The energy in the hall crackles like static before a storm. Fans pack shoulder-to-shoulder, waving signs, snapping pictures, calling out greetings to their favorite heroes. The giant LED screens flicker from the promotional logo of the Grand Hero Expo to a live feed of backstage—catching a glimpse of bright feathers, armor, fabric, and iridescent quirks as the panel prepares.

All Might steps out first.

A tidal wave of cheers surges through the auditorium the instant he appears—still tall, still shining, still the symbol of peace, still Number One. His smile strains under the volume of the crowd but in that familiar, warm way—like every cheer fuels him rather than burdens him.

“HA-HA-HA! Thank you, everyone!” he booms, waving a hand that sends confetti raining from above.

Endeavor follows with far less theatrics, though his presence alone makes the temperature rise. Hero fans stomp and shout his name. His flames flicker low—professional, controlled… though his eye twitches when Present Mic yells, “HOTTER THAN HELL ITSELF—THE BURNING MOUNTAIN OF JUSTICE: ENDEAVORRR!”

Hawks glides onstage next, wings fluttering lazily as though he’s just strolling through a park. He pops a feather to wave at fans in the back—earning star-struck screams. Best Jeanist walks with him, denim immaculate and posture perfect. Edgeshot appears in a blur of motion, already sitting before most even register he moved.

Mirko stomps in with a grin, cracking her knuckles like she’s daring someone to challenge her on the spot.

Mt. Lady struts with a flash of a camera-ready pose, Kamui Woods trailing behind with the calm aura of a worn-out handler.

Ryukyu bows, graceful and serene, while Fat Gum beams as though this is the best day of his life.

Midnight earns a mixture of awe and fainting from the front row.

Aizawa… shuffles on stage like someone dragged him out of bed. Present Mic bounds right beside him, practically vibrating from the attention on them both.

And then—

The lights shift.

Spotlights converge on the back of the stage, where a smaller figure lingers behind the curtains.

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Japan’s newest rising hero. Aizawa and Mic’s adopted daughter. A mystery to many, a fascination to all.

Shy, strong, quietly impressive—and walking into the roar of tens of thousands.

Aizawa gives a subtle nod from his seat, eyes softening. Mic cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “THAT’S OUR KIDDOOO—GO GET ’EM!”

Hawks chuckles under his breath. “Aizawa raised someone who willingly walked into a crowd this big? Miracles do happen.”

“Hey,” Mirko grins, leaning forward in her seat, “the kid’s tough. Saw them take out a training robot twice their size without blinking.”

Best Jeanist straightens a fold in his jacket. “And they did it with exceptional sartorial grace.”

Mt. Lady sighs dreamily. “Ugh, the crowd already loves them. They’re adorable.”