Chapter 19: Blaze of Glory
The giant gate of Practice Center B towered over Izuku Midoriya like a steel colossus, its surface gleaming under the February sun. Beyond it sprawled a massive mock city a sprawling replica of urban chaos, just like he'd seen in the anime buildings jutting up in jagged rows, streets twisting into shadowed alleys. U.A.'s practical exam was about to begin, and Izuku stood at the forefront of his group, a confident smirk tugging his lips. I got ten minutes I should grab the needed points within that period. he thought, flexing his hands. This is my stage, let's burn it down.
Around him clustered familiar faces examinees he'd clocked from the anime, now flesh and blood. Tenya Iida stood ramrod straight, glasses glinting as he adjusted his stance, ready to bolt. Ochaco Uraraka bounced lightly beside him, her round cheeks flushed with nervous excitement. Mezo Shoji loomed nearby, his multi-armed frame silent and imposing. Hanta Sero fidgeted with his tape-dispensing elbows, muttering to himself. And then there was Yuga Aoyama sparkling blond hair, flamboyant pose, a laser-ready navel peeking from his shirt. Izuku's gaze lingered on him, sharp and knowing. Aoyama, he thought. All For One's spy, traitor in the making. Shiny on the outside, sneaky underneath. Gotta watch him later. For now, though, it was game time Bakugo was off in another center, leaving Izuku free to dominate here.
The speakers crackled, and Present Mic's voice boomed across the field, loud and electric. "Alright, listeners Practice Center B, you're UP! Ready to ROCK? Okay START!" No countdown, no warning just pure, chaotic go-time, exactly as Izuku remembered.
He didn't hesitate. Fire flared in his palms hot, orange, honed from Hisashi's training he propelling himself forward like a rocket. The gate blurred past as he launched into the city, flames trailing behind, a grin splitting his face. I'm not wasting a second those points are mine! The other examinees froze, confusion etching their faces Uraraka's mouth dropping, Iida's glasses tilting until Present Mic's voice cut through again. "What're ya waiting for, heroes? No time to waste in a villain attack take action NOW! GO, GO, GO!"
That snapped them awake. Iida's engines roared, propelling him into a sprint. Uraraka dashed forward, hands poised. Shoji, Sero, and Aoyama followed, scattering into the streets, but Izuku was already ahead, a streak of fire cutting through the urban maze. Let 'em catch up, he thought, soaring over a rooftop. I'm setting the pace.
The first robot loomed a one-pointer, clunky and metallic, its red eye swiveling toward him. Izuku smirked, telekinesis snapping out like a whip. The bot lifted, ten feet, twenty, dangling helpless as he conjured a fireball tight, red-hot and hurled it. The flame punched through its chest, metal sizzling, and he released his grip. It crashed down, sparking and shattered one point. "Too easy," he muttered, banking left as a two-pointer rolled into view, its arms whirring with blades.
He dove, fire flaring under his feet for speed, and hit it with both Quirks telekinesis yanking it skyward, a flame spear piercing its core midair. The bot exploded in a shower of sparks, raining debris as he landed, unscathed. Two more, he thought, eyes scanning. A trio of three-pointers lumbered up hulking, tank-like, their cannons swiveling. Jackpot.
Izuku grinned, adrenaline surging. He thrust both hands out, telekinesis wrapping all three tons of steel groaning as they lifted, higher, higher thirty feet up. Flames coiled in his palms, merging into a blazing ring, Hisashi's lessons echoing: Shape it, control it. He spun the ring, tightening it, then flung it upward. It sliced through the bots like a buzzsaw metal shearing, circuits frying before he let them drop. The ground shook as they smashed into rubble, nine points racking up in seconds. That's how you multi-task, he thought, wiping sweat. Fast and clean .
He flew higher, perching on a building ledge, fire simmering as he scanned the chaos below. Robots swarmed dozens still active and examinees scrambled into the fray. He'd hit 30 points in the first minute, then 50, 70, tearing through waves with telekinesis lifts and fire blasts sometimes dropping bots for flair, sometimes melting them midair. By minute five, he'd clocked 100, a smug certainty settling in. That would be enough I guess let's watch, he thought, sitting cross-legged on the edge, cap tilted back. Let's see what they've got.
Below, Ochaco Uraraka floated a two-pointer with a tap her gravity Quirk in full swing then released it, letting it crash into a pile of scrap. Smart, Izuku thought, nodding. Same drop trick as me just softer. Tenya Iida streaked through, engines blazing, smashing a three-pointer with a precise kick metal crumpling under his speed. Mezo Shoji grappled a one-pointer, extra arms ripping it apart like tinfoil. Hanta Sero swung from a tape line, lassoing a two-pointer and yanking it into a wall crash. Then Yuga Aoyama strutted up, hips cocked, firing a dazzling laser from his navel—blue light slicing a three-pointer clean in half. Flashy as hell, Izuku thought, eyes narrowing. Fits the spy vibe hiding in plain sight.
Near a wrecked storefront, Uraraka paused, panting, and glanced up at Izuku's perch. "That guy he's insane!" she said, nudging Iida as he skidded to a stop beside her. "He's flying around, lifting robots like nothing did you see that ring thing?"
Iida adjusted his glasses, frowning. "Indeed, his Quirk control is exceptional! Fire propulsion and telekinesis, seamlessly combined. He's amassed points at an alarming rate reckless, perhaps, but effective." He chopped the air, voice firm. "We must focus our scores depend on swift action, not gawking!"
"Yeah, but wow," Sero cut in, reeling in his tape as he joined them, staring up. "He's not even breaking a sweat lifted three at once and torched 'em! That's pro-level stuff kinda scary."
Shoji rumbled nearby, arms crossed. "Efficient, he doesn't waste moves. Fire's precise, telekinesis is strong. He's hunting points like it's a game."
Aoyama twirled, smirking as his laser cooled. "A rival with flair! Such power, such poise though my sparkle still shines brightest, non?" He posed, but his eyes flicked to Izuku, a glint of calculation behind the dazzle. Keeping tabs, huh? Izuku thought, smirking back. Play your part.
Uraraka laughed, shaking her head. "He's crazy good, makes me wanna step it up! Did he just sit down up there? He's done already?" She floated another one-pointer, dropping it with a crunch, determination sparking.
Izuku watched, legs dangling off the ledge, flames flickering idly in his hand. They're scrambling, he thought. Uraraka's got guts, Iida's all rules, Aoyama's hiding something typical crew. He'd smashed his 100-point goal bots reduced to slag and scrap across half the city leaving plenty for the others. No need to hog it all, he mused. My score is locked and now I scout. His fire flared briefly, a tight orb hovering, then snuffed out control perfect, confidence unshaken.
The clock ticked on, robots thinning as examinees fought Uraraka's drops, Iida's kicks, Aoyama's lasers painting the streets. Izuku stayed perched, a king on his throne, smirk steady. Four years to get here, he thought. This is just the warm-up. Number one Hero that's the real prize.