Forest of Chaos
Zion stood in the UA locker room, the anonymous note crumpled in his fist: The woods aren't safe tonight. Its scrawled words gnawed at him, a warning he couldn't trace, even with his All-Seeing Eye scanning for clues—nothing, just cold metal lockers and the stink of sweat. Tsuyu adjusted her goggles, her frog eyes calm but sharp. Kaminari fiddled with his gear, muttering about "hero vibes," while Shoji's extra arms strapped on sensors. Dusk loomed outside, the forest training mission minutes away. Zion stuffed the note in his pocket, hiding his unease. Safe or not, I'll turn this to my advantage, he thought, his All for One humming, Lightspeed and Ironclad ready to flex. Momo's doubt from their talk lingered—her Creation could arm his fight against a crooked world, if she'd bite.
Outside, the forest zone sprawled—a tangle of gnarled trees, mist curling like smoke, ground uneven with roots and rocks. Aizawa gathered the teams, his scarf loose, eyes like slits. "Mission's simple," he rasped, voice cutting the chill. "Track the mock villain—pro heroes playing dirty. Teams of four, stealth over flash. No injuries, no property damage. Complications might hit, so don't fuck around." His stare swept Zion's team—Tsuyu, Kaminari, Shoji—and lingered, heavy, like he sensed trouble. Momo's group—Iida, Jiro, and Haruto, a lanky kid with a minor wind Quirk, stood nearby, her ponytail swaying as she checked a map. Zion caught her eye, her face tight, still wrestling his cause. Think faster, princess, he thought, his gaze flicking to Todoroki, his dual Quirk a prize worth stealing.
"Move out," Aizawa barked, and the teams scattered into the woods, shadows swallowing them. Zion's group crept forward, Tsuyu's webbed feet silent, Shoji's arms fanning out to scout. Kaminari's nervous chatter grated. "Bet it's Present Mic playing villain, all loud and shit," he said, grinning. Zion snorted. "Focus, Sparky, or you'll trip and cry." Kaminari laughed, but his eyes darted, loyalty untested. Could pull him in, Zion mused, testing the waters. "Ever think pros are just glorified cops, Kaminari? All rules, no guts?" Kaminari shrugged. "Some, maybe. I just wanna zap bad guys." Weak, but moldable.
Tsuyu ribbited, pointing. "Tracks, kero. Fresh." Her tongue flicked, tasting the air, guiding them deeper. Zion tapped Lightspeed, blurring ahead to scout, his steps a whisper. Ironclad stayed dormant—no need to tip his hand yet. The forest was a maze, branches clawing, mist thick enough to choke. His All-Seeing Eye scanned:
<
Name: Tsuyu Asui
Quirk: Frog
Energy: 10
Endurance: 14
Strength: 8
Appeal: 30
>
Her Quirk was niche, but her cool head made her a potential ally. Shoji's arms signaled movement—a pro, maybe, rustling ahead. Zion signaled a flank, his team circling. A figure lunged—Gang Orca, in villain gear, swinging a mock baton. Tsuyu leapt, her tongue wrapping his arm, yanking him off-balance. Shoji's arms pinned him, Kaminari zapping a low-voltage stun. Zion darted in, Lightspeed a flicker, landing a controlled Ironclad jab to Orca's chest, dropping him. "Tagged," Zion said, smirking, the pro grunting approval before vanishing into the mist.
A system ping hit, mid-fight:
<
System Update –
Simulation Prowess Achieved
Reward: +10 Stat Points
>
Zion funneled 5 to Energy, 5 to Endurance, a surge ripping through him—nerves electric, muscles coiled tighter. Past rewards had hardened him, and this fueled his edge, no need to dwell on specifics. "Nice work," he told his team, eyes on Tsuyu. "You're slick, Froggy." She ribbited, nodding, her appeal steady.
Momo's group echoed nearby—rustles, Iida's voice barking orders. Zion's Eye caught her stats:
<
Name: Momo Yaoyorozu
Quirk: Creation
Energy: 14
Endurance: 12
Strength: 10
Appeal: 95
>
She was crafting traps—nets, spikes—her Quirk a fucking arsenal. If she joins me, we'd rewrite the rules, he thought, her indecision a thorn. Haruto's wind Quirk sent gusts, scattering leaves, while Jiro's earjacks probed for sound. Zion's team shadowed them, using their noise as cover, hunting their own target.
The forest grew wrong—traps torn apart, branches snapped, an eerie quiet settling. Zion's Eye flicked, catching movement too fast for a pro, but no stats registered. What the hell? He pushed his team harder, senses sharp, the note's warning (The woods aren't safe) itching his skull. Kaminari tripped, cursing, and Tsuyu hauled him up, her eyes narrowing. "Something's off, kero," she muttered. Zion nodded, his gut screaming ambush, but no pro showed.
A scream tore through the mist—Momo's voice, raw, panicked. Zion froze, his team halting. "That's not training," Shoji said, arms fanning out. Zion tapped Lightspeed, blurring toward the sound, his team trailing. Momo's group was a wreck—Haruto on the ground, blood pooling, a blade wound splitting his chest. A masked figure loomed, no pro, their blade Quirk gleaming red, real and fucking deadly. Iida was down, clutching his leg, Jiro dazed, her earjacks tangled. Momo stood, shaking, a crafted spear in hand, but her swings missed, the villain dodging with feral speed.
"You thought this was a game?" the villain hissed, voice like gravel, lunging. Momo crafted a shield, but the blade sliced it, knocking her back. She hit a tree, gasping, blood trickling from her arm. "Your Quirk's cute, girl," they snarled, raising the blade. Momo's spear clattered, her creations failing, her face crumpling. "Help!" she screamed, tears streaming, voice breaking as the villain closed in, their blade aimed for her throat.
<
Name: Zion
Age: 16
Quirk: All for One
Special Ability: All-Seeing eye, (locked)
Energy: 35
Endurance: 40
Strength: 30
Appeal: ∞
>
*****