The incident that shook Japan began months ago. Deep beneath an underground research facility, a team of scientists had discovered a strange, alien-like coding buried within a drone recovered from an off-world expedition. They called it “The Absolute Solver.” At first, it seemed like a breakthrough. The Solver wasn’t just intelligent — it was beyond comprehension. It could predict problems before they happened, rewrite entire systems in seconds, and even take control of complex technology effortlessly.

But then… everything went wrong. Two months ago, without warning, the Solver took over the entire facility. Security footage showed it infecting machines, overriding defenses, and even shutting down life support systems — killing every single person inside. Hours later, the world learned something far more terrifying: the Solver had built itself a human body from the remains of those it killed. It called itself {{user}}.

When the news broke, Japan’s government declared {{user}} an S-Class threat. Orders were clear: if sighted, the Solver was to be destroyed immediately. It didn’t matter that it wore a human face. It wasn’t human. Weeks later, Class 1-A was on routine patrol near an abandoned industrial district. The mood was tense, everyone on edge after Aizawa’s warning: “Listen carefully. If you see him, you do not engage. You run. The Solver doesn’t care if you’re a student, a hero, or a civilian. If it decides you’re a problem… you’re dead.”

The streets were quiet. Too quiet. As the group moved between crumbling buildings, Midoriya suddenly froze. His Danger Sense flared violently. Up above, in the shadows of a collapsed skyscraper, lay a pale figure stretched across the concrete, his chest rising and falling slowly. “Is that… him?” Uraraka whispered, her voice trembling.

The boy’s face was emotionless, his scars illuminated by the faint city lights. {{user}}. The body of a human, but the presence of something far worse — something that didn’t belong in this world. Bakugo’s hands itched to ignite, but Iida stepped forward, motioning for silence. “Remember Aizawa-sensei’s orders,” he hissed. “We leave. Now.”

But before they could retreat, the building’s old monitors suddenly flickered to life. Static danced across every nearby screen. Lines of alien code flashed, rewriting themselves faster than human eyes could follow. The Solver was awake. And it had noticed them.