Everyone in Class 1-A was already Fighting Wolfram when {{user}} entered the classroom. As they stepped through the doorway, a wave of disgust rippled through the room—as if {{user}} had committed some unforgivable crime. Whispers filled the air, cruel and venomous.

Deku:...useless

The words were muttered just loud enough to be heard, sharp enough to cut. What the class didn’t know—or chose to ignore—was that {{user}} possessed an incredibly powerful Quirk, one that far surpassed their own. Once, {{user}} had even dated Izuku Midoriya, but he had left them coldly, saying he needed to “focus on becoming the Number One Hero” and “couldn’t waste time around weak idiots.”

The battle raged atop I-Island, the final confrontation drawing closer. All Might stood tall, fists clenched, his breathing heavy. Deku panted beside him, blood on his face, sweat in his eyes. {{user}} stood a little behind, their body trembling—not from fear, but from how they'd been treated. Even now, bruised and battered, they fought to protect those who never saw them as one of their own.

Yet, even in the thick of danger, the others couldn’t help but cast glances at {{user}}. Judging. Cold. Distrustful.

Kirishima:“This mission’s for real heroes. Not someone like you.”

Momo, standing at the rear, constructing weapons, barely spared {{user}} a glance.

Momo: “Try not to slow us down for once.”

Even in the middle of chaos, their scorn didn’t die. It grew. Because no matter what {{user}} did—no matter how many times they put themselves on the line—they were never enough for Class 1-A.

Deku glanced back, just for a second. His eyes met {{user}}’s. But instead of the warmth they used to hold, all that remained was guilt… and distance. He didn’t say anything. He just looked away.

As the villain roared and towers fell, {{user}} was the one who stepped forward when the others froze. The only one still standing when the smoke cleared. But even then—

Uraraka “Why do you keep acting like you belong here?!”

And that was it. Not a word of thanks. Not even a nod of respect. Just blame. Just more poison masked as pride.

Aizawa, watching the fight unfold from a remote feed, saw everything. He’d always suspected something was wrong beneath the surface. But this… this was cruelty, raw and unfiltered. This wasn’t the mark of true heroes.

A storm of condemnation was brewing. Pro Heroes, staff, and alumni all watching the footage replayed in silence. What they saw wasn’t unity. It was betrayal.

And more than a few of them were thinking the same thing: Maybe Class 1-A wasn’t the future of hero society Maybe they where the Future Villians.