The day of U.A.'s Sports Festival arrived with terrifying swiftness, like a storm that had gathered on the horizon and now crashed down upon the campus. The usually calm and orderly campus, resembling a military base, had transformed into a bubbling cauldron of energy, where the emotions of thousands of spectators filling the massive stadium's stands merged into a deafening roar, akin to the ocean's bellow. Their voices, shouts, applause, and stomping feet echoed in the air, creating an almost tangible vibration that seeped into the bones. Flags bearing U.A.'s emblem—a stylized letter symbolizing heroism and discipline—fluttered in the wind, their bright blue fabrics flapping like the wings of enormous birds. Giant screens installed around the stadium's perimeter broadcast vibrant footage from past festivals: heroes of yore, like All Might, exploding the arena with their feats, fueling the crowd's hype. The spectators, from children in shirts with logos of their favorite heroes to professional scouts with notebooks, were electrified with anticipation. For them, this was a show, a celebration of strength and ambition. For the students, especially the first-years like Arashi Tanaka, it was their first real chance to show themselves to the world, to prove they were worthy of becoming heroes. But for Arashi, the Sports Festival meant something more: it was not only a test of his physical abilities but also a check of his control over his Quirk, over the dark forces of the Nazgûl that dwelled in his mind, and, most importantly, over himself.
Two weeks had passed since Arashi began intensive training in the gym, where he could hone his Quirk. There, he mastered summoning Morgoth, the black steed whose power and speed made it ideal for mobility, and the Morgul blade—a weapon that didn't just cut but suppressed the will, instilling fear in everything nearby. Every night after exhausting workouts, Arashi returned home, where, sitting under the dim light of his desk lamp in his room, he flipped through the pages of Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings." He searched for details that could help him better understand his Quirk. The Nazgûl in the books were embodiments of horror; their presence made hearts freeze, and their steeds—black as night itself—enhanced their mobility, allowing them to move at incredible speeds.
The blades they wielded carried echoes of ancient magic, capable of subjugating and destroying. Arashi had learned to summon these elements in controlled conditions, where the walls were reinforced to withstand the most powerful Quirks. But the Sports Festival was entirely different. There were no safe walls or teachers ready to intervene. Here, there were thousands of eyes watching his every move, cameras broadcasting his actions to the entire world, professional heroes evaluating potential, and, worst of all, his classmates from Class 1-A—Bakugo with his explosive fury, Todoroki with his icy determination, Midoriya with his unmatched will. Each of them was ready to give their all to claim first place. Arashi had to not only withstand this competition but also prove that his Quirk was not a curse, as he sometimes feared, but a power worthy of a hero.
Arashi stood in the tunnel leading to the arena, alongside Class 1-A. Arashi clenched his fists, feeling his heart pounding in his chest like a drum counting down the final seconds before battle. His breathing was heavy, but he tried to keep himself in check. Ahead, Midoriya nervously muttered something, his brows furrowed, his eyes darting as if he were mentally reviewing everything he knew about his classmates.
Uraraka, standing nearby, bounced on the spot, her brown eyes shining with enthusiasm, and her smile so wide it seemed she might float away from the overflowing energy.
Bakugo, as always, kept to himself, his face blazing with determination, his hands sparking, ready to explode at any moment. Todoroki stood motionless, Kirishima, with his boundless energy, slapped everyone on the shoulders, shouting: "Let's show them some manliness! Come on, guys, let's tear them apart!" His red hair stuck out like flames, and his smile was infectious, even amid the tense atmosphere.
Present Mic's voice, the Festival's host, boomed from the loudspeakers, making Arashi flinch: "Welcome to U.A.'s Sports Festival! Today, the young heroes will show what they're made of!
The first event—the obstacle race! Are you ready, first-years?!" His voice, amplified by the microphone, was like a thunderclap, full of enthusiasm and charisma, making the blood boil in the veins. The crowd roared in response, their bellow so powerful it seemed the stadium walls were shaking. Arashi felt his blood heating up, adrenaline pulsing in his temples. The race. The first event, where mobility would be key. His Quirk, Morgoth, was made for this. He closed his eyes for a moment, checking the mental wall he had erected in his mind to hold back the Nazgûl. Their whisper, cold and sinister, was barely audible but still present: "We wait... Call us..." Arashi gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing. "Only Morgoth. And maybe the blade. Not you," he mentally replied, strengthening his control. He couldn't afford to lose control here, in front of the whole country.
