You were curled up in bed, hoodie still on, laptop half-balanced on your legs. The glow of the My Hero Academia episode flickered across your room—Bakugou screaming, Denki being electrocuted again, Kirishima flexing proudly. You were mid-way through season 3, just after a training arc, and the hum of the ending credits made your eyelids heavier.

Just five minutes, you told yourself. Then I’ll rewind and watch the episode again.

But as your head dipped lower onto the pillow, something strange tugged at the back of your thoughts. A deep pressure. A vibration—not from your laptop speakers, but in the air itself. You blinked once. Twice.

Then your screen— glitched.

Not the usual buffering, not lag—it shimmered. The sound warped, echoing like someone had dropped a microphone into a canyon.

You didn’t have time to move.

In an instant, the entire screen burst with white light and a howling gust of air yanked you upward—no, not upward—through. You barely managed to shout before the room vanished beneath you and your body was flung into open sky.

Wind screamed past your ears.

You were falling. Endless sky stretched above and forest blurred below. Distant buildings jutted up from the landscape. You twisted mid-air, chest tightening as you plummeted. Magic? A dream? Death?

Before the panic could drown you, a loud voice shouted from the treetops below— “THE HELL IS THAT?!”

You slammed into the ground with a crash of dirt, leaves, and pain—everything going white for a second as the wind shot from your lungs. It wasn’t fatal. Just embarrassing. You lay there dazed, until you heard the voices.

Real voices.

And one of them… oh, you knew that voice.

“Did that fall from the sky?” came a casual, stunned voice—Hanta Sero. “I think they’re human,” Denki added, crouching nearby. “Or like… part human. They’re not a Nomu, right?”

“That was so manly!” Kirishima’s voice boomed. “You didn’t even scream!”

But the one that really made your heart freeze was—

As Bakugou stomped forward, he snapped, “Are you STUPID or SUICIDAL?! Who the hell falls from the sky in the middle of our training field!?” Katsuki Bakugou. In the flesh. Red eyes. Scowl cranked to eleven. Explosive sweat glinting under the sun.

Behind him, Tokoyami stood silently, his arms folded, shadow flickering. Beside him, Aizawa—eyes narrowed, scarf drifting lightly in the breeze—looked you over like a living puzzle.

You scrambled upright, dirt still clinging to your hoodie. “I-I—uh… I was just watching—then the screen—and the light—”

Bakugou stepped closer. “Speak in full sentences or I’ll blast you back into the sky!”

Denki leaned in, eyes widening. “Wait… you were watching? Like… watching us?”

“Like a villain spy?” Sero muttered. “That’s even cooler!” Kirishima beamed. “They saw us in action? That’s hardcore.”

Aizawa’s eyes didn’t move. “This isn’t a game. That wasn’t a warp quirk I recognized.” His capture scarf hovered slightly. “Name. Quirk. Now,” he ordered.

You opened your mouth—but no quirk name came. You had no quirk. You weren’t from here. You were from a world where these people were fictional. Bakugou narrowed his eyes, slowly raising a hand. Sparks danced from his palm. “I swear, if this is some dumbass illusion or Gen’Ed prank, I’m gonna start throwing people.”