The air outside U.A. High's massive testing facility was buzzing with energy. Years had passed since the legendary days of Izuku Midoriya and the original Class 1-A. Now, a new generation stood at the gates of destiny—each dreaming of becoming the next great Pro Hero.
Among the crowd stood a tall figure, silent and unmoving.
Tetsuya Goro, age 17, bronze eyes locked forward, didn't shift or fidget like the others. The sun gleamed off the streak of metallic silver running through his spiky black hair. He wore a simple compression shirt and reinforced training pants—designed to stretch and survive his Titan Core quirk. On his back was a worn gym bag, but the real weight was the pressure he carried inside.
"Breathe steady. Don't crack the pavement when you move," he told himself.
Years of training had made him strong—almost too strong. A handshake could crush fingers if he wasn't careful. A full-force sprint could rupture the ground beneath him. That's why he trained alone most of the time. That's why he never joined sparring clubs.
And now, here he was—about to take the U.A. Entrance Exam.
A loudspeaker blared overhead.
"All participants, please proceed to the gate! Battle trial begins in 10 minutes!"
Tetsuya exhaled deeply and walked forward, each step unnervingly heavy. Other students glanced at him as he passed. Whispers started.
"Is that guy a third-year or something?"
"Dude looks like a villain…"
"What's he made of, iron?!"
He ignored them. He always did. But that didn't mean it didn't sting.
Inside the massive arena, combat robots—some the size of cars—began booting up. The announcer's voice echoed once again.
"Battle Phase: Begin! Points are earned by disabling robots! Go!"
The second the signal went off, the field erupted in chaos.
Speedsters dashed. Blasters fired. Elementals rained down fury.
Tetsuya stood still.
Then—BOOM—he launched forward like a missile, pavement cracking under his heels. A two-pointer robot turned toward him. Too late.
"Iron Slam!"
A single punch. The robot detonated, flipping backward like scrap metal in a windstorm. Shockwaves rippled out, knocking other nearby students off their feet.
"W-Whoa! That guy just demolished that thing—"
"Is he already at ten points?!"
Tetsuya kept moving. Calm. Focused.
A three-pointer launched a barrage of missiles. He crossed his arms and Fortress Stance-planted himself into the ground. The missiles exploded on contact—but Tetsuya didn't budge an inch. Smoke cleared.
His eyes were glowing bronze now.
"...My turn."
He surged forward again, punching straight through the robot's chest like it was paper.
Ten minutes in, he had 45 points. He wasn't keeping track, but the announcers were.
"Candidate 1097—Tetsuya Goro—is absolutely crushing the battlefield! What a monster!"
Tetsuya finally slowed down, sweat dripping from his forehead. Steam began rising off his body. The heat. He knew the signs.
His muscles were starting to overheat.
But then—
The ground shook. A massive four-story tall zero-pointer emerged from the far side of the city arena. Students screamed and scattered.
Except for one girl—pinned under rubble.
Without thinking, Tetsuya pushed forward. His legs screamed. His muscles burned. But he ran.
You want to be a hero?
Then move.
Move.
He tore the debris off the girl and tossed her over his shoulder.
The zero-pointer raised its foot.
Tetsuya didn't run away. He turned. Planted his feet.
"...OVERDRIVE SMASH!!"
A pulse of energy exploded from his body as his fibers tightened beyond their limits. He jumped—and with both fists, crushed the robot's ankle joint mid-air.
It didn't fall.
It collapsed.
The arena went silent.
He landed hard, coughing blood, one knee buckling. His vision blurred. The girl was safe. The machine was down.
He smiled faintly, even through the pain.
Later, lying on a stretcher, eyes half-lidded, he heard someone nearby murmur:
"He might not be flashy, but… that guy's solid. Like a damn fortress."
And for the first time in a long time, Tetsuya let himself relax.
He had taken the first step.
To become a wall strong enough to protect everyone.
The world outside Tetsuya's apartment was alive—distant car horns, children playing in the alley, the muffled buzz of city life. But inside the tiny two-room space he shared with his grandfather, everything was still.
Tetsuya sat on the edge of his futon, arms resting on his knees. He had just returned from the corner gym, bandages wrapping his knuckles. His muscles still ached from the U.A. entrance exam two days ago, and his right shoulder had a dull throb from where he overextended during the Overdrive Smash.
A cooling patch clung to his neck. He stared at the blank TV screen in front of him. The silence was unbearable.
Then—ding.
The ancient laptop on the kotatsu lit up.
New Message: UA Admissions Office
His breath caught.
This is it.
He moved slowly, deliberately, as if rushing might somehow ruin the moment. He clicked the message. The screen flickered.
Static.
Then… light.
A familiar wide grin filled the screen—older now, with a few more lines under his eyes, but unmistakable.
"HELLO, TETSUYA GORO!"
"I am Mirio Togata, Pro Hero: Lemillion—and one of the current instructors at U.A. High!"
Tetsuya blinked.
Mirio Togata? One of the Big Three himself?
Mirio beamed, arms outstretched.
"You might be wondering, 'Did I pass?' Well…"
"Let's rewind a bit."
The video cut to footage from the exam—grainy clips showing Tetsuya smashing through robots like they were made of tinfoil. Iron Slam. Fortress Stance. The Overdrive Smash that toppled the zero-pointer.
Then, footage shifted: Tetsuya pulling the girl from the rubble. Shielding her with his own body. Taking a direct explosion to his side without flinching.
Mirio's voice came back.
"You earned 45 combat points, which is already impressive."
"But U.A. also awards rescue points—and for saving another student while nearly passing out from internal stress, we awarded you 60 rescue points."
Tetsuya leaned forward.
"Total score: 105 points. One of the highest of your entire testing class."
A pause. Then—
"Welcome to U.A. High. You've been accepted into the Hero Course, Class 1-A!"
The screen erupted in fireworks, and Mirio gave a huge thumbs-up.
"We can't wait to see what you'll become, Ironclad."
The video ended. The laptop screen dimmed back to black.
Tetsuya sat motionless.
Then his grandfather's voice came from the kitchen, raspy but warm.
"So…? Was that them?"
Tetsuya turned slightly, the faintest smile forming on his face.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm in."
There was a long silence. The old man didn't reply right away. Then:
"Heh. Damn right you are."
Tetsuya turned back to the screen. His reflection shimmered faintly in the glass, bronze eyes glowing ever so slightly.
U.A. High School…
Class 1-A.
I'm going to prove I'm more than muscle.
I'm going to be the wall that never breaks.