The walk to U.A. was a blur, Musutafu's streets buzzing with morning commuters. My classmates' chatter greeted me at the gate—Uraraka's bubbly wave, Iida's precise salute, Todoroki's quiet nod. Bakugo's scowl burned from across the courtyard, his Explosion quirk sparking faintly as he muttered about "topping the damn exams."
The memory of our canon clash against All Might flickered—two rivals forced to unite. This time, with my Gacha powers, I felt a reckless fire. All Fiction could erase defeat itself, but I wouldn't lean on it. Not yet. Ocean and Saiyan ki would be enough. They had to be.
Class 1-A filed into the lecture hall, Aizawa's tired eyes scanning us from the podium. His scarf twitched, a subtle tell of his Erasure quirk at the ready.
"Settle down," he rasped, voice cutting through the buzz. "Final exams start today. Written tests this morning, practical this afternoon. You've trained, fought, bled. Now prove you're worth U.A.'s name."
His gaze lingered on me, sharper than usual, like he sensed the alien ki pulsing beneath my skin. The written exam was grueling—hero law, quirk physics, tactical analysis—but my Saiyan-enhanced mind, honed by Oceanus's primordial clarity, tore through it.
Three hours later, I handed in my paper, confident I'd aced it. Bakugo's smirk as he passed suggested he thought the same.
Lunch in the cafeteria was a storm of nerves and bravado. Kirishima pounded the table, hyping his "manly" plan to "smash Cementoss."
Uraraka fretted over facing Thirteen's Black Hole, while Momo buried herself in notes, muttering about Aizawa's tactics. I chewed my katsu sandwich, half-listening, my mind on the practical.
Canon memories—Class 1-A paired against teachers, me and Bakugo versus All Might—clashed with the system's unpredictability. What would it throw at me now? Oceanus rumbled, The sea bends to no one's script. Be ready. Then the system flared, neon interface blooming in my vision, unprompted as always.
System Notice: Final Exams Arc detected. Heroic challenge authorized. Special Condition: User has to face all U.A. Pro Heroes in combat simultaneously. Objective: Defeat or outlast all opponents. Reward: Enhanced Gacha Pull (S-Tier guaranteed). Failure: Temporary ability suppression (24 hours). User's declaration required to activate.
My breath caught. All the Pro Heroes? Aizawa, All Might, Midnight, Cementoss, Present Mic, Thirteen, Ectoplasm, Snipe, and more—each a titan in their own right.
Canon had us paired, fighting one at a time. This was insanity. But the fire in my chest—Saiyan pride, hero's resolve—roared. I stood, table rattling, drawing every eye.
"Listen up!" I shouted, voice steady despite the pounding in my ears. "For the practical exam, I don't care how it's set up. All the Pro Heroes can fight me at once. I'll win. No doubt."
Silence fell, forks clattering. Uraraka gasped, "Deku?!" Bakugo's explosion scorched the table's edge. "You damn nerd, you're stealing my spotlight!" Aizawa, lingering by the door, raised an eyebrow, scarf twitching.
The system chimed. Declaration accepted.
Challenge parameters updated. Prepare for combat in Training Ground Beta, 13:00 hours.
_________________
Training Ground Beta
The arena sprawled like a miniature city—mock buildings, rubble-strewn streets, pipes leaking just enough for Ocean's regional sense to tap. Class 1-A watched from an elevated observation deck, their whispers a distant hum.
The teachers assembled across the field, a lineup that would've made canon Izuku quake: All Might, golden hair glinting despite his waning power; Aizawa, eyes already glowing red with Erasure; Midnight, whip coiled, her Somnambulist quirk's scent wafting; Cementoss, concrete slabs rising at his gesture; Present Mic, grinning with sonic menace; Thirteen, Black Hole aura pulsing; Ectoplasm, clones multiplying; Snipe, rifle aimed; and Nezu, perched on a mech-suit, his High Spec quirk gleaming with strategy.
All Might stepped forward, his smile strained but warm. "Young Midoriya, your boldness is inspiring, but reckless. Facing us all? Even I'd hesitate. Withdraw, and we'll revert to paired matches."
His voice carried a fatherly weight, but the system's lock was iron. I shook my head, fists clenching, water ki stirring. "No, All Might. I meant it. I'll win."
Bakugo's shout from the deck—"Stupid Deku, you're dead!"—was drowned by Aizawa's curt, "Then begin."
The ground erupted. Cementoss summoned concrete walls, 10 meters high, boxing me in. Present Mic unleashed a sonic blast, "YEAH!" splitting the air, my eardrums throbbing.
I dodged, Ocean at 60% pulling water from the pipes, forming a 20-meter shield of pressurized ki that absorbed the soundwave, rippling but holding. Aizawa's scarf lashed out, Erasure flaring—my Saiyan ki unaffected, Ocean, divine and unbound, surged untouched. I grinned. ki-based, not quirk-based. You can't erase this.
I countered, summoning a 30-meter torrent from the arena's water sources—pipes, puddles, even the humid air. The wave crashed, shattering Cementoss's walls, forcing him to reform them.
