Ectoplasm was not the sort of teacher to underestimate students.
That was the entire reason he was still standing.
...
Bidding their farewells to Cementoss, Kurokami Tenshin and Eijiro Kirishima walked out through the large gates of the exam area.
Behind them remained a battered battlefield of shattered concrete, collapsed structures and enough collateral damage to make any construction company cry.
Above the city simulation, Aizawa's flat, almost uninterested voice echoed through the speakers.
"Eijiro Kirishima and Kurokami Tenshin pass successfully."
There was half a second of silence.
Then—
SMACK.
The two immediately high-fived.
Unfortunately, Kirishima instantly regretted existing.
His entire body seized.
His face twisted.
"GAH—"
His arm dropped.
Kuro blinked.
The calm white glow outlining him completely faded away, returning to the bright, vibrant purple aura that naturally drifted around him.
Concern immediately replaced excitement.
"…Kirishima?"
Kirishima rolled his shoulder.
"…Ow."
Kuro stared.
"…You alright?"
Kirishima breathed out through his nose.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm good."
Another pause.
"…I think."
He flexed his fingers.
"Got hit by a lot of cement."
He looked back toward the arena.
"…Honestly? I kinda stop feeling stuff once the fight gets going."
Kuro looked weirdly understanding.
"Oh."
He nodded.
"That happens to me too."
Kirishima looked over.
Kuro shrugged.
"When stuff gets exciting, everything kinda disappears."
He gestured vaguely.
"Pain. Thinking. Strategy."
He smiled.
"Just fighting."
Kirishima stared.
Then slowly nodded.
"…Yeah."
Kuro looked toward the sky.
"That exam was weird."
Kirishima blinked.
"What?"
Kuro crossed his arms.
"I didn't like the intellectual part."
Kirishima immediately nodded.
"RIGHT?"
Kuro continued.
"I prefer punching."
Another nod.
"Same."
Kuro looked serious.
"Thinking during fights is inefficient."
Kirishima's expression became solemn.
"Exactly."
Two men connected through exactly three functioning brain cells.
Then Kirishima remembered.
Actually remembered.
He turned.
"…Wait."
He pointed.
"That thing."
Kuro blinked.
"What thing?"
Kirishima pointed at him.
"The color."
Kuro looked down.
"Oh."
He thought for a second.
"That?"
Kirishima nodded.
"Yeah."
Kuro scratched his cheek.
"…Not much to say."
Kirishima stared.
That answer was unacceptable.
Kuro thought for another second.
"I guess…"
He looked upward.
"…everyone started growing."
Kirishima tilted his head.
Kuro shrugged.
"Bakugo got stronger."
"Midoriya got stronger."
"Todoroki started doing weird emotional development stuff."
"Denki somehow became useful."
Somewhere else on campus—
Kaminari sneezed.
Kuro continued.
"So I thought…"
His expression softened slightly.
"…I didn't wanna get left behind."
Kirishima listened quietly.
Kuro wasn't usually the type to phrase things like that.
He was loud.
Simple.
Confident.
This was strangely honest.
Kuro stretched.
"So I started trying stuff."
He held his hand out.
Purple energy flickered.
Then—
briefly—
white.
Quiet.
Contained.
Then it vanished.
Kuro looked at it.
"…Couldn't really find a new path."
He smiled anyway.
"But I made that."
Kirishima stared.
"…What even is it?"
Kuro shrugged.
"No idea."
He flexed his hand.
"It's weaker."
Kirishima looked surprised.
"Weaker?"
Kuro nodded.
"Way weaker."
He punched the air.
"My normal stuff hits harder."
Then he paused.
"…But."
He looked at his hand.
"It doesn't tire me."
Kirishima blinked.
Kuro continued.
"My usual style feels like sprinting."
"That felt…"
He paused.
"…like walking."
Kirishima looked thoughtful.
That was actually—
kind of cool.
Silence.
Then his eyes widened.
Wait.
This was important.
This wasn't a time for understanding.
This was a time—
for naming attacks.
He turned dramatically.
"Kuro."
Kuro looked over.
"What?"
Kirishima pointed.
"That form."
Kuro blinked.
"What about it?"
Kirishima crossed his arms.
"It needs a cool name."
Kuro stared.
Then immediately nodded.
"You're right."
The two stood there.
Thinking.
Very hard.
Approximately six collective thoughts were generated.
Meanwhile—
Elsewhere in the exam city.
Ectoplasm stood motionless atop broken concrete.
Unlike Cementoss, this battlefield had become quiet.
Too quiet.
Dark.
Far darker than it should have been.
Ectoplasm's quirk allowed him to create clones.
Normally, against students—
that was overwhelming.
Numbers.
Pressure.
Area denial.
Control.
But he wasn't fighting normal students.
He was fighting a pair whose strengths covered each other absurdly well.
Fumikage Tokoyami.
Tsuyu Asui.
Versatility.
Stealth.
Mobility.
Control.
And most importantly—
discipline.
Dark Shadow tore through another clone.
Black energy surged across walls.
A claw split a rooftop.
The clone vanished.
Smoke.
Ectoplasm moved.
Another clone moved.
Another stayed hidden.
Tokoyami stood below.
Calm.
Dark Shadow floated around him.
But Ectoplasm noticed something.
Dark Shadow wasn't wild.
Not completely.
It was stronger.
More aggressive.
But—
controlled.
Tokoyami spoke quietly.
"I must admit…"
Dark Shadow lashed out.
Another clone disappeared.
"…this feels unlike me."
Ectoplasm landed.
"Oh?"
Tokoyami's eyes stayed forward.
Dark Shadow spread.
"I don't normally insist on defeating someone."
Tsuyu wasn't visible.
Only occasional movement.
Only brief sounds.
Tongue.
Landing.
Silence.
Tokoyami continued.
"But…"
Dark Shadow slammed another clone.
Smoke.
He looked upward.
"We have quite the class."
Ectoplasm quietly listened.
Tokoyami's voice lowered.
"…They're reckless."
Dark Shadow expanded.
"…showy."
Another strike.
"…competitive."
A pause.
Tokoyami looked directly at Ectoplasm.
"And somehow."
Dark Shadow opened its glowing eyes.
"…I feel the need to beat you."
Ectoplasm smiled.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Meanwhile—
hidden completely.
Tsuyu clung upside down to a broken ceiling.
Watching.
Waiting.
Quiet.
Not rushing.
Because Tokoyami understood.
If she ran—
they'd win.
Too easy.
Too obvious.
But if Ectoplasm committed—
if he focused—
if Tