My Fanfic Stash and Favorite online quests

A masterpiece that can rarely be found anywhere in fanfiction community

By nature humans are adaptable creatures some members of hominid family like neanderthals even fought and hunted big fauna like lions barehandedly

Peak human physiology some gold medal olympic athletes display is truly astonishing and this was even more the case for stone age homo sapiens

Research indicates ancient humans were both larger more athletic but also had far more muscle mass and bone density compared to us their modern relatives

Some research even indicates they were far smarter too in a era where mistakes can lead to death any thing that can lead to decrease in intelligence is likely to see you wiped out off the gene pool stupid people were usually not allowed to pass on their genes in nature

Along with the fact better mental compartmentalization and long term planning and pattern matching skills were far more vital in ensuring your and your kins survival

But besides all that despite all of it humanity back than far from peaked in biological capability from a evolutionary perspective and less said about us the modern day humans the better

But what if there was a way to train a human to the limit in all kinds off the charts danger hazard scnerios pushing them to peak human levels both in phtsiology but also in sheer skill

Whats more allowing them to biologically evolve beyond standart human species limits

What if there was a digital program a whole simulation created to facilitate this?

And whats more to see the end result of such a madness?

This is what this fic is about

Words: 327k+

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17292761/chapters/40672001

Summary:

A day goes bad to worse for 14 year old Izuku Midoriya, as he wakes up trapped in a computer simulation with nine different Horror games. The only objective given by the madman who locked him in? Beat all nine games, or be deleted.

A year later, a very different Izuku shows up at the Gates of UA to take the entrance exam.

What horrors has he faced?

Notes:

Translation into Español available: Locked In Digital (¡Traducido al Español!) by Felipollo, RogueDruid (Icarius51)

(See the end of the work for notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: Zero-Day Patch

Chapter Text

Uraraka Ochako rushed up the front steps of UA, heart thumping in her chest.

'Today is the day! The first step! All I have to do is pass the entrance exam. I can do this. I know it!'

Pumping herself up, she jogged down the path to the building, her eyes flashing over the people who were walking with her. From attention-grabbing blonde spikes, to pink skin, and even a towering teen with six arms.

And then her eyes passed over him and something deep in her skull tingled, a warning. Instinct, flickering on and making her notice the teen walking ahead of her.

He looked almost fragile. Short, thin, and most of his form hidden by a dark tan jacket with a fake fur collar that reached halfway up his cheeks, revealing only the barest smattering of freckles. He had earbuds in, his loosely spiked green hair falling to cover the rest of his face from the cheekbones up. Aside from the loose black slacks, and tan jacket, the only thing visible about him was the long boxy case slung over his shoulder. Likely tools or gear for the physical exam; if she was right, they were allowed if built by the applicant.

Beyond that was something about his stance. He moved with a weird silent grace, his steps surefooted. There was a tension to his frame, though.

As she jogged by his eye darted her way, deep fathomless green and black focusing on her, before flicking back forwards.

She wondered why she felt like she was being acknowledged, and then dismissed.

Breaking free from her thoughts, she passed the teen, hearing the faint bassbeat of his music as she passed within reaching distance.

'Why did he look familiar…. Dammit, I can worry later. Exam now!'

"No built-in cheat of a Quirk, no hero here to save you, and a drive to be somebody. Oh, you will work wonderfully."

"What? Sir… Who are you?"

"Heh, kid. Because the world isn't ready, and I'm tired of waiting. I want to see it. The end of all my work."

"What is it!? What do you want from me!?"

"I want you to become a survivor. I want you to win."

Tenya breathed deeply and slowly as he listens to Present Mic explain. However, he was interrupted from his thoughts by a very faint almost imperceptible sound from the side of the room. A slow repetitive sound. A rasp, metal on stone, he believed.

It took a few seconds for him to identify it, but when he did he frowned. A figure to the side, sitting on the very end of the very back row, a blade and sheath half-drawn in his lab, though the shape was too far and too awkwardly angled to make out. At the very least he could say it wasn't a katana. A ring with a flat stone plane sliding over its edge. If not for his acute hearing, he may have even missed it under Present Mic's voice. And if he could hear it, he guaranteed that most of the other people near the teen would also hear it, possibly drowning out the Instructions! What a diabolical plan to get a one up over the competition! In fact, Mic's words offered another question!

He stood up and offered his insight to the examiners.

"May I ask a question!? There appear to be no fewer than four varieties of faux villains on this handout! Such a blatant error, if it is one, is highly unbecoming for U.A., Japan's Top Academy! We are here to be molded into model heroes after all!" And then he turned his attention.

"And you, with the sword! Do you think this is a game!? Your maintenance is distracting and should have been done earlier!"

Cool sharp eyes looked up from under limp black and green hair, and the blade in his hand was closed with a smooth rasp of leather and wood on metal. "Apologies. It's a nervous tick of mine. I'll refrain." the words were soft and calm, but clear and easy to hear.

Accepting such a reason, Tenya focused back on the examiner, as the 0-pointer was revealed and explained.

For some reason, he couldn't help but feel cool sweat along his spine, as if he had just had a close encounter with something dangerous.

Later, as he readied for the exam, he couldn't help but seek out the green haired teen.

It took several moments, but there, in the shadow of the wall next to the gateway, stood the teen. His jacket was unzipped, revealing a tight black shirt, laced with what looked almost like rips made of metal. Hanging from it was black straps leading deeper into his jacket, where a myriad of shapes was hidden under the loose form.

And at his side, was the sword. It was clearer now, the long fairly wide blade, and the wide blocky crossguard.

Iida considered confronting the teen once more, berating him for off putting the other exam applicants with his demeanor, when the shout of "GO" from Present Mic grabbed his attention.

By the time Mic had finished yelling about how there were no countdowns in real life, the teen with green hair was gone.

And a downed 1 pointer rested in the street past the gates, far ahead of the rest of the examinees rushing that way.

"It's quite simple. There are 9 games I've loaded into the simulation, each one designed to teach you skills and force you to think… creatively."

"Complete every game, and you get to leave."

"And the world will get to see exactly how effective my designs are."

Aoyama grunted as he fired once more, another robot shattering under the force of his laser.

It had to be the tenth or so, most of them the higher value 2 and 3 pointers; and he still had plenty of time.

However, as he jogged forwards to search for a new target, he heard the whine of engines and turned a corner, to see a pair of 3-pointers charging the same green teen who had been singled out during the explanations.

He stood, sword held in his right hand as the two robots closed in. Taking a deep breath, Aoyama began to ready his laser once more before the teens left hand raised, and two shots rang out, the sound of gunfire startling the French teen.

He barely had time to register the matte black gun in the teen's left hand, held back and away from the 3 pointers charging him, and instead at the bot that had been flanking him, which was now smoking from a cracked lens in its 'face' and leaking oil from a hole punched through its chassis.

As the other robot grew closer, the gun was swiftly holstered, vanishing in the depths of the tan jacket, and the green haired teen stepped forwards.

A swinging robot fist, fast and strong enough to crush through cars and buildings, but missing green hair by over a foot. The teenager had stepped in closer than the fist was passing and brought his blade up and around, left hand supporting the right through its motions, moving faster than Aoyama could trace.

As he did, the gears and wiring of one shoulder flashed with sparks, wiring severed before he lunged up and off the knee of the robot. The blade pierced through the neck of the beast, through cables and wires, and was torn to the side, leaving the robot to twitch before slumping, disabled.

In all, both take-outs took less than ten seconds from start to finish. Aoyama had barely had time to gather his nerves from the sound of the gunshots before it was over.

Green eyes met blue, and the mysterious green-haired teenager pivoted and leapt down from the bot, before heading further away.

"Perhaps I should hunt down some less… contested points. Yes, that will be for the best."

Aoyama took a turn away from the young man with a sword, focusing back on his own task.

"Is that the kid." A tall man wearing loose dark clothes watched the screens, glancing down at the suited animal next to him. "The simulation survivor."

"It is. His application was quite interesting, I must say. Particularly when you consider his absence from schooling for the last year. The fact he managed to pass the practice exams sent to him is remarkable."

"Hmmm. He's skilled. What about his mind."

