The billboard loomed ahead, bold letters gleaming in the morning sun: U.A. HIGH SCHOOL - ENTRANCE EXAMINATION SITE.

  Dante stood at the base of the hill, staring up at the massive campus sprawling before him. The main building was enormous—glass and steel catching the light, the UA logo emblazoned across the front in proud, unmistakable letters. Students streamed through the gates in waves, hundreds of them, maybe thousands, all buzzing with nervous energy and barely contained excitement.

  It looked less like a school and more like a fortress.

  Very bold design. No wonder they are world-renowned

  Dante adjusted the strap of his bag and started walking, joining the flow of hopeful examinees. Around him, conversations overlapped—strategies being discussed, quirks being compared, last-minute cramming from students clutching notebooks and flashcards.

  He kept his head down, hands in his pockets, black eye patch firmly in place.

  The gates opened into a sprawling courtyard. Directions were posted on large digital screens: WRITTEN EXAMINATION - BUILDING A, FLOORS 3-7. REPORT TO DESIGNATED TESTING ROOM.

  Dante followed the crowd inside.

  The building's interior was pristine—polished floors, high ceilings, walls lined with motivational posters featuring famous pro heroes. Everything smelled new, like fresh paint and floor cleaner. The hallways echoed with footsteps and nervous chatter.

  Dante found his testing room—3-C—and entered.

  Rows of desks filled the space, each with a numbered placard. Students were already settling in, arranging pencils, checking their phones one last time before the exam started. At the front of the room, a stern-looking proctor stood with her arms crossed, scanning the room with the intensity of someone who'd seen every cheating method imaginable.

  He found his seat—number 47, near the back—and sat down.

  The proctor's voice cut through the murmur. "All electronic devices off and in your bags. Remove any accessories, hats, or props that could be used for cheating. You have two minutes."

  Dante reached up and started to unbuckle his eyepatch—

  "Excuse me."

  He looked up.

  The proctor stood beside his desk, clipboard in hand, expression neutral but firm. "The eyepatch. You'll need to remove it."

  Dante's hand froze. "It's... It's not a prop. I wear it because—"

  "No accessories during the exam. School policy." Her tone left no room for argument.

  Dante swallowed. "Can I at least keep it on during the test? It makes people uncomfortable when I—"

  "No exceptions." She held out her hand. "You can have it back after you finish."

  Dante hesitated, then slowly pulled the eyepatch off and handed it over.

  The proctor took it without comment and walked back to her desk.

  Dante sat there, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with the test. His left eye—his real eye, the one he kept hidden—was now on full display.

  He could feel eyes on him. Whispers starting.

  His left eye wasn't normal. The eyelid was non existent and slightly sunken, no lashes. But it was the eye itself that drew attention: no typical iris, just a vertical slit pupil like a cat's, set against a swirling mix of silver and magenta that seemed to shift depending on the light. It looked wrong. Alien. Demonic.

  The kind of eye that made people uneasy.

  Dante stared down at his desk, jaw tight, willing the test to start so everyone would stop looking.

  Just get through this. Two hours. That's it.

  The proctor's voice snapped through the room. "Testing begins now. You have two hours. No talking. Begin."

  Papers rustled. Pencils scratched.

  Dante picked up his pencil and focused on the first question.

  Everything else faded away.

  Two Hours Later

  Dante set down his pencil and leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.

  The test had been hard. Way harder than he'd expected. Math, science, reading comprehension, logic puzzles, and even some ethics questions about hero conduct and quirk law. He'd done his best—two months of late-night cramming with Marco drilling him on formulas and Chiara quizzing him on vocabulary—but there were definitely questions he'd guessed on.

  Maybe a B-minus. Maybe.

  "Time's up," the proctor announced. "Pencils down. Pass your exams forward."

  Dante handed his test to the student in front of him and immediately reached for the small plastic bag the proctor had given him. He pulled out his eyepatch and strapped it back on, relief flooding through him as his left eye disappeared from view.

  Much better.

  "Those who passed the written portion will have their examinee numbers called for the practical exam," the proctor continued. "Wait in the hallway."

  Dante grabbed his bag and filed out with the other students.

  The hallway was chaos—students comparing answers, some celebrating, others looking pale and defeated. Dante leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone to check the time.

  11:10 AM.

