….
[Unforeseen Simulation Joint (USJ) - Training Facility]
Right in their first week of school, the U.A. High already began to take their first years students through various training simulations. And one of the is–
USJ Training Facility.
The day had started normally enough.
Class 1-A had boarded the bus to the USJ for rescue training with Thirteen and their homeroom teachers. The students were excited - this was their first major off-campus training exercise.
Still a little pale from the bus journey, Dabi stood beside Aizawa at the front of the facility, scanning the massive dome structure.
Different disaster zones spread out before them: shipwreck, landslide, fire, mountain, flood. Each designed to simulate real rescue scenarios.
His system panel flickered in his vision:
====
[SUPER SOLDIER] - 91/100%
====
The percentage had remained stuck for weeks, refusing to budge.
He had pushed himself harder than ever - training, fighting, testing his limits - but [91%] seemed to be a wall he couldn't break through.
Though it didn't matter right now. Today was supposed to be simple training, or at least it was meant to be.
….
When the purple vortex tore open the fabric of space in the center plaza, Dabi didn't flinch.
He felt a grim sense of relief - Finally.
Right then, dozens of figures emerged from the portal - villains, based on their varied appearances and aggressive postures.
"Thirteen! Protect the students!" Aizawa's capture weapon unfurled from his neck.
But Dabi was already moving, recognizing the purple mist immediately - Kurogiri, the teleportation villain capable of scattering the students across the facility and leaving them isolated and vulnerable.
Can't let that happen.
Blue flames erupted around Dabi's hands as he launched himself over the railing, a straight drop to the plaza below, using bursts of fire to slow his descent.
Kurogiri's yellow eyes tracked his movement. "How impres—"
Dabi's fist, wreathed in concentrated blue flame, connected with the mist-body before the villain could finish speaking.
The fire was hot enough that even Kurogiri's gaseous form recoiled, his portal destabilizing.
"You are not scattering my students." Dabi said coldly as his other hand grabbed the metal collar holding Kurogiri's physical form together, the one solid part of his body, and heated it until it glowed red.
….
Obviously–
Dabi knew the USJ attack was coming and could have warned the HPSC or Nezu, yet he chose to let it unfold with only minimal, localized preparations.
Why?
At 91% [Super Soldier], his cellular structure has plateaued.
He was once again stuck, and the only thing he can remember to move forward is to once again face 'Near-Death Stimulus' like before.
He needs a fight that pushes him to the brink of death.
Yeh, he sounds like a maniac to risk everything for his own goals and progression.
But, he just also can't let himself settle.
….
Kurogiri shrieked and tried to warp away, but Dabi's grip was iron. Another blast of flame forced the villain to maintain corporeal form or risk dispersing completely.
Within seconds, he was down, the metal collar fused and smoking, his consciousness fading.
One threat neutralized.
From above, the students watched in stunned silence as their assistant teacher took down a villain in less than ten seconds.
Below, Aizawa was already engaged.
His capture weapon snared three villains at once, yanking them off balance. His quirk activated - red eyes glowing as he erased multiple quirks simultaneously.
The underground Hero moved like a master, tackling between opponents, never staying still long enough to be hit. Every movement was economical, precise without any flashy heroics. It was a pure professional combatant in the field.
"Watch carefully." Thirteen said quietly to the students. "This is how Pro Heroes fight."
Dabi scanned the plaza from his position over Kurogiri's unconscious form.
Most of the low-level villains were manageable. Aizawa could handle them, but at the center of the plaza stood three figures that made Dabi's blood run cold.
A man covered in severed hands:
Tomura Shigaraki. The leader.
Beside him stood two massive creatures - humanoid yet wrong, with exposed brains, black skin, and grotesque musculature.
Nomu.
But are there two of them?
That wasn't right, in the original timeline there had only been one Nomu at USJ, so the second meant events were already deviating.
Shigaraki was scratching at his neck frantically, looking around the facility. "Where is he? Where is All Might? He is supposed to be here! The schedule said he would be here!"
His voice rose to a petulant scream. "This is all wrong! Nothing is going right! Kurogiri got taken down by some nobody! Where is All Might?!"
One of the students - Kirishima - shouted from above. "What kind of villain attack is this?! There are so many of them!"
"They seem organized." Yaoyorozu observed, her voice tight with fear. "This can't be a random attack."
Shigaraki's tantrum intensified. He grabbed one of his own hands, the severed one on his face, and adjusted it violently.
"Fine! FINE! If All Might isn't here, we will just kill everyone else! That will make him come!"
He pointed at Aizawa. "Nomu! Kill him!"
One of the massive creatures moved.
It moved with impossible speed for something that size, one moment it was standing beside Shigaraki, the next it was airborne, covering the fifty-meter distance to Aizawa in less than a second.
Aizawa saw it coming, barely, and tried to dodge, but the Nomu was already on him, massive fist pulled back for a killing blow.
From the observation deck, Midoriya saw it happening in slow motion, the Nomu about to crush his teacher. His legs moved instinctively, One For All crackling to life–
Then something passed by at the plaza. A blur of heat and speed.
The temperature in the entire dome spiked as a wave of intense heat washed over the students, making them stumble back. The air itself seemed to ignite.
And suddenly, Dabi was there.
He had crossed the distance from Kurogiri's position to Aizawa's location in the space between heartbeats. His arms were crossed in front of him, blocking Nomu's punch just inches from Aizawa's face.
The impact created a shockwave that cracked the concrete beneath their feet.