"There lie the problems. Isolation. Trauma. Stress and anxiety are all through the roof. But… he does seem to have a handle on it. Coping mechanisms and an understanding of his own triggers to a frankly wonderful degree."

"Hmmph. Send in the 0-pointer. I want to see how he reacts."

A button pressed, and the rumble of the robot moving echoed through the observation room.

Aizawa kept his focus on the green haired teen.

' Show me your potential, Izuku Midoriya.'

Uraraka gasped, dropping the robots around her, and panting from exertion and fighting off a wave as nausea.

"Tw…. Twenty-eight!"

She began to advance, running deeper into the city, before the ground rumbled.

"Wh-" She glanced up eyes widening as she took in the massive form of the robot that was grasping the building.

In fact, she was so distracted she didn't see the falling debris about to bury her.

But then a hand grasped her shoulder, and she felt herself get pulled. She recognized it as something almost like a judo flip, dry and sure hands gripping her arm and shoulder as she was pulled back and swung around from the collapsing building. She left the ground just as the impact of debris shook her out of her stupor, but by the time she was about to say something she was on the ground over three meters away from the impact, having been sent sliding across the street.

"Hey. You can nullify gravity, right?"

That voice was calm and smooth, and she glanced to see the teen she had noted on the way in. he stood, arm still holding her back behind him as he focused on the massive robot tearing through the area. His sword was sheathed at his side, and he was rummaging inside his jacket for something with his other hand.

"That thing's gonna cause more problems and damage than leaving it solves. I need to either stop its movements or kill it. Mind using your quirk on me for a minute?" he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with intent.

"Uh, yeah. Here!" she tapped his arm, and suddenly she could feel the faint lift of pressure from his grip on her shoulder, fighting back the surge of nausea that it sent through her.

"Thanks. Hold it for about 30 seconds if you can. Sorta want to land after this."

And then he was gone, leaping up at an angle and, surprisingly given how hard she knew that sort of control in zero-gravity was, landing in a window frame several floors up across the street, and then leaping from there to the opposite side of the the damaged building the 0-pointer was crashing through.

She lost sight of him, the robot already moving and causing more damage to the street, kicking up dust and smoke from its actions. Any other applicant nearby had long since vanished from the scene, and with nausea racking through her skull, she could barely stand straight as she jogged away from the robot, before grabbing a nearby car for balance. Glancing around. she tried to find the teen so she could let him down from whatever he was doing—wait, was he on the robot's shoulder?

He was.

Standing braced to the neck of the 0-pointer, he was shoulder deep in what looked like a maintenance panel, sparks flying as he sabotaged it. Yanking back, he came away with a length of cable wrapped around his arm, and the robot began to shudder, sparks shooting from several joints as it seized up and shifted awkwardly, one arm suddenly falling limp and dragging the robot across the intersection away from her as it swung its head back and forth.

Worried, she focused on the teen to see him swinging around from the top of the head, anchored by the cord in his left hand, while a long blocky shape was pulled from under his large jacket with his right, two straps showing it had clearly been cinched tight to his frame under the concealing outfit.

But the profile was unmistakable.

Grabbing the frame of the 0-pointers 'face' the green haired teen swung around, and landed, feet braced and wide, as the double-barreled shotgun in his hand was leveled dead center with the largest of the lenses adorning the robots head.

In the sudden silence, the world quieting as things seemed to slow.

The teen said one thing.

"Bitch."

And then the roar of the shotgun blast and shattering glass echoed through the intersection.

And then the back of the robot began to spark, and smoke billowed out of it.

"What the actual fuck," Ochako whispered, watching the teen leap from the robot even as it collapsed, limbs losing energy as it slumped, the green hair teen sliding the shotgun into his jacket with comfort even under the effects of Zero Gravity, spinning as he coasted away from the now seizure-ridden robot.

Remembering that she was the one doing that, she clapped her hands, the teen dropping the last half foot and shaking out his left arm. He paced his way towards her and held out a hand. Face softened slightly, and an air of contentment around him.

"Thanks for the assist. Name's Midoriya, Midoriya Izuku."

Suddenly it clicked. She knew exactly who this was.

"Uraraka Ochako…. Are you the simulation guy?" she panted, trying to fight back rising nausea.

Smirking, he slid his hands in his pockets, as behind him the 0-pointer tilted over, crashing to the ground.

"I might be."

And then she puked on his boots.

Simulation: Survival

Day 1. Hour 2:12:11

Izuku gasped as he shot up from the white sheets, hand coming up to his neck.

Flashes of memory filled him. A needle, manic blue eyes, the underpass, the rough grip of latex around his neck.

Instead of the comforting room he was used to, with its colorful posters and hero worship clear, this room was… brutal in its simplicity. The bed was larger than he was used to, with a dark grey comforter and white sheets and pillows. The walls of the room were sheer concrete and lit by bars of a recessed white light. A desk was to his left and, halfway across the floor, grey carpet from under the bed gave way to white, square tile.

An open doorway to the far right led into an open space with a tiled wall, and across from the bed on the far wall was what looked like a closet, with curved metal panels acting as doors.

Finally, was a metal door to his left.

Speaking of, he glanced down to see that somehow he was dressed in black loose slacks and a white t-shirt with a green stripe from the collar down over the heart to the waist.

Scrambling, he got out of bed and moved to glance in the tiled room, revealing a bathroom with a shower, before darting to the closed door and looking at it. To his side was an green button. Tentatively, he pressed it, only for the door to open.

Before him, a large high ceilinged area stretched out.

'Brutalist' was his first thought. Large pale concrete expanses for walls and floors. With a glass floor over complex computer electronics in the center, around a raised podium with a reclined seat on it.

The far walls were a massive bank of windows, with a pale white glare filtering through the glass that blocked out any view past it, leaving only the faintest shape of buildings and streets out beyond the room. However, in the center of that wall, the room extended out into what looked like an office area. Desk, laptop, and high backed chair.

"Where am I?"

On the desk, a ringing began.

Suddenly Izuku felt nervous. This was… creepy. He glanced around and tried to find another way out, but besides an opening leading to a kitchen area, a glass conference table with a series of chairs around it, and several scattered white couches.

' What would All Might do?'

Taking a deep breath, he turned and tried to march for the desk, though the clash of his stern march with his short and thin stature was… comical, to say the least.

He looked for the phone, only to see the screen of the computer flashing with an 'Incoming Call' logo.

Tapping enter, the screen went black, before snapping on to show the caller.

Long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and skin shallow and pale stretched around thick black rimmed glasses.

"Hello, Mister Midoriya. Pleasure to see you've awakened."

"Wh-Where am I! Why am I here! What is going on!" Izuku shouted, voice cracking from stress.

Lips parted to reveal straight white teeth. "Well, that's quite simple. You are currently inside a computer. Not just any computer either, no… this is a high tech prototype. The first, and possibly only of its time. I call it the Simulation Drive. Your body has been turned to data, and you have been uploaded into the drive. What you see is a complex rendering of a location. In reality, you are in a computer."

Izuku froze, ' in a computer' he blinked and the words just… didn't make sense. There were plenty of stories—fiction—about such a thing, but for it to happen, in real life? It was too absurd, even with quirks!

"See, my dream for three decades now has been to create a way to enter a digital world. I've researched and designed and tested for quite some time… and just as my prototype came to completion, I was fired. My research was taken, locked away… but I managed to keep the prototype. I've been testing it, but I keep running into a problem, you see."

Izuku wanted to scream, to shout. But the words just kept bouncing inside his skull as he stared at the screen in horror.

"Quirks. The power of the people… break the simulation. They are unpredictable, untracked variables. The simulation can't keep up with them. Not quite. So I needed a new target, a new tester… someone quirkless…. Someone with a dream. See, I've heard of your dilemma. You wish to be a hero… Well, I offer you the greatest training possible. The simulation has 9 'games'. Classics from early in the millennia that the system has revamped and used to form its own simulated tests and environments. All you have to do to leave… is complete all 9 games. Each has its own lessons… it's own changes and challenges. But fear not, the world is on your side. As you run through the games... As the simulations play out around you, the world can watch you perform. And who knows, you may even end up with some very useful advice…"

Izuku felt himself go limp, and crashed to the chair heavily, bouncing gently off its springs as he tried to process.

