Y/N Gojo stood outside the bus, hands tucked casually in his pockets, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there all week. His Six Eyes swept across U.A.'s grounds in constant, restless motion—analyzing, calculating, searching for threats that logic said shouldn't be there.

Something felt wrong.

He couldn't pinpoint it exactly. There was no visible danger, no obvious threat. Just... a wrongness in the air, like the universe itself was holding its breath before something terrible happened.

I don't like this, he thought, his usual smile notably absent. Something's off. Something's coming.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention. Aizawa approached, looking even more exhausted than usual, his capture weapon hanging loose around his neck.

"You're brooding," Aizawa observed flatly. "That's not like you."

"I don't brood," Gojo corrected, though his tone lacked its usual playfulness. "I contemplate with style. Very different."

"Uh-huh." Aizawa stopped beside him, following his gaze toward the empty grounds. "What's wrong?"

Gojo was quiet for a moment, then sighed—a rare sound from him. "I don't know. That's what bothers me." He tilted his head, the blindfold hiding whatever expression his eyes might have held. "Something feels off about today. About this trip to the USJ."

"Off how?"

"If I knew that, I'd tell you." Gojo's hand came up to rub the back of his neck in uncharacteristic uncertainty. "My Six Eyes aren't showing me anything concrete, but my instincts are screaming that something bad is going to happen."

Aizawa studied him carefully. In the week since Gojo had joined U.A.'s staff, he'd learned that the white-haired teacher was many things—cocky, playful, occasionally infuriating—but paranoid wasn't one of them. If Gojo said something felt wrong, it was worth taking seriously.

"You want to cancel the trip?" Aizawa asked.

Gojo considered it, his Six Eyes continuing their relentless scan of the area. Then, reluctantly, he shook his head. "No. I don't have anything concrete enough to justify that. Just... a feeling." He looked at Aizawa, and despite the blindfold, his concern was palpable. "But I'm telling you now—if anything happens, anything at all, I'm not holding back."

"The students—"

"Will be fine because I'll make sure they're fine," Gojo interrupted, his voice taking on an edge of steel beneath the usual casual tone. "But whatever might be coming? I'll handle it. Permanently."

Aizawa nodded slowly. "Alright. But try to remember they're students. They need to learn, even in crisis situations."

"They can learn after they're safe," Gojo said firmly.

Before Aizawa could respond, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, read the message, and sighed. "Thirteen says they have that meeting with the Support Department later. We won't be at the USJ long—maybe an hour, two at most."

"That's something, at least," Gojo muttered, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease.

Aizawa put a hand on Gojo's shoulder—a rare gesture of reassurance from the typically aloof teacher. "We'll be fine. You'll be there too. Between the three of us, we can handle anything that might happen." He paused, then added with the faintest hint of dry humor, "You're 'the strongest,' remember?"

Gojo's smile returned, though it was smaller, more subdued than usual. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." He straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "Alright. I'm probably just being paranoid. First time being responsible for a bunch of teenagers, you know? Makes you worry."

"Welcome to teaching," Aizawa said dryly.

The sound of voices drew both teachers' attention. Class 1-A was approaching, backpacks slung over shoulders, excited chatter filling the air. They'd grown noticeably more comfortable over the past week, their initial nervousness replaced with cautious confidence.

"Good morning, Aizawa-sensei! Gojo-sensei!" Iida's voice rang out as he reached them first, his arm already moving in that characteristic chopping motion. "We are all present and accounted for! Everyone arrived with five minutes to spare, demonstrating excellent punctuality!"

"Morning, Iida," Aizawa greeted tiredly.

"Yo, Iida," Gojo added, his casual demeanor sliding back into place like a mask. "Still as punctual as ever, I see."

"Punctuality is the foundation of a hero's reliability!" Iida declared seriously.

"Tch." Bakugo shouldered past, hands shoved in his pockets, barely sparing the teachers a glance. "Can we just get this over with? I didn't come to U.A. to look at rescue training facilities."

