"Fire Style: Great Flame Annihilation!"
BOOM!!!
A deafening roar erupted as an ocean of flames surged forward, colliding head-on with Todoroki's wall of ice. The force was immense, so much so that even the Cement Division had to hastily reinforce the arena's barriers to contain the blast.
BOOM!!!
The shockwave rippled through the stadium like a hurricane. Wind whipped around violently, tearing ribbons and banners free from their moorings and hurling them skyward. The explosion ignited the floating debris mid-air, sending orange-red embers swirling like angry fireflies.
Gasps echoed from the audience stands.
If the Cement Division hadn't prepared countermeasures beforehand, the fallout might've left a disaster in its wake. Scorched smoke plumed upward, blanketing the sky momentarily.
The fire raged for more than ten seconds before it finally subsided.
When the smoke cleared, everything flammable in the vicinity had been reduced to ash. Burned turf, charred metal, blackened stands—it was a war zone, not an arena.
Shoto Todoroki had already been blasted out of the ring.
Only the scorched remains of his last ice wall hinted at his final stand.
"Quickly! Get that fire out!" Present Mic's voice rang out, unusually urgent. The pro hero leapt to his feet, panic flashing in his eyes as he shouted into his mic.
Responding with trained speed, the stadium's security team sprang into action. Fire-suppressant foam blanketed the battlefield as support staff activated safety systems to quench the remaining flames.
Madara stood near the edge of the scorched field, hands half-raised, preparing to unleash a Water Style jutsu of his own. But upon seeing the pros taking care of it, he simply lowered his hands again.
"No need to interfere when they're already handling it," he muttered, brushing soot off his sleeve. The faintest smirk played at the corner of his lips.
…
Within minutes, the fire was extinguished, though the air still reeked of scorched plastic and burnt concrete. The aftermath was chaotic, but no one had been seriously hurt, thanks to the pros' fast response.
In the audience, whispers turned to open chatter.
"This guy… Madara… he's that strong?" Yaoyorozu Momo sat in the reserved student seating area, one hand supporting her chin as her eyes remained fixed on the battlefield.
Behind her, Izuku Midoriya leaned forward. "Yaoyorozu-san, you and Uchiha seem to be on pretty good terms… Do you know how powerful hy is?"
"I haven't known him that long," Momo replied honestly, not taking her eyes off Madara. "So… no. I don't."
"Oh, I see." Midoriya sat back with a sheepish smile, slightly disappointed. He'd hoped to get more insight into the powerhouse who had just demolished one of the most gifted students at U.A. like it was nothing.
The Ceremony
Half an hour passed, enough for the stadium to be reset and cleaned up. All the participants—save for the top three—had returned to the center field in their competition gear, lined up neatly.
Facing them were rows of reporters, microphones at the ready, and cameramen snapping away as flashes lit up the scene.
"This year's U.A. High School Sports Festival for the first-year students has officially concluded!" Midnight announced from the front, her voice sultry yet energetic.
"And now… we begin the awards ceremony!"
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
Fireworks ignited above the arena, bursting into colorful blooms that rained confetti across the stage. The hazy smoke added an ethereal glow as a podium slowly rose from the ground, ornately decorated, shimmering in the spotlight.
Standing atop the platform: Shoto Todoroki in third place, Tokoyami Fumikage in second, and Uchiha Madara in first.
All three were calm, composed, though each wore a different expression. Todoroki was contemplative, Tokoyami stoic. But it was Madara who stood like a general on a battlefield—silent, unreadable, and towering.
Envy rippled through the crowd like a wave.
"And the person presenting this year's medals needs no introduction…" Midnight gestured upward. "The Symbol of Peace himself!"
All heads turned to the top of the stadium. There, framed by the light, stood a towering man in a blue-and-red hero outfit—muscles bulging, cape fluttering in the breeze.
All Might.
A storm of cheers erupted.
"It's All Might!"
"He's here!"
Even the professional heroes in the guest stands stood to applaud.
"Ho!"
All Might leapt from the top platform and flipped gracefully in midair, landing with practiced flair. The crowd erupted in another wave of thunderous applause.
The No.1 Hero grinned broadly, white teeth gleaming as he waved to the crowd.
"Thank you, thank you! What a festival it's been!"
He turned to the three students on the podium. "So many powerful young heroes this year... You've made it incredibly exciting for all of us."
Professional heroes around the arena nodded in agreement. A few murmured about the impressive talent that had emerged, especially the boy with the eyes of a war god.
"Let's begin with the bronze medal." Midnight handed over a shining bronze medallion.
All Might walked over to Tokoyami Fumikage first.
"Tokoyami-kun," he said warmly, hanging the medal around the boy's neck. "You fought valiantly. Your control over Dark Shadow is improving, but remember…"
He leaned in and gave the boy a bear hug.
"…don't rely too heavily on your Quirk. Build your fundamentals. The stronger your foundation, the more options you'll have in the future."
"Understood," Tokoyami replied with a respectful bow.
Next, All Might turned to Todoroki.
"Boom Boy!" he laughed, gently placing the silver medal around Todoroki's neck. "You've come far, but there's one more hurdle."
Todoroki looked up at him, confused.
All Might gave him a firm hug. "How about trying to accept yourself once in a while?"
Todoroki blinked. "What?"
"You've got power in both hands. Fire or ice—it's all yours. Not your father's. Not anyone else's. Just yours." His voice was firm, almost fatherly.
"…I'll try," Todoroki muttered.
All Might gave him a small nod, then moved on.
The gold medal gleamed in his hand as he approached Uchiha Madara.
"Uchiha-kun," he said, "it's your turn—"
Madara raised a hand and pressed it flatly against All Might's chest, halting him mid-step.
"No hugs. Just hang it up," he said coldly. "And spare me the usual sentimental speech."
All Might blinked, slightly thrown off. "I… haven't said anything yet."
"You were going to. Let's not pretend otherwise."
The silence that followed was palpable.
Madara's expression was unreadable as All Might hesitated. Then, with a small sigh, the hero gently placed the gold medal around Madara's neck.
"You've got immense strength," All Might said quietly. "But strength alone doesn't make a hero."
Madara didn't respond. His Sharingan eyes, now dull from inactivity, held a quiet challenge.
All Might straightened, then turned toward the reporters, his usual smile returning to his face.
But in the back of his mind, unease lingered.
Something about this boy felt… different.
Not just in power. But in the present.
The kind of presence that shook even a seasoned hero's instincts.
As the cameras flashed and the cheers continued, Madara stood still on the podium, arms folded.
This victory meant little to him.
The stage, the spotlight, the applause—it was all superficial.
He was not here to entertain.
He was here to rule.