Chapter 3: The World Continues to Swing
The Erasure Hero, Shota Aizawa, was hoping not to teach classes today. He's had more than enough rest after the League of Villains nonsense, the wounds he sustained were easily healed by Recovery Girl, and he's had more than one good night's sleep, but he still felt on edge and more frustrated than he is willing to show on his face.
Why?
Because it's that damn time of the year again.
He doesn't care that the coming event is the reason he entered the Hero Course when he was a student in UA. He wants to abolish the festival and erase it from everyone's minds forever. Alas, even if by some twist of fate he were to one day become the university's dean, he still wouldn't have the right to make his dream a reality. Damn that Commission even more than he already does.
There is only one good reason why the Sports Festival should happen, in his opinion, but that small bright side always has to wait until the Provisional Hero License Exam, so even more days of misery for the man who wishes he were born a sloth.
"Suck it up, Shota. This will end quicker if you just go with the flow," He sighed, reaching the doors to his classroom, 1-A.
He opens the door, and as he expected, only seventeen of the students he didn't expel are in attendance. The eighteenth will be arriving shortly.
"Tokoyami! I have expressly told you before not to sit on top of your desk like that! You are insulting our predecessors who have sat on them before us!" Tenya Iida raised his voice in lecture to his classmates as always, when they do things the standoffish student doesn't approve of, which is practically everything.
"Do you always have to be so loud?" Fumikage Tokoyami said with slight annoyance.
Sure, the way he is sitting in his chair while chatting with his classmates wasn't appropriate, but it wasn't worth raising a fuss while class hadn't started yet, in Aizawa's opinion, and Tokoyami is a responsible young man.
"I get that you're still on edge, man, but you should still try to relax," Mashirao Ojiro insisted. Everyone is still spooked by what happened in the USJ, but they are doing a commendable job putting it behind them since they're safe now, and the teachers have assured them that better measures will be taken to keep them safe.
"Danger or not, that is still no excuse to slack off. We're studying and training to be future Heroes! We need to be more refined and disciplined than this," Iida would not let up.
"I swear I'm this close to blowing his ears off if he keeps this up," Kyoka Jiro said, the most annoyed today by Iida's bossy attitude.
"If you did that, he just might become more determined to be heard by everyone," Tsuyu countered, having a better idea of what Tenya is like.
"True, but he could learn to try and be more like moi-même," Another of the blondes who always shows off the most annoying smile to Aizawa, Yuga Aoyama, said vainly.
"Still, better him than Prince Charming over there," Mina said with a huff, pointing without looking at the biggest loudmouth in the class.
Bakugo sat by himself in his chair, looking like the ticking time bomb he was. His explosive temper is well-known throughout UA, and his apparent need to let loose his rage once and a while is like a mantra, but unlike before, his rage is suppressed, as though the source of his current ire is beyond his reach, and so he has no one to point it at.
Not that he believes he needs to justify his behavior since he's convinced that he is the strongest in the university, and he won't stop rubbing his most significant victory against Todoroki in everyone's faces.
"I'm going to kill him," Bakugo growled as his body won't stop shaking.
"Wow, you're really mad today, Bakubro," Eijiro Kirishima, the redhead, though it's obvious that his hair was dyed, said with slight concern, being the only one who is friendly to Katsuki and the only one who dares to get close to him. "You alright?"
"I'm going to kill him,"
"Still upset about that one incident, I see," Kirishima said, somehow understanding that Bakugo is still livid about his encounter with Webjack. "You know it wasn't that big of a deal, right?"
"I'm going to kill him!" Bakugo raised his head to face Kirishima with his voice raised higher.
"I mean, it was unmanly the way he slammed you to the ground after all we've been through, but I'm sure he was also on edge,"
"I'm going to kill him,"
"A fair argument, but you should still leave him to the professionals."
"How are you able to understand him?" Mineta uttered, unable to process how the two of them could get along when Bakugo is the most detestable person the rest of the class had ever met.
"Best bros since High School, remember? And real men have more than one way to commune with each other," Kirishima grinned, proud of his logic, while everyone else thinks he is full of himself.
