25: Prologue to Sports Festival

The morning sun blazed over UA's campus, casting long shadows across the manicured training fields where students from all departments gathered. The air hummed with nervous energy as hundreds of hero hopefuls stretched, strategized, and sized each other up.

At the center of the eastern quadrant stood Class 1A, their movements sharper and more deliberate than the carefree students around them. Though their uniforms were pristine, the way they instinctively positioned themselves in defensive formations betrayed their recent trauma.

"Would you stop fidgeting?" Jiro hissed at Kaminari, whose fingers kept sparking uncontrollably.

"You're making me twitchy."

Kaminari rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry, just- you ever get that feeling like someone's watching you?" His eyes darted to the upper observation decks.

Nearby, Midoriya scribbled furiously in his notebook, muttering under his breath.

"If they follow last year's structure, we should expect an obstacle course first, then team battles, then one-on-one matches- but after the USJ, they might change-"

"Oi, Deku!"

Bakugo's explosion punctuated the air as he snatched the notebook away.

"Either say it out loud or shut the hell up!"

His usual fury carried an edge none of them had seen before - not just anger, but something sharper, more dangerous.

Uraraka stepped between them, her usual cheerfulness tempered with steel.

"Knock it off, Bakugo. We're all on edge, but we need to focus."

Before Bakugo could retort, a new voice cut through the tension:

"My, what an- energetic group."

Class 1A turned as one to see twenty unfamiliar students approaching - their counterparts from Class 1B.

The two classes sized each other up in wary silence. A tall girl with orange hair and sharp eyes stepped forward first, her hands resting on her hips.

"Itsuka Kendo" she introduced herself with a polite nod.

"Class 1B's representative. You must be 1A."

A blond boy with a haughty smirk pushed forward before anyone could respond.

"Oh, this is perfect! The famous attack survivors!" He spread his arms dramatically.

"Tell me, does the media attention make up for the trauma, or—"

"Monoma!" Kendo sighed, grabbing his collar and yanking him back. "Ignore him. He's- special."

Kirishima blinked at a silver-haired student whose skin gleamed like metal.

"Whoa, dude! Is that your Quirk? That's so manly!"

The metal boy grinned and slammed a fist against his chest with a metallic clang.

"Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! And hell yeah it is!"

As the two immediately launched into a loud conversation, a quiet girl with vines for hair studied the 1A students with curious eyes.

"You're. different than I expected." she murmured to no one in particular.

Jiro's earphone jack twitched toward a 1B student with a massive black belt who was silently counting push-ups.

"That guy gives me the creeps." she whispered to Yaoyorozu.

The tension was palpable - not quite hostile, but far from friendly. These weren't just classmates; they were the first real competition they'd faced since the USJ.

-Faculty Observation Deck-

High above the training grounds, the UA staff observed through one-way glass.

"Look at them!" Vlad King said proudly, arms crossed as he watched his 1B students.

"They've been waiting for this."

Aizawa's bandaged fingers tightened around his coffee cup.

"Your class may have the advantage of anonymity. Mine has actual combat experience now."

Present Mic leaned against the railing, uncharacteristically serious.

"You really think it's safe to put them out there so soon after everything?"

Before Aizawa could respond, the door hissed open.

All eyes turned as Hoshigami Enrai entered, his golden gaze sweeping across the room before settling on the students below. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

Midnight recovered first, flashing a smile.

"Well, well. If it isn't our mysterious new colleague. We were beginning to think you'd skipped the festival."

Enrai's response was measured.

"I was inspecting the perimeter."

All Might, standing at full height in his hero form, studied Enrai carefully and smiled. "Any concerns?"

For the first time, Enrai hesitated.

"The arena is secure. But security should be- increased."

Nezu's beady eyes gleamed as he sipped his tea.

"Oh? And why is that?"

Before he could receive an answer, Radahn left.

The grounds fell silent as Enrai descended the stairs to the field. Every student instinctively stepped back as he passed - all except Bakugo, who stood his ground with narrowed eyes.

"Who the hell is that?" someone whispered.

Midoriya's grip tightened on his notebook. He'd seen that walk before - the same measured, effortless grace that had cut through villains at the USJ.

From Class 1B, murmurs broke out:

"Is that a new teacher?"

"Damn, he looks intense..."

"Wait, is that the guy who—"

Kendo silenced her classmates with a look before approaching Enrai. "Excuse me, sir? Are you overseeing the festival?"

Enrai regarded her for a long moment before giving a single nod.

As he walked toward the staff podium, the classes erupted in hushed speculation.

"His eyes are freaking gold!" one student gasped.

The vine-haired girl tilted her head.

Monoma, uncharacteristically quiet, simply stared.

But eventually , the whispers stopped as the festival was about to start.

-Opening Ceremony – UA Sports Festival Stadium-

The roar of the crowd shook the stadium as fireworks exploded overhead, showering the arena in bursts of red, gold, and blue. Thousands of spectators packed the stands, their cheers reverberating through the concrete like an earthquake. Cameras flashed, drones buzzed overhead, and the energy in the air was electric—this was the event that would define the next generation of heroes.

