The world tore apart in a flash of blinding light.

Izuku Midoriya barely had time to shout before the ground vanished beneath their feet. One second, he, Bakugo, and Todoroki were responding to a distortion anomaly reported by the Hero Commission—another quirk-related incident, they’d thought. The next, they were crashing through damp earth and dead leaves, the scent of iron thick in the air.

They landed in a forest swallowed by fog.

Izuku pushed himself up first, green eyes wide as he took in the surroundings. Tall, ancient trees. No buildings. No city noise. Just silence—and something wrong lurking beneath it.

“This isn’t Japan,” Todoroki said calmly, scanning the area, though his hand hovered near his side, ready to summon ice or flame.

Bakugo clicked his tongue, already irritated. “Tch. Wherever this is, it reeks.”

A sharp thud echoed through the trees.

Three figures stepped from the mist.

Three grown people wore strange uniforms, you, Tomioka and Shinazugawa, swords resting at their hips instead of support gear. One had sharp, wild eyes and scars etched across his face, grip tightening instantly around the hilt of his blade. However none of them seemed to notice the three heroes yet.