"I'm going to kill him!" Bakugo snapped at him, also of the same opinion.
Katsuki has been like this ever since the villains were defeated. Mina told Aizawa everything, how, after Webjack rescued her, Bakugo showed up and instigated a fight with the Vigilante, only to be easily bested despite how the Spider was clearly in no condition to keep fighting.
Katsuki has been riding on a high horse for too long, and the moment someone more capable showed up to outshine him, his frail perception of reality started to crumble and has became delusional.
The teacher has seen this happen many times and counted on Bakugo being bested sooner or later to help him improve his heroism beyond his already superb powers. If you can't balance your skill with at least a degree of compassion and restraint, then you're just another villain.
Aizawa only regretted that it wasn't someone in UA who set Bakugo straight, but he bet his cards on Shoto, and he lost. Still, being bested by someone seemingly rejected by Hero Society has to hurt even worse, so the strict teacher still got what he wanted. Now he just has to figure out how to properly humble the explosive boy.
"Is he still upset over his dumb stunt against Webjack?" Shoto asked in a rare display of being the first to instigate a conversation with his classmates when he's usually the lone wolf of the group.
"Yep. What a loser," Mina said with uncharacteristic scorn in her tone.
"I'm going to kill him!" Bakugo directed her anger at the pink-skinned girl, who was not intimidated by the explosive threat, having grown accustomed since her High School days with him and Kirishima.
"Mina. Don't provoke him. This is as nice as he's going to be," Kirishima pleaded to his closest friend to be nicer.
"As little petty as he can be, you mean,"
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" That got a different response from Bakugo, who was now truly angry.
And that's his cue.
"Settle down, problem children; otherwise, more of you will be expelled," Aizawa warned, and while the students were accustomed to their homeroom teacher making this threat whenever they misbehaved, it didn't make it any easier since they knew he was serious after what he did to their two previous classmates.
Everyone sat down, and Aizawa moved to his lectern.
"Good. Now, before we begin, a reintroduction is in order," He stated, confusing his students by what he could mean.
"I'm sorry, sensei, but what do you mean by that?" Momo Yaoyorozu, the Class Rep, asked.
"Also! We cannot possibly begin anything without first addressing the big concern of one of our classmates being noticeably absent," Tenya added next as the Vice-Rep.
"Yes, about Miss Hagakure, there's a reason why she hasn't arrived yet. I would have just dragged her inside already and demanded all of you to take the news in stride, but both she and the Dean insisted we do things this way, and so without further delay," Aizawa said with enthusiasm so false it made all of them cringe. Pausing for dramatic effect was even worse.
They didn't have to wait long for whatever this was, as someone they had never seen before opened the door to the classroom and walked in.
What got the student's attention was the girl's face. Skin as fair as Momo's but more stunning somehow, long, messy, wavy chartreuse hair, with pink specks, bushy eyelashes, and big, round eyes, with pupils that are teal on the outside and yellow on the inside.
There was only one word that could describe this girl. Just one that all the boys were thinking of.
'Beautiful!'
"Belle…" Aoyama blurted out, unable to look away from the work of art before him. "Simply belle."
"Is she an Angel…?" Denki was practically drooling at this point, as lost as Aoyama.
"I have never been more horny in my life," Mineta wanted to blurt out, but settled for a whisper so no one but Jiro and Shoji could hear him. They could still tell what he was thinking since drooling was all he could do at the moment, his lust taking over.
"Damn…" Even Bakugo was mesmerized, his hatred for Webjack having subsided.
"I hate all of you," Jiro huffed with disgust at all of the boys in her class and hidden jealousy.
"Not to come off as rude, but who exactly is she?" Tsuyu asked, wanting to not beat around the bush anymore.
"Sheesh, guys, I know there wasn't really anything to truly identify me before, but you could at least try to put two and two together when I didn't arrive early as usual," The girl responded with a cute pout that did little to hide how amused she felt about their reactions.
Her voice, the only link left that her classmates had to identify her now that her face was finally seen by them, was the final blow needed to tear down the dam.
"HAGAKURE!" Everyone shouted in disbelief.
