Days passed quietly. Wendigo and Mewtwo stayed holed up in the cave, spending most of their time fishing or venturing out briefly to gather fruit.
With no pressing reason to keep fighting, they chose to lay low. Picking unnecessary battles would only hurt their classmates' chances of passing the test, so they kept their presence minimal, drifting through the rest of the week in near silence.
Meanwhile, the other groups slowly accumulated their points. Many chose a cautious, strategic approach—setting ambushes, but targeting only one opponent at a time. Instead of full-on confrontations, they focused on separating team members, isolating and overwhelming the remaining one.
It wasn't the flashiest method, but it worked. As the days dragged on, more and more groups secured their points through careful planning and patience.
By the end of the week, when the countdown finally hit zero, everyone gathered at the beach indicated in the watches for the final assessment.
Most were visibly worn out—bruises covered arms and faces, and their hero suits were torn and stained from the week's use. Only a handful looked remotely composed. The rest bore expressions of utter exhaustion, eyes heavy with fatigue and bodies slumped with the stress of the week.
As the students regrouped on the sand, the tension became palpable. Some stood with quiet pride, while others carried the heavy weight of disappointment. It was clear—some hadn't made it.
Suddenly, the sound of an engine cut through the ocean breeze. A sleek, fast-moving sports boat sliced across the water and crashed into the shallow surf with practiced ease. Two figures jumped out immediately: Snipe and Ectoplasm.
Both instructors stepped onto the sand, scanning the worn-out faces of their students. Snipe was the first to speak, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the waves.
"We've been watching all of you for the past several days—day and night," he began, with a steady and clear voice.
"Every one of you showed incredible resilience. You pushed through, even when things got tough. Not a single one of you hit the extraction button. That alone says a lot, congratulations to everyone for the effort." He paused, letting his words settle before continuing.
"But this was a formal test. And unfortunately, not everyone managed to earn the required eight points. That said, we're now going to announce the groups that passed, in the order they achieved their points."
Ectoplasm stepped forward, holding a small tablet. His tone was calm and direct.
"First group, with a time of 6 hours and 34 minutes—Lemillion and Painting Wave. Congratulations on being the fastest team to reach eight points."
A light ripple of applause followed, mixed with murmurs. Then he continued.
"Second group: Mewtwo and Wendigo, at 48 hours and 6 minutes. Well done."
"Third group: Suneater and Skyhunter 50 hours and 3 minutes. good job"
"Fourth group: Bloomblade and waterrush, at 59hours and 5 minutes."
"Fifth group: Nejire-chan and Revery."
As the names were read, a strange silence settled over the beach. Snipe's voice had been firm but fair, yet his words cut deep. The students who passed exchanged looks—part pride, part guilt. They had succeeded, but not all their friends had.
"In one month, the Hero Public Safety Commission will hold the first official Provisional Hero License Exam," Ectoplasm announced, his voice carrying clearly across the group.
"This exam will take place across multiple schools. Those of you who passed the mock test have earned the right to take the provisional license exam. However," he added, pausing to add a dramatic touch.
"this doesn't mean those who didn't pass are out of the run. There's still a chance—but only if they commit to an intensive training program. Without it, passing the real exam will be extremely difficult."
At that, two hands shot up. It was Taro and David. David was the first to speak, his tone earnest but frustrated.
"Teacher, even if we lost this time, that doesn't mean we're weak," he said. "Why would we be more likely to fail the next one? I still think we'd have a decent shot."
Snipe stepped forward to respond, arms crossed. His voice was calm, but he maintained a firm undertone.
"The Hero License Exam isn't like our school tests," he explained. "It's not just about effort or even skill alone. You won't just be competing against first-year students—you'll be facing second and third years too. Across the country, more than 1,400 students will take the test... and only 100 maximum will earn a provisional license."
He let the weight of the number settle before continuing.
"This isn't about choosing the best. It's about making sure our students have the highest possible chance of passing. That's why the standards are so high. We're preparing you for a battlefield, not just a classroom."
After that, no one argued. With odds like that, it made sense why U.A. enforced such strict expectations. The silence that followed wasn't for defeat—it was understanding.
Once the test officially ended, the rest of the teachers arrived at the beach.
To everyone's surprise, they declared an unexpected three-day break.
They came with food, proper shelters, and enough supplies to turn the beach into a temporary resort.
Their message was clear: balance mattered. The test had been brutal—mentally, physically, emotionally—and every student deserved a moment to breathe.
That was what the principal had said, at least… though no one questioned why he also brought enough chairs, tables, grills, and coolers for a full-blown barbecue party that could've lasted a week.
The students didn't waste any time. There were no complaints—only laughter and relief. They embraced the break fully, stretching out on the sand or diving into the waves.
Eventually, Mewtwo and Wendigo deactivated their transformations, returning to their human forms.
Mewtwo—now Raiden again—felt strangely off. He had spent so much time in his combat form that his human body felt… unfamiliar.