"Now I must leave you. I'll be watching." the glasses came off to reveal pale blue eyes. "Good Luck, have fun!"

The screen turned back, and Izuku stared at it before he spoke.

"But I suck at video games."

Chapter 2: Loading

Summary:

the simulation begins in earnest, while the survivor focuses on the future.

Chapter Text

Inko looked up as the door clicked and opened smoothly. Her heart jumped at the sight of her son, even as part of her ached at what he had to deal with. She heard the screams at night, had seen the flinching early in the morning before he had fully awaken. Beyond that…

"Ah, have you eaten?" she asked, even as Izuku's eyes tracked through the room and he relaxed ever so slightly, sliding the tall case from his shoulder, but still holding it with a tight hand.

"...Not really. Sorry Ma." and he really did look sorry. More than that, he looked disappointed in himself. She could almost read his mind as his shoulders slumped, that familiar air of self-disgust.

"None of that attitude!" she reached up and rubbed a hand across his cheek. Still startled by the fact that her son, who had barely reached her height before the simulation, was now several inches taller than her. Like she expected, angry tears welled beneath her thumb. "So you didn't eat. Did you sleep well? How was the exam?"

He smiled. "I… Slept. A few hours. The exam was… Strange. Familiar." he looked down, eyes closed. "It felt like I was back there… and it was… easy, to slip back into the the mindset." he murmured, and Inko felt her heart break.

His therapist had approved him joining UA. it was, after all, prepared to help people cope with the same things her beautiful, dangerous, broken son dealt with. Trauma. Guilt. Stress.

Things that the general public would villainize him for.

Inko was many things, but ignorant of her son's experience was not one of them. She had forced herself to watch… to understand.

Izuku's habits. His reflexes and skills and instincts had been changed. The slightest triggers, the most vague of warnings. He worked on overdrive.

His doctors referred to it as if he had reverted to a primal state of mind.

In a way, he had. He'd been forced to begin with the very basics. To build off of the most fundamental ideas. Of action, reaction, and focus.

Pulling slightly at her son's head, she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll go put some tea and dinner on. Do what you need to while I do." she stepped away, and Izuku wandered to the living room table, setting his case down and opening it while she moved away from the scene.

Even from the kitchen, she could hear the click and rasp of metal being disassembled.

Then the faint rustle of cloth over metal.

She didn't like the fact her son was armed. That he had a gun, purchased and approved with UA's entrance exam. Both she and UA had been clear. Unless he was actively on patrol or in UA testing grounds, his gun was filled with non-lethal options. From the bean bag rounds for his shotgun, to the custom clips of rubber bullets he had in his handgun.

As the clicking resumed, she waited as the tea boiled before her.

And then the whetstone came out.

And Izuku began to sing.

She knew it was a side effect of the ambiance in which he learned his blade. Of long hours and days under smoke filled and dead skies, of camping in sewers and sitting around bonfires while the demons of the night came and went.

Izuku's song was wordless. There was no language in his actions. No word or story.

Instead it was a haunting melody of deep echoing breaths, and sharp syllabistic hissing. He had explained, the first time she heard it, that it was a counterpoint to the background music of the 9th game. A way to meet the melody and draw out the monsters he stalked.

A way to keep time and control his breathing in the flow of combat.

As the tea steeped, she could only listen with tears as her child sung.

Simulation: Hour 3:11:12

Izuku sat and stared at what the instructions on the computer called the Simulation chair, the blue and white of its design doing nothing to keep the aura of menace it extruded from him.

"I… I have to. Right? No. I should wait, let the heroes respond and come for me… but what if they don't…"

The muttering filled the room, Izuku's eyes locked on the chair as he focused.

Finally, he breathed deep, and pushed off the white chair he was perched on and slowly walked to the simulation chair.

Breathing deep, he shifted and lay on it, his small form perfectly conforming to the curve of the seat.

As he lay back, a clear white circular visor slid out and around his head, before starting. Nine labels appeared before him, but all but one was blank.

"What is…. Slender?"

The word left his lips, and the world turned white.

When it faded back in, he stood in a forest, the trees reaching up and into the dark sky. Izuku was sitting, with a flashlight on his lap.

Before him, a white screen with black text appeared.

Collect 100 Pages, Before The Slenderman catches you.

Record:

0/100

For a moment Izuku could only stare in confusion, before a deep staticy hiss began to echo from the forest. He could hear it, a faint almost imperceptible hiss that slowly grew louder as the menu shrunk. A beep from his wrist drew his attention, a watch he didn't previously have displaying a counter of time- 0:00:21- and pages- 0/100. As he watched the time tick on, he looked up at the darkness around him. And then the hissing sound grew louder.

"Oh. God."

He turned, looking through the trees around him for some hint of a path or direction. As he looked behind him, he blinked, and there, in the distance, a spot of pale color in the night. He squinted, focusing as he tried to take it in… it was a person? He blinked, and suddenly, far closer than it was, the shape had moved. Here he could see more.

A head, pale and blank…. A black suit… and long misshapen limbs…

The static moved louder, and Izuku flinched, only to see the figure had closed almost a third of the distance, and that now he could make out the way the form shifted and flickered as he focused on it.

"Yeah…. Nope!"

Turning, Izuku took off through the woods at a sprint.

As the static faded in and out, his panic only grew.

"Do you have your badge? Handkerchief? Tissues? Notebooks?" Inko worried her hands and glanced around even as Izuku looked up, a black single strap courier bag on the table as he slid the last few bits of gear away.

"Ma… I got it." he called out, giving a soft, if strained, smile.

He had been preparing for over a week, ever since his acceptance letter had arrived.

"Congratulations! You have passed the UA entrance exam with flying colors"

*Pft*

Izuku lowered the gun, breathing deeply and lifting the gun up in an effort to calm himself as the holographic image of a small mammal in a suit paused, before continuing its speech.

"Your exceptional combat skills, as well as your initiative and awareness in saving a fellow student and taking out a massive local threat, means you pass with the second highest score of this years examinees!"

A screen appeared, names and numbers denoting scores scrolling down.

He focused on the first two though.

'Katsuki Bakugo: 77 VIllain Points, 0 Rescue Points'

'Midoriya Izuku: 54 Villain Points, 20 Rescue Points'

"Now, I know of your recent experiences and trials, particularly of this last year, and would like to assure you. We at UA are ready and willing to help you any way we must. But you must come to us if you have issues. We also remind you that part of your admittance is that you must speak to a registered and approved therapist. Please come in a day early for us to finalize details as we go."

Izuku nodded absently, already pulling a pen and noting that down on the cluttered desk of notes and reminders.

"With that out of the way, I would like to welcome you to UA."

"This is your Hero Academia ."

Izuku blinked, dismissing the memory. Shrugging the bag up and over his back, it fit snugly against and around the white sword bag tied with a red and gold Fusahimo. The emblem of a yellow sun with reaching red beams was painted painstakingly across the center of the bag. A recognition of the NPC who originally taught Izuku the basics of swordplay.

At the thought, an image flashed to mind. White tunic and steel, flashing in the weak light of a dying sun.

Pushing it away, he tightened his bag to keep it from moving and headed for the door.

"Izuku!"

He paused.

"I… I'm proud of you. You know. For coming back to me… after everything."

Izuku felt his heart clench.

"I know… It's hard. That you aren't the same. But I am so, so proud of you. I know, that you will be an amazing hero."

Izuku hand steady, opened the door.

"Thanks… Mom."

Twin tear tracks traced down his cheeks, but he made not a sound, as he left the apartment.

He was at the base of the stairs soon enough, exiting onto the street and looking up at the bright and lively sun.

His eyes were dry.

He heaved a sigh and set his shoulders, hands pulling his earbuds from his pockets even as his eyes focused ahead of him. Looking up, his thoughts wandered back to the examiner from the entrance exam.

"Plus Ultra… I can get behind that."

In his eyes, an old spark flickered.

Bakugou leaned against the wall on a cold street corner, one hand in his pocket and scarf around his neck. On his phone, was a video. Just one part of a story among many. He had headed out from the house to get away from his nag of a mother for a few hours.

