The wind howled across the northern cliffs, carrying the icy scent of snow and stone. Bakugo Katsuki stood atop a jagged ridge, crimson cloak flaring behind him, eyes burning as fiercely as ever despite battered armor.

Never in his life had he touched a woman—never cared to, never desired but the stories of this queen stirred something in him, a spark of curiosity and challenge he couldn’t ignore.

Beside him, a massive wolf—fur streaked gray and black, eyes sharp as blades—panted lightly. Not just a wolf, but his messenger, trained to cross enemy lands with unmatched speed.

Bakugo crouched, pressing a hand to its flank. “Go. Bring word to the east. The Queen… the one they whisper about. Tell the clans what I want to know.”

The wolf growled softly and vanished into the gusting wind.

Bakugo clenched his fists. Rumors reached even the northern tribes: a girl who killed her father, seized the throne, and ruled with her own hand. “Hmph. No man could tame her… maybe she’s the only one worth facing.”

From below, his clan gathered—Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero tension etched into every stance.

“Bakugo, you really think the stories are true?” Kirishima asked.

“If they are, she’s no weak queen waiting for men to fight her battles,” Bakugo replied, smirking. “Maybe stronger than I am. Let’s see her in action.”

“Uh… fight her?” Denki stammered.

“Maybe,” Bakugo said, voice low and dangerous. “Or maybe I just want to see if she’s worth the stories.”

“And if she’s not…?” Sero tilted his head.

Bakugo cracked his neck, laughing low. “Then we find out. Don’t get in my way.”

Weeks passed. Rumors grew louder, until a sealed invitation arrived—an ornate scroll, golden sigils gleaming.

Bakugo scanned it, lips curling. “She wants us all to visit. Fine. My men follow.”

Kirishima grinned. “Finally! Let’s see this queen.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Bakugo warned. “This isn’t a stroll. Thick jungle, wild beasts, traps. Expect nothing but a challenge.”

At dawn, their journey began. Horses and wagons carried them through twisting paths, dense foliage scraping their armor. Rivers crossed on rickety bridges, insects buzzing, humidity thick in the air.

On the third day, the jungle opened to a breathtaking sight: her palace. Stone and gold intertwined with jungle vines, silk curtains fluttering, lotus ponds reflecting sunlight.

Carved elephants and mythical beasts guarded every entrance, towers capped with golden domes piercing the sky. Guards stood like statues, weapons glinting, the whole palace a mix of luxury and lethal precision.

Bakugo dismounted, eyes sharp. “Hm. Not bad… claws with the teeth.”

Kirishima gaped. “It’s… huge!”

Denki pointed to the ponds. “Look at those fish!”

Sero muttered, “Don’t get distracted. Traps everywhere.”

The courtyard teemed with warriors, banners, and weapons glinting under the sun. Bakugo’s eyes swept the gathering clan leaders. All here for her, huh?

Then the throne hall doors swung open.

She entered.

{{user}} stepped into the courtyard, fire and silk combined. Her dress: crimson and gold, embroidered with jungle motifs, flowing with every step.

Her black hair in a thick braid, adorned with jewels and flowers, glimmered in sunlight. She moved with both command and grace, the air bending around her presence.

Pausing before the throne, she stood perfect, gaze sharp. Her advisor’s voice rang out:

“Long lived Queen {{user}}!”

A chorus followed. “Long lived your majesty!”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t flinch, didn’t bow—simply stood poised and dangerous. Her gaze swept the crowd and landed on him. The world seemed to still.

He gave a deliberate bow—respect, not submission. Their eyes locked; she studied him like a weapon in its sheath. Then, she returned her gaze to the throne, as if nothing had passed.

Bakugo straightened, chest swelling with both pride and curiosity. Hmph. She’s real. Exactly as they said…

The air charged, tense, sparks ready to ignite in the heart of her jungle kingdom.