The path finally opened up, and I stumbled into what could only be described as a full-blown urban battleground—a sprawling mock city stretching out as far as the eye could see. My breath caught in my throat. Skyscrapers loomed high, alleyways cut through the maze-like streets, and debris was scattered everywhere, making it feel eerily real.

For a second, I froze, my sneakers skidding slightly against the uneven ground.

This... this is insane.

But it didn't take long for my instincts to kick back in. Hesitating was a luxury I couldn't afford. The moment my legs moved, I felt that familiar rush of energy surge through me. This wasn't just a test anymore. This was an escape—a moment of clarity.

I sprinted into the mock city, weaving through overturned cars and jumping over fallen streetlights. The wind whipped past my face as I navigated the narrow streets. My heartbeat steadied, the rhythm of my steps syncing perfectly with the pulse of adrenaline coursing through me.

And then I saw it.

A building ahead of me, its walls jagged and cracked but still solid enough to climb. It wasn't particularly tall—maybe three or four stories—but it was enough to make my stomach flip with excitement. Without a second thought, I sprinted toward it, leaping onto a pile of rubble to launch myself up the wall.

My fingers gripped the rough surface as I pulled myself upward, the scrape of stone against my palms grounding me in the moment. The strain in my arms and legs was familiar, almost comforting, as I scaled the building in a fluid motion.

Reaching the rooftop, I hauled myself over the edge and stood there for a moment, catching my breath. The city spread out below me like a playground, its chaos inviting. My lips curved into a grin as I adjusted the straps of my backpack.

Alright, Izuku. Time to fly.

I broke into a sprint, the rooftop tiles clattering beneath my feet as I pushed myself forward. The edge of the roof came up fast, but I didn't slow down. I jumped, my body launching into the air, and for a split second, everything felt still.

The drop below me should've made me panic, but instead, it felt like freedom. The wind rushed past, and the world blurred, the only thing anchoring me being the next rooftop ahead. My feet hit the surface, the impact jolting through my legs, but I didn't stop.

Another building. Another jump.

I moved instinctively, my body knowing what to do before my brain even had a chance to think. Vaulting over pipes, sliding under low-hanging beams, and leaping between rooftops with a kind of reckless joy I hadn't felt in ages.

It wasn't just parkour—it was freedom. The city wasn't a test anymore. It was mine.

The faster I moved, the more alive I felt. The weight of the exam, the pressure of proving myself—all of it faded away. The wind whipping past my ears drowned out the noise of the other participants below, and for a moment, it was just me and the rhythm of my steps.

I angled myself toward a taller building, its rooftop about a story higher than the one I was currently on. It was going to be a tough jump, but I wasn't about to slow down. I poured every ounce of speed into my legs, my muscles burning with the effort, and launched myself upward.

The feeling of soaring through the air was intoxicating, like I could almost convince myself I wasn't quirkless. My hands slammed down on the ledge, fingers curling over the edge as I pulled myself up in one fluid motion.

The view from the higher rooftop was breathtaking. The mock city stretched out in every direction, a labyrinth of challenges waiting to be conquered. Below, I could see some of the other participants making their way through the streets, some struggling with obstacles, others darting ahead with their quirks.

But up here? Up here, it was quiet.

This is where I belong.

I took off running again, picking up even more speed. The rooftops blurred together as I leapt from one to the next, my movements fluid and precise. Every jump, every vault, every slide—it was a reminder that I could do this. That I belonged here.

The wind roared in my ears, and I couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't the nervous laugh I'd been forcing out earlier. It was genuine, unfiltered joy.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't worried about whether I was good enough. I wasn't thinking about Kaito, or the other participants, or even the judges watching me from who-knew-where.

I was just... running.

The next building had a narrow gap to its rooftop, barely wide enough for me to clear without losing momentum. I angled myself toward it, my legs pumping as I pushed forward.

One step. Two steps. Jump.

My feet hit the ledge, my body pitching forward slightly before I regained my balance. The adrenaline coursing through me was electric, my heart pounding as I kept moving.

The city felt endless, but I didn't care. Every corner I turned, every obstacle I tackled, was another challenge to overcome. And as I soared from rooftop to rooftop, the world below me became a blur, unimportant compared to the thrill of the moment.

I wasn't just surviving this exam.

I was thriving.