The concrete tunnel amplified the distant roar of fifty thousand spectators into a physical vibration that travelled up through the students' shoes. Class 1A stood in nervous formation, the flickering overhead lights casting jagged shadows across their faces. The air smelled of sweat, ozone from Kaminari's nervous sparks, and the faint metallic tang of Todoroki's ice quirk reacting to his tension.

Kirishima's hardened fingers dug into his palms hard enough to leave crescent marks in his skin.

"Dude, my stomach's doing backflips." His sharp teeth ground together.

"Not very manly of me, huh?" The memory of USJ's smoky battlefield flashed behind his eyes - the way the villains had emerged from that purple warp gate like nightmares given form.

Beside him, Ashido bounced on her toes, her pink skin shimmering under the strobe lights as she forced a grin.

"This is SO much bigger than the orientation!" Her voice cracked slightly on the last syllable. She didn't mention how her palms kept sticking with acid sweat, or how every sudden cheer from the crowd made her jerk like she'd been shocked.

At the front of the group, Bakugo stood perfectly still, his crimson eyes fixed on the blinding rectangle of sunlight at the tunnel's end. His usual scowl had deepened into something more dangerous - the look he'd worn when facing down the League of Villains. The muscles in his forearms twitched with suppressed explosions, the sweat glands there working overtime.

"Quit your damn mumbling, Deku!" he suddenly snarled without turning around.

Midoriya flinched, his muttering cutting off abruptly. His fingers, wrapped tightly around his notebook, trembled slightly. The pages showed half-finished sketches of the obstacle course layout, covered in frantic notes and question marks.

"S-sorry! It's just this is our first real chance to show the world what we can do after... you know..."

The unspoken 'USJ' hung heavy in the air. Uraraka's fingers unconsciously rose to brush the fading bruise on her collarbone, hidden under her uniform. Beside her, Iida's robotic arm movements stuttered for half a second before he forcibly straightened his posture.

A sudden hush fell over the tunnel as a shadow detached itself from the walls. Hoshigami Enrai moved with eerie silence, his golden eyes catching the strobe lights like a predator's in the dark. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as he passed.

"Remember," his voice was a blade drawn slowly from its sheath, "This is not training." His gaze lingered on each of them just a heartbeat too long. "Out there, the world watches. And so do your enemies."

Before anyone could respond, Present Mic's amplified voice boomed through the tunnel:

"HEEEEEY HEROES! YOU READY TO MAKE SOME NOISE?!"

On the field, the first-year students stood in neat rows, their uniforms crisp under the bright sunlight. Class 1A stood at the front, their postures rigid—still carrying the weight of the USJ, but refusing to show weakness. Behind them, Class 1B and the other departments watched with a mix of awe and competitiveness.

Then—

"HEEEEEY, LISTENERS!"

Present Mic's voice boomed through the speakers, amplified to near-deafening levels. The crowd erupted again as his face appeared on the massive screens overhead, grinning wildly.

"Welcome to the UA Sports Festival—the biggest, baddest, most explosive event of the year! You ready to see the future of heroism?!"

The audience screamed in response.

Beside him, Aizawa sat slumped in his chair, his face half-buried in his capture scarf. 

"Get on with it," he grumbled, his deadpan voice cutting through Mic's enthusiasm like a knife.

"Aw, come on, Eraser! Don't be such a downer!" Mic laughed before clearing his throat. 

"Alright, let's kick things off with a word from the first-year representative!"

The screens flickered, zooming in on the podium at the center of the field.

A hush fell over the stadium as Bakugo stomped up the steps, his scowl deepening with every cheer from the crowd. He reached the microphone, glared at it like it had personally offended him, and then—

"I'm just gonna say this once!" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. 

"All you extras out there? You're nothing but stepping stones."

Silence.

Then—

"The hell did he just say?!"

"Who does this guy think he is?!"

"Arrogant little—!"

The crowd erupted in outrage, boos and shouts raining down from every direction. Even some of the other students turned to glare at him—especially Monoma, whose smirk had frozen into something far more venomous.

Uraraka facepalmed so hard her cheeks jiggled. "Oh my god, why him?!"

Kirishima laughed nervously while elbowing Kaminari. "Man's got no filter!"

Jiro's earphone jack twitched violently. "I can literally hear the entire stadium wanting to murder us."

Midoriya muttered rapidly under his breath, analyzing the crowd's hostility like a survival tactic.

Kendo sighed, rubbing her temples. 

"And I thought Monoma was the special one."

Tetsutetsu slammed his metal fists together, grinning.

 "Hell yeah! Now THAT'S a challenge!"

Shiozaki clutched her rosary beads, whispering a prayer for Bakugo's soul.

But Bakugo wasn't done.

"I don't care about your sob stories or your 'hard work.' At the end of today, I'll be standing at the top. So either step up—" 

His palms sparked. "—or get the hell out of my way."

For a second, no one moved.

Then—

"YEEEEAH! NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL A HERO'S SPIRIT!" Present Mic whooped, completely ignoring the furious crowd.

Aizawa sighed into his hands. "Problem child."

Meanwhile ,

On the stadium ,the teachers watched with varying degrees of amusement and exasperation.