He tapped play.

Green eyes and hair filled the center of the screen, hands up with a handgun in one and a flashlight in the other. Sure and steady steps, a flash of light playing over ornate wallpaper and crown molding even in his gun slowly waved back and forth around the room.

To the side of the image, the scrawl of the chat, live at the time of the video recording, showed plenty of comments about being careful, or that the 'character' needed to get a move on.

A whistle, and a shambling step signaled a new figure. Black slacks and a once white shirt, now stained with blood and pus, leaned around the corner, half dead eyes looking up past a white film as they tracked to the teens light, the pupils not even twitching as the light met them.

Two bangs rang out, an eye vanishing in an explosion of gore, even as the mouth did the same. Black and red flesh blew across the wall behind it, the corpse collapsing to the ground slowly.

The green haired figure moved closer and stomped down, smashing the neck into paste with repeated kicks and solid boots even as the beam light danced around the room, the teen on high alert.

As the head separated from the body, he stopped, and glanced around. Green eyes caught the light with a manic glint, visible even through the screen as they stared out from a face covered with flecks of blood.

"I really hate this fucking mansion."

Breathing deep, Bakugou paused the video there and closed the fullscreen, a flash of the video's title coming up.

"The Simulation: Game 7.

Recorded Live: October 6th."

Katsuki breathed out, as the phone was slid away.

"Nine months and change…. What did you become nerd."

Chapter 3: Autosave is On

Summary:

So. Do you know those tags on this fic? the ones about horror and gore?

Yeah...

Consider this a reminder.

Chapter Text

Simulation: Hour 3:43:27

Slender.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Izuku chanted as he booked it, the fourth page already fading away in flakes of white dust in his hand as static once more filled his ears, deafening him. He kept catching glances, bits and pieces from the corner of his vision, a pale face flickering in the moonlight of the trees.

Suddenly, he tripped.

A root was raised, just high enough to catch his ankle, and a flash of sharp hot pain shot through him as he crashed into the ground, the flashlight bouncing and skittering away.

He gasped in pain, his ankle feeling wrong.

He groaned and shifted, trying to stand, only to scream in pain and collapse, tears welling in his eyes as the fire in his nerves took his breath away, leaving him gasping and shuddering. Fighting to lift his torso up so he was leaning against a tree, he glanced at his ankle.

In the pale moonlight, he could see pale, glistening blood and white bone.

He screamed.

Now

Izuku was… not fond of cars.

At all.

Trains were better. The rhythm, the control. They were on a rail, the path clear by default, and usually had a simple, if unorthodox, exit.

Cars were loud, chaotic, and driven by people who seemed perfectly ignorant of how bad they drove. And getting out was far more of a hassle, 'cause there were other cars to deal with.

Hiking his jackets lapels higher, he breathed through the faux fur of the collar and shook his head.

A hand in his pocket traced the familiar shape of his phone, tapping the subtle buttons on the side, and the music in his ears loudened. He had been working his way through years of music, going backwards in genre and release dates during his time in the simulation, and taking deep joy in finding his prefered tunes. Deep guitar and drums. Things with passion, with rage, with defiance...  Things he could relate to. From early millenium punk rock, through the neo-pop-punk of the early 2100's to the revival of classic death and hair metal that ran through America and parts of Japan just a few decades ago.

The music was also probably one of the only reasons he passed his English comprehension exam to get in UA, since he didn't get much help with talking in the simulation. All the other NPC and mobs spoke Japanese, despite the locations of several of the games.

Sighing softly, not that it was audible or visible behind the high collar of his cloak and the unmoving set of his shoulders as he leaned in the corner of the traincar, he let the music flow through him.

"I'm gonna fight 'em all. A seven nation army couldn't hold me back,"

He let his eyes flutter half closed. Trying to block out just how painfully aware of the world he still was.

" They're gonna rip it off. Taking their time right behind my back,"

There, three rows behind him, the girl with vines for hair was biting her lip, and he could hear the faint hiss of a muttered prayer as she scowled at her phone. She had a haptic feedback option on, the faint beep and hum of her button presses audible. It was harder to not instantly process what she was typing. That would be rude.

" And I'm talking to myself at night, because I can't forget,"

The three businessmen standing near the doors are talking finances. They work together, and are friends… but one of them is nervous. A tick of tapping his fingers on his suitcase latch.

Cheating? Flustered? Izuku shoved the thoughts away before they could confirm themselves, breathing deep as he tried to focus on the music.

"Back and forth through my mind, behind a cigarette,"

Izuku's eyes met with that of the blonde teen sitting sprawled out on the far side of the car. The black streaks in the shape of a lighting bolt were a give away, as was the faint feel of static electricity on the air. Natural, complementary mutation related to quirk. Electric user… recognizes me.

"And the message coming from my eyes,"

The door rings, this stop is one too soon, but he can walk and he was early anyway.

He's out the door in three seconds flat, the faint sound of the teen scrambling slightly behind him.

By the time the other teen reaches the door and looks out, the green haired survivor was long gone.

"Says leave it alone."

Simulation: Hour 3:50:27

Slender.

Run 1.

Izuku screamed again as he tried to reach down and push his bone back into place, eyes flashing white and black from the pain surging through him.

When he opened his eyes, he couldn't hear his screams.

All he could hear was static, as the featureless pale face leaned over him, see the sharp black suit underneath, the unrealistically tall proportions.

And then suddenly the face wasn't a smooth white plane.

Its pale skin, once marble smooth, began to writhe and distend, long rigid shapes pushing and twisting before its white facade began to rip and tear, carving pitch black and bright bloody red lines. Long lines stretching like loose stitching, revealing teeth and eyes and TEETH

Pain.

SO MUch PAin

Ripping

Teeth in flesh, in the throat even as thick and ice cold tendrils circles limbs and began to pull… Bone cracking with fireworks and explosions of pain that wiped away thought and action and left only the static fire of agony.

And then the world faded away, and he knew nothing mor–

Run Terminated by User Death,

Resetting avatar to safe room.

Death Count:

1

Izuku woke up screaming.

Now

The gates of UA stood open and, fingering the thin white and blue card in his pocket, Izuku crossed it, his senses slowly shifting and pinging off his surroundings. It's quieter than the street behind him, only a sparse half dozen people in his range of awareness. Most of them are students, sitting and conversing in shade of the trees or lounging in the courtyard of the building.

Walking up to the gleaming gateway of UA, he reaches down and lowers the volume of his earbuds once more, running fingers through his bangs as he slouches, minimizing his profile as he paces up the steps of the front door of UA.

A glance at a nearby evacuation map as he passes the corner all but burns the layout of the building into his mind,and instead of talking to the secretary at the front desk, he turns and follows his deep seated understanding, the faint draw to an objective he knew so well.

'Nedzu: the headmaster. Office should be near the teacher's lounge, upper floor. Best angle over the outer wall…'

It's a matter of minutes for him to follow the draw. A sign pointing to the teachers lounge, an elevator with a card scanner and a "teachers only" sign. The mental map of where the high ground is.

He steps out on the top floor of the wing and walks towards the front of the building, eyes catching on the dark hair and red glasses of someone walking his way, her face mostly hidden behind a stack of papers but the costume distinctive all the same..

' Midnight. 18+ heroine. AOE knockout. Distance is key. Gas is skin-originated. Abuse pres– NO. Hero. Not enemy. Relax. Focus past her.'

Izuku focused past her and down the hall, watching as the tension left and the world seemed to click back into motion as he finished his assessment.

He made it past her and blinked at the faint smell… sweet, almost like candy or sugar, but not the acrid burnt sugar smell of nitroglycerine that comes from Bakugou. The residue of the gas maybe? Something to consider.

He finally came to a stop at the door he was looking for. The 'Principal Nedzu' name plate confirming his intuition, and giving impetus to a twitched lip. Something that might be a smirk, if it was exaggerated a bit more.

Letting the emotion fade back under his shell, he reached up and knocked.

Nedzu sipped at his tea as he watched the green haired teen navigate the building, seemingly on instinct and vague guesses. The alert he had programmed to let him know when the young and recognizable form of Midoriya Izuku passed the gate with his ID card had gone off, the camera's focusing on the green haired teen walking to the building with a calm and even gait.