"Yep. It's me, Toru! Glad to actually meet you all face to face," The Invisible Girl greeted her classmates with the biggest smile she could muster, and it's a big one, given her excitement for her new leisure in life.
"Oh my…" Tenya tried to refocus himself, ashamed of how he reacted like everyone else. "This is most unexpected. I can see why Sensei said reintroductions are in order."
"No kidding. I knew a goddess was hiding in plain sight, but this is more than I hoped," Mineta blurted out.
This was the last straw as Jiro extended one of her earlobes and shoved it in Mineta's ear, releasing a soundwave that caused him excruciating pain, shutting him up for a bit.
"Oh, Toru, I am so happy for you!" Mina cheered, rising from her seat, walking to Toru, and grabbing onto her hands as a form of greeting. "You are just the prettiest thing I have ever seen."
"Thanks, Mina." Toru's smile grew brighter.
"Now that the unnecessary pleasantries are out of the way," Aizawa spoke up to focus all attention on him. "As all of you can finally see. The Staff of UA, myself most of all, took serious issue with Miss Hagakure's crude choice for a Hero Costume."
Toru gives another pout that shows she feels embarrassed. It's not like she wanted to run around naked, but it was better than being an open target to villains.
"—But it has always been difficult to make an ideal suit for people with invisibility unless we had a piece of their DNA as the basis to make such a costume that blends well with their bodies, like someone who can make themselves intangible, they are usually unable to make whatever they're wearing also phase through walls unless what they are wearing was made using their DNA, a fabric known as Geno-Fiber. Since Hagakure's invisibility was permanent, holding on to a piece of her hair and holding on to it, let alone making sure we don't lose it, was nearly impossible. Luckily, someone finally came up with a good idea for a new tech that would benefit anyone with Invisibility and Camouflage Quirks."
"And that would be?" Tenya wondered with intrigue.
"Chameleon Tech. Not sure if you know this, but the other prominent University in Musutafu, Kogane Academy, while lacking a Hero Course, it primarily deals in Support Gear Industries like its high school companion, Kajiya High. As a form of collaboration, UA and Kogane exchange technology between our Support Courses, and for a year now, Power Loader has taken an interest in the work of one particular student that has proven to be Kogane's best so far who came up with Chameleon Tech that Power Loader modified to make Hagakure a real costume that not only blends well with her Quirk but allows her to turn off completely."
"That's incredible," Momo said in awe.
"But… she's wearing a student uniform," Kaminari pointed out.
"I'm wearing my new costume underneath my uniform, silly," Toru teased. "It's still just a prototype, so it doesn't cover much, just the essentials."
"Thank fucking god," Kyoka sighed.
"With the Dean's permission, she will be allowed to continue using her Costume for the rest of the day and take it home with her, and eventually, Power Loader will continue to improve Chameleon Tech to build something smaller to keep her visible without it."
"If someone is smart enough to come up with technology no one in Quirk history has been able to do, then why are they attending Kogane instead of UA?" Kirishima raised a very big question.
"That's irrelevant and none of your concern," Aizawa replied dismissively.
"Oh, I want to meet him so that I can express my gratitude by giving him so many kisses," Toru squealed.
'Lucky bastard,' Mineta, Kaminari, Aoyama, and Ojiro all thought at once.
In truth, Aizawa saw no harm in telling them about Midoriya but chose to withhold this information, sparing a glance at Bakugo for a millisecond.
He informed Nezu about Izuku knowing of Toshinori's identity as All Might, and to the Underground Hero's satisfaction, the Dean of UA was very disappointed by Yagi's blunder. The little Chimera doesn't necessarily make excuses for whatever mistakes the Symbol of Peace makes, but he does usually dismiss them as a part of him learning to improve. But there was nothing positive he could say about this.
Nezu had dug information on Midoriya once Power Loader started praising the ideas for Support Gears he brought to him but it was a superficial search to feed the small curiosity on why the boy didn't apply for UA's Support Course, not that Izuku's profile gave any answers but after this new information, Nezu did a more thorough investigation and what they found was concerning.