  Maybe if they drag the process ill be safe time zoneand use my quirk without issues

  "Examinee 2847! Examinee 2985! Examinee 3004—"

  The proctor's voice echoed down the hall, calling numbers. Dante listened carefully.

  "Examinee 3116!"

  That's me.

  He pocketed his phone and started walking toward the conference hall, following the signs and the stream of students heading in the same direction.

  As he turned the corner, a familiar voice called out behind him.

  "Dante!"

  He stopped and turned. Kaito jogged up to him, grinning widely, still clutching his exam pencil like a trophy. "You made it through!"

  Dante's expression softened—not quite a smile, but close. "Yeah. You too."

  "How'd you do?" Dante asked

  "Hard," Kaito said bluntly. "Really hard. I think I did great, though, but... maybe an A-minus at best."

  Dante looked suprised "Man, if you're saying it was hard, then I'm screwed. I thought it was brutal."

  Kaito glanced at him. "You're way smarter than you think."

  "As if lol. Only survived because of your help and Akari. Thanks!" Dante scratched the back of his head, still grinning. "But I'll take a pass either way. Now we just have to survive whatever they throw at us next."

  They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, weaving through the crowd.

  Then Kaito stopped mid-step.

  "Whoa."

  Dante turned. "What?"

  Kaito was staring at him—eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

  "Your eye."

  Dante's hand instinctively moved toward his eyepatch. "What about it?"

  "You're not wearing—" Kaito gestured vaguely at Dante's face. "I mean, I saw it during the test when you turned around, but up close it's—" Dante panicked; he thought he had put it on. Did it slip, or did he not notice it fall?

  Here we go. Dante braced for something that would hurt him.

  "—really cool."

  Dante blinked. "What?"

  "Your eye!" Kaito stepped closer, leaning in to get a better look. "It's like... silver and purple? With the slit pupil thing? Dude, that's badass. You look like some kind of supernatural entity or something."

  Dante stared at him. "You're not... weirded out?"

  "Weirded out? Are you kidding?" Kaito grinned. "Have you seen other people? Also, it's unsettling, yeah, if I stare too long for some reason, probably a quirk. But in a cool way. Like, 'don't mess with this guy' vibes."

  He clapped Dante on the shoulder. "Honestly, the eyepatch is cool too, but you don't need to hide it. You look intimidating. Own it." Kaito said as he felt like he saw another side of Dante that he hadn’t seen.

  Dante felt something in his chest loosen—something he hadn't realized was wound tight.

  "Thanks," he said quietly.

  "No problem." Kaito started walking again, still grinning. "Now come on. Let's see what insanity UA has planned for us next."

  Conference Hall - UA Exam Course Orientation

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  The hall was massive.

  Rows upon rows of cushioned seats stretched back toward high ceilings, all facing a central stage with a massive screen displaying the UA logo. The lighting was dim, like a movie theater, and the air buzzed with nervous energy as hundreds of students filed in and found seats.

  Dante and Kaito settled near the middle, a few rows back from the stage. Dante scanned the room out of habit—noting exits, distances, the general mood of the crowd.

  Everyone looked tense. Excited. Terrified.

  The lights dimmed further.

  Then—

  BOOM.

  Spotlights exploded across the stage, one after another, synchronized to a pounding beat. The screen flashed bright colors—red, yellow, blue—and a voice boomed through the speakers, loud, electric, and completely over-the-top.

  "FOR ALL YOU EXAMINEE LISTENERS TUNING IN, WELCOME TO MY SHOW!"

  A figure burst onto the stage—a man with a gravity-defying yellow mohawk styled into exaggerated spikes, wearing orange-tinted sunglasses and a black leather jacket covered in sound-wave designs. He struck a pose, arms spread wide, grin manic.

  "EVERYBODY SAY HEY!"

  Silence.

  Complete, absolute silence.

  Dante stared at the stage, utterly baffled.

  Is this... normal? In Japan?

  The man on stage—Present Mic, according to the screen—didn't seem fazed by the lack of response. He cupped a hand to his ear theatrically.

  "COME ON, WHERE'S THE ENERGY?! I SAID, EVERYBODY, SAY—"

  "Hey."

  The word came out before Dante could stop it—automatic, reflexive, his brain interpreting the command literally. His voice was the only one. It echoed through the silent hall. Every head in the room turned toward him.

  Dante froze.

  Oh no.

  To his right, a boy with messy green hair and freckles—Midoriya—gave him a nervous wave and a pained smile, like he understood the mortification but didn't know how to help.

