The fall through the portal was fast. Violent. Like being flushed down a cosmic toilet with your nervous system still attached. Lucien's senses blurred—colors bled into sounds, smells felt like tastes, and gravity stopped pretending to make sense.
Then everything snapped back.
Hard.
He landed face-first in a pile of trash.
"Perfect," he muttered, spitting out what he *hoped* was a banana peel and not a mutated lung. "First contact with a new universe and I get introduced to the garbage economy."
He stood slowly, brushing off grime and breathing in the air.
It smelled... different. Industrial but clean. The kind of scent that said *civilization exists, but someone's trying real hard to pretend it's perfect.*
Lucien blinked up at the sky. It was a deep, clear blue, but above him towered massive skyscrapers—sleek and futuristic, with holographic billboards flashing images of brightly costumed figures posing dramatically.
One caught his eye.
"All Might: The Symbol of Peace!"
Lucien's lip curled into a half-smile.
"Well, looks like I didn't miss the main arc."
He turned, dusted himself off, and checked his portal gun. Still stable. Barely.
**Energy reserves: 3%
Multiversal lock: Engaged
Return travel: Unavailable**
"Of course," he muttered. "Plot armor's a bitch."
Still—he was here. In a world where quirks ruled, where being a superhero was a career path, and where science took a backseat to flashy fights and anime logic.
And him? He was the walking antithesis of anime logic now. Armed with a genius that rewrote physics for fun.
Lucien grinned and stepped out of the alley.
Time to see what chaos he could stir up.
---
Downtown Musutafu
10:37 AM
Izuku Midoriya ran. Hard.
The villain was faster than he expected—faster than anyone should be when made of sludge and sewage. He clutched his notebook to his chest and ducked under a sign as the green goo surged after him, forming claws and tendrils like some living nightmare.
"No, no, no!" Izuku wheezed. "Why does it always go this way?!"
Then he tripped.
He hit the ground with a hard thud, breath knocked from his lungs. The Sludge Villain loomed over him, mouth splitting into a wicked grin.
"This body'll do just fine!" it hissed, tendrils lashing toward him.
Izuku closed his eyes—
And then everything exploded.
A beam of *pure heat* slammed into the villain's side, launching it off Izuku like someone had drop-kicked it with a sun. The sludge splattered against a wall, hissing and steaming.
Izuku blinked up in shock. "W-What—?"
A figure stepped into view, casting a long shadow across the alley.
He wasn't in costume. Just dark jeans, combat boots, and a long black coat lined with dull chrome. A faint mechanical hum followed him, like his presence warped the air itself.
Lucien Kessler looked down at the boy.
"Huh. So you're the protagonist," he said flatly.
Izuku gawked. "I—I—What?!"
"No time," Lucien snapped, turning as the villain began reforming.
The sludge mass howled in rage. "You dare interrupt me?!"
Lucien didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out what looked like a lighter. He flicked it once. A circular ripple of energy spread around him—blue, pulsing, sharp. The air cracked.
Then the sludge lunged—
Lucien vanished.
And reappeared behind it, holding a device that looked like a hybrid between a microwave and a grenade.
"Say cheese," he said, and tossed it.
The explosion was silent.
No fire. No boom. Just a pulse of gravity so strong it *collapsed* the villain into a puddle of unconscious goo, flattened like someone dropped a black hole on a jellyfish.
Izuku could only stare.
Lucien crouched beside the villain's remains and studied it with a scowl. "Quirk-based mutation… no neural redundancy, low reflexivity, extreme water dependence. Ugh. Amateur biology."
Then he stood and looked at Izuku again.
"You okay, kid?"
"I—I—Yes! I think—Who are you?!"
Lucien stuck his hands in his pockets.
"No one important."
Then he turned to leave.
"Wait!" Izuku scrambled to his feet. "That was amazing! You—you stopped him like it was nothing! Are you a pro hero?!"
Lucien stopped walking.
"Not even close."
"But you saved me! And you don't even have a costume or anything! That—That technique—what kind of Quirk is that?!"
Lucien glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were unreadable.
"Who says I have a Quirk?"
Izuku froze. "W-What?"
Lucien shrugged.
"Think about it."
Then he walked away.
---
Ten minutes later, rooftop nearby
Lucien leaned on the railing of an old fire escape, watching the city from above.
He liked being high up. Gave him time to think.
The last ten minutes had confirmed a lot.
One: he'd landed during the early canon timeline—probably before All Might passed his Quirk on to Izuku.
Two: the people of this world were powerful, but scientifically blind. Everything revolved around "quirks" like it was magic. No one asked how. No one asked *why*. That was dangerous.
Three: he was already bored.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a capsule. It unfolded into a small hovering orb—his personal AI assistant, freshly crafted using modified Rick tech.
"Name?" he asked.
The orb beeped. "No designation yet."
Lucien rubbed his chin.
"Let's call you R.I.S.A.—Rick-Inspired Sentient Assistant."
"Designation accepted. Hello, Lucien. How may I assist you?"
"Scan public internet. Collect data on society, quirk distribution, major political entities, scientific institutions, hero registries, and anything tagged under 'UA High School.'"
"Processing... complete in 22 seconds."
Lucien cracked his knuckles.
Time to play catch-up. And then maybe... maybe rewrite this world from the inside out.
---
**Meanwhile...**
"All Might! Over here! The villain's already down!"
The No. 1 Hero skid to a halt atop the building, cape billowing, eyes wide. Below him, a police team was inspecting the sludge remains.
"No signs of struggle. Just... containment residue and thermal damage," one said.
"Are we sure a hero was involved?" another asked.
All Might narrowed his eyes.
"No registered Quirk matches this energy signature," he muttered. "Whoever did this... wasn't from around here."
---