More interesting, was how the teen acted inside the building. Beyond a quick glance, the teen didn't even bother with the secretary, opting to wander himself. Signs of a lack of trust in authority, perhaps?

The only time that Midoriya-san's relaxed state was broken was in the hallway outside Nedzu's office. When he passed by Midnight, Nedzu had watched in interest as muscles had tensed, and empty eyes locked on the overburdened hero, the lines of his back and shoulders shifting to show readiness, before slowly unclenching as they passed.

"Interesting. Something in you recognized the danger of Midnight in a fight, even if you weren't planning to fight her. An instinctive response to strength and skill? Was it something about her that set it off? How curious," Nedzu remarked even as he began to tidy up, a new pot for tea being set on the heater as he closed out his surveillance app.

A knock rang out from the door.

"Come in, Mister Midoriya."

The door swung open, and Midoriya walked in, one hand tucked into the jacket and the other hanging loosely at his side.

"Principal Nedzu?" he asked, though he softened his intonation of the question. They both knew who each other was.

Nedzu grinned.

Simulation: Hour 4:23:20

Death count: 1

Izuku shuddered once more, sitting half naked in the bright utilitarian shower, the water above him– "Fake, its all fake" –pouring down steaming hot, the heat pulsing through his skin – "Torn, ripped and shredded and oh god it hurt!"– as he shivered and clutched tightly at unmarred flesh.

Slender.

The word… so innocent, so uninteresting.

Now it felt like poison in his mind, on his tongue, curling around his limbs and lungs and up his spine. Pale fingers pressing tight and digging into his muscles with terrifying force.

It had felt so real.

As he sat there, the sound of a click made him look up, the sound striking a chord of memory, the echo of school announcements and the soft static of an intercom.

"Oh, poor number nine. Look at you! Look at that face, that FEAR! Oh you are wonderful… a perfect experiment."

The chill deepened, but something in Izuku… shifted. Slightly. Barely coming into alignment.

"I can't wait to see you break and forge into your perfect self."

Loosely clenched hands began to tighten, nails digging into the flesh of his palms,   "–...break…?"

"But sadly, you can't seem to wake up, to get moving… and while I would love to walk you through it's time for little boys to grow up! So here's your choice, you either resume your attempts at the simulation… or I stop sending you back to this nice little break area when you die.  You have two hours to decide~!"

Fear began to make him shake, the fear of death, an endless undying existence was never something he considered, but now it paralyzed him except for the shaking uncontrollably shivering that he felt.

"And of course… if all else fails, I always track down and test your mother."

The shivering stopped cold.

A click, then silence. For one minute. Two. five. Ten. And then, slowly, the shape shifted.

A hand, knuckles pale and dripping red running out from shallow gouges across its palm, reached out from the waterlogged mass that was huddled still and silent. From under plastered dark green hair that shimmered like oil on water, two eyes gleamed out, filled not with anything as ethereal as hope, or joy.

No.

These eyes held, for the first time in his young life, hate.

True unfiltered hate.

Prove him wrong.

Silently, he rose from the shower, hands reaching up and peeling his soaked clothes off as he strode unsteadily towards the closet, grabbing a towel as he began to roughly scrub the water from his form.

Take everything he has ever made.

He had never realized how heavy hate could be. It wasn't that clenched-tight fear that wrapped his bones. It wasn't the deep chill of a death reversed that had clung to his lungs and pulse.

Take his dream.

No, this was a heavy, hot weight.

Take his mind.

It slid down his throat, taking his words with it.

His soul.

It settled in his gut, sinking into his stomach and heart with a deep heavy hum.

AND BURN IT TO THE GROUND.

A snarl, something animalistic, something goddamn primal exploded from his throat.

Hands shoved in the closet and searched through clothes as part of him burst into action. His mind, no longer paralyzed, looked at his options and discarded many out of hand. Too heavy, too loose, too easy to grap, not warm enough.

He pulled a long sleeved, thick black shirt with a green diamond pattern across the arms.

Black jeans, stretchy and thick to the touch.

A jacket, tan and heavy and with that smell of leather and oil.

Boots. solid soled and high topped. Bright red that seemed like a joke, like a goddamn concession to his style .

He shoved them on, damp hair pushed back from eyes to reveal a wild glint in them.

He slammed his fist on the door's button, a sharp stomp and stride to the podium.

The screen barely came alive when he swore the word:

"SLENDER."

And with that, he appeared in the forest, rage thumping in his chest.

He wanted Izuku to break?

Fuck. That.

As the first undercurrent of static began, Izuku was already running, boots thumping through the grass as the flashlight clicked on.

The world seemed etched in black and white, the thumping blood and his anger in his chest chasing the cold of the forest away.

He was going to find his way out of this simulation.

He was going to track down who put him here.

And then he was going to beat the asshole who threatened his mom to death with his bare hands.

Chapter 4: The Grind

Summary:

Closer and closer...

the Death count rises.

Chapter Text

Now

Izuku nursed his cup of tea, letting the aroma calm him.

Across from him, Nedzu did the same.

They had spoken softly for a while now. Pleasantries and idle gossip. Part of him found comfort in this. It was soft, and quiet, and Nedzu was polite enough not to mention the fact he had cased the entire room four times, had frozen up twice when bad memories had hit him, and had been fairly useless in providing any sort of current gossip.

However, as he now finished his fourth cup of tea, and Nedzu set his fifth aside, the tone began to change.

"So, as you are aware, Mister Midoriya, we have several topics to cover before you're paperwork can be finalized?"

"I understand. I would have… concerns, as well." Izuku looked down and felt his lips quirk in a smirk somewhere between sarcastic and resigned.

"First, I believe, is the topic of therapy. As part of the ongoing recovery process you are engaged in, Hound Dog will be taking over for your therapy sessions. Considering that you've gone through four other therapists in a very short month of meetings, that's been far easier than we expected. The paperwork was finalized yesterday, and both of you will have scheduled meetings twice a week."

"That's more than acceptable."

"Please, don't break Hound Dog."

"I will… endeavor not to."

Nedzu gave a gimlet start with a spark of humor at the cagey response, but let it drop.

"Second. You need to outfit yourself with non-lethal options. As well as speak with a support agent. Power Loader has thankfully volunteered, and will be available after our meeting. As per the court agreement about lethal force in the hands of heroes, and heros and training oh… 74 years ago, you need to have a nonlethal variant of any weaponry you use with any regularity. From guns to swords to explosives. We have a few designs prepped for your inspection, and if I remember, you had a request for something special?"

"Yeah. A tool from the games. I figure I have enough know-how to get it working, even if only barely."

"Wonderful. And I suppose you'll also want an input on your weapons' final designs."

Izuku merely nodded, eyes drifting to the sun sigil of the blade bag resting against the wall.

"There's a few memories I would rather not tarnish."

He didn't look at Nedzu, letting the principal make his own judgment without his input.

"Of course."

From there it was merely minutia. A clarification on a few relevant rules, a bit of a modification to a few time periods, and a note in his files that he was currently suffering from several traumas and a list of responses for if he was… particularly unstable.

"Ah, and with that I do believe our agreement is finalized. If you do have issues or requests, my door is often open. Though, I would prefer you check with the secretary next time," Nedzu called out once more as Izuku stood and headed for the door, slinging his blade back across his shoulders.

"Your secretary needs better sightlines if you want that to happen," Izuku mused, a sardonic twitch of the shoulders all but shouting his amusement to the headmaster.

As the door closed, the two parted.

Simulation: Day 6 Hour 7:23:20

Death count: 43

"FUCCCCKKKKK YOUUUUUU!!!!"

Izuku flipped off the flickering form of Slender as he dove from the roof, the reaching white hands recoiling in what looked like anger and frustration as Izuku grunted and rolled off a window awning and slammed onto a car roof, hand triumphantly holding one of the more annoying pages, the white paper flaking away as his counter ticked up from 89 to 90.

A week.