  Dante slowly, slowly, slid down in his seat and pulled his hood up.

  Che cazzo. Stupido. Idiota. (What the fuck. Stupid. Idiot.)

  He muttered the curses under his breath in Italian, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

  Kaito was shaking beside him, shoulders trembling with barely suppressed laughter.

  On stage, Present Mic blinked behind his sunglasses. Then he grinned—wide and genuine.

  "WELL, AT LEAST ONE RESPONSE! I DON'T KNOW IF I SHOULD BE HAPPY OR CRY!" He wiped an imaginary tear. "BUT HEY, ENTHUSIASM! I LIKE IT!"

  A few scattered laughs rippled through the crowd. The tension broke slightly.

  Dante wanted to die.

  Beside him, Midoriya leaned over slightly and whispered, "That's Present Mic. The Voice Hero. He's got a radio show and everything. All the teachers here are pro heroes!"

  He was smiling—bright, genuine, completely star-struck—and Dante realized the kid was trying to make him feel less embarrassed by sharing his own excitement.

  It... actually helped. A little.

  "Cool," Dante muttered, still half-hidden in his hood.

  Midoriya's smile widened, and he turned back to the stage, muttering under his breath about hero statistics and radio ratings.

  Kaito was still grinning beside him. "You're never living that down."

  "Shut up."

  Present Mic launched into his explanation, voice booming through the speakers with relentless energy.

  "ALRIGHT, LISTENERS! HERE'S HOW THIS GOES DOWN! YOU'LL BE CONDUCTING TEN-MINUTE MOCK BATTLES AS YOUR PRACTICAL EXAM! EACH OF YOU HAS BEEN ASSIGNED TO A DIFFERENT BATTLE CENTER!"

  The screen shifted, displaying a map with seven labeled zones: A through G.

  Dante pulled out the card he'd been given earlier. Battle Center B.

  Kaito checked his. Battle Center E.

  "Figures," Kaito said with a resigned shrug. "They probably separated people from the same school."

  "IN EACH BATTLE CENTER, YOU'LL FACE FAUX VILLAINS OF VARYING DIFFICULTY!" The screen displayed three robot designs—sleek, mechanical, vaguely humanoid.

  "ONE-POINTER! SLOW BUT STURDY!"

  "TWO-POINTER! FASTER, TRICKIER!"

  "THREE-POINTER! THE BIG GUNS! TOUGH TO TAKE DOWN!"

  Present Mic's grin was manic. "USE YOUR QUIRKS TO RACK UP POINTS! THE TOP SCORERS MOVE ON TO THE NEXT STAGE! SIMPLE, RIGHT?!"

  Dante frowned.

  Use your quirks without restriction?

  He glanced at the time on his phone. 11:20 AM.

  40 minutes until the chaotic time was over. From 9 am to 12 pm is chaos time for limbo. It was harder to control, and power surged as if he had 200% more power. didn't exactly play nice with bystanders.

  He started to raise his hand—

  But someone else stood first.

  A tall boy with dark hair, glasses, and an expression of intense seriousness shot to his feet, arm raised high.

  "EXCUSE ME!" His voice was loud, precise, and dripping with indignation. "If I may interject!"

  Present Mic pointed at him. "YEAH, EXAMINEE 7111! WHAT'S UP?"

  "On the handout, there are four types of villains listed, yet you only described three!" The boy pushed his glasses up his nose, and Dante could practically see the self-righteousness radiating off him. "If this is an error in the exam materials, it reflects poorly on UA's prestigious reputation! Additionally—"

  He turned and pointed directly at Midoriya, who was quietly muttering notes to himself.

  "—you, with the curly hair! You've been muttering this entire time! It's distracting and unprofessional! If you're not serious about this exam, you should leave!"

  The hall went silent.

  Midoriya's face went pale. He shrank in his seat, hands gripping his notebook like a lifeline.

  Dante's jaw tightened.

  Seriously? This guy?

  Present Mic laughed—not unkindly. "GREAT OBSERVATION, EXAMINEE 7111! YEAH, THERE'S A FOURTH VILLAIN TYPE!"

  The screen shifted, displaying a massive robot—easily three times the size of the others, covered in armor plating and bristling with weapons.