"Kacchan!" Midoriya hurried after him, looking apologetic. "You shouldn't be so rude to the teachers—" He cut himself off as he noticed Gojo, and his eyes immediately lit up with that familiar analytical gleam. "Oh! Gojo-sensei! I've been meaning to ask you some questions about your quirk! Last time during training, I noticed that when Todoroki's ice approached you, it seemed to slow down in a spiral pattern rather than stopping uniformly, which suggests that your spatial manipulation might be rotating the space around you rather than just creating a static barrier, and I was wondering if—"

"Midoriya," Gojo interrupted gently, holding up a hand. Despite his earlier tension, he couldn't help but be amused by the green-haired student's enthusiasm. "Breathe. You're going to pass out."

Midoriya's face turned red. "S-sorry! I just—I've been taking notes all week, and there's so much I don't understand about how Limitless works, and—" He fumbled with his notebook, flipping through pages covered in dense notes and diagrams. "See, I tried to calculate the energy requirements for maintaining Infinity constantly, but the numbers don't make sense unless you're somehow drawing power from an external source, or maybe converting spatial energy directly, but that would require—"

"Kid," Gojo said, and there was genuine respect in his voice now. "That's some serious analysis. You figured out more in a week than most people do in years."

Midoriya's eyes went even wider, his notebook nearly dropping from his hands. "R-really?!"

"Really. Your intuition about the rotation is spot-on—space does spiral around me when I use Infinity. As for the energy requirements..." Gojo tilted his head consideringly. "Tell you what. After we get back from the USJ, I'll sit down with you and explain some of the technical details. Fair?"

"YES! Thank you, sensei!" Midoriya looked like he might actually explode from excitement.

"Just try not to overthink it during the field trip," Gojo added. "Thirteen's going to teach you about rescue operations today. Pay attention—that stuff's important."

"I will!" Midoriya promised, then hesitated. "Um, sensei? Are you... okay? You seem different today."

Gojo's smile flickered for just a moment. The kid was perceptive—he'd give him that.

"I'm fine, Midoriya," he said, ruffling the boy's green hair with one hand. "Just didn't sleep well last night. Too much coffee, you know how it is."

Liar, his own thoughts accused. You don't need sleep, and you know something's wrong. But what are you supposed to tell him? 'Hey kid, I've got a bad feeling about today but no concrete reason for it'? That'll really inspire confidence.

"Oh! Okay," Midoriya accepted the explanation easily, too excited about the promised quirk discussion to press further. "I'll let you rest then!"

As Midoriya hurried back to join his classmates, more students filed past the teachers.

"Morning, sensei!" Uraraka waved cheerfully.

"Ribbit, good morning," Tsuyu added calmly.

"Yo, teach!" Kirishima grinned, his sharp teeth showing. "Ready to see us in action today?"

"This is going to be so cool!" Ashido bounced excitedly. "A whole facility just for rescue training!"

Kaminari and Sero were already making bets about who would do best in the rescue scenarios. Tokoyami nodded solemnly to the teachers as he passed. Yaoyorozu walked with perfect posture, her expression focused and ready. Jirou had her earphone jacks plugged into her phone, bobbing her head to music.

Todoroki passed silently, his heterochromatic eyes meeting Gojo's blindfolded gaze for a brief moment. There was something searching in that look, as if the dual-quirk user was trying to read the teacher's mood.

He noticed too, Gojo realized. Smart kid.

"Alright, everyone on the bus!" Aizawa called out, his voice cutting through the chatter. "We're on a schedule, so let's move."

The students began filing onto the bus with varying levels of enthusiasm. Iida immediately started trying to organize everyone into "proper seating arrangements" based on some system only he understood, which predictably dissolved into chaos as everyone just sat wherever they wanted.

Gojo moved to board the bus, but paused at the steps, his Six Eyes sweeping the area one more time.

Nothing. Still nothing concrete. Just this damn feeling...

"Gojo," Aizawa's voice was quiet, meant only for him. "If you're really that concerned, we can—"

"No," Gojo interrupted, forcing his usual smile back into place. "I'm being paranoid. Let's just get this over with, get the kids their rescue training, and head back. Simple."

Nothing ever stays simple, a voice in the back of his mind whispered. You know that better than anyone.