That he was Quirkless was the first thing they discovered and the UA Staff saw nothing wrong with that, especially since Izuku, likely of his own volition chose not to try for the Hero Course anymore so he started to favor his intellect over any brawn he may have but one important detail they missed the first time was that he attended the same middle school as Katsuki Bakugo.
The records they read insisted that Izuku was a troubled child who made things unpleasant for the other, more promising students despite his keen intellect, but the records of the High School he attended, Kajiya told a different story about a boy who was very supportive, not quite liked by his peers, but he never caused any problems, and at least three teachers praised him.
Concerning Bakugo, Aldera's records told of a young man who's the complete opposite of the barbarian 1-A is currently stuck with, while the High School Katsuki attended had four teachers who reported his true personality. So Aldera falsified the records of both Midoriya and Bakugo, something Nezu found insulting for fellow institutes to cause such harm to a student, and dealt with them accordingly.
The classes Izuku takes in Kogane are all online, though he does occasionally have to attend them within the Academy, like the lessons in Support Items. He's a loner with no social circle. His father works overseas in America, and he lives with his mother, but he's barely at home, wandering around town without explanation.
So far, there seems to be nothing that indicates what Izuku is really doing with his life, but in this day and age, it is concerning for someone to be by himself. Then again, Quirkless folks tend to live unfair lives needlessly because of outdated beliefs that never died off and are more in line with the mentality of the Villain, Destro, so it makes sense why the young man is keeping everyone at arm's length because he feels he can't trust anyone because of past experiences.
Such a waste…
Shota's main issue is with Katsuki. He never liked the kid from the moment he laid eyes on him, only tolerating him because his potential was better suited for heroism and could not risk doing anything that could push him to villainy, but this new information made the teacher more wary l.
'Mentioning Midoriya, or Deku, as he shamelessly called him, would set him off so he especially cannot know about how his favorite test dummy for his Quirk is seemingly flourishing away from him,' Aizawa thought with hidden disdain. 'Either way, you and I are on thinner ice than whatever is going on with Shoto and his father, Bakugo. I'll help make you a hero, but you certainly will not enjoy what comes next.'
Putting aside his newfound disrespect for now, he has to put his class back on track.
"Speaking of costumes that the Staff takes issue with. Yaoyorozu. You too will be given an upgrade. I understand that your Quirk's main drawback makes decency irrelevant for the sake of efficiency, but we believe we have a solution to your problem to keep you efficient while allowing you to also preserve your dignity as a woman with superior Geno-Fiber," Aizawa continued, making the smartest in the class lower her hand in shame.
Momo knows her choice for a Hero Costume doesn't validate any respect, and she's not proud of her choice either, but her teacher didn't need to be so blatant about it in front of her classmates.
She's not the only one who was hurt by Aizawa's declaration, as Mineta despaired. To him, Momo's current costume was perfect.
'To think I may never be able to gaze upon Yaoyorozu's cleavage. It's a violation of human rights,' He seethed in his mind. 'I HATE THIS CLASS!'
"On another more important topic that you lots need to ready yourselves for, and with luck you won't embarrass me. Not that I care whether you win or lose," Aizawa added.
"Like what, Sensei?" Kaminari asked.
"The UA Sports Festival is in a week."
The class immediately went into an uproar, Aizawa knowing he had lost all their attention at this. And after a minute or so of talking, he got it back as he said, "Now listen up, the festival is important, as there will be tons of eyes on you all. That also means you can't slack off at all."
"We understand completely, Sensei. That said, while it's true that every one of us is thrilled for the Sports Festival, I think we're all also concerned about there being another Villain attack considering the previous brazenness," Tenya brought up a very valid concern.
"We of the faculty share this concern as well, and we did consider canceling the festival this year for safety measures; however, it was decided—"
'And by that I mean forced by the Commission,' Aizawa growled inwardly.
"—That by making sure the festival carries forth, we can show the country and the criminal element that UA remains strong and that their daring assault accomplished nothing, and considering that all of you managed to hold your own until help arrived, I can agree with this sentiment, to an extent. Even still, you should be on your guard in case the worst does happen. The other classes have no doubt already been informed of this warning by now."
