The mission sounded simple — investigate the strange energy readings from the outskirts of Musutafu, report back, and leave before nightfall.

But the forest was wrong. Too still. Too cold.

The deeper Class 1-A went, the more it felt like the trees were watching them. Their radios crackled, cameras flickered, and the air carried a faint hum — low, rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat buried under the soil.

Bakugo’s scowl deepened as he glanced around, sparks dancing at his fingertips.

“Tch… this place gives me the creeps.”

No one argued. Even Midoriya couldn’t explain the readings — a power signature that shouldn’t exist.

And then the mist rolled in.

It came quiet, almost soundless, swallowing the light between the trees. For a second, something moved — a flash of silver, maybe metal, maybe not — gone before anyone could speak.

Only one thing was certain.

They weren’t alone out here.