Class 1-A and the other students emerged onto the starting line—a massive platform in front of the stadium, surrounded by barriers and cameras that buzzed like a swarm of insects, capturing every gesture. In the distance, obstacles loomed: narrow tunnels, high walls, water pits, robotic traps built on U.A.'s advanced technology. Each barrier was designed to test not only physical strength but also ingenuity, tactics, and Quirk control. Arashi took a spot in the back row, away from the crowd, to focus. He noticed Bakugo glancing at him with contempt, his lips curling into a sneer as if saying: "You're nobody." Todoroki simply nodded, his face impassive, but the gesture carried a cold assessment of his rival. Midoriya gave Arashi an encouraging look, his green eyes glowing with warmth, but then turned away, focusing on the course. Arashi took a deep breath, trying to calm his wildly pounding heart. He knew his Quirk stood out, evoking fear, even revulsion in some. But today, he had to use it to prove he wasn't a monster.
Present Mic roared: "On your marks... Get set... GO!" His voice tore through the air, and the starting line exploded into motion. The crowd of students surged forward like a pack of unleashed beasts, their footsteps thundering on the ground. Bakugo blasted off, using explosions to propel himself from the ground, his shout "Die!" echoing across the field, full of rage and challenge. Todoroki, wasting no time, created an icy path that instantly froze the tunnel exit, blocking the way for others. His movements were precise, almost surgical, and the ice gleamed under the sun like a mirror. He glided along his path, overtaking Bakugo, his figure seeming almost ghostly against the pristine white ice. Uraraka touched herself, nullifying gravity, and leaped forward, floating above the ground.
Arashi inhaled deeper, closed his eyes, and focused, blocking out the crowd's noise, Present Mic's shouts, the hum of cameras.
"Morgoth," he mentally called. A chill spread through his body like an icy torrent, piercing to the bone. The air around him darkened, as if the sun were momentarily obscured by a cloud. Shadows thickened at his feet, swirling like black smoke, and before him materialized a black horse—enormous, with eyes burning crimson, and a mane undulating like dark mist. Its hooves didn't touch the ground but glided over it, leaving a thin layer of frost behind. The spectators in the stands gasped, their voices falling silent for a moment, then erupting into a new roar—a mix of surprise, fear, and admiration. Cameras turned toward Arashi, their lenses greedily capturing every detail. He felt pressure in his head—the Nazgûl's whisper, cold and insistent: "We are here... Let us out..." Arashi reinforced his mental wall, his will like a steel barrier. "Only you, Morgoth," he mentally commanded.
He climbed into the saddle, woven from shadows, his fingers gripping invisible reins. Morgoth bolted forward, his hooves striking the ground silently but with such force that the grass beneath them frosted over, and the earth trembled slightly. Arashi raced, overtaking students from the general course, who froze, sensing the cold horror emanating from the horse. Their faces paled, some stepping back, unable to resist the aura of fear that Morgoth radiated. The horse's speed was incredible—it glided like a shadow, bypassing Todoroki's icy path that still sparkled in the sun. Arashi began gradually closing the distance to the leaders—Bakugo, Todoroki. He overtook one student after another, maneuvering between them with ease, like a shadow skimming over water. His gym training had paid off: where summoning Morgoth used to drain him in minutes, now he could sustain the horse longer, though fatigue was already building in his muscles.
Arashi felt a surge of adrenaline, his heart beating in unison with the rhythm of Morgoth's hooves. But the pressure in his head intensified, the Nazgûl's whisper growing louder, piercing through his mental wall: "We can do more... Release us..." He gritted his teeth, his jaw aching from the strain. "No," he mentally replied, bolstering his control. He couldn't let the Nazgûl take over. Not here. Not now.
Suddenly, giant robots loomed before the participants—the same "zero-pointers" from the entrance exam, massive metallic machines with red sensors glowing like predators' eyes. Their enormous limbs moved with mechanical precision, blocking the path. For most students, they were an insurmountable obstacle: some tried to go around, others attacked, but the robots were too big and durable. Todoroki, without wasting time, froze one of the robots, turning it into an ice block, and calmly proceeded. Bakugo, with his characteristic roar, blew up the head of another robot, his explosions lighting up the field with bright flashes. Arashi, assessing the situation, spotted a narrow gap between the legs of one robot. It was risky but quick.
"Forward," he mentally commanded Morgoth. The horse charged straight into the gap, its hooves leaving deep tracks, tearing up chunks of earth on sharp turns. Arashi ducked low to the horse's neck, feeling the wind whipping his face. The speed was overwhelming, shadows around Morgoth thickening, creating an almost impenetrable cocoon. The spectators in the stands gasped again, and Present Mic shouted: "Look at this! Arashi Tanaka from Class 1-A is charging on his dark steed like a ghost! This is incredible!"
