, cycling through its interface until the map function appeared. A digital overlay blinked to life, showing a layout of the USJ and a blinking dot—his exact location.
"Huh. Neat," he muttered.
But within seconds, the map began to glitch. His location jumped erratically across the screen, blinking in and out like static. Then it froze. Blank.
What the hell...?
He tapped the side again. Nothing. Just static.
Maybe it's a bug. I'll let Kaze know once I'm back.
He started to pocket it but the lights overhead flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
His skin prickled. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong.
He scanned the room. His classmates still hadn't noticed anything wrong, just chattering with awe. But their voices were starting to falter. Excitement slowly turned into confusion.
Itami turned toward the lower level but the ringing hit. That piercing shriek, ringing throughout his mind.
No... not now...
He winced, squeezing his eyes shut. The pressure built fast, blinding and hot.
When he opened them, everything had turned red.
The air warped. The floor pulsed. Time didn't slow—it stopped.
And then the words came again. Etched across his vision like they were burned into his retina.
REQUIEM.
ALPHA.
DELTA.
SUBJECT.
No... why now?!
His breath caught in his throat. Shadows swirled and twisted in the center of the dome—tearing open into portals like slashes through space itself.
The ringing peaked.
He clenched his fists, digging in—fighting to hold himself together.
Then—
"Stay together and don't move!"
Aizawa's voice tore through the haze like a lifeline.
"Thirteen protect the students and contact the school!"
The sound stopped. The red vanished. Time snapped back into motion.
Itami stumbled. His knees buckled for a split second, but he caught himself, steadying with shallow breath.
Down below, the portals widened.
Black mist bled from the rift, coiling like it was alive. Then came the first shapes—villains, in waves.But only one made the air go still.
A creature. Muscles stacked on muscle, grotesque and pulsing. Its brain exposed, the tissue twitching beneath stretched skin and tangled veins.
Itami's chest tightened.
There was something about it.
The shape. The mass.
The way the air seemed to bend around it.
Familiar. Too familiar.
Like something he'd seen in a distant memory buried so deep in his mind he couldn't put the pieces together.
His eyes shifted toward the portal still flickering behind it.
The portal he recognized instantly. He knew that shape. That ripple. That eerie fluid motion. The same one that opened and destroyed everything he cared about.
His hands clenched at his sides, his heart pounding.
The ringing was gone, but the unease lingered like static.
Across the platform, Aizawa moved—a blur of motion.
He dropped from the ledge, scarf snapping into a coil mid-air.
Thirteen moved next, stepping in front of the class.
"Everyone—back! Stay behind me!" Her voice was steady, controlled. But tight.
Itami didn't move.
His legs were shaking.
Fear gnawed at him, crawling up his spine like a sickness.
Why can't I move?!... It's just like before...