His students seemed complacent with his warning, expressing a braver side to them that most of them had not shown before, and to that, Aizawa feels confident, showing a little bit of pride for their resilience.
"Good. You're all learning. Now, let's begin the day."
"It'll be finished soon. This is almost too good to be true." The words slipped from Izuku's lips in a breathless whisper, carried on the wind like the thrill of a secret finally about to be told.
His heart beat with a quiet excitement—today might be the day. After months of planning, scavenging, refining, and bleeding for this project, he was finally on the cusp of completion. He had the skill now. The tools. The know-how. All that was left was to reach the one place in the world where he could make it happen.
His sanctuary.
Takoba Municipal Beach Park.
Once, it had been a picturesque stretch of coast just outside the city limits of Musutafu—families vacationed here, lovers walked the shoreline, and kids built sandcastles in the summer sun. But time had not been kind. Years of neglect, polluted tides, and uncollected waste had transformed the once-vibrant beach into a landfill graveyard. Twisted metal, shattered glass, broken appliances, torn clothing—everything society didn't want found its way here.
To the public, it was an ugly scar on the city's edge. An eyesore. A forgotten blight.
To Izuku Midoriya, it was perfect.
A hidden junkyard of treasures. A place the world ignored. A place where no one asked questions. Where a boy like him could disappear and build something great from the discarded remains of someone else's failure.
He stepped carefully over a half-buried washing machine and made his way toward the rear edge of the beach, where the rusted hulk of the Takoba Mattress Factory stood like a tomb.
The old building had been shut down long before Izuku was born. Rumor said a local Quirk accident led to a recall scandal, and the owners vanished overnight. All that remained was a decaying shell of concrete and rust.
He approached the factory's warped front door. The metal was flaked with age, red-orange rust clinging like dried blood. The hinges groaned in protest as he forced it open, and a familiar, comforting scent hit him immediately — dust, oil, sea salt, and the faint coppery tang of metal.
After a short walk through a narrow corridor, Izuku stepped out onto the factory floor.
What had once been a lifeless husk now buzzed with the subtle chaos of his mind. Workbenches stretched across the room like an inventor's dreamscape. Spare parts—motors, gears, wires, fragments of villain tech—lay sorted (or not-so-sorted) in bins, across tables, and scattered along the floor. Toolboxes sat open with screwdrivers and pliers hanging from drawers. Blueprints and schematics—some with coffee stains, others with burnt edges—covered the walls like an evolving conspiracy web. Hundreds of notes. Hundreds of dreams, calculations, failures, and near-misses pinned up like pieces of his soul on paper.
And at the very back, beneath a flickering overhead light, sat a small wooden chair. Cracked, creaky, and barely holding together—but it was his. He always sat there when he was working late. When he wasn't patrolling. When he wasn't hiding.
When he wasn't pretending.
He let out a breath and looked around, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Home away from home," He murmured.
To the rest of the world, he was a mystery. A vigilante. A criminal. A walking headline.
But here…?
Here he was, just Izuku Midoriya. The boy who never stopped building. The boy who refused to let rejection be the end of his story.
"Honestly, Deku. What will it take for you to realize you're not meant to be a Hero?"
The memory hit him like a mild shock—Bakugo's voice, sneering and sharp, but almost… tired?
"As dumb as you are, even I gotta admit you've got a decent brain. You'd be better off making Support Gear."
It had been a rare moment. They were twelve. Too tired to fight that day. Too apathetic to bully. Maybe even… truthful.
Izuku chuckled under his breath. The comment wasn't even meant as a compliment; he was sure of it. But it stuck with him. It planted a seed.
At the time, he still wanted to get into UA's Hero Course. Still believed in the dream. Still worshipped All Might.
But that single moment—that accidental truth from Bakugo—was the first time he saw value in something else. In himself.
That's when he started analyzing Quirks not just to understand them, but to improve them. He studied how Support Gear compensated for flaws, like how Eraserhead's Capture Weapon amplified his style of combat and compensated for his Erasure Quirk's inherent limitations.
It wasn't about making tools. It was about empowering people. Giving Heroes the edge they needed to win.
