Before Izuku could answer, a soft voice spoke up behind them.
"If I may… I would like to join your team as well."
The three turned to see a girl with long, flowing green hair shaped like vines, her demeanor graceful and serene. Her hands were clasped together as though in prayer, but her sharp eyes betrayed quiet determination.
"Wait, you're…" Ochaco began.
"Ibara Shiozaki," the girl said with a polite bow. "From Class 1-B. I hope I'm not intruding. I simply feel… compelled to test myself against the strongest. And given your headband value, Midoriya-san, you will surely face the greatest storm. It would be an honor to stand by your side."
Izuku studied her for a moment, then smiled. "Well, I'm not gonna say no to that. Welcome aboard."
Mei tilted her head, sizing the girl up. "So, uh… what do you do? Not to be rude or anything, but I don't exactly know your deal."
Ibara smiled faintly, extending a hand. Her vine-like hair slithered and twined, demonstrating its reach and control. "The Lord has blessed me with these vines. They can shield, ensnare, or strike as needed. If you require a strong support and defense, I can provide it."
"Woah…" Ochaco whispered. "That's… actually perfect for this."
Izuku nodded, already picturing the setup in his head. "Exactly. You'll be our shield, Ibara. With you defending, Ochaco supporting, and Mei keeping everyone off-balance with her inventions, I can focus entirely on offense."
Ibara bowed her head slightly. "Then may our teamwork be blessed."
Mei gave her a sideways grin. "You're pretty formal, huh? I like it. Balance to my chaos."
Ochaco giggled, already feeling the dynamic of their little group coming together.
Meanwhile, across the stadium, other students noticed Izuku's new team and began whispering nervously.
"Wait, he pulled two from his own class and one from Class B?!"
"Shiozaki's vines are no joke… she could stall out entire groups on her own!"
"This is ridiculous. Who would even dare go after them?"
Izuku stretched his arms with a small smirk. "Alright then. Looks like we're ready for round two."
The buzzer echoed across the arena, sharp and commanding, signaling the start of chaos.
[Izuku - Rider]
[Ibara] [Ochaco]
[Mei - Rear Support]
Every single team's eyes locked onto Izuku like predators spotting prey.
"GET HIM!!"
"He's worth ten million points!!"
"Take down Midoriya and it's an instant win!!"
The ground rumbled beneath their feet as dozens of teams charged at once, quirks igniting the field in a kaleidoscope of explosions, flames, ice, and lightning. It was like standing at the center of a storm.
Ochaco's eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. "I-Izu, that's—"
"I know," Izuku cut her off with a grin, his voice steady, his aura almost radiating excitement. His eyes gleamed with determination. "Exactly what I wanted."
The first wave of attackers lunged, their combined force like a tidal wave crashing toward them. Shards of ice sliced through the air, flames coiled like serpents, and projectiles whistled with deadly precision.
Ibara stepped forward, her expression serene, hands clasped in prayer. "Forgive me," she murmured softly. From her back, dozens of vines burst forth with explosive force, weaving into a massive wall of thorns. The barrier bristled, hissing as fire struck, cracking as ice slammed into it. Explosions tore at its surface, but the living fortress flexed and held strong, shielding the team in a cocoon of green.
"Release!" Ochaco shouted, her hand pressing against the vines just as several opponents vaulted overhead. Suddenly, the wall and debris shed their weight, floating upward in a chaotic swirl. Dozens of stunned enemies flailed in the air like helpless prey caught in a net.
And while they struggled—
"Target practice, coming right up!" Mei's voice rang out, gleeful. She yanked a trigger on her custom rig, a shoulder-mounted mini-cannon snapping to life.
BOOM!!
The concussive blast exploded outward, scattering the airborne opponents like ragdolls. Gasps rippled through the stands as the teams were flung harmlessly across the arena, their formations broken in an instant.
Before they even hit the ground, Ibara's vines lashed forward like striking serpents, snatching at headbands with ruthless precision. One after another, points shifted onto Izuku's team as their scoreboard climbed.