Midnight's mist crept in, drowsy and cloying, but I spun a vortex, 15 meters wide, water ki dispersing her Somnambulist into harmless vapor.
Thirteen's Black Hole roared, pulling debris and my shield toward its void. I anchored myself, Saiyan strength internalized, and redirected the torrent into a maelstrom, its spinning force countering the suction, flinging rubble back at Thirteen. She staggered, adjusting her suit's output.
Ectoplasm's clones—dozens now—rushed me, each wielding ki-disrupting batons. I shifted tactics, Ocean's regional sense locking onto their blood's moisture.
Desiccation kicked in, subtle but crippling, slowing their movements as I shaped tendrils—twenty, whip-thin, diamond-hard—lashing out.
Clones burst into smoke, but Ectoplasm spawned more, relentless. Snipe's bullets zipped through the chaos, grazing my shoulder, blood welling.
No Senzu—quest rules echoed the last challenge. Ocean only, unless I dared All Fiction. Not yet. I pulled deeper, summoning a 40-meter oceanic torrent, its crest infused with primordial weight, crashing over the clones and forcing Snipe to reposition.
All Might moved, a blur of speed even in his weakened state. His fist—Texas Smash—unleashed a shockwave, dispersing my torrent, sending me skidding across asphalt.
Pain flared, ribs creaking, but Oceanus roared, The sea endures! I tapped the arena's underground pipes, bursting them in a geyser, water ki forming a 50-meter colossus—a tidal giant, humanoid, its fists crashing down.
All Might dodged, his grin fierce. "Impressive, Young Midoriya!" He leaped, fist cocked for a Detroit Smash. I countered, the colossus splitting into a hundred tendrils, each homing on his ki signature, wrapping his limbs. He broke free, raw power shattering them, but I'd bought seconds.
Aizawa's scarf snared my ankle, yanking me down. His Erasure flickered again, useless against Ocean's divine essence, but his combat skill wasn't. I rolled, tendrils slicing the scarf, water ki sensing his blood—another desiccation pulse, slowing him just enough.
Midnight struck, her whip cracking my thigh, Somnambulist flooding my lungs. Vision blurred, but I summoned a micro-vortex, clearing the air, and launched a water spear, forcing her back.
Cementoss rebuilt his walls, now spiked, closing in. I dove into my colossus, swimming through its core like a shark, Transform's echo guiding my fluidity. The colossus exploded outward, shattering the spikes, cement dust choking the air.
Present Mic's next scream—"YO!"—hit like a physical blow, blood trickling from my ears. I gritted my teeth, pulling water from my own sweat, forming a 5-meter shield to dampen the sound.
Thirteen's Black Hole intensified, sucking my colossus apart. I shifted, channeling Ocean into blood manipulation—not lethal, but precise—targeting Thirteen's suit, flooding its circuits with moisture, shorting it momentarily.
She cursed, retreating. Nezu's mech fired missiles, heat-seekers locking on my ki. I summoned a 20-meter maelstrom, spinning them off-course, detonating harmlessly against a mock building.
The fight blurred—hours in my mind, minutes in reality. Ectoplasm's clones swarmed again, Snipe's bullets pinned me, All Might's punches cratered the ground. My stamina burned low, costume torn, blood mixing with water ki.
Class 1-A's cheers—Uraraka's "Deku, you've got this!" and Todoroki's calm "Focus"—kept me grounded. I pushed Ocean to its limit: a 60-meter oceanic torrent, the arena trembling, waves crashing in a sphere around me, tendrils lashing in all directions.
Aizawa dodged, but his scarf caught, shredded. Midnight fell back, whip useless against the flood. Cementoss's walls crumbled, Thirteen's suit sparked out, Present Mic's voice drowned in the roar. Ectoplasm's clones dissolved, Snipe's rifle jammed with water. Nezu's mech shorted, the principal chuckling as he bailed.
All Might alone stood, battered but unyielding, his smile proud. "One last push, Young Midoriya!" His United States of Smash loomed, air warping. I had one card left—not All Fiction, not yet.
Ocean's full might: a primordial maelstrom, 70 meters wide, water ki infused with every drop in the arena—pipes, clouds, my blood. It roared, a living sea, swallowing All Might's shockwave, wrapping him in a vortex.
I sensed his heartbeat, his weakening lungs, and eased the pressure—not to kill, but to hold. He struggled, then slumped, nodding once. "Enough."
The torrent collapsed, soaking the arena. I fell to my knees, gasping, blood dripping, but standing. The teachers, battered but unharmed, exchanged glances.
Aizawa's voice cut through: "Pass. Reckless, but a pass." Class 1-A erupted, Uraraka and Iida rushing the field, Bakugo's "Tch, showoff" hiding a grudging smirk.
All Might clapped my shoulder, whispering, "You're becoming something extraordinary, my boy."
The system chimed.
Challenge Complete: All Pro Heroes outlasted. Reward: S-Tier Gacha Pull granted. No penalties. Pull available at user's discretion.
I staggered to the deck, classmates swarming. Oceanus rumbled, The tide consumes all, even titans. All Fiction pulsed, unused but ready—two uses daily, a safety net. The pull waited, but I held off.