A week of running and exploring and grabbing those goddamn papers. His initial rage had long since cooled and banked under the sheer frustration and exhaustion he felt. Beyond that, he still felt… cold, and sore from his simulated deaths. Each one had been immensely painful, the feeling of torn flesh and burrowing tendrils echoing when he tried to relax. His kind demeanor and his smile had been ripped away due to the effort it took to maintain. Pain and anger, and his hate was now focused and loud, augmented by years of insults learned from bullies and his childhood friend, and expressed on the most immediate target.

That pale motherfucker.

The forest he had first appeared and died in, was only part of what had to be a five-kilometer to a side square, surrounded by a sheer five-meter tall smooth wall. In this was a forest, a place that looked like a small rural town, and a series of complexes and industrial locations that appeared almost copy-pasted.

But the papers were what really pissed him off.

He had learned quickly that while there were set locations for the papers to spawn, there were far more locations than there were papers, and placement was randomized. Beyond that, some of the pages were placed in… some annoying locations.  Ledges outside windows, stuck on top of flagpoles, pinned inside cars, hanging from roof awnings.

Izuku had to learn, quickly, how to take a fall and get the highest and farthest leaps he could, often ending runs with broken legs and shattered arms as Slender closed in.

His neck still ached some days from the memory of falling off a roof head first and not surviving.

As he rolled off the car, biting back a groan as he felt his back begin to bruise from the impact, he took off running.

'90 pages. Already cleared the south half of the forest, the farmstead, and the city. That leaves the industrial complex. 10 more pages. Just 10 more!'

Boots on concrete echoed as he ran down the center of the street, arms pumping as he kept low. A hiss of static from his right and he dodged, long white arms swinging from around the corner of a truck, Izuku's eyes meeting the blank face as a white fingertip caught his shoulder, leaving deep bloody gashes in his arm.

Hissing through his teeth, Izuku twisted out of reach, eyes darting back ahead of him as he lowered his torso and dug deep, sprinting down the street.

The static once more filled his ears, and he bit back a curse as the flickering form of Slender shifted ahead of him.

"Oh fuck you."

Running forwards, Izuku dodged once more, dancing past, before diving into the forest. Hearing the beginning of a scream that seemed composed of overwrapping static sounds.

'Ten pages. Just ten more.'

Now

Izuku stepped down the fairly barren hall of the support wing of the building, feeling that slow tension build in his bones. There wasn't a threat, he knew that. But the signs on the walls that talked about safety rules and regulations...  as his eyes roved over them, he could feel the memories creep back in. There had been a few places where warnings like these were next to dangerous things. And for a moment he could hear the monstrous screams echoing down metal hallways…. And then he shook his head, dispersing the memory.

Eventually, his footsteps took him to the door he was looking for: "Power Loader" was written in large letters across the door plaque. He knocked, some part of him tensing, waiting for a response.

"Door's open, come on in," came a muffled yell from behind the door, and Izuku complied, pushing through the doorway. The clean empty designs of the hall vanished as he stepped into a classroom of desks, the far wall replaced by a rolling garage door that was opened into what must have been the support labs. At the desk across the classroom area, a shorter man dressed in a blue and white mechanic's jumpsuit stood with a tablet in hand. His face was exposed, but his eyes were hidden by the loose curtain of bright orange hair that hung almost to his shoulders. Eyes darting, Izuku glanced at his hands, spotting the bright iron gleam of his fingertips.

"I was told you were expecting me?"

Power Loader shifted, a pale blue eye glancing up through his bangs as he took in Izuku. "Ah, yes. Nedzu mentioned you needed some gear. He said you had a few ideas? Oh, and ignore the mess. One of our new students has gotten a head start on using the facilities." Power Loader led the way through the garage door into the crowded workshop, past piles of half-assembled pieces of gear and robot components. In the corner, a half disassembled arm that looked awfully like that of the 0-pointer hung from the roof.

"Looks busy," Izuku commented, eyes clocking corners and checking angles even as he wandered behind the teacher, hands tensing and flexing in his jacket pockets.

"Ah, yeah. The start of year resupply and fix up. New materials, tools, and general supplies come in and I spend several weeks running the new kids through basic doctrine on the remains of the entrance exam robots. Saves me time and the school money." As they turned a corner around a 10-foot tall stack of sheet metal, the still mostly clean back end of the shop came into view. Sparks flew from behind a divider to the side, but Izuku focused on the large slowly spinning holographic blueprints of a 0-pointer floating in the center of the space.

Realizing he should say… something, he spoke up. "Cool."

"Indeed it is. Now, you have files for me to use as a base?"

Nodding Izuku reached up and held out a thumb drive.

"Wonderful. Now, let's see about getting you that equalizer you asked for."

The thumb drive was plugged in, and the 0-pointer design vanished. A few taps on the tablet and a list of files appeared.

Each was opened, 3D models of every weapon appearing in the air. Each one was specific dimensions and weights, all modified and adjusted. The digital models of things that he had recovered from the computers he was trapped in.

Izuku's eyes glanced over, past the three guns designs floating next to him and the teacher, and beyond the half designed suit of armor pieces he had been pulling together from a set of files over the last month.

Instead, he focused on the last two weapons, specifically the smaller one, one which was far more detailed than the simple blade across his back.

Floating, it looked simple, but he could see the details. Embossed symbols and carefully wrapped leather. A worn blade, but solid. Durable.

On the pommel, the sun emblem gleamed. Just looking at it he could almost hear the shout...

"Jolly Cooperation!"

"Well now. The guns are easy enough. I can print and fabricate the parts here, though I'll need to register them and you. Snipe owes me a favor for that. As for the armor… it needs some work. I'm betting it goes with your hero suit?"

"Yeah."

"And the last two… hmm... I know of a guy who can get that sword worked out, but it'll take some time. That half-assed hunk of junk you got gonna last that long?"

Izuku grimaced, remembering how he had literally ground it out of a bar of steel and that the edge was already chipping. "It's poor quality, but it'll last for a few weeks if I don't stress it."

Nodding, the hero leaned in at the last item. More specifically the digital notes attached that floated near it. "Sheesh. That's one hell of design modification. Gonna take me some time to get that worked ou–"

"I can do that!"

The hero jumped, while Izuku's eyes merely shifted and rested on the girl he had felt coming up next to him. Bright cross-haired gold eyes and braided pink hair focused on the holograms, before darting his way with tangible excitement. "I can help set most of this up, I know how!"

"Dammit girl, make some noise. And you're not in class yet." Power Loader turned on the girl as he recovered from the surprise.

"But I can help, while you finish the class schedule, the roster placement, and the 32 orders you need to supervise! I can handle the armor and the modified weapon!"

Power Loader folded his arms, blue eyes glaring at gold from underneath his auburn hair, before flicking to Izuku. "...Up to you kid. You're the client. You get a say here."

The girl rounded, blinking as gold met green. A long moment of silence, Izuku gazing at her and keeping a blank face, while she slowly began to fidget under his cool gaze.

Finally, he swung his hand from his pocket, holding it out.

"Midoriya Izuku. And you?"

She jumped and blinked before smacking her hand into his and shaking excitedly.

"Hatsume Mei!"

"Well. Nice to meet my new support tech. I trust you to keep up." he grinned, as the girls eyes flashed with an inner fire.

She would do just fine.

Simulation: Day 6 Hour 8:02:11

Death count: 43

Izuku's breath was a death rattle, blood dripping from behind his teeth as he staggered one more step.

He could see it. Across the from him, on a car door where it was parked in the middle of the dirt road that crossed the clearing.

Page 100

He wasn't going to make it.

He glanced back, wincing as the sheer act made him dizzy, eyes latching on the dark stains that lingered amidst the grass and across trees.

' Blood loss and exhaustion.'

He had been so close.

But then Slender stopped hunting him, stopped following and waiting for him, and started playing with him.

He could feel the burn of the claw marks that stretched across his back and around his sides, feel the warm rivers of blood that cooled and glued cloth to skin.

He staggered, and collapsed, trying to brace himself before he hit the ground, but with only his left arm still attached, and his right arm reduced to a bloody stump, he wasn't able to stop himself. He hit the ground with a choked off scream and a spray of blood from his mouth.

'Something broke when I hit that tree. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. Lungs?'

The static was still there, on the edge of his perception, but instead of the incomprehensible drone it once was… now it rose and fell sharply.