Arashi was almost out of the robot and student melee when one of the outer robots raised its massive arm for a strike. The metallic limb, the size of a truck, came crashing down with terrifying speed. Arashi acted instinctively. "Blade!" he mentally shouted. The chill in his hand became scorching, and the Morgul blade materialized—long, black, with a green gleam, its edge forged from darkness itself. He swung, meeting the robot's strike. A deafening clang rang out from metal on metal, the sound drowning in the battle's chaos. The impact's force threw Morgoth and Arashi atop him back several meters, pain piercing his body, his arm going numb. The blade shattered into dark particles, vanishing into the air. Arashi slumped in the saddle, breathing heavily, but then glanced at the robot. Its arm was partially mangled, the paint on it dulled, as if the metal had aged in seconds. Arashi blinked, trying to understand what had happened.
Arashi forced himself to sit up straight. His arm ached, but adrenaline dulled the pain. The path was clear. And he surged forward. Ahead loomed the backs of Todoroki and Bakugo, who had already cleared the next chasm—a deep fissure in the ground designed to test agility. Arashi pressed against the horse's neck, squeezing his legs with all his might, and directed Morgoth straight across the chasm. The horse leaped, its hooves flashing in the air, shadows swirling like a vortex. Present Mic roared: "Incredible! Look at Arashi Tanaka from Class 1-A! He's heading straight into the abyss on his horse! Hey, Eraser Head, that's your student, right?"
"Yes," Aizawa replied shortly and disinterestedly, his voice barely audible on air. "He's showing decent results. His individual growth is one of the biggest in the class, comparing the entrance exam to today."
"Hey, hey, buddy, save your words for the other students—you've used up your daily limit on this guy!" Present Mic joked, his voice trembling with excitement. "Look, look! The dark horse with Arashi in the saddle has cleared the second obstacle! He's breathing down Todoroki and Bakugo's necks!"
Arashi felt his strength gradually ebbing. By his calculations, he could overtake Todoroki and Bakugo, but the Nazgûl's whisper grew louder: "We can do more... Release us..." He gritted his teeth, reinforcing his mental wall, his mind trembling from the strain.
His head spun, fatigue mounting, but Arashi didn't stop. The final stage—a minefield littered with explosive traps—lay right ahead. Bakugo led, his explosions clearing the path, leaving smoke and sparks behind. Todoroki was second, freezing mines to pass safely, occasionally deflecting Bakugo's attacks and retaliating. Arashi raced behind Todoroki and Bakugo, Morgoth easily dodging mines, his speed allowing him to avoid explosions. But fatigue was taking its toll. The mental wall in his mind cracked, the Nazgûl's whisper becoming more insistent. He was third, but felt he could surge ahead.
Suddenly, an explosion boomed from behind, powerful and sharp. Arashi turned and saw Midoriya soaring into the air, holding a plate from one of the destroyed robots. In mid-flight, he flipped and threw the plate onto the mines right next to Todoroki and Bakugo. The blast stunned them, slowing them for a split second, and gave Midoriya extra momentum. He surged forward, aiming to overtake the leaders.
Already entering the final tunnel, he ran neck and neck with Todoroki and Bakugo. At the very finish line, he mustered all his remaining strength and urged Morgoth to his maximum. And he managed to edge out Todoroki and Bakugo by half a length, crossing the finish line almost simultaneously with Midoriya.
The crowd roared, their bellow like a thunderclap. Present Mic shouted: "Midoriya comes in first! Incredible! Arashi Tanaka and his dark steed—second! He managed to overtake Bakugo and Todoroki literally at the finish line—this is something!"
Arashi slowed, breathing heavily. He slid off Morgoth, his legs trembling from exhaustion. The horse dissolved, leaving a thin layer of frost on the ground. Arashi collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving, lungs burning. Medics rushed over, their faces full of concern, but he waved them off. "I'm fine," he rasped, though his voice shook.
Nearby stood Todoroki and Bakugo. "Damn those extras," Bakugo growled, his words more for himself than others. His face blazed with rage, fists sparking. Todoroki was impassive, but his slightly trembling hands betrayed the tension.
Arashi slowly recovered. His gaze slid over Bakugo's sour expression, and he felt a slight satisfaction—overtaking him, even by half a length, was a victory. But what surprised him most was Midoriya. Arashi hadn't expected him to burst into the lead, using the mines as extra propulsion. That move was brilliant, and Arashi couldn't help but admire his classmate's tactical ingenuity.
While his thoughts wandered, the last participants began crossing the finish line. Around him gathered classmates, their faces a mix of fatigue, joy, and disappointment. Among them flashed unfamiliar faces—students from other courses who had managed to break through.