He ignored it and climbed onto the bus.

Inside, the students had settled into a chaotic but comfortable arrangement. Midoriya was near the front, still scribbling in his notebook. Bakugo had claimed a seat in the back, glaring at everyone who came too close. Todoroki sat alone by a window, staring out at the passing scenery. The others were scattered throughout, chatting and laughing.

Gojo took a seat near the middle, close enough to intervene if needed but far enough back to observe. His Six Eyes never stopped moving, tracking every student, every movement, every shift in the environment around them.

Aizawa stood at the front, holding onto a pole as the bus started moving. "Listen up," he said, his tired voice somehow carrying over the chatter. "The USJ—Unforeseen Simulation Joint—is a comprehensive training facility designed for disaster rescue scenarios. You'll be working with the Space Hero: Thirteen today, learning proper rescue techniques and protocols."

"Thirteen?!" Several students perked up with excitement.

"The rescue hero!" Midoriya's eyes sparkled. "They're amazing! Their quirk, Black Hole, can suck up anything and turn it to dust! They've saved thousands of people from all kinds of disasters!"

"Yes, thank you for the exposition, Midoriya," Aizawa said dryly. "As I was saying, today is about learning rescue operations. Not every hero situation involves fighting villains. Sometimes the greatest heroism is in saving lives during natural disasters, accidents, or other crises."

"But we will learn to fight villains eventually, right?" Kirishima asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"That's what All Might's hero training sessions are for," Aizawa replied. "Today is specifically about rescue work. Pay attention, take it seriously, and try not to destroy anything expensive."

From his seat, Gojo listened with half his attention, the other half still fixated on that persistent wrongness he couldn't shake. His fingers drummed against his leg in an uncharacteristic display of restlessness.

Something's going to happen. I know it. I can feel it. But what? When? How?

"Gojo-sensei?"

He looked up to find Tsuyu watching him, her large eyes blinking slowly. "You seem tense, ribbit. Is everything okay?"

Several other students turned to look, curiosity in their expressions.

Gojo forced his smile to widen, injecting false cheer into his voice. "Me? Tense? Nah, I'm good, Tsuyu. Just thinking about how I'm going to grade your rescue performances today. Hope you all studied!"

"We're being graded?!" Kaminari yelped.

"Of course we're being graded," Yaoyorozu said, looking at him like he'd asked if water was wet. "This is a school."

As the students dissolved into debate about grading criteria, Gojo felt Aizawa's eyes on him. The homeroom teacher looked concerned but didn't say anything, just gave a small nod that said I'm watching too. We've got this.

Gojo nodded back, trying to believe it.

The bus continued its journey toward the USJ, carrying Class 1-A toward what should have been a simple rescue training exercise.

But Y/N Gojo's Six Eyes continued to scan, search, and analyze, his instincts screaming warnings he couldn't interpret.

Something's coming. Something bad. And when it does...

His hand clenched into a fist, invisible energy rippling around it for just a moment before he forced himself to relax.

When it does, I'll be ready. Whatever threatens these kids, whatever's out there... it'll have to go through me first.

And I don't plan on moving.

The bus rolled on toward the USJ, toward disaster, toward the moment when Y/N Gojo's bad feeling would prove horrifyingly justified.

But for now, in this brief moment before everything changed, Class 1-A continued their excited chatter, blissfully unaware of the storm about to break over their heads.

The USJ loomed before them like a massive geometric dome, its structure both impressive and imposing against the clear sky. As the bus came to a stop and the doors hissed open, Class 1-A filed out with a mixture of awe and excitement.

"Whoa..." Kirishima breathed, staring up at the facility. "This place is huge!"

"It's like a theme park!" Ashido added, practically bouncing on her heels.

Standing at the entrance, striking a heroic pose with their hands on their hips, was the Space Hero: Thirteen. Their bulky space suit gleamed white in the sunlight, the helmet's visor reflecting the students' excited faces.

"Welcome, everyone!" Thirteen's voice was warm and enthusiastic, amplified slightly by their suit's speakers. "I'm so glad to have you here at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint! We're going to have a wonderful learning experience today!"

