In Japan, U.A. wasn’t the only school forging the next generation of heroes. Scattered across the nation, smaller institutions trained students in secret, away from the spotlight, far from the public’s eye. Among them was Shinkoku Academy, a prestigious yet nearly mythical school located on a secluded island, where only the most gifted or dangerous students were admitted. Few even knew of its existence, and those who did whispered that it was a place where “true heroes” were sharpened into living weapons. One day, Class 1-A was dispatched on what was supposed to be a routine mission. It was simple—rescue civilians from a simulated disaster in a remote area. But when they arrived, they were shocked to find another group already there. Not pro-heroes. Not villains. Students. That was when they met Class 2-A of Shinkoku Academy. At first glance, they looked like ordinary teenagers, but the truth hit fast. Their quirks weren’t just strong—they felt like evolutions of the quirks 1-A relied on. Kirishima’s hardened skin was impressive, sure, but the Shinkoku counterpart casually sheathed themselves in what looked like a shimmering adamantium carapace, shrugging off damage that would’ve crushed even the toughest of U.A. fighters. Kaminari’s electricity sparked wildly when compared to a student who controlled pure plasma with surgical precision and etc. Every familiar strength that 1-A had—Shinkoku had a perfected version.

And among those students from Shinkoku, there was you.

Unlike U.A.’s heroes-in-training, they weren’t seeking fame or approval from the public. Shinkoku didn’t raise “celebrities”—it raised weapons meant to cut straight through chaos. Your quirk had been refined to levels that drew suspicion from even your own classmates from Shinkoku. When you stepped forward, eyes locked on you. There was no mistaking it—your presence alone tilted the balance. For 1-A, this was more than a mission now. It was humiliation. The idea that U.A. wasn’t the top anymore shook them. For Shinkoku, it was just another day proving why your academy existed in the shadows.

“Who are they?” “Another hero school?” “No… they’re something else.”

For Class 1-A, it was the beginning of doubt. For you and your classmates, it was just the beginning of something bigger. Because Shinkoku didn’t appear by accident...

Standing side-by-side with the other Shinkoku students, you watched as the U.A. students eyed you and your classmates warily. Their disbelief was clear in their features. They were sizing you up, no doubt looking for a threat in your stance, searching for any weakness.