The ground disappeared.
That was the first thing that registered when I burst out of the tunnel and saw the open sky ahead of us. The course dropped away into a massive chasm, steel wires stretching across it like a spider's web—thin, swaying, and absolutely unforgiving.
Ahead of me, Todoroki didn't hesitate.
Ice bloomed from his foot and raced outward, freezing the wires solid into usable paths. He ran across them like they were flat ground, never breaking stride.
Bakugo didn't even bother with that.
Explosions flared behind him as he rocketed into the air, blasting over the gap entirely.
"OF COURSE HE'S FLYING!" Present Mic shouted. "THAT'S ONE WAY TO DO IT!"
I reached the edge and slowed just enough to think.
Flying isn't an option.
Not really.
I drew energy outward—not into my legs this time, but around me. The air responded, swirling tighter and tighter, invisible currents folding over one another until the pressure hummed against my skin.
I took a running start.
Then I jumped.
The wind caught me.
Not lifting—supporting. Slowing my descent, pushing from behind, cradling my fall just enough that gravity stopped being an enemy and became something negotiable.
I wasn't flying.
But I was close enough.
I angled my body forward, guiding the airflow with small adjustments, letting it carry me across the gap. Below, the drop yawned wide and empty. Above, the roar of the crowd blurred into white noise.
I landed hard but upright on the far side, rolling once before coming back to my feet.
Still third.
Still in it.
The minefield came into view almost immediately.
Flat terrain dotted with small, disk-shaped explosives—pressure-triggered, scattered deliberately to punish careless movement. Students were already stumbling through, detonations tossing them aside in controlled bursts.
Bakugo blasted through the air overhead again, laughing like this was fun.
Todoroki froze the ground ahead of him, setting off multiple mines at once in a chain reaction, clearing a straight path.
I slowed.
Not because I was scared.
Because I remembered.
Midoriya.
I waited.
Sure enough, a green blur charged into the minefield behind me, timing his steps with precise bursts of power. Mines detonated behind him, propelling him forward in controlled explosions.
There.
Energy condensed in my hand, forming into a taut, dark rope—solid, flexible, and sharp-edged in its own way. I snapped it forward, looping it cleanly around Midoriya's waist.
His eyes widened.
"What—?!"
I yanked.
Not hard enough to hurt him. Just enough to throw off his balance.
The next mine detonated.
Midoriya was launched sideways, crashing into the cleared path Todoroki had made earlier, skidding across frozen ground before scrambling back to his feet.
I used the pull.
The rope snapped taut, momentum dragging me forward as I rode the blast and my own wind boost together, lifting briefly into the air again as I cleared half the minefield in one motion.
"W-WHAT WAS THAT PLAY?!" Present Mic yelled. "HE JUST USED MIDORIYA AS A SLINGSHOT!"
Bakugo disengaged from chasing Todoroki and blasted forward again, clearly deciding the race mattered more than rivalry—for now.
Todoroki followed, freezing the ground ahead of him in rapid succession.
I stayed airborne for a heartbeat longer, then landed beyond the minefield, letting the wind fade as I sprinted the final stretch.
The finish line rushed toward us.
Bakugo crossed first, laughing, arms thrown wide.
Todoroki followed seconds later, expression unreadable.
I crossed after them, chest rising steadily, heart calm.
Behind us, Midoriya picked himself up and started running again, stubborn as ever.
He'd finish.
Probably bruised.
But fine.
"Sorry," I muttered under my breath, not slowing. "Not sorry."
The first course was over.
And the festival had only just begun.