"THIRTEEN!" Midoriya and Uraraka practically squealed in unison, stars in their eyes. "We love your work!"

"Thank you!" Thirteen pressed their hands together in a gesture of humble appreciation. "Your enthusiasm makes teaching so rewarding!"

Y/N Gojo hung back slightly as the students crowded forward to greet the rescue hero. His Six Eyes continued their relentless scanning of the facility—the massive dome structure, the various disaster zones visible inside, the intricate architecture designed for maximum training versatility.

It's impressive, he admitted internally. But that glass... one decent hit and the whole thing comes down. Structurally vulnerable. Not great for a facility that's supposed to withstand disaster simulations.

Aizawa approached Thirteen, and Gojo's enhanced hearing easily picked up the rescue hero's lowered voice despite the distance and the students' chatter.

"Aizawa," Thirteen said quietly, their usual cheer dimming slightly. "I'm sorry, but All Might isn't coming. He used up his time limit doing hero work this morning—apparently there were three villain incidents back-to-back. He's resting now."

Aizawa's jaw tightened, his exhausted eyes narrowing. "That idiot. He knows better than to push himself like that."

"He sends his apologies," Thirteen continued. "He really wanted to be here."

"Damn it," Aizawa muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "First the schedule gets compressed because of your meeting, now All Might's out. This day just keeps getting better."

Gojo stepped up beside them, his casual smile in place despite the tension still coiled in his gut. "Hey, look on the bright side, Shouta. You've still got me. And I'm at least seventy percent as inspiring as All Might. Maybe seventy-five percent on a good day."

"That's not the comfort you think it is," Aizawa replied dryly, but some of the tension left his shoulders. "Fine. We'll make do. Thirteen, let's keep this moving. The faster we get through the basics, the faster we can get them back to campus."

"Of course!" Thirteen's enthusiasm returned as they turned back to the students. "Alright, everyone! Let's head inside, and I'll explain what we'll be working on today!"

The massive doors to the USJ slid open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the stunning interior. The facility was even more impressive from inside—a vast space divided into distinct disaster zones. There was a landslide zone with crumbling rocks and debris, a conflagration zone with controlled fire systems, a flood zone with rushing water, a windstorm zone with visible air currents, and more. In the center of it all was a large fountain, water sparkling under the facility's artificial lighting.

"Wow!" The students' collective gasp of amazement echoed through the space.

"This is incredible!" Yaoyorozu breathed, her analytical mind already cataloging the different training scenarios.

"I call the fire zone!" Bakugo declared immediately.

"No one's 'calling' anything," Aizawa shot him down. "You'll train where you're assigned."

As the students filed further into the facility, gathering near the entrance stairs, Thirteen moved to the front to address them. The rescue hero's body language was open and welcoming, designed to put students at ease.

"Before we begin the physical training," Thirteen started, their voice carrying that same warm enthusiasm, "I want to talk to you about something very important. Something that's at the core of rescue work and heroism itself."

The students quieted down, giving Thirteen their attention. Even Bakugo stopped scowling long enough to listen.

"As many of you know," Thirteen continued, holding up one hand, "my quirk is Black Hole. I can suck up and disintegrate anything—dust, debris, entire structures if necessary. It's incredibly useful for rescue operations, clearing paths, and saving lives."

Thirteen paused, and their tone became more serious. "But it's also incredibly dangerous. If I'm not careful, if I don't hold back and control my power precisely, I could kill someone. Instantly. Completely. Without meaning to."

The mood shifted, excitement giving way to somber understanding.

"Every single one of you has a quirk that could be used to kill," Thirteen said, their helmet turning to look at each student in turn. "Bakugo, your explosions could burn someone alive. Todoroki, your ice could freeze someone's heart. Ashido, your acid could dissolve flesh and bone. Kaminari, your electricity could stop someone's heart. Yaoyorozu, you could create a weapon. Tokoyami, Dark Shadow could tear someone apart."

The students shifted uncomfortably, some looking down at their hands as if seeing them for the first time.