The crowd roared, the stadium shaking with excitement at the flawless teamwork.
And then Izuku moved.
A blinding green glow burned in his eyes, sharp and unyielding.
' Time to kill '
Twin beams of searing energy erupted from his gaze—lasers, crackling with controlled power. They tore through the air with an electric sound.
ZZZZT
Forcing every team within reach to recoil. Anyone daring to close the gap was blasted back, their advance stopped cold before they could even touch the formation.
Of course, Izuku had dialed the output down to mild—enough to repel, not kill. But the message was clear.
This was no desperate defense. This was a predator daring the entire arena to come closer.
"Already?! How the hell?!"
"Is he even human?!"
"Midoriya's team is unstoppable!!"
The audience was in uproar. Present Mic nearly toppled out of his seat as he shrieked into the mic.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS NO LONGER A CAVALRY BATTLE—IT'S A MASSACRE!!"
Cameras zoomed in, catching the glint of Izuku's grin, the whiplash of vines shredding across the field, Ochaco's effortless releases, and Mei's explosions painting the air in smoke and fire.
But not everyone was panicking.
On the far side, a glacier erupted from the ground with earth-shattering force, its jagged peaks cutting off a quarter of the arena. Frost spread in waves, steam curling where fire attacks met the expanding wall of ice. Atop it stood Todoroki, eyes as cold as the frozen battlefield he conjured.
"Ten million points or not," he said flatly, his breath fogging in the chill, "I'll freeze you where you stand."
From the opposite side, detonations boomed like artillery. Bakugo soared through the smoke, explosions propelling him forward with rabid speed. His face twisted in fury, eyes blazing.
"DEKU!!" His voice cracked across the field like thunder. "I'M TAKING THAT HEADBAND OFF YOUR CORPSE!!"
The air thickened. Two storms—one of ice, one of rage—were bearing down on Izuku.
And at the center of it all, Izuku stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders as the ground trembled beneath him. A smirk tugged at his lips, his eyes gleaming with a predator's anticipation.
"Finally…" His voice rumbled low, steady. "…the real fight begins."
But before those storms could collide with him—
"Not so fast, Class A!"
A blur of motion darted in, vines and ice cracking aside as another team wedged themselves into the spotlight. Neito Monoma's mocking laugh carried over the chaos.
He extended his arms theatrically, his team backing him with sharp glares. "Thought you'd hog all the attention? Pathetic! I'll drag you down, Midoriya, and prove Class B isn't beneath you!"
Ibara's eyes flicked in his direction, her voice soft but clear. "Be careful, everyone. He can copy quirks."
Monoma's smirk widened. "Really, Ibara? Selling me out in front of the enemy? Doesn't matter. Copy or not, we'll still rip you—"
FWOOOSH!
Wind howled. The arena floor cracked.
Monoma's words cut short as his entire team was hurled backward, scattered like paper dolls caught in a hurricane. Their cries vanished beneath the roar of displaced air, tumbling helplessly across the battlefield until they slammed into Todoroki's glacier with a sickening thud.
Silence.
The audience blinked in disbelief. Even Present Mic froze, his jaw hanging open before he finally exploded:
"AAAAAAAAAAND THEY'RE GONE!! ONE BREATH, ONE MOVE, AND TEAM MONOMA IS ERASED FROM THE FIELD!!"
Izuku exhaled slowly, lowering his hand as if swatting away an insect. His brow twitched ever so slightly.
"…Who the hell was that again?" he muttered.
Ibara clasped her hands, whispering a prayer for Monoma's downed team. Mei was giggling, frantically scribbling new design notes. Ochaco shook her head, sweatdropping.
But Izuku?
His eyes were no longer on the pests.
They burned forward, locked onto Todoroki's glacier. Then they slid, sharp as daggers, to the smoke trail of Bakugo's advance.
Two storms. One battlefield.
TO BE CONTINUED