"Well." Midnight purred, resting her chin on her hand. 

"He's certainly got presence."

Vlad King scowled. 

"That's one word for it. My students aren't going to take that lying down."

All Might, standing at the back in his muscular form, chuckled nervously. "HaHaHa, young Bakugo has always been passionate."

And then there was Enrai.

He stood apart from the others, his golden eyes fixed on nothing and everything at once. The air around him warped subtly—not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough to make the light bend unnaturally around his silhouette.

A whisper only he could hear threaded through the chaos of the crowd—the creak of trees, the sigh of distant stars, the groan of the earth itself recognizing him. The world was reaching out, not with hands, but with memory. The wind carried echoes of a name not spoken in this realm.

His fingers twitched—not reaching for a weapon, but resisting the pull of something far older.

No one noticed.

No one ever did.

"ALRIGHT, LISTENERS!" Mic's voice boomed again. "Enough talk—let's get this show on the road! Your first challenge is-"

The screens flashed, revealing a massive obstacle course stretching across the stadium.

"A RACE TO THE TOP!"

The students tensed, eyes locked on the starting line.

Bakugo smirked.

Midoriya clenched his fists.

Todoroki exhaled frost.

[All For One's Underground Sanctum – 44 Hours Before the Festival]

The air was thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of fresh blood. The dim, flickering lights of the underground facility cast long shadows across rows of bubbling vats, each containing grotesque, half-formed creatures suspended in amber fluid. The rhythmic beeping of heart monitors and the occasional wet squelch of organic matter shifting in tanks filled the silence.

At the center of it all, All For One stood motionless . No more tubes and wires connecting him to life. His mask remained expressionless, but the air around him hummed with restrained power.

Across from him, Doctor Garaki adjusted his cracked glasses, his aged hands trembling slightly as he scrolled through a holographic display of data.

"Master." he began hesitantly, 

"The preparations are nearly complete. Your condition is stable and the mask is functioning fine as well. Plus ,The transfer of your Quirk to Tomura has begun. In less than seven days, the process will be irreversible."

All For One exhaled slowly, the sound like dry leaves scraping against stone. "Good."

Garaki hesitated, his beady eyes darting to the security feeds displaying live footage of UA's Sports Festival preparations. 

"But you are not at full strength and dropping the experimental units into the stadium and at that location with so many heroes present, and him there—"

"Is precisely why we must act now."

The Doctor flinched as All For One's voice, though calm, carried an edge that made the air itself feel heavier.

"The Symbol of Peace is weak. The heroes are distracted by their little spectacle. And our dear outsider- will be too preoccupied to interfere."

A dry, rattling chuckle escaped AFO's mask.

"Let them have their festival. Let them cheer and celebrate their false sense of security. By the time they realize what is happening, it will already be too late."

Garaki led the way deeper into the lab, his gnarled fingers typing commands into a console. The largest vat in the facility dominated the room, its thick glass fogged with condensation. Inside, Shigaraki Tomura floated, his body threaded with IV lines pumping stolen Quirks and stabilizing serums into his veins. His usually pale skin was now streaked with dark veins, his fingers twitching occasionally as if caught in a nightmare.

"The assimilation is progressing faster than anticipated." Garaki muttered, adjusting a dial. 

"His body is resisting some of the Quirks, but the Glintstone infusion is helping stabilize the process."

All For One observed his successor silently. Even now, even in this state, Tomura's face was twisted into something between pain and fury.

"He's fighting it." AFO mused, almost amused.

"Y-Yes," Garaki admitted. 

"His consciousness is stronger than we predicted. He may wake before the seven days are up."

"Let him fight. Struggle only makes the eventual surrender sweeter."

All For One's fingers twitched.

"Prepare the units. When the time comes, we will remind the world what true fear looks like."

All For One didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, pressing a single finger against a button. 

"A gift." he finally said. "For the man who does not belong here."

Garaki swallowed hard but said nothing.

The vault door hissed open, revealing the chamber where the monitors flickered with live feeds from UA's Sports Festival, but his ruined eyes were fixed on something far more interesting.

Through the hundreds of Nomu vats lining the walls, pairs of glowing yellow eyes snapped open in perfect unison as their master chuckled. The viscous fluid bubbled violently as the creatures stirred, their hulking forms twitching with newly awakened hunger.

"Ah , what obedient little monsters." All For One mused, his voice like oil spreading across water. His smile widened as the camera zoomed in on Enrai standing stiffly among the UA faculty.

In the flickering monitor light, the silhouettes of High-End Nomu began pressing against the glass—but there was a unique one, modified with flecks of shimmering blue ore embedded in his exposed skeleton. The same ore now sitting in the Hero Commission's lab.

Garaki adjusted his cracked glasses, the reflection of those hundred pairs of eyes gleaming in the lenses. 

All For One leaned back, the heart monitor beeping faster as he watched Bakugo's arrogant speech play out on screen. 

"Good. Let the festival begin. Let them cheer." His fingers twitched—a barely perceptible signal.

In their vats, every Nomu's eyes snapped to the same frequency—golden, just for an instant.

"Soon, they'll learn what real monsters look like."