The most jarring part was the size difference. His combat form stood nearly 1.95 meters tall. Now, back in his regular body, he was just 1.70 meters.
Everything around him felt slightly bigger, and he caught himself stumbling a bit, needing to readjust his balance and perspective.
The teachers had brought a more than a set of spare clothes for everyone.
They pitched tents near the treeline, and the students took turns changing. Most ended up wearing basic school gym clothes, but for many, that was enough. A few switched into the school's official swimwear because they wanted to enjoy the sea.
For the boys, it was a simple pair of dark swim shorts that dried within just a minute—a true wonder of modern fabric technology.
As Raiden sat on the sand, letting the breeze dry his skin, a thought tugged at the back of his mind.
The technology in this world is ridiculous.
He couldn't help but reflect. Despite all the advances—quirk-based tech, miracle fabrics, instant shelters—people still got sick. Not even a year ago, a villain they'd fought had managed to create an entirely new lifeform from scratch… and yet common diseases still existed.
It doesn't make any sense, he thought. At this point, shouldn't doctors only be needed for Quirk-related injuries or physical trauma?
"At this point, shouldn't doctors only be dealing with Quirk-related injuries or accidents?" he muttered to himself. At least the flu had been eradicated a couple of years ago, but the rest... still lingered. And despite that, some people were out there engineering life from scratch. It felt ridiculous.
All of it was strange. Too strange.
"Why am I can't stop thinking so much lately?" he wondered.
That, too, felt out of place. With a sigh, Raiden stood and stepped out of the tent, already dressed. He pushed the thoughts aside—he couldn't do anything about them right now. There was a time for reflection, but that time wasn't now. Now was for relaxing.
As he stepped onto the sun-warmed sand, he took a moment to look around. The beach was alive with energy. Everyone was there, laughing, playing, soaking in the break after the intense week they'd just endured.
He glanced down at himself, a bit surprised. His body had changed so much since the start of the year—he'd packed on muscle in ways he hadn't thought possible so quickly.
His chest was defined, his abs firm, his arms and shoulders broader. Even his legs had thickened with strength. He wasn't being arrogant, just honest—he felt proud of the work he'd put in.
And it wasn't just him. Most of his classmates had developed physically, whether they trained for close combat or not. Strength was practically a requirement at U.A., and it showed. Among them, Rei and Mirio stood out the most. Both of them were starting to cross into actual bodybuilding territory, and for someone only sixteen, that was saying something.
Then there were the girls.
Raiden would be lying if he said he didn't notice them.
Even though the school-issued swimsuits were fairly modest—one-piece suits that covered everything but arms and legs, with shorts-like bottoms—they couldn't completely hide how much everyone had grown.
There was a kind of quiet maturity settling over the group of girls, and for Raiden, seeing his classmates in this new light felt like walking through a door he hadn't realized was there.
His gaze drifted, just a curious gaze, something inevitable. And then Nejire caught him looking.
She waved at him with a bright, innocent smile, and for a split second, Raiden seriously considered using Calm Mind on himself.
But instead, he smiled back and made his way toward her, pretending like nothing had happened. Still, his eyes casually scanned the beach—just for research purposes, of course, and then they settled over Nejire.
When he reached her, she was pouting.
"Nee, Nee, you shouldn't have interfered before. That was unfair," she said, crossing her arms. "I thought you weren't going to hit me."
Ah, she meant during the test. He had surprised her during their match—ambushed her, really.
"Hahaha, sorry, sorry," Raiden replied, scratching the back of his head. "But other people were watching. I had to end the fight and, well... earn those points to pass. Looks like your team did fine though."
"Mm? Yup," Nejire nodded. "We fought another group and won. But—" she leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper, "it wasn't that fun, you know? We won too fast, you know?"
Raiden nodded slightly. He knew exactly what she meant. Their battle had been the hardest of all—the most intense and the most demanding, in the previous one, Raiden didn't end with any injuries, even if he was trow to the sea, it wasn't enough to hurt him, but in his fight with Nejire, the tricky of Alice Quirk made quite difficult to fight, and for the first time he felt in a pinch, not because the girl strength but because the trickiest of the Quirk.
He'd nearly lost, and if he hadn't pulled off that borderline reckless final attack, he would've.
Honestly, he still didn't know how to counter Alice's Quirk. It messed directly with his senses. Maybe if he learned to manually override that part of his mind? But he had no clue how to even begin doing that. One thing was clear: currently, she was the most annoying opponent in school, even more than Mirio.
Still, back to the present.
"Haha, yeah, our battle was fun," Raiden said with a grin. "To make up for that sneak attack... I've got something for you, I learned how to do something interesting in the water, I think you could like it."
"Oh?" Nejire tilted her head. "What is it? Something interesting? That sounds fun, let's see, let's see"
"oh it is interesting, is an invitation actually," he said, holding out a hand.
"Nee, Invitation to what?"
"To dive."
Her expression lit up with curiosity, and Raiden smiled wider. There was nothing like the sea to forget the weight of the world—or an ambush from the hand of your classmate.
end of the chapter.