Slender was laughing.

The white hand appeared, skin writhing as it reached down and almost gently caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes, trying to force back the well of hopelessness and rage that burned in him, mixing with the haze of pain and blood loss.

And then he choked, the hand tight around his throat as he was yanked up, breathing stopped as his throat struggled against the cool stone-like grip.

His eyes shot open, just in time to see the pale face writhe and begin to split.

Teeth. Millions of small writhing teeth.

Death Count: 44

Chapter 5: Tutorial

Summary:

Ingenuity and Endurance can meet any quirk.

Tenya glanced around, taking in the early morning as he paced himself towards the still quite astonishing shape of UA, feeling his chest tighten in pride and excitement at the fact he was on his way to making his brother proud of him. With pride and vigor, he pushed through the gate, and the front doors. With confident steps, he passed through the halls, having already memorized the UA floor plan to find his class.

Class 1-A.

He took in the gleaming tile of the halls, the bold and clean walls and structures and smiled.

And then he reached his classroom, and paused.

The door was cracked open, but the room beyond had the lights off, only the faint gleam of the morning sun lighting the room from within. Blinking, he marched up and glanced through, leaning past the threshold in curiosity.

The light-on-dark contrast of the room cast details in shadow, but he could see that on the windowsill, the glass panels shoved open to let in the morning light and air, a young teen sat.

For a moment, Tenya took in the familiar clean-cut shape of the UA male uniform, and a hair of loose lanky green curls that hung down past the teens eyes, gleaming in the sunlight. His uniform was clean and well pressed, though with a red bowtie instead of a necktie. Beyond that, what caught his eye was the blade at his side, clasped to a utility belt stretched over his costume. For a split second, his mind ran through the rules, and, even as he was recognizing the teen, he was moving arms up and gesturing as he eyed the teen in the window.

His quirk speeding him up, he passed through the classroom in less than a second, shouting loudly as he approached.

"YOU! Swords are not allowed in a classroom setting-"

He froze, breath caught and a cold sweat on his brow.

The ground and sharpened point of the blade was resting just below his adam's apple.

Green eyes, suddenly dark and cold with the sunlight behind them to contrast, focused on Iida's red eyes. There was a glimmer of surprise, hidden among grim amusement and annoyance. "Don't… shout. The sword… is an exemption. Part of my condition to attend. Same with a... variety of other gear." The blade, which Iida could now see had a thin metal attachment to blunt the edge pulled away even as Iida swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He had seen the teen startle, but he barely caught the path of the blade as it was drawn back and then slammed forwards, up and under his guard, and around his half-raised arms.

If it hadn't stopped, it would have killed him.

"I… apologize for my sudden assault and my volume." With the distance shortened, he could make out the teen's features, the pale skin and smattering of thick freckles across his cheeks clear as day. With the addition of that soft and ragged voice, Iida now recognized him as the boy from the entrance exam.

'So he made it in here too…'

"...Don't charge me again and we'll be just fine." A flicker of motion, the faint sound of leather on steel, and the blade was sheathed once more.

Crossing his arms loosely, the teen returned to staring out the window, and Iida could make out the front gate from where the teen sat.

'Okay, let's try this again.'

"My name is Iida Tenya. Pleased to make your acquaintance!" he held out his hand to shake, and the teen glanced back, face half-shadowed in the lack of sun.

A quick grasp, wrist to wrist, and a muttered name was all his response, before the green haired teen looked away once more.

Iida paused, sighed, and turned back to find a seat.

'Midoriya Izuku… what a strange guy.'

Bakugou growled as he marched through the door to 1-A. Gaze darting from person to person even as he beelined to a familiar place, the dead center of the classroom. Close enough to hear and be heard by anyone else. He had already clocked everyone in the class, judging them all to be worthless.

Tossing his bag under the seat, he crashed into it, focusing on the board and the door for the teacher and putting any thought of his classmates out of his mind.

Or that was the plan.

"Relax, Kacchan. We got five minutes until the teacher shows."

The words were off-hand, the speaker barely talking and clearly not focused as Bakugou's head tilted, catching sight of dark hair and a pen as a text book was slowly defaced behind him.

Glancing back, he tried to stop grinding his teeth at the sudden feeling of 'Danger' behind him.

Five minutes to the dot later, as the last of the class nervously filed in, the door opened to a tall, lean man with a black jumpsuit, with a yellow bundle of some sort in his hand which he tossed behind the teacher's desk as he glanced around, eyebrow raised.

"Hmm… got quiet in five seconds. That's logical. Saves me time." He pulled a box out of his desk. "Here. UA gym uniforms. Gym's on the first floor, follow me and change into them. We're testing you all before lunch." "Uh, Sir?" a boy with sharp teeth and red spikey hair raised his hand. "What about orientation and the opening ceremony?"

"I don't care for them. Pro Heroes don't have time for pageantry like that. And students who want to be pro have even less. Get a move on."

The class paused, but even as Bakugou scrambled to his feet, Deku had already darted past, feet silent on the tile in red high-tops and his sword tucked and held close to avoid contact.

By the time Katsuki was up, had his gym clothes, and had taken off after the teacher, Izuku was shadowing the taller man with a silent grace.

Ten minutes later, he was still trying to adjust to the loose jumpsuit, and glancing around the field he and the rest of the class was standing in.

"Welcome, to your quirk assessment tests."

Simulation: Day 12 Hour 13:41:00 Death count: 59

Izuku crouched, landing as he began the simulation once more. He had barely touched down, when his boots dug into the soft topsoil, and he shoved off.

His flashlight was turned off and tossed in his pocket, never even turned on, his eyes already adjusting to the dark of the forest as he took a split second to orient himself in the map.

"South… west. Not bad, could be better. Clear the forest first." His muttering was soft, barely perceptible in the dark forest. He caught the faintest echo of the sound of static, but he was already heading the way he needed to. In seconds, he saw the first page, pinned to a large tree in the middle of a clearing. He passed it and ripped it free without stopping, letting it float and dissolve in the clearing, even as he exited it on his way to his next stop.

"1."

The static picked up, ever so slightly.

Izuku ignored it.

He had pages to find.

Now.

Uraraka glanced over at the teen who had helped her in the entrance exam. The softball in his hand. Bakugou's massive explosion, that girl, (Yao- something?) had flat out fired it from a canon, and Ochako herself had floated it into space.

She watched as the teen grabbed the ball in his off hand, tossing it gently as he drew his sword in his right.

A toss to gauge the weight, another to get the feel of it, and on the third he tossed it far straight up, and as it fell he twisted, the blade coming around in two hands, the flat of the metal impacting the ball with a loud crack as it took off into the distance.

"153 meters. Next."

She blinked. The teacher wasn't gonna comment on Izuku's gear? Or his lack of quirk? Regardless, she shot a smile his way at the fact he was fairly middle of the pack in distance of the ball.

Simulation: Day 12 Hour 14:11:03 Death count: 59

"14." The count was to keep track, to keep focused.

"15," to distract from pain. To ignore fear.

A burst of static, a reaching claw, and a duck.

The static screeches behind him.

His hands rip through white paper once more.

"16."

Now

Kirishima growled to himself, arms pumping up and down as he pushed himself to the limit. Hardening didn't help with this. If it was planks it would be great but hardened muscles wouldn't make his actions smoother, wouldn't help him keep his arms pumping and blood flowing past the burn.

Across from him, his partner for this test was doing the same, green hair tied loosely back in a knot above his scalp with a stray bit of leather cord, his sword just above his fingertips as the teen moved up and down in a smooth consistent arc. No wasted motion, no uneven breathing, no hesitation. Kirishima had been trying to match that pace, but even now, almost ten minutes into it, the two of them pushing up and down, he was more than a dozen counts behind, and falling more behind with every minute.

"Ten minutes are up. Counts?"

"312, Sir." Kirishima bit out as he pushed himself to his feet, looking up to help…. Only for the other teen to already be up and with his sword buckled at his side.

"354."

'The fuck? Forty-two more than me? So manly.'

"Good. Next!"

Simulation: Day 12 Hour 14:56:11 Death count: 59

Duck past the open window, so Slender can't reach out and grab him.