  "THE ZERO-POINTER! THIS BAD BOY IS AN OBSTACLE! IT'S WORTH ZERO POINTS, SO THERE'S NO REASON TO FIGHT IT! RUN AWAY IF YOU SEE IT!"

  The glasses boy sat down, looking satisfied.

  Dante's hand shot up.

  "Yes, examinee—" Present Mic squinted at his card. —3116! What's your question?"

  Dante stood, ignoring the eyes turning toward him. "You said we're allowed to use our quirks without restriction, right?"

  "THAT'S RIGHT!"

  "What about quirks that could affect other examinees? Not directly attacking them, but... interfering. Like sensory manipulation or environmental changes."

  A murmur rippled through the crowd. Students glanced at each other, some nodding, others frowning.

  Present Mic's grin didn't falter, but his tone became more serious. "GOOD QUESTION! AS LONG AS YOU DON'T DIRECTLY ATTACK ANOTHER EXAMINEE, YOU'RE CLEAR! SOME INTERFERENCE IS EXPECTED IN A CHAOTIC BATTLE SCENARIO! JUST REMEMBER—WE'RE WATCHING! IF SOMEONE CROSSES A LINE, WE'LL STEP IN!"

  Dante nodded slowly and sat back down.

  Kaito leaned over. "You worried about your quirk?"

  "Yeah." Dante checked the time again. 11:26 AM. "It's... not exactly subtle."

  "You'll be fine." Kaito's hand landed on his shoulder, firm and reassuring. "Just focus on yourself. Do what you need to do."

  Dante exhaled. "Yeah. Okay."

  On stage, Present Mic raised both arms, voice building to a crescendo.

  "ALRIGHT, LISTENERS! ONE LAST THING BEFORE WE SEND YOU OFF!"

  The screen behind him displayed a single phrase, bold and shining:

  "PLUS ULTRA"

  Present Mic's grin was infectious.

  "A TRUE HERO CAN OVERCOME LIFE'S MISFORTUNES! SO GO OUT THERE AND SHOW US WHAT YOU'VE GOT!"

  He threw both fists in the air.

  "GO BEYOND! PLUS ULTRAAAA!"

  The hall erupted—not in cheers, exactly, but in a wave of movement as hundreds of students stood and started filing toward the exits, adrenaline and nervous energy propelling them forward.

  Dante stood with them, heart pounding.

  I can also do it, overcome misfortune

  Kaito bumped his shoulder. "Good luck out there."

  "You too."

  They split off toward their respective battle centers, swallowed by the crowd.

  Dante's hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists and kept walking.

  Battle Center B - Staging Area

  The battle center was a fully constructed mock city.

  Buildings rose on either side—two, three, four stories tall—complete with windows, doors, fire escapes, and rooftops. Streets stretched out in a grid, lined with streetlights and traffic signs. It looked real. Almost disturbingly real.

  And at the entrance, behind a massive gate, hundreds of examinees clustered together, stretching, adjusting gear, psyching themselves up.

  Dante stood near the back, away from the main group, hands shoved in his pockets. His scarf—a long black piece of fabric Chiara had insisted he bring—hung loosely around his neck, ends trailing down his back.

  At least it looks cool.

  He checked his phone one last time. 11:36 AM.

  Limbo Shade was still in chaos time. If he transformed, the effect would be at maximum strength.

  Which means I need to be careful.

  "Hey."

  Dante looked up.

  Midoriya's POV

  Izuku Midoriya was panicking.

  He stood near the middle of the crowd, surrounded by examinees who all looked confident, prepared, and ready. Some had support gear—gauntlets, boots, utility belts. Others were flexing their quirks—flames flickering, ice forming, limbs elongating.

  And him?

  He had nothing. No quirk training. No plan. Just ten months of brutal training with All Might and a power he'd no experience using.

  What am I doing here? I'm going to fail. I'm going to embarrass myself. Everyone's going to see that I don't belong—

  He scanned the crowd, looking for... he didn't know what. A friendly face. Someone who didn't look like they wanted to tear through robots with their bare hands.

  His eyes landed on a girl with short brown hair and a bright smile, talking animatedly to another examinee.

  She seems nice. Maybe I could—

  Then he saw him.

  The boy with the eyepatch and the messy black-and-white hair, standing off to the side, hands in his pockets, expression calm and unreadable.

  Dante.

  They'd met a few times now—briefly, awkwardly, but Dante had always been... kind. In a blunt, no-nonsense way. He didn't make Izuku feel stupid for asking questions or rambling about heroes. He just listened.

