Chapter 40: What are you doing?!
Thick, billowing clouds of white steam continued to rise from the cracked, scorched earth, completely obscuring the center of the U.A. stadium.
The Volcanic Fortress stood amidst the devastating aftermath of their own catastrophic assault. The heavy, suffocating scent of sulfur and burnt ozone hung thick in the air. Sweat poured profusely down the faces of the four students, soaking the dark blue fabric of their U.A. gym uniforms and stinging their exhausted eyes. Their chests heaved in heavy, rhythmic gasps, utterly drained by the sheer physical and elemental toll of the clash.
Slowly, from the rear of the formation, Mezo Shoji retracted his replicated limbs. With his primary hand, he extended the pristine, white fabric forward, passing the ten-million-point headband back to its rightful owner.
Sakazuki took the headband. His thick, muscular arms trembled slightly from the massive thermal output he had just unleashed. The digital screens towering above the arena flashed wildly, and Present Mic's ecstatic voice roared through the speakers, inciting a stadium-wide frenzy. The crowd was absolutely feral, entirely captivated by the overwhelming display of raw, destructive supremacy.
But amidst the cosmic noise of the cheering thousands, a silent shadow slipped perfectly into Sakazuki's blind spot.
Hitoshi Shinso's team glided across the dirt track with eerie, calculated silence. They did not shout. They did not attack. They simply waited for the exact moment the magma user's guard was completely down.
Sakazuki slowly raised his heavy arms, preparing to tie the ten-million-point crown around his sweaty forehead once more.
"Your team nearly burned alive just now because of your reckless little tantrum," a cold, smooth, and deliberately provocative voice drifted up from the ground behind him.
Sakazuki froze, the white fabric hovering mere inches from his forehead.
Shinso stared up at the towering student, his tired, purple eyes narrowing with sharp, calculating precision. He knew exactly where to strike. "Do you lack control over your own power that much, 'General'? Or are you just a walking disaster who selfishly pretends to be a leader?"
The words were a surgical strike directly to Sakazuki's core. His absolute military discipline, his deep-seated fear of accidentally killing his classmates, and his pride as a tactical commander were all violently challenged in a single sentence.
A heavy, dangerous scowl etched itself onto Sakazuki's stern face. He tilted his head slightly over his shoulder, his dark eyes narrowing into a fierce glare as he opened his mouth to put the arrogant challenger in his place.
"What did you s—"
The syllable died in his throat.
Snap.
The connection to his own mind was instantly and violently severed. The terrifying, predatory gleam that usually burned within Sakazuki's dark eyes vanished without a trace, rapidly replaced by a dead, hollow, and absolute white void. His broad shoulders slumped. The immense, imposing tension in his muscular frame evaporated entirely, leaving him as limp and unresponsive as a wooden marionette.
Below him, Shinso allowed a dark, victorious smirk to stretch across his face. The most dangerous beast in the entire stadium was now resting firmly in the palm of his hand.
"Yes, just like that, obedient magma boy," Shinso commanded softly, his voice echoing in the absolute emptiness of Sakazuki's hijacked mind. "Now... hand over the headband quietly."
Without a single hint of hesitation or resistance, Sakazuki's left arm began to move. In a slow, mechanical, and deeply unnatural motion, he extended the hand holding the ten million points straight down toward the purple-haired student.
At the base of the chariot, Kirishima and Tetsutetsu immediately felt the unnatural shift in their rider's weight. They looked up, their eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated horror as they saw Sakazuki voluntarily offering the ultimate prize to an enemy.
"Hey! Wait, what are you doing, Sakazuki?!" Kirishima screamed, his hardened voice cracking with confusion.
"Snap out of it! We just got that back!" Tetsutetsu roared.
But there was no answer. The magma dreadnought remained entirely silent, his arm lowering inch by inch toward Shinso's eagerly waiting fingers.
Far across the chaotic battlefield, entirely removed from the epicenter of the standoff, Izuku Midoriya skidded to a halt.
His green hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his uniform was covered in layers of thick brown dust. His team had survived the grueling chaos. Dozens of smaller point values were wrapped securely around Tokoyami's and his own neck.
Midoriya gasped for air, his chest burning as he looked at his exhausted teammates. "We have gathered enough points!" Midoriya commanded breathlessly. "Let us just focus on evading for now. The time is almost up!"
