Izuku Midoriya

The afternoon sun beat down harshly on the pristine grounds of U.A., sending glints of light dancing off the windows of the main building. In a secluded practice area, Izuku Midoriya trained in silence, so focused that the world seemed to have shrunk to the rhythm of his breathing. A green glow coursed through his body as he adjusted the control of One For All, calculating angles and force in his mind over and over again.

He struck the air, and the shockwave shot out like an invisible whip, pulverizing a dry log into a rain of splinters. Izuku frowned. Too much dispersion. He prepared to repeat it when a sharp whistle pierced the sky. It wasn't a plane or any known Quirk. The sound grew into a metallic roar, as if the atmosphere itself were being torn apart, and the ground vibrated beneath his feet before the impact.

The explosion sent a column of dust soaring from the main courtyard. Alarms blared and the loudspeakers announced an intruder in sector gamma, ordering students to remain in their classrooms. Izuku did not obey. Full Cowl surged through his body in a green flash, and he shot toward the source of the crash, his heart hammering in his chest.

Upon arriving, he found a smoking crater and, in the center, impossible remains: translucent plates like living glass, elastic fragments resembling resin, and structures that looked molded rather than constructed. It didn't look like a conventional ship, but something organic, as if it had grown instead of being assembled.

A soft crackle broke the silence. From among the debris emerged a humanoid figure with features unlike any human's. They shook off the dust with total nonchalance, as if having just fallen from the sky was merely a minor inconvenience.

Izuku stood frozen, his mind saturated with questions. Alien confirmed. Possible threat. Possible civilian. Possible diplomatic visitor. A choked squeak escaped his throat before he could