Just like he gave himself the tools to fight when no one else would.
Alder Middle School was never known for its stellar education, and certainly not for nurturing future Heroes. It didn't have training courses or fitness programs, or battle simulations. What it had were tired teachers, peeling walls, and just enough ambition left in its faculty to recommend alternatives to the handful of students who dared to dream beyond their circumstances.
Most teachers didn't like Izuku. Not really. His presence reminded them of how society would always be teeming with imperfection. A Quirkless kid dreaming about heroism was like a blind man dreaming of flying—admirable in theory, annoying in practice. But a few tolerated him… and even respected his intellect.
It wasn't until high school, though, that real doors began to open. But long before any teacher acknowledged his talent or opened a path, Izuku began training himself—not his body, but his mind.
It started with a broken TV.
He dismantled the whole thing on a whim when he was twelve. Wires, glass, the motherboard — everything reduced to scattered parts across his bedroom floor like the aftermath of a science-themed murder scene. He didn't even know why he was doing it, just that he needed to understand how it worked. And more importantly, could he put it back together?
It took him seven months.
Seven months of failures, sparks, shocks, burns, and frustration.
But eventually… the screen flickered back to life.
He missed his thirteenth birthday in the process—completely forgot it. His mother hadn't. She cried when she realized he hadn't come out of his room all day. But Izuku didn't care. Not at the time. That glowing screen was proof he wasn't useless. That he could build something real.
After that, it escalated fast.
He taught himself how to hack old phones and refurbished laptops. He pirated software that he shouldn't have had access to. He used bootleg tutorials that only had half the screen translated into Japanese. The more he learned, the deeper he fell. It wasn't just a hobby anymore—it was a need. A hunger.
He once joked to himself: "I have a passion for this that could only belong to a Villain."
And speaking of villains…
Being Webjack came with its perks.
Most of the thugs he took down were junkies with blades or knockoff Stain masks, but every so often, he'd fight someone with real gear—stolen support tech, jury-rigged Quirk enhancers, black market scrap from the underworld. And sometimes… he took it. Not proudly. Never proudly. But what choice did he have?
He didn't have a lab. He didn't have a corporate sponsor. He didn't even have a support team.
Just junk, scavenged parts, and desperation.
But it all paid off, just like his time in Kajiya High and now in Kogane Academy. Everything finally clicked. The studying, the practice, the blueprints—they all coalesced into something meaningful. His first year in the Support Course wasn't just productive—it was transformative.
He never dared make support gears for Webjack using the equipment in either institute to not incriminate them as potential accomplices of his Vigilantism, and implemented their teaching in dumpster diving instead.
He met Power Loader from UA. The Excavation Hero himself, reviewed and approved multiple designs Izuku had submitted. The Dean of Kogane even told him personally—apparently, Power Loader didn't just approve them; he was impressed. And when someone like him is impressed… you've done something right.
Of course, the Dean was a greedy bastard. But even so, he wasn't heartless. He gave Izuku a share of the yen UA paid out for the schematics. Not much—but enough to fund a few upgrades. Enough to get serious.
Izuku began selling his All Might merchandise—once sacred treasures now sealed in airtight boxes and auctioned off to the highest bidder among All Might zealots online. The irony wasn't lost on him. Using that very image of the man he worships to fund his rebellion.
And the first thing he bought?
Stress balls.
Hundreds of them.
He needed to regulate his strength. Test himself. Recalibrate.
He'd squeeze them, one by one — measuring pressure, tracking damage, keeping notes. He crushed sixty-eight before he figured out how to hold one without destroying it.
Then came the real test: cars and refrigerators scavenged from the beach. He'd punch them. Tap them. Slam into them. Not to destroy. To learn restraint. To ensure that when he touched something—or someone—he wouldn't leave a dent. Or worse.
Eventually, he got himself a grip strength meter—one of those analog hand-held devices that measured force in kilograms.
The first one shattered like glass.
The second one survived—barely. He started gripping at around 800 kilograms, and over the course of weeks, he lowered it. Gradually. Meticulously. Day by day.
