Three days had passed since the surprise ambush during the Ground Gamma simulation. Three days of questions. Of theories. Of tension. Though no one was killed, the implications were terrifying—powerful individuals from another world had not only found a way into this one, but had begun targeting U.A. itself. And no one knew how far it would go.
Inside the secure meeting hall on U.A.'s lower levels, the staff had gathered. Present were Principal Nezu, Aizawa, All Might, Midnight, Present Mic, Cementoss, and, for the first time, Sabo.
The room was silent until Nezu, sitting on his elevated platform, broke the silence. "I trust you're all recovering well?"
Aizawa leaned forward. "Recovery is relative. We were ambushed. That shouldn't have been possible."
"Security is tightening," Midnight said. "But even so—we're dealing with something beyond the usual villain activity. This isn't the League. It's something older. Angrier."
All Might's brows were furrowed. "That man, Kael… he's not of this world. Neither is the mist entity. Their powers aren't Quirks."
Sabo stood at the far wall, arms folded. "They're from my world."
Everyone turned.
He nodded slowly. "They fought beside me before I was torn from my home. Kael was a freedom fighter. The mist… was someone I barely knew. A wanderer. I thought they were gone, until they showed up here—twisted by this Rift."
Nezu's ears perked. "The Rift. You've mentioned it before."
"It's what brought me here," Sabo said. "I fell through it in a battle. One moment I was fighting to bring down a corrupt regime—the next, I woke up in this world. My flames… my powers… they were intact, but warped. Amplified by something I couldn't explain."
"And you believe the others followed through the same Rift?" Aizawa asked.
Sabo nodded. "But it did something to them. Kael's fire—his passion—it's unstable now. His mind's still sharp, but his heart is… broken."
All Might stood. "Then we must find a way to stop them. Before they hurt anyone else."
"We'll need more than brute force," Present Mic said. "These guys were able to bypass all our sensors and infiltrate a U.A. training sim."
"They didn't just bypass it," Sabo said quietly. "They wanted us to know they were there."
Nezu steepled his paws. "A declaration of war, then."
Sabo looked up. "Then it's time we prepare for battle."
The meeting ended, and word quickly spread through the school. U.A. had entered a heightened state of alert. Patrols doubled. Simulations canceled. Quirk training adjusted to include interdimensional defense.
In the dorms, Class 1-A was gathered in the common room as the storm outside rattled the windows. Rain poured down in sheets, matching the mood.
"Feels like we're not students anymore," Kaminari muttered, slumped on the couch. "We're soldiers."
"We always knew it'd come to this eventually," Jirou said. "But not this soon."
Sabo entered from the hall, dressed in his Revolution coat again, his pipe strapped across his back.
"I'm not here to tell you everything will be okay," he began. "Because I don't know if it will."
The class looked up.
"But I do know this," he said, stepping forward. "You're not just students. You're heroes in training. And heroes train for the day they stand between danger and the people they protect. That day… is coming."
Todoroki stood. "Then we need to train harder."
Bakugo scoffed. "Like I'm gonna let some second-rate hothead from another dimension show me up."
"Kael's fire isn't normal," Midoriya added. "It burns through my Full Cowling's defenses. We'll need a way to counter it."
"Then we start tomorrow," Sabo said. "And we do it together."
The next morning, training began under the harsh sun. No more simulations. No more scripted drills.
Instead, Sabo had requested an open battlefield—and U.A. delivered.
They practiced high-speed response, mixed-Quirk tactics, and improvised defense. Sabo sparred with each of them individually—testing their limits, pushing their focus, and teaching them how to adapt.
He worked closely with Todoroki to develop freezing techniques that could hold Kael's violet flames at bay, encouraging him to embrace more chaotic uses of both fire and ice.
With Bakugo, he sparred explosively, challenging his aggression with fluid counterattacks and redirecting flames with air pressure.
Midoriya received the most time—learning how to blend his mobility with calculated strikes to intercept Kael's movements before his armor could heat up.
They trained into the night. Bruises piled up. Tempers flared. But something else sparked too.
Trust.
Later that night, Sabo sat atop the roof, staring at the stars above. A breeze rolled in from the west, and with it, a familiar voice.
"You're putting your faith in them," Kael's voice echoed from the shadows behind him.
Sabo didn't turn.
"I'm putting my faith where it's earned," he replied calmly.
Kael stepped from the mist, his armor dimmer now. Less flame. More fatigue.
"They'll never understand us," Kael said, stepping beside him.
"They already do," Sabo countered. "They fight with their hearts. Like we used to."
Kael sighed, looking up. "You were always the one who saw hope in the ashes."
"Someone has to," Sabo said, turning to face him. "You don't have to do this. You're not beyond saving."
Kael looked away.
"I didn't come to fight you tonight," he said. "Only to warn you."
Sabo tensed.
"They're coming," Kael said. "The Rift is no longer passive. It's expanding. The mist… it has a name now. 'Nocturne.' And it's not just feeding off us anymore. It's feeding off this world."
Sabo's eyes narrowed. "What does it want?"
"Collapse," Kael whispered. "So it can start over. A world with no past. No pain. Just silence."
Sabo stood. "I won't let that happen."
Kael vanished into the mist.
And Sabo stood alone on the roof—his flame flickering softly in the wind.