"I won't pretend I didn't see that attack!"
Seeing the opponent reaching straight for his team's score, Igarashi Masata raised his arm and moved to intercept without hesitation.
The moment Masata acted, Monoma Neito—who was charging toward them—suddenly revealed a sly smile.
BOOM!
Monoma's arm abruptly changed direction mid-motion, his palm snapping toward Masata's forearm as a violent explosion erupted at point-blank range.
"?!"
The entire arena froze.
That attack looked exactly like Bakugo Katsuki's explosion.
Even Masata, struck so closely, felt a sharp sting in his arm as heat scraped across his skin, leaving a faint burn.
"…A Quirk similar to Bakugo's?"
Masata glanced at Monoma, who was grinning confidently.
"Hahaha—who knows?" Monoma replied mockingly.
Before Masata could react further, Monoma raised his other hand—and an ice spike suddenly formed and shot forward.
"So that's it…" Masata muttered, realization dawning instantly.
"A copying-type Quirk."
At that moment, Present Mic's voice rang out from the commentary booth.
"Monoma Neito! Quirk: Copy! He can temporarily use another person's Quirk for up to five minutes after physical contact—but only one Quirk at a time!"
The explanation sent murmurs rippling through the stadium.
"So he's been copying Quirks from everyone he's touched during the match?"
"That's terrifying planning!"
Hearing the reactions, Monoma's smile widened.
"That's right! Using your own Quirk to defeat you—doesn't that sound wonderful?"
Then his gaze sharpened as he looked straight at Masata.
"And I touched your arm just now, didn't I, Igarashi?"
Monoma's expression twisted into something almost manic.
"Your Quirk must be incredible too, right?"
His clenched fist began to glow red, heat visibly radiating from his skin.
Was Masata's magma Quirk really being activated?
Masata stared at him, expression… strange.
"Of course my Quirk is powerful," Masata replied calmly.
"But do you really think anyone can control it?"
Monoma clearly hadn't considered that possibility.
Masata knew his strength didn't come from magma alone. The true foundation was his hidden Quirk—Gene Fortification. Without a reinforced body and overwhelming stamina, attempting to wield his power was suicidal.
Sure enough—
Monoma's fist only reddened slightly. The temperature rose, but no magma appeared. Nothing else happened.
"What…?" Monoma's smile collapsed.
"Why isn't it magma?!"
Unwilling to accept it, Monoma pushed harder, forcibly driving Masata's copied Quirk to its limits. Black smoke leaked from his arm as strain wracked his body.
But Monoma's physique was far too weak.
Unlike Masata—who had spent years training and recently undergone a major transformation—Monoma lacked the physical foundation required to support such power.
His vision darkened. His limbs turned numb.
Monoma staggered, barely kept upright by his teammates.
"…What kind of monster Quirk is this…?"
Clutching his head, Monoma glared at Masata, his voice strained.
Masata answered casually, almost kindly.
"The Quirk you copy might change depending on the user," he explained.
"I can use mine comfortably—but that doesn't mean you can."
The audience finally understood.
Copying wasn't perfection—it was imitation without mastery.
A copied Quirk, when used against its original owner, could easily backfire if the copier lacked compatibility or control.
Monoma's defeat was born of overconfidence.
"You bastard! Stealing my Quirk? I'll blow you up!"
Bakugo—who had already withdrawn—saw Monoma using explosions and instantly snapped. He charged back in mid-air, blasting straight toward Monoma.
"GUARD!"
Monoma's teammate with the hollow eyes reacted instantly, exhaling an invisible air barrier.
THUD!
Bakugo slammed into it as if hitting glass.
But he wasn't done.
Grabbing the edge of the barrier, Bakugo detonated another explosion, shattering part of it—and lunged forward like a feral beast, ripping the headband straight from Monoma's neck.
"Nice work, Bakugo," Masata said calmly.
"But he was my prey."
Annoyed at having his victory stolen, Masata acted instantly.
"Chacha—stay safe!"
He grabbed Uraraka Ochaco and threw her straight into the air.
Already prepared, Ochaco activated her Quirk at the peak of her ascent, hovering safely above the battlefield.
The crowd exploded in disbelief.
"This is ridiculous!"
"They're completely untouchable!"
Below, Yaoyorozu Momo had already created an iron staff, standing guard beneath Ochaco, ready to intercept any airborne threats.
Masata, now unburdened, dashed toward Bakugo at terrifying speed.
Bakugo barely registered a gust of wind before the headband vanished from his hand.
"What—?!"
Masata didn't stop.
With another burst of power beneath his feet, he crossed the field in an instant and appeared directly in front of the weakened Monoma.
"That plan of crushing my spirit?" Masata grinned.
"Looks like it didn't work."
Before Monoma could react, Masata vanished again—reappearing beneath Ochaco as she descended.
Yaoyorozu and Masata shifted seamlessly into formation, catching her the moment she dropped.
At that exact moment—
"TIME UP!!!"
Present Mic's voice thundered through the stadium, officially ending the cavalry battle.