"Okay, now Uchiha from Class 1-A has reached the final level… and what awaits him is—"
"A huge minefield!"
Present Mic's booming voice echoed across the stadium, causing another wave of murmurs among the crowd.
"This arrangement's pretty nasty!" the host continued with a teasing grin. "But it's fair game. If you look carefully, you can spot where the mines are planted. Use your eyes… and your instincts!"
Spread before Uchiha Madara was an open wasteland dotted with countless circular dents—silent markers of danger. Each depression could be a trigger, waiting for the slightest pressure.
On the commentator's platform, Present Mic leaned over the microphone. "Oh, and for the record… These landmines are special models for the sports festival! They won't do serious damage, but the noise? The shock? Let's just say… You'll wish you packed an extra pair of pants!"
Laughter rippled from the crowd.
Madara, standing at the edge of the minefield, chuckled. "A minefield?" His lips curled into a faint smirk. "Then I'll just fly over it."
It wasn't arrogance—it was a simple fact.
For Madara, soaring over a minefield was child's play.
But for someone like Bakugo Katsuki, who still struggled with fine control over his explosive propulsion, it was a disaster waiting to happen. A single misfire, and the mines would detonate beneath him.
Madara adjusted his collar slightly. "I'll be taking the first-place finish now."
"STOP RIGHT THERE, PINK EYE!!!"
"UCHIHA!!!"
Behind him, Bakugo and Shoto Todoroki surged forward almost simultaneously, both faces contorted with competitive fire. Their gazes locked onto Madara with equal parts fury and determination.
Madara turned his head slightly, flashing a lazy wave.
"See you at the finish line."
And then—he bent his knees and… lifted.
With a gentle push, he rose from the ground, hovering effortlessly a few feet above the earth.
"HUH?! Am I seeing this right?! Uchiha from Class 1-A is… flying?!" Present Mic's voice cracked, half disbelief, half excitement.
"…Flying?" Aizawa Shouta, arms crossed beside him, stared blankly at the screen.
Hypnosis.
Blue skeletal armor.
Breathes fire.
Moves like a shadow.
And now… flight?
How many Quirks does this kid have?!
The crowd erupted into a storm of cheers and awed gasps.
"Wooooaaahhhh!!!"
"Is this even legal?!"
"Who the hell IS this guy?!"
Madara's figure drifted lightly across the minefield, the soles of his feet never once touching the ground. The mines remained silent beneath him, powerless to affect a target out of reach.
Present Mic practically screamed into the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, in 6 minutes and 10 seconds, Uchiha Madara crosses the finish line! That's the fastest record in the First-Year Division of U.A. Sports Festival history!!"
The stadium roared.
Half an hour later, the last of the straggling students limped past the finish line—most scorched, bruised, or covered in dirt.
Where Madara stood coolly with arms folded, not even a hair out of place, his classmates arrived in varying degrees of disarray.
"Madara," Yaoyorozu Momo huffed, cheeks flushed and sweat trickling down her temple. "Isn't… your Quirk… Hypnosis? How come you… have so many abilities?"
She paused, eyes narrowing. "You… didn't sneak in gear, did you?"
Madara smiled faintly. "Let's call it a trade secret."
"Ugh." Momo scowled, crossing her arms. "You're impossible."
Upon the podium, Midnight raised her riding crop, voice echoing over the arena.
"The First-Year Preliminary Round has officially ended! And now… let's see the final rankings!"
The giant screen lit up.
1st Place — Uchiha Madara (Class 1-A)
2nd Place — Bakugo Katsuki (Class 1-A)
3rd Place — Todoroki Shoto (Class 1-A)
4th Place — Midoriya Izuku (Class 1-A)
5th Place — Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu (Class 1-B)
6th Place — Kendo Itsuka (Class 1-B)
…
Top 42 pass the preliminaries!
"The rest of you," Midnight smirked, twirling her whip, "don't be discouraged. The Sports Festival isn't just about winning. Everyone has their stage to shine."
Her smile sharpened.
"But now… The Main Event begins."
The crowd fell silent in anticipation.
"As for the next round…" Midnight winked, snapping her whip. "Let me explain!"
The screen scrolled behind her, finally stopping on bold, gleaming letters.
"Cavalry Battle!"
A chorus of surprised gasps echoed from the student groups.
Midnight leaned on the podium. "The rules are simple. Form teams of two to four students. One rides as the 'rider,' the others act as 'horses.'"
A few students muttered among themselves, already thinking of potential teammates.
"But… here's the twist," Midnight's grin widened.
"The rider will wear a headband displaying their points, based on their placement in the first round."
The screen scrolled again.
"The further back you placed… the fewer points you have. But the higher you ranked…" Midnight flicked her whip toward the giant scoreboard.
The top of the list glowed.
Uchiha Madara — 10 Million Points
"TEN MILLION POINTS?!?!?"
The stadium erupted in stunned cries.
"WHAT?! Are you kidding?!"
"Is this a joke?!"
"Ten… million?!"
In the crowd, Momo blinked, muttering, "That's… excessive."
Someone beside her groaned. "Forget it. I'm not going after him."
"You're all cowards." Bakugo cracked his knuckles, glaring at Madara. "I don't care if it's ten million or ten billion… I'm coming for that headband."
Midnight twirled her whip again, the tip snapping with a sharp crack.
"I think you get the idea now."
"The higher your ranking, the more dangerous your position."
"This is the brutal reality of Hero life… The stronger you are, the more enemies you'll attract."
"And that… is why you must always—PLUS ULTRA!"
She thrust her whip toward Madara.
"Uchiha Madara, you're officially the target everyone will be gunning for!"
On the teacher's bench, All Might crossed his arms, watching Madara silently.
Cementoss leaned over. "Think he'll hold up?"
All Might gave a small smile. "If there's anyone in this stadium who doesn't break under pressure… It's him."
Madara stood calmly amidst the gathering storm.
He could feel it already—the weight of countless gazes burning into his back. Jealousy. Hatred. Curiosity.
It was nothing new.
In the world he came from, he was the enemy of nations.
A student festival?
Child's play.
A slow grin touched his lips.
"Let them come."
---
A/N: Advance Chapters have been uploaded on my Patreon, please do check it out, it will mean a lot to me
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