Thankfully, we'd made it to the seminar just in time. Present Mic's voice, though? Yeah, not exactly easy on the ears. To be honest, I nearly fanboyed watching the scene unfold in front of me—I was just one row behind Izuku and Bakugo.
I hate that guy. At least he kind of reforms in the later arcs, though.
Still, Bakugo's loud, arrogant yelling was somehow worse than Present Mic's glass-shattering screeches. How is that even possible?
But enough of that. I need to focus. The written test is about to start, and a quick mental refresher won't hurt.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Name: Light Yagami
Source:Death Note
Role: Genius student, vigilante serial killer, Kira
Alignment: Lawful evil
Vibe: Charismatic. Calculating. God-complex.
Core Traits:
Brilliant and highly analytical
Ruthlessly ambitious, self-righteous
Obsessed with creating a utopia—his utopia
Manipulative, dangerously charismatic
Deeply moralistic... in a warped, narcissistic way
Skills:
Exceptional deductive reasoning
Master of deception and psychological warfare
Pro at hiding true intentions
Trigger Phrases:
"I am justice."
"This world needs a god."
"That's right. I am Kira. I am justice. The god of the new world."
_________________________________________________________________________________
I muttered a few trigger lines under my breath, slipping into character. A few lines of Light here and there, just enough to lock in the mindset.
Before the exam started, they confiscated everything—phones, notebooks, anything that could be used to cheat. Same for all the other perspectives.
But honestly, what kind of fool would need to cheat? That's beneath me. I'm not some intellectually challenged dumbass.
The test itself was a mix of mathematics, science, and—most importantly—hero sociology. A subject taught worldwide, and something I'd studied extensively... as Kira.
At some point, a small, sly smile crept across my face—one of complete confidence. Deserved, too. I finished the entire paper in half the allotted time. Obviously. Genius, remember?
With that done, it was time to use the remaining minutes to strategize for the practical exam.
If everything goes like canon, I'll be up against combat robots—as a basically quirkless student. But I'm not helpless. I've got another role up my sleeve if it comes to that. Still, The Guard should be enough... if I can get my hands on a weapon.
That's the tricky part. I can't exactly bring one in. I could ask Simon to make something for me—but only if we're in the same zone. Otherwise, I might just pull a Deku and grab a piece of scrap from a destroyed bot. Improvisation at its finest.
Combat isn't even necessary, anyway. Rescue points are the real goal. Optimal strategy? Focus on sniping opportunities from the stronger students—clean up stragglers, "kill steal" robots, help trapped students.
Maximum results, minimum risk.
Honestly... sometimes I frighten myself with my intellect.
Heh.
My soft chuckle echoed through the silent hall. In response, a few students groaned in frustration—like animals. Like dogs.
**********
I was finally through with the written test. If I'd stayed in-character as Light Yagami, I would've been mentally roasting half the room with monologues about their collective intellectual inadequacy.
Now, I stood before it—the giant gate.
Towering at least four stories high, the reinforced steel doors were stamped with the bold, golden insignia of U.A.. Behind them lay a sprawling replica of a city—an artificial war zone crafted for the sole purpose of simulating real hero work. Cracked asphalt streets, half-collapsed buildings, smoke-belching chimneys, and the faint sound of mechanical whirring from somewhere deep inside. All of it screamed manufactured chaos.
My group? Not a single canon character in sight. A full roster of NPCs. Then again, so was I. Technically. So was Simon, and he hadn't even planned on becoming a hero. But what can I say? My persuasion skills work like a charm. I couldn't just leave my best friend—sorry, my cash cow—behind.
"READY, SET, GO!!!" Present Mic shouted from somewhere above, his voice all feedback and cracked glass.
I barely heard him. Didn't need to. The moment the gates groaned open—massive steel splitting like the jaws of some ancient beast—the entire crowd surged forward like a dam had just burst.
Some ran with explosive propulsion, launching off the ground with flames, air blasts, or sonic bursts. Others sprinted at regular human speed, fists clenched and nerves tight. Then there were the mutants—oh, the mutants were always a sight.
To my left, a girl with reptilian skin and a whip-like tail vaulted a fence with ease. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the air. Further ahead, a bulky guy with stone-plated arms bulldozed his way through a wall instead of using the alley next to it. A boy with antennae twitching from his forehead scuttled on all fours like an insect, scaling the side of a building before leaping to the next rooftop with terrifying grace.
And me? I just stood there, calm in the middle of a kinetic storm of panic and adrenaline.
I still had prep work to do.
I pulled out my small, leather-bound notebook—handled, discreet, mine—and flipped it open to the first page.
Name: [Unnamed]
Source: Othello (Background NPC)
Role: Palace guard, Cyprus garrison
Alignment: Lawful neutral
Vibe: Quiet. Present. Invisible unless needed.
Core Traits:
Obeys without question
Doesn't speak unless addressed
Thinks in orders, not opinions
Loyal to structure, not people
Skills:
Basic swordsmanship
Shield line formation
Triggers / Phrases:
"Orders received."
"Not my place."
"The general's word is law."
mentally imagining myself in Armor.
the soft yet present firm weight of my chest plate.
Yes yes .
"The general's word is law. "