"I'm not saying this to scare you," Thirteen clarified quickly. "I'm saying this because you need to understand the weight of the power you carry. In this world of ours, where so many people have superhuman abilities, it's easy to forget that we're all still human underneath. Fragile. Mortal."

Thirteen pressed their hands together again, this time in a gesture of earnest sincerity. "The true mark of a hero isn't how powerful your quirk is. It's knowing when to hold back. It's having the control and the compassion to save lives instead of taking them. Your quirks were given to you to help people, to rescue them, to make the world a better place. Never forget that."

There was a moment of profound silence as the message sank in. Even Bakugo looked contemplative, his usual scowl softened slightly.

"That's the goal of this facility," Thirteen concluded, their enthusiasm returning. "To teach you how to use your powers to save lives in all kinds of disaster scenarios. Today, you'll learn that being a hero is about more than fighting villains—it's about being there when people need you most."

"Thank you, Thirteen!" Iida called out, his hand chopping through the air. "That was a very moving and educational speech!"

"Yeah, that was actually pretty cool," Kirishima agreed, wiping at his eyes. "Really manly."

Gojo stood slightly behind Aizawa, arms crossed, his Six Eyes never stopping their constant surveillance of the facility. Thirteen's speech was good—genuinely good, the kind of foundational ethics every hero student needed to hear.

But that wrongness was still there, pressing against his consciousness like a weight.

Something's wrong. Something's wrong. Something's—

His Six Eyes caught something.

Movement near the fountain. Space... distorting?

Gojo's entire body went rigid, his hand shooting out to grab Aizawa's arm. His grip was tight, almost painful, completely unlike his usual casual demeanor.

Thirteen stopped mid-sentence, cutting off as they noticed the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Gojo?" Aizawa turned sharply, recognizing the alarm in his colleague's posture. "What's—"

"There," Gojo interrupted, his voice low and deadly serious. Every trace of playfulness was gone, replaced by something cold and focused. "By the fountain. Space is warping."

Aizawa's eyes snapped to where Gojo was looking, his hand instinctively going to his capture weapon. "I don't see—"

Then it appeared.

A swirling black hole materialized near the fountain, purple and black mist churning like a wound in reality itself. It expanded rapidly, growing from a pinpoint to a massive portal in seconds.

"What is that?!" One of the students gasped.

The portal pulsed, and a hand emerged—pale, slender fingers spreading as if testing the air. Then another hand. Then a figure stepped through, and Gojo's enhanced vision took in every detail with crystalline clarity.

A man—young, probably early twenties, with shaggy light blue hair and unnaturally pale skin. But what made him disturbing was the hands. Severed, preserved hands attached all over his body—one covering his face like a grotesque mask, others on his arms, shoulders, neck. And his eyes, visible through the fingers, were bright red and filled with something between madness and childlike excitement.

He was followed by more figures. Dozens of them. A small army of people stepping through the portal—villains of all shapes and sizes, their intentions clear in their hostile postures and aggressive quirks already activating.

But Gojo's Six Eyes focused on the hand-covered man because he could hear what the others couldn't. Could read the movement of lips behind that palm, could pick up the whispered words carried on air currents no normal person could detect:

"We finally found him."

Those red eyes, visible through the fingers of the severed hand, were staring directly at the students.

No.

Not at the students.

At one student specifically.

At green hair and wide, terrified eyes.

At Izuku Midoriya.

Oh, Gojo's mind worked at superhuman speed, pieces clicking into place. Oh, that's bad. That's very, very bad.

"THIRTEEN! AIZAWA!" Gojo's voice cracked like a whip, his usual casual tone completely abandoned. "GET THE STUDENTS OUT! NOW!"

His shout broke the spell of shocked silence. The students finally registered what they were seeing—villains, dozens of them, in what was supposed to be a secure training facility.

"What—" Kirishima started.

"VILLAINS?!" Kaminari's voice cracked.

"How did they get in here?!" Yaoyorozu demanded, her mind already racing through possibilities.