Until finally…
56 kilograms.
That was the magic number. That was the grip strength of an average adult man. Nothing threatening. Nothing harmful.
It was the number that let him hug his mother again without fear.
And to Izuku Midoriya, that mattered more than any villain takedown or online headline.
He made his way toward the former manager's office, now his personal haven. It wasn't glamorous, but it was his. A beat-up mini-fridge sat humming in the corner beside a small, dusty TV, a scuffed desk with a hand-me-down computer, and a police radio crackling quietly from time to time. The centerpiece was a big, padded computer chair—worn but still comfortable, especially after long nights.
Izuku walked over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a cold soda. The hiss of the tab snapping open echoed in the room, cutting through the silence. With his drink in hand, he reached beside the fridge for a black storage box, carried it carefully to the workshop table, and set it down with reverence.
He flipped the lid open, revealing a neatly folded, unfinished Webjack costume—sleek, clean, and more advanced than anything he'd worn before.
Mark II.
Only one piece remained before it was complete.
"Just one last component and you'll be ready to go," Izuku muttered with a grin, picking up the mask, new, sharp, and radiating potential.
From the drawer beneath the worktable, he pulled out a smaller white box and opened it to reveal a pair of Smart Glasses—sleek, high-end, and loaded with possibilities. He set them on the table, the lenses catching the faint light, and rolled up his sleeves.
Disassembling the Smart Glasses took patience, but he moved with the steady rhythm of someone who had spent years learning how things ticked—how to take them apart, rework them, and make them better. Piece by piece, he laid the components out like a digital puzzle: microchips, sensors, fiber optic strands, and the delicate core processor.
His mind whirred faster than his hands.
The processor was the heart—it would become the brain of his custom-built HUD. The tiny, high-resolution display unit would serve as the visual interface, mounted just behind the lenses of the mask. Izuku picked it up and held it to the light, imagining the lines of code it would soon be running.
He worked through the connectivity modules next: Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, a secure, encrypted local link that could connect to his phone, his laptop, even his tapped-in police scanner. He soldered the delicate wiring with surgical precision, barely blinking as the circuits fused.
The battery system came next. Izuku selected a compact, high-capacity cell—lightweight and long-lasting—and installed it into the reinforced inner lining of the mask. Power management, he reminded himself, was everything. No juice? No HUD. No tracking. No communication.
Finally, he integrated a micro-microphone. Tiny, nearly invisible, but vital. With voice recognition software installed, he could command the HUD hands-free, issuing instructions mid-fight, in the air, or while bound to a wall.
When it was done, he leaned back and admired the inside of the mask—now a full Heads-Up Display, sleek and responsive, tailored perfectly for Webjack.
"It's done," He breathed, eyes glowing. "Now to try it out."
Excitement surged through him, but he paused.
It didn't feel right to just slap the mask on. Not without the rest of it.
With a breath, he began to strip off his casual clothes, revealing the old Mark I suit beneath—green, worn, slightly frayed at the wrist holes where his Psi-Webs had burned through during longer fights. He slowly peeled it off, exposing his body beneath—lean, muscular, strong. The faintest of heat still radiated from his skin, a side effect of the psionic energy that pulsed just beneath the surface.
He held the Mark I suit in his hands for a moment longer. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't advanced, but it had carried him through everything. His first night. His first victories. His first near-death experience.
"It's been a blast, Mark I," He whispered, a pang of reluctant sentiment in his voice. "But we all have to move on eventually."
He folded it gently and set it aside.
Then, with reverence, he reached for Mark II.
The new era was about to begin.
He unveiled Mark II fully, possessing more life and energy, while still possessing the color green, slightly brighter than before. It is accompanied by black.
The body, head, outer arms, upper hip, and knee-high boots are electric green while the inner arms, upper legs, and outer torso are jet-black. The eye lenses are black on the outline and white in the middle. They are also wide.
Two spider insignias have been placed on the suit; the one on the back is green, resembling a traditional spider. The insignia on the front is black, nearly identical to the other, but with the legs forming a more triangular shape. The boots are slightly below the knee, with black outlining covering them and the feet. The black outlining in particular resembles a spider's web, especially on the mask area and the torso. These outlines split the suit into rectangular segments, which are especially visible on the torso, neck, and shoulders.