As he wiped a stinging mixture of sweat and dirt from his green eyes, Midoriya's gaze flickered across the ruined stadium. He looked past the glowing trenches of cooling magma and spotted the towering figure of Sakazuki.
Midoriya's breath hitched. He squinted, unable to comprehend the visual information his brain was processing. The terrifying powerhouse who had just conquered the entire arena was standing completely still, his eyes blank, mechanically handing the pristine white headband to a student from General Studies.
"Isn't that the ten million headband?" Midoriya whispered, his eyes widening in absolute shock. "What is he doing?!"
Fumikage Tokoyami followed his gaze. The bird-headed student narrowed his eyes, analyzing the bizarre situation with cold logic. "It is a trap or a quirk we do not understand. Regardless, we have secured our position. It is best for us not to interfe—"
Tokoyami never finished his sentence.
A sudden, terrifying surge of pure, raw energy ignited the air right beside him. Tokoyami turned his head, his eyes shrinking in alarm.
Midoriya was no longer listening. His right arm was pulled back, his hand trembling violently. Bright, glowing crimson veins pulsed with terrifying intensity across his skin, the chaotic power of One For All surging and concentrating entirely into his middle finger. Midoriya's eyes burned with a fierce, uncompromising determination. His heroic instincts had violently overridden any tactical logic. He could not stand by and watch a fellow classmate be manipulated like a puppet.
Ochaco Uraraka and Mei Hatsume gasped in unison, the sheer pressure of the glowing energy pushing them back.
"Midoriya-kun?!" Uraraka cried out in shock.
Midoriya locked his eyes on the center of the arena. He clamped his thumb over his glowing middle finger, the pressure building to a catastrophic breaking point.
"SMAAAAASH!!!"
Midoriya viciously flicked his finger.
The air itself shattered. A colossal, concussive wave of highly pressurized wind erupted from his hand. The Delaware Smash tore across the stadium like a localized hurricane, ripping the loose dirt from the ground and shrieking through the air with devastating kinetic force.
The gale crashed directly into the center of the arena, violently slamming into both the Volcanic Fortress and Shinso's cavalry.
The sheer physical impact of the wind was staggering. Kirishima, Tetsutetsu, and Shoji were pushed backward, their boots digging deep trenches into the dirt just to stay upright. Shinso's team violently staggered, their perfect balance completely thrown off by the sudden squall.
And atop the chariot, Sakazuki's heavy frame was violently jolted.
The intense, jarring physical shock of the wind pressure rattled his skull. In a fraction of a second, the thick, unnatural fog clouding his mind was violently dispersed. The blank, dead white void in his eyes shattered like fragile glass, instantly replaced by the sharp, terrifying contraction of his dark pupils.
Sakazuki gasped, his consciousness snapping back into reality.
He blinked against the stinging wind, his military reflexes instantly assessing the situation. He looked down and saw his own left hand extended outward. A mere millimeter away, Shinso's fingers were outstretched, reaching hungrily for the ten-million-point headband.
Realizing his absolute control had just been broken by the sudden gust of wind, Shinso's tired eyes widened in panic. He gritted his teeth in sheer frustration. Abandoning all caution, Shinso lunged his upper body forward, desperately trying to snatch the fabric by force before his prey could react.
He was too slow.
Sakazuki's survival instincts fired with terrifying speed. He violently yanked his left arm back, pulling the white headband completely out of Shinso's desperate reach.
Simultaneously, Sakazuki clenched his right fist. He did not secrete magma—a point-blank strike with liquid rock would be unequivocally lethal. Instead, he channeled a massive, concentrated surge of pure thermal energy directly into his knuckles. A fierce, blistering vortex of superheated air swirled violently around his fist, distorting the space around it like a jet engine.
With a fierce, gravelly roar, Sakazuki drove a devastating, heavy right hook straight through the air.
The scorching, heat-laced punch connected flawlessly with Shinso's shoulder and chest. The immense physical force of the blow lifted the purple-haired student entirely off his chariot. Shinso was blasted backward, flying through the air as his teammates collapsed underneath him.
Time seemed to freeze as Shinso plummeted toward the dirt track, the ten million points safely secured in Sakazuki's iron grip.
The exact second Shinso's back slammed heavily into the scorched earth, a deafening, electronic siren blared across the entire stadium, echoing into the clear blue sky.
"TIME IS UP!!!" Present Mic screamed, his voice breaking through the chaotic noise. "THE CAVALRY BATTLE IS OFFICIALLY OVER!"
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