Kyoka Jirou had been doing fine.
No—better than fine.
She was focused, efficient, and had already downed a decent number of 1- and 2-pointer bots with a few well-placed Heartbeat Surges and sonic-pulse ambushes. Even one of the heavier 3-pointers had stumbled under the combined force of her attack and another student's brute strength. The exam was tough, sure—but manageable.
And then... it came.
The ground had started to tremble—subtle at first, then harder, heavier. Not the kind of shake that came from another robot stomping around the corner. No, this was the kind of quake that rattled bones. The air changed. The light dimmed.
And then she saw it.
Towering above the rooftops.
Armored like a walking fortress.
A single, massive red eye scanning the horizon with cold purpose.
The Zero Pointer.
Jirou's instincts screamed.
Run.
And she hated it.
It was the most un-heroic thought she'd ever had—but it hit her like a punch to the chest. She wasn't ready. No one could be ready for that. That thing didn't look like it belonged in a test—it looked like it belonged on a battlefield, tearing through tanks, not teenagers.
Still, as she turned and ran, her training kicked in.
She didn't just run away—she ran toward others. Pulling people to their feet. Calling out routes through rubble. Using her earjacks to track danger and redirect the panicking. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she kept moving.
And then she saw him.
A blonde-haired boy. Kaminari Denki.
He wasn't running away.
He was charging forward—toward the Zero Pointer. Towards the danger.
Jirou hesitated. Wanted to turn back. Wanted to help.
But someone else cried out nearby. Another student was pinned under debris.
She clenched her jaw and pushed forward.
Ten seconds later…
She heard it.
A sound unlike anything she'd ever heard in her life.
Not a boom. Not a screech. Something else.
The sky seemed to split. The air itself screamed. The kind of noise that made the world feel like it was holding its breath—then shuddering under the weight of it. Lightning danced across the battlefield like it had lost its mind.
Her ears rang from the sheer force of it.
And for a second… it looked like it had worked.
Until everything went wrong.
The rumbling started again—worse this time. Explosions. Shattering glass. Building after building collapsing under the relentless, rampaging weight of something massive. Smoke rose behind them like the clouds of a storm. Present Mic's voice—normally boisterous and playful—was grim over the arena speakers.
"All examinees, head for the evacuation point! Reach the gates where you entered from as fast as possible. Help others on the way as well. This is not a part of the examination! I repeat, this is not a part of the examination! Teachers are inbound. Move now!"
Jirou didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed the nearest stunned student and started sprinting.
Someone was carrying Kaminari—his body limp, his face dazed and smiling in a goofy way.
The group of them reached the evac point fast—but even as they did, the air still thundered with crashes. The city simulation around them shook like it was ready to crumble.
And then—
CRASH!
The top floor of an office building nearby exploded outward in a shower of glass.
"Hey, what's that?!" someone shouted behind her.
Jirou turned—just in time to see something leap from the top floor.
Someone.
A man.
He fell fast—far too fast—and yet somehow in control. Halfway down, he snapped something upward—a glowing chain—and slung himself from a crane as though the air itself had turned solid.
It all happened in seconds.
One moment he was seventy meters in the sky.
The next—
BOOM!
He landed hard enough to make the ground quake. Not a stumble. Not a scrape. Just a single roll—then he was up again, rising from the dust like a statue come to life.
Golden-brown shield bloomed from his left.
A spear shimmered into existence in his right.
He turned to face the chaos.
And that's when the building behind him erupted.
The Zero Pointer charged through it like paper, crumbling concrete and steel as it surged forward—unstoppable.
Gasps filled the air.
Jirou's chest tightened. Fear gripped every heart around her.
Some students choked back sobs. Others froze.
But he—
The man with the shield—stood between them and annihilation.
Like he belonged there.
Solid. Unyielding. Unafraid.
His back, broad as a mountain, blocked their view of the monster entirely—and somehow, that made it less terrifying. As if the thing couldn't touch them, so long as he stood there.
Then—he raised the spear.
And slammed its base against the ground.
FLASH.
Golden light flared along its length like ancient veins awakening.
And in the next breath—
BOOOOOM!
The world exploded.
The Zero Pointer—this thing they all thought was indestructible—was torn apart in a storm of fire and force. Its head vanished in a flash of light. Its arms detonated mid-motion, pieces raining across the field. Cars were crushed beneath the falling debris. The ground itself cracked beneath the shockwave.
And then the machine collapsed.
Dragged forward by its own dead weight.
It skidded to a halt with an earth-shaking crash—
One meter from the man who had ended it.
Silence followed.
Thick. Breathless.
And then—
Cheers.
Screams.
Shouts of disbelief and joy.
"He did it!"
"What the hell was that?!"
"He saved us—he actually—he—"
Jirou stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs, her eyes wide as they locked on the man now lowering his spear.
He didn't turn to them.
Didn't speak.
But in that moment, something in her—something in everyone—had shifted.
He had stood before the storm.
And the storm had fallen.
The cheers had barely settled before a different kind of energy took hold.
A hushed one.
The kind that crept in when joy faded, and the magnitude of what they'd just witnessed began to settle.
Dozens of students stood in stunned silence, staring at the man who had saved them all—shield still humming faintly, spear planted beside him like a banner in the dust.
And then came the whispers.
"Does..anyone know who is he…?"
"Where did he come from?"
"And That spear—did you see that?!"
Jirou barely moved, still clutching one of her earjacks, heart thundering in her chest.
And then someone near the back—a boy with wide eyes and a scraped-up face—suddenly pointed.
"Wait... I've seen him before!"
Heads turned. Eyes widened.
"He's the new teacher at U.A., right?! The one from that viral video! The guy who fought that huge villain—Rauk! He almost cut him down with an axe but ended up freezing him completely in a giant ice block!"
Another voice piped up, nervous, curious.
"What's his name?"
There was a pause. The first boy frowned, as if trying to dig the name from the depths of memory.
"It's… it's… Kratos!"
The name rang out like a hammer on steel.
And in that same breath, they arrived.
The teachers—Aizawa, Midnight, Cementoss, Snipe—flanked by reinforcements and emergency drones, all skidding to a halt at the edge of the ruined field.
Their eyes snapped immediately to the sight before them: the cratered road, the shattered buildings, the broken shell of the Zero Pointer—dead, headless, smoking.
And every single student alive.
Safe.
Aizawa's eyes narrowed.
Midnight gasped softly.
No one spoke.
Kratos turned.
Dust still swirled behind him. Smoke clung to his skin and armor like the breath of war.
And when he began to walk, the crowd parted without a word.
No command. No gesture. Just instinct.
He moved through them like a tide cutting through reeds—solid, unshakable.
That was when the quiet broke—again.
A sob.
Sharp. Real.
A young girl sat just off to the side, her leg clearly broken, tears streaming down her face. She was pale with shock, trembling from adrenaline and pain.
But not fear.
Not anymore.
Her eyes locked on Kratos as he passed her. Her lips trembled.
Then, through gritted teeth, through all the pain and exhaustion—
"Th-Thank you…"
The words were barely above a whisper.
But in the silence that followed, they might as well have been shouted across the sky.
Kratos stopped.
Every breath seemed to still.
He turned his head slightly, the red tattoo across his face catching the broken sunlight.
Then—he bent down.
And with a hand that had once crushed gods and titans alike, he gently rested his palm on the girl's shoulder.
A quiet gesture. No words.
A slight nod.
And then he turned away once more—each step heavy, firm, shaking the earth beneath him as he left the battlefield behind.
He didn't ask for cheers.
He didn't look back.
But every single student there knew—
Whatever happened that day, they would never forget it.