The air buzzed with nervous energy as we were herded onto a series of transport buses, the chatter around me a mixture of excitement and dread. I slipped into a seat near the back, away from most of the noise, and rested my head against the window, watching the scenery blur by as we were taken to... wherever UA's next trap—I mean, challenge—was waiting.

What was I doing? 

Really, what was I doing here? 

This was the kind of situation where Kaito's constant banter would've been a nice distraction, but no—his exam date was Friday, leaving me to navigate this insanity alone. I sighed, shifting my backpack, which had suddenly started to feel heavier than usual.

The bus came to a stop, jolting me out of my thoughts. I followed the other students out, blinking as the sunlight hit me. And there it was: a massive, towering gate with the letter F emblazoned above it in bold black paint. The thing was intimidating, a steel giant standing in the middle of an otherwise ordinary field.

Me: "What's with the ominous horror-movie vibes?" 

I muttered under my breath, adjusting the straps of my backpack. Around me, the crowd of students exchanged uneasy glances, whispering theories about what might be behind the gate. 

A monster? 

A maze? 

Robots? ...More robots? 

Honestly, with UA, anything was fair game.

Present Mic's unmistakable energy shattered the murmurs. He jumped in front of us, his grin so wide it looked like it might split his face in two.

Mic: "ALRIGHT, FUTURE HEROES!" His voice boomed, sending a wave of tension and adrenaline through the group. "THIS IS YOUR NEXT CHALLENGE!" He gestured dramatically to the gate, like a game show host revealing a new car. "BEHIND THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF MODERN ENGINEERING IS YOUR TESTING GROUND. YOUR JOB? GET THROUGH IT! FAST, SMART, AND HEROICALLY!"

Somewhere in the crowd, a guy muttered, "What does that even mean?"

Mic: "YOU'LL FIND OUT!" Present Mic shot back, somehow hearing him despite the noise. "BUT HERE'S THE CATCH: WHEN THIS GATE OPENS, YOU GO. NO WAITING AROUND, NO SECOND-GUESSING. GOT IT?"

No one moved.

The crowd shifted awkwardly, everyone looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to take the first step. I scanned the faces around me, recognizing the same uncertainty that churned in my gut. And then it hit me: if we all just stood here, nothing was going to happen.

Hesitating wouldn't help me. 

Overthinking wouldn't save me. 

If I wanted to do this, if I wanted to prove I could be a hero, I had to move.

The gate creaked open, metal groaning as it revealed a long, winding path into what looked like chaos—obstacles, debris, and who knew what else stretched out into the distance.

No one ran.

Me: "Seriously?" I muttered, glancing around. "We're really doing this?"

Fine. 

If no one else was going to go, I would.

Tightening my grip on my backpack straps, I took a deep breath and stepped forward. And then I ran.

The first few strides felt strange, like I was breaking some unspoken rule by going first. But then adrenaline kicked in, and I didn't care. My legs pumped, my heart raced, and I focused on the path ahead. Hesitation wouldn't get me through this. Action would.

Behind me, I heard the shuffle of movement as others finally snapped out of their daze and began to follow. Present Mic's voice roared over the noise.

Mic: "HELL YEAH! GOOO, LITTLE LISTENER, GOOO!"

I couldn't help but grin as his words echoed in my ears. It was ridiculous, over-the-top, and exactly the kind of chaotic encouragement I didn't know I needed.

The sound of pounding feet grew louder behind me as more students surged forward, spurred on by the realization that staying still wasn't an option. The crowd became a storm of movement, and I was at the front, leading the charge whether I wanted to or not.

The path ahead twisted and turned, debris scattered across it like someone had taken the concept of a hero obstacle course and decided to crank the difficulty up to eleven. A broken-down wall blocked part of the road, forcing me to climb over it. My hands scraped against the rough concrete as I hauled myself up and over, landing with a thud on the other side.

Me: "Alright," I muttered to myself, brushing the dust off my pants. "One wall down. Probably fifty more to go."

The sound of someone tripping behind me made me glance back. A girl with short brown hair had stumbled, her quirk apparently making her lighter than air—she was floating just above the ground, trying to regain her balance.

Me: "Keep going!" I called back, my voice surprising even me because I certainly didn't wanted to say that out loud. "You've got this!"

She looked up, her face a mix of surprise and determination, and nodded before pushing herself forward again.

The path grew more challenging the further I went. Metal beams jutted out at odd angles, forcing me to duck and weave. A narrow section of the path required me to balance carefully, my arms stretched out to keep myself steady.

This was exactly the kind of thing I'd prepared for—mental challenges wrapped in physical obstacles. My lack of a quirk didn't matter here. What mattered was staying focused, adapting, and keeping my momentum.

Behind me, the chaos of the crowd continued, Present Mic's voice cutting through every so often with a burst of encouragement or commentary.

Mic: "LOOK AT THEM GO! THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HERO, BABY!"

I had no idea how long the course was or what else was waiting for me, but as I ran, climbed, and dodged, one thing became clear: this wasn't just about speed. It was about perseverance. UA wasn't testing our quirks—they were testing us.

And I was determined to pass.