It was way too early for this.

The members of the Bakusquad—including their honorary addition, Shinso—stood in a line at the training grounds of Solar Flare’s agency. They had been there for barely an hour, and already, they were drenched in sweat.

Sero bent over, hands on his knees. “Okay, okay—real talk. Is this dude worse than Aizawa, or am I just dying faster than usual?”

Denki flopped onto the ground dramatically. “Bro, I can’t feel my legs. Just leave me here. Tell my mom I went out fighting.”

“Pfft, you call this fighting?” Jirou huffed, rolling out her sore shoulders. “I feel like we just ran a damn marathon—not even the fun kind.”

Kirishima wiped his forehead, grinning despite the punishment. “Nah, this is awesome! I mean, yeah, it’s brutal, but that’s how we get stronger, right?”

Mina groaned. “Kiri, please, shut up before I throw you into the next exercise.”

Meanwhile, Bakugo stood with his arms crossed, looking infuriatingly fine. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. In fact, he looked annoyed that everyone else was struggling.

“Tch. You guys are pathetic,” he snapped. “This is nothing. If you can’t keep up, go back to your baby internships.”

Denki weakly lifted a hand from the floor and flipped him off.

Shinso, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke, his voice dry as ever. “And here I thought Aizawa put us through hell. Guess he was just warming us up for this guy.”

Jirou sighed. “Yeah, well, Aizawa at least lets us breathe. Solar Flare? I don’t think he believes in oxygen.”

At that moment, Asahi stepped back into view, his presence immediate—like the sun had just risen behind him, casting a long shadow over them. His sharp crimson eyes flicked over the group, unimpressed.

Denki, still on the floor, quickly shut his eyes. “If I don’t move, maybe he won’t see me…”

Mina whispered, “Bro, he’s not a T-Rex.”

Shinso muttered, “Jury’s still out on that.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “Quit whining. Get up and stop embarrassing yourselves.”