"Thank me later." Dabi grunted, muscles straining against Nomu's inhuman strength.
Then the second Nomu joined the fight.
It came from Dabi's blind side, fist slamming into his ribs with enough force to send him flying. He crashed through a concrete barrier, tumbling across the ground before catching himself mid-roll.
Dabi stood, coughing, blood splattered on the ground. "Damn. This is going to be difficult."
For a moment he wondered if he might have messed things up, but this wasn't the time for self-blame, he just had to take responsibility.
He looked at Aizawa. "Get back! Your quirk won't work on these things - they are bioengineered, not quirk-based regeneration! You will just make yourself a target!"
"I am not leaving you to–" Aizawa started.
"That wasn't a request!" Dabi's voice carried absolute authority. "Protect the students! That's your job!"
Before Aizawa could argue, Shigaraki cackled and pointed at the underground hero. "Oh, trying to run? Nomu! Get–"
Dabi's flames roared to life, forcing both Nomu to focus on him instead. "Your fight's with me!"
What followed was barely comprehensible to the watching students.
The battle moved too fast to track properly:
One moment Dabi was in the plaza, the next he was fifty meters away in the landslide zone, locked in combat with both Nomu simultaneously. Everywhere they had moved - it was disaster incoming, and the very air combusted from the heat of his flames.
They fought in the ruins, across the water, through the fire zone - ironic, given Dabi's quirk. They even fought midair, all three figures suspended for impossible moments as they exchanged blows.
"Holy crap." Kirishima breathed. "Is that even possible?"
"The heat output alone should be killing him." Yaoyorozu said, her analytical mind struggling to process what she was seeing. "How can human bodies withstand that level of thermal radiation??"
But Dabi kept fighting. His breathing technique pushed his body beyond normal limits. The Super Soldier serum at [91%] gave him strength and durability no human should possess. His flames burned hotter than they ever had before.
But it wasn't enough.
Two Nomu was too much. They had regeneration that could recover from anything short of complete destruction, and had strength that exceeded even All Might's and speed that matched the fastest Heroes.
And they didn't get tired.
A powerful fist caught Dabi in the stomach. He doubled over, blood spraying from his mouth.
Before he could recover, the second Nomu grabbed him and slammed him into the ground so hard the concrete cratered.
Watching from the mountain zone where he had been scattered by a villain, Todoroki felt something strange in his chest.
An unfamiliar sensation… especially those flams.
Dabi's blue flames were so intense, controlled, and... beautiful.
Is fire supposed to be that strong?
His whole life, Endeavor had told him fire was powerful but crude. That ice was more versatile…
But this.
This was pure control of mastery, every time a flame was erupted, it was exactly as hot as needed, with no wasted energy.
Back in the plaza, Dabi was on his knees.
Blood ran from his nose, his mouth, a cut above his eye. His hero costume was torn and burned - ironic that his own flames had damaged it.
"This isn't working." he muttered, forcing himself to stand. "Gotta separate them first."
He feinted at one Nomu, then blasted himself backward with an explosive burst of flame, landing near the entrance. Both Nomu pursued, but Dabi was faster.
He rocketed upward, using fire propulsion to launch himself through the already-damaged ceiling of the USJ.
The students gasped as he disappeared into the sky above the facility.
"Where is he going?!" Uraraka cried.
The answer came seconds later.
Dabi fell from the sky like a meteor, blue flames trailing behind him. He had positioned himself directly above one of the Nomu, and gravity plus fire propulsion accelerated him to terminal velocity.
His fist, wreathed in condensed flame so hot it glowed white, connected with Nomu's skull.
The shockwave shattered every remaining window in the facility. Students stumbled, some falling to their knees from the pressure wave. The sound was deafening, like thunder concentrated into a single point.
When the dust cleared, one Nomu was embedded in the ground up to its waist, the concrete around it melted to glass from the heat.
Down but not out, it was already regenerating.
Below them, Aizawa cursed under his breath, still fighting off the low-level villains that kept trying to reach the students–
"Show-off."
Dabi landed hard, his legs nearly buckling. He was breathing heavily now, the rhythm of Total Concentration Breaking down slightly.
His body was reaching its limits.
"One down." he gasped. "Now for—"
….
[One The Plaza]
"Wait!"
From the observation deck, Kirishima pointed down. "What the hell is he doing?! Why isn't he using his fire swords? Why is he just throwing hands at that thing? Cut it up already!"
After being of trained Dabi a few times, they all knew his fighting style involved blades made from his blue fire. Seeing him abandon them in a fight this brutal made no sense.
…and the question hung in the air. They had seen those blades before - lethal, elegant, able to carve through steel like paper. Against monsters like these, swords seemed like the obvious answer.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, SHITTY HAIR!" Bakugo snapped.
He leaned so far over the railing his feet barely touched the floor, knuckles white around the metal bar, sparks crackling in his palms.
"Think for a second, you extras!" he snarled. "Look at those freaks! That thing's soaking up the impact!"
His eyes stayed locked on the battlefield.
"If he spreads the fire out into blades, it won't hit hard enough. So he is dumping everything into his fists, and compressing that blue fire and releasing it all at once."
A beat. "He is trying to overload their regeneration before their cells can knit back together."
"But the recoil…" Yaoyorozu whispered, her hand over her mouth.
"Yeah." Bakugo spat, a flicker of grim respect crossing his face.
"To hit that hard, he is basically setting off a grenade in his own fist every time he swings."
.
….
[To be continued…]
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