Furthermore, Izuku created this suit using his own DNA, having studied Geno-Fibers enough to make it himself, so now the suit itself is one with his body while he wears it, allowing him to unleash his Psi-Webs without needing to make holes anywhere, leaving very little open space, apart from taking the suit off.
The sewing skills that he learned from his Mother when he told her about him becoming interested in Support Gears, something she was more than eager to teach him, have finally paid off because the suit almost looks like it was made by a real Support Gear Inventor.
Once he put the new Costume on, Izuku felt emboldened; the suit felt better than anything he'd experienced before.
He tested out his HUD, and as he calculated, it's working gloriously. He's already connecting to the Police network and checking for more recent crimes. Nothing that the police themselves or local heroes can't handle, so no need for him to get worked up. It took a lot of effort to ensure that his hacking wouldn't be traced, and so far, no one has taken notice of his meddling with the Police Force.
"Wonderful. What's next?" Izuku contemplated before he came up with a new idea. "That's right. With these new improvements, maybe it's time for the tracer to be more helpful."
He reached for the utility belt he kept hidden within the previous suit and now the new one and picked up a small green device, bigger than a coin, shaped like a spider, the same as the spider on his back.
The Spider-Tracer. He made this during his sixth month as Webjack as a way to track down runaway criminals and keep a lock on them if they managed to get away, and he could surprise them once he found where they were hiding, but he couldn't give it enough range to be useful.
At best, it could only go as far as sixty meters before he lost the signal, but now he could make it better to be tracked down for more than a few miles with his improvements.
"This can work a lot better now," He mumbled to himself, fingers dancing across the compact gadget.
He started working and meticulously upgrading the signal transmission system of the Spider-Tracers. Drawing on the improved connectivity knowledge he gained from his HUD project, he boosted the range to a few miles. Now, tracking a target from a distance would be a breeze. And the Spider-Tracers are also designed to attach to any surface like a spider, so it doesn't matter where he shoots.
The real challenge lay in making them deployable while on the move. He conceptualized and crafted white angular wraps to be put on his forearms. These are the Spider-Shooters. These devices are compact, fitting snugly against his suit.
A key breakthrough was the swinging deployment mechanism. Izuku integrated a precision trigger into the Spider-Shooter, allowing him to shoot a tracer while swinging effortlessly. Mimicking the agility and style he harbors as Webjack, the shooter should fire with the same speed as a handgun but with none of the force, so no one he shoots at should be harmed by it.
Izuku tested the device's functionality with a few experimental swings in his makeshift workshop. So much time firing Web Bullets at opponents made him a natural, and all he had to do was give commands from the HUD when released.
To elevate his tracking game, he added multi-tracking capabilities. The HUD could now display real-time data from multiple Spider-Tracers simultaneously, providing a comprehensive view of the locations he marked. It was a considerable leap from his initial attempts.
As he admired the refined Spider-Tracers and tested the shooting mechanism, a sense of accomplishment washed over Izuku. These weren't just gadgets; they were tools that would enhance his effectiveness as a vigilante.
"Alright! I can cover more ground and keep a closer eye on the city with these," He mused, the thought of improving his crime-fighting capabilities fueling his determination to evolve as Webjack. Of course, he has to be careful not to lose these little tracers since he has only made two thus far.
"Now, it is high time I complete it. My magnum opus," Izuku mused, impatient to create his greatest invention yet.
His work is sadly cut short when an alarm came from his HUD, reporting a Villain Attack that he was quick to respond to.
"All Units be advised. Villain Attack on Fukuma Street. Villain Name: Gusthawk. Wanted for the murder of seven police officers. Only one Hero at the scene, Backdraft!"
"Backdraft? Oh man, Rescue Heroes can't catch a break this year," Izuku uttered, not seeing a good outcome, and decided to go and help. He picks up the Spider-Tracers and places each one into his Spider-Shooters, followed by putting on his Spider-Cord and running off at lightning speed.