"This can't be happening," Midoriya whispered, his face pale. "This is U.A. How could villains—"

The blue-haired man—the one Gojo had heard speak—reached up and scratched at his neck with visible agitation, his nails leaving red marks on his pale skin. When he spoke, his voice carried across the facility, high-pitched and excited:

"Hello, heroes! Sorry for the intrusion, but we're here for a very important reason!" His head tilted at an unnatural angle, those red eyes gleaming with manic energy behind the hand-mask. "We heard the great Symbol of Peace would be here today. We came to kill All Might!"

The words hit like a physical blow.

"Kill... All Might?" Midoriya's voice was barely a whisper.

"But he's not here," the villain continued, scratching harder at his neck. "That's disappointing. Really disappointing. But!" His voice rose with disturbing cheer. "We did find something else interesting. Something that might make this trip worthwhile after all."

Those red eyes fixed on Midoriya again, and the villain smiled behind his hand-mask—Gojo could see it in the way the severed hand shifted.

"You," the villain said, pointing directly at Midoriya. "You smell like him. Like All Might. Why is that, I wonder?"

Shit, Gojo thought. Shit, shit, shit. They know. Somehow, they know about the connection between All Might and Midoriya. Which means they know about One For All, or at least suspect something. Which means—

"Thirteen," Aizawa's voice was deadly calm, his eyes already glowing red as he activated Erasure. "Get the students out of the facility. Now. Emergency evacuation protocol."

"But—" Thirteen started.

"NOW!"

"Everyone! Stay together and follow me!" Thirteen shouted, already moving toward the exit, their suit's systems powering up. "Do not engage! This is an evacuation!"

The students started to move, but the villains were faster. The black portal that had brought them suddenly expanded, spreading across the floor between the students and the exit. More villains poured through—muscled thugs, quirked mutants, people with clearly malicious intent written across their faces.

And from the mist itself, a voice emerged—cultured, polite, and absolutely chilling:

"I'm afraid we cannot allow you to leave. Kurogiri, at your service. We've gone through considerable trouble to arrange this meeting. It would be rude to depart so quickly."

The mist coalesced, forming a figure—a man made of shadows and darkness, with glowing yellow eyes and what appeared to be a metal collar around his neck.

"Our goal today is threefold," Kurogiri continued in that unsettlingly polite tone. "First, to ascertain whether All Might is present and, if so, to kill him. Second, to test the capabilities of U.A.'s students and faculty. And third..." Those yellow eyes fixed on Midoriya. "To collect a very interesting specimen for our master."

"Like hell you will!" Bakugo roared, explosions already crackling around his palms.

"Bakugo, no!" Kirishima grabbed his arm.

Aizawa's capture weapon shot forward, binding three villains instantly. "Thirteen! Get them out the side exit! Go!"

"Aizawa, you can't fight all of them alone!" Thirteen protested.

"He's not alone," Gojo said, and his voice had changed completely. Gone was the playful teacher, the casual joker. This was something else—something cold and vast and absolutely certain. "Aizawa handles the small fry. Thirteen gets the students out. I handle the real threats."

He stepped forward, and the air around him began to shimmer with barely contained power. His Six Eyes blazed behind the blindfold, perceiving every villain, every quirk, every possible threat with perfect clarity.

"You made a mistake coming here," Gojo said, his voice carrying across the facility with unnatural clarity. "A big one. You want to know what it is?"

The blue-haired villain tilted his head, intrigued. "Oh? And what's that?"

Gojo's smile returned, but it wasn't playful anymore. It was sharp. Dangerous. The smile of an apex predator that had just spotted prey.

"You brought an army to kill All Might," Gojo said, his tone almost conversational. "But you didn't plan for me. You didn't plan for the strongest."

He raised one hand, and blue energy crackled around his fingers—raw power made visible, space itself bending and warping at his command.

"I'm going to teach you all a very important lesson," Gojo continued, his voice dropping to something quiet and absolutely terrifying. "About what happens when you threaten my students."

The blue-haired villain's eyes widened with recognition and something that might have been fear. "Wait... you're—"

"Domain Expansion," Gojo said calmly, his hands forming a complex gesture. "Unlimited Void."

The world went white.

And Class 1-A's first real battle began.