Leap off the car hood, roof, and that awning to snag the one on the flagpole.

"34."

Use the flagpole to reach the roof and leap to the next building, snagging that one before Slender can reset to gra- duck and roll, dropping to the lower part of the roof.

Those fingers brushed past his hair, he could feel it. Ignore it though. Grab the next paper to clear the factory grounds.

"35."

Now

Shoji grinned behind his face mask, the 540kg was the highest score so far, and as he watched the green haired teen step up, he expected to see maybe a 50.

Then a bracelet of paracord was undone, and several sharp twists later, the green haired teen was pulling with his full body movement to tighten a noose around the sensor grips, Shouji had to admit, the ingenuity was great and the effectiveness was not to be doubted, considering the display read a score of 156kg.

But seriously. What was this kid's quirk? He hadn't seen it yet, and he had been paying attention to everyone this entire time. The eyes on his shoulders weren't for show, after all.

Simulation: Day 12 Hour 15:35:12 Death count: 59

"Fuck."

Izuku gazed at the next, and last, page in the city part of the map.

A dead end alley.

With a concrete back wall.

He glanced around and noted that Slender had vanished, but the sound of static was rising louder and louder.

"No choice. Fuck."

He booked it down the alley, the sound of static beginning the goddamn laughter.

Again.

Izuku reached the paper and tore it off, but did not stop moving.

The wall was 12 feet tall, made of smooth brickwork with clean, smooth corners. But as he lept, his boots caught on the surface, for just a second. Just long enough for his leg to kick off, for his body to rise, for that haunting laughter to change to a shriek of static rage as he grasped the top edge and with all his might, dragged himself up. The form of Slender appeared at the end of the alley, where he had apparently decided to trap and torment Izuku.

"90, you motherfucker."

'And I know where the last 10 are already.'

He leapt across the rooftops as the static screech began to deafen him, ringing in his ears.

'There's only one place left to go.'

He stared off into the forest, the faint lights of the trainyard of shipping containers bright and clear in the distance.

Now

Aizawa glanced at his clipboard as the second-to-last exercise, the long jump, came to a close.

"12 laps, 5km endurance run. Go."

With various groans of discontent, the mass of students lined up, and on his whistle took off.

Some took the lead immediately. Bakugou Katsuki with a blast of force, Iida Tenya with a whir of engines and exhaust, and Yaoyorozu Momo on a solar bike she formed quickly. With Todoroki Shouto keeping pace on a path of ice as he skated along.

But between the rest of them and the fastest, one could be seen pulling ahead of the pack of the slowest. Keeping pace and pulling ahead of the large leaps of Asui Tsuyu and the sliding acid trail of Mina Ashido.

Green hair. Sword strapped to his back for ease of motion, and footsteps at an easy and consistent pace. If he focused on the teen's emotionless expression and reserved body language, it almost looked like he was going for a morning jog, if not for the sheer speed and power used in each step. Despite the slender stature of its taker, he covered ground with sharp movements, kicking off and sending himself forwards with an aggressive and almost unbelievable pace.

By the time the first of the teens passed the 5km mark, Iida having lapped the slowest of the teens almost twice, and as the rest of them lagged behind with exhaustion, Izuku had caught up and passed Bakugou and was passing Todoroki, much to the dismay of both.

Marking down the time, Aizawa began to calculate the places and averages for everyone, and blinked as the fourth name belonged to Midoriya Izuku.

'Not bad kid.'

Simulation: Day 12 Hour 16:00:01 Death count: 59

Blood splattered the ground, the pain pushed aside and ignored as Izuku rolled to his feet, eyeing the last of the pages. The 99th page, splattered with blood from a gash across Izuku's shoulder, faded away.

The static was ever present, constant, and Angry.

"There you are." The white form of Slender, already twitching and shifting, stood tall in between him and the last page. They were both in the dead center of the trainyard, blocked in on two sides by towering walls of shipping containers, and the concrete wall of the storage yard on the far side.

In the center of the area, the page hung pinned to a forklifts side.

Reaching up, Izuku kept eye contact with Slender, even as he grabbed the torn sides of his black shirt and ripped it open, his jacket having been sacrificed minutes ago to give him an escape. His torso was lacerated, long red lines across his chest, back, and arms. Close calls and last minute dodges of the last half hour leaving clear marks.

Holding the bundled shirt in his hands, he ripped a sleeve off and folded it up, placing it in his mouth and holding the rest in his grasp. He shifted his feet back and set his stance, crouching low like a sprinter.

Slender opened his arms, as if inviting him to try, the skin shifting with ridged membranes that writhed and squirmed under the pale white masquerade of flesh.

The static reached a feverish pitch.

And Izuku moved.

10 meters between him and victory.

Each step echoed off the metal walls, each breath, muffled as it was by cloth, was sharp, and as Slender flickered, moving to intercept, Izuku pivoted and lept at the wall.

Slender reappeared mid-swing, arm cutting past him, as he gritted his teeth and twisted, throwing his arm out to meet the attack.

A splatter of blood.

A supernova of pain that made him almost black out, biting into and almost through his cloth gag.

A rising laughter in the static...

And then Izuku was there.

He didn't even wait to fumble and grab at the paper, instead he threw his fist forwards, punching through the entire glass and the page itself with his left arm, while his right shoulder pumped red blood to the ground around him, ragged muscle and a splintered section of bone gleaming in the moonlight..

Behind him, Slender went from amused… to furious.

And then the static stopped.

Izuku glanced back to see the white humanoid form shift and twitch, limbs bending and twitching as it staggered, then collapsed. His right arm still held triumphantly in its grasp. Coughing, he spit the gag out, even as he turned to lean against the forklift with heavy breathing.

Lifting the bundled shirt that had protected him from the window, he shook it, shards of glass dancing to the ground as he unwound it and pressed it to his stump.

"SIMULATION ONE: COMPLETE. FINAL TIME: 12:16:05:00"

Staggering over, Izuku glanced around as the simulation began to dissolve around him. He glanced down at the still convulsing pile of white flesh and sighed.

"Go fuck yourself."

He turned away and looked to see the simulation fade.

And just before he felt the familiar rush of an ending simulation, but without the same blinding pain and muffled thoughts, a notification appeared.

'Slender complete. Notebook function unlocked.'

And then he blinked, finding himself once more uninjured, laying on the simulation podium in the room.

For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling as the glass visor receded into the podium.

"I did it."

And then he began to laugh.

"I beat Slender!"

Now

Izuku stretched as he slid his gear into the locker, pulling his school uniform back out and sliding it on as the faint murmur of the rest of the locker room echoed.

"Man, I can't believe that whole expulsion thing was a ruse, I thought for sure you were out of there, Mineta!" That was the electric haired blonde, who apparently hadn't paid enough attention to recognize Izuku's name yet.

"I know! God, that was terrifying." The shorter teen with the strange hair was shivering.

Izuku almost wanted to scoff, but held it in. Terrifying? That test was easy. He reached in and grabbed his sheathed sword from next to him hooking the buckle on his belt with a smooth click.

Sighing at the weight of his hair, still damp from a shower, he pulled it all back into a small knot at the base of his skull, leaving a few curly ragged bangs unbound.

Swinging the locker closed with a smooth click, he pulled the bowtie around his neck and began to tie it. He was about to leave when he caught the eye of the dichromatic teen who had ranked just above him in the exercise.

Izuku narrowed his eyes at the impassive glare of the other teen, before with a sharp tug he finished the bowtie. Walking past him towards the exit of the showers, he paused, hands in his pocket and shoulder to shoulder with Todoroki.

"Problem?" The question was soft and sharp.

"...No." The reply was coolly reserved, and Todoroki proceeded to glance away.

With that, Izuku kept walking, and as he pushed out into the hall beyond the changing rooms, he reached up and popped his neck.

'I wonder what your problem is… Todoroki. And why you decided to lie to my face about it.'

A tap of his fingers on the leather-wrapped hilt, and Izuku shook his head. He could hear the last of the boys finishing up and they would be right behind him. With smooth steps, he headed back to the classroom, eyes half-lidded in thought.

Perhaps… there were threats here as well.. Just far more subtle.