  And earlier, during the orientation, when that glasses boy had called Izuku out in front of everyone, Dante had asked his own question right after—shifting the attention away, giving Izuku a moment to breathe.

  He's... safe.

  Izuku made his decision.

  He walked over, weaving through the crowd, heart pounding.

  "Hey," he said when he got close.

  Dante looked up, blinking in surprise. "Midoriya."

  "Hi! I just—" Izuku laughed nervously. "I saw you over here and thought, uh, maybe we could—"

  "Excuse me."

  Both of them turned.

  The boy with glasses from earlier—Iida, Izuku remembered—stood there, posture rigid, expression stern.

  "You." He pointed at Izuku. "You're the one who was muttering during the presentation. Are you here to sabotage other examinees?"

  Izuku's stomach dropped. "What? No! I was just—"

  "Distracting yourself and others with nervous habits suggests a lack of focus. Perhaps you should reconsider whether you're truly prepared for this—"

  "Give it a rest."

  Dante's voice was quiet but firm.

  Iida turned, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

  "He's nervous. So is everyone else here." Dante's single visible eye was steady, unflinching. "Calling him out doesn't help anyone. It just makes you look like a jerk."

  Iida stiffened. "I am merely concerned about maintaining the integrity of the exam—"

  "Then focus on yourself and let him do the same."

  The two stared at each other for a long moment.

  Finally, Iida adjusted his glasses. "Hmph. Very well. But if either of you interferes with my performance, I will lodge a formal complaint."

  He walked away, back straight, muttering something about propriety.

  Izuku exhaled, shoulders sagging. "Thanks. Again. You didn't have to—"

  "It's fine." Dante glanced at him, and something in his expression softened—just slightly. "You okay?"

  "Yeah. Just... really nervous."

  "hmm"

  Izuku blinked. “But you seem so... calm."

  Dante int have much to so he was honest "I'm good at faking it."

  Before Izuku could respond, a voice boomed across the staging area.

  "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! THERE'S NO COUNTDOWN IN A REAL FIGHT! RUN! RUN! RUN!"

  The gate exploded open. The crowd surged forward. Izuku froze, mind going blank, legs refusing to move—

  A hand grabbed his shirt and shoved.

  Dante's voice was right beside him, urgent but not unkind.

  "Good luck!"

  And then Dante was gone, vaulting over someone's head and disappearing into the mock city.

  But Izuku was already running.

  He's trying his best. I have to do my best as well.

  I can do this!

  He sprinted forward, legs pumping, heart racing, All Might's words echoing in his head.

  "You too can become a hero."

  Dante's POV

  Dante ran.

  Not with the main crowd—he broke off immediately, angling toward a side street, eyes scanning for high ground.

  Need to get above the chaos. Scout the area. Find the three-pointers first.

  He spotted a fire escape on a three-story building and jumped, fingers catching the lowest rung. He pulled himself up, boots finding purchase on the metal grating, and climbed.

  Halfway up, mid-leap between platforms, he felt the shift.

  His quirk activated.

  "Limbo Shade."

  The transformation rippled through him like ice water flooding his veins. His skin mottled into rough stone, blue-gray and cracked. Shadows peeled off his shoulders and arms, writhing in the air. His vision sharpened, colors muting into shades of gray and cold blue.

  And the world around him changed.

  Sound died. The shouts of other examinees, the hum of machinery, the distant crash of robots—all of it muffled, swallowed by the oppressive silence that always followed his transformation.

  Light dimmed. The bright afternoon sun faded to a sickly twilight glow, colors bleeding out of the buildings and streets.

  Dante landed on the rooftop and looked out over the mock city.

  His breath caught. The effect had spread. Way farther than usual.

  An entire city block—maybe two—was swallowed in darkness. The air shimmered with unnatural cold. Streetlights flickered and died. The few examinees who'd ventured into his range stumbled, disoriented, looking around in confusion and rising panic.

  "Merda," Dante whispered. (Shit.)

  He hadn't meant to do that. But it was too late now. The darkness held.

  And somewhere in the distance, the first robot appeared, red eyes glowing faintly in the gloom.

  Dante crouched on the rooftop, shadows coiling around him, and felt the cold detachment of Limbo settle into his bones.

  Alright. lets make the best of it then

  He jumped.