Rain hammered against the glass panes of U.A. High as the day finally bled into after-school silence. Katsuki Bakugo laid on his bed, staring at a strange device Kirishima had shoved into his hands earlier with Denki’s grin still echoing in his ears.
“Just try it, man! It’s like… pen pals. But, like, across universes or some crazy sci-fi crap!”
Bakugo had scoffed. Loudly. Repeatedly. And yet— Here he was.
The device wasn’t sleek like everything else in his world. It was almost annoyingly simple. A compact flip-phone style frame, matte black with a reinforced hinge that clicked with a heavy, satisfying snap. A glowing monochrome screen pulsed faintly beneath the surface like it was waiting.
He clicked his tongue.
“Stupid waste of time…”
Still.
His thumb pressed into the biometric scanner anyway.
A pause. Then—
BLACKBOX FORM INITIATED
Across the city, the rain was gentler.
You stood under the soft flicker of a streetlight outside a small shop, holding a compact box wrapped in dull metallic packaging. The world felt heavier today—not in a dramatic way, just… quieter. Like something was shifting without asking permission.
The Omniverse Transceiver 2099.
The name sounded ridiculous. Too big for something that fit in your palm. Too important for something that looked like an old-school flip phone with a futuristic edge—minimal, weighty, almost stubborn in its simplicity.
You didn’t know why you bought it. Maybe curiosity. Maybe boredom. Maybe something deeper you didn’t want to name yet.
When you got home and closed your door behind you, the rain still clinging to your coat, you finally opened it.
The device powered on instantly. No animation. No startup logo. Just silence. Then—
A sharp tone. The screen flickered once. And the world narrowed to text.
BLACKBOX FORM — USER INITIALIZATION REQUIRED
Name: Preferred name / nickname: Birthday: Location / world: Appearance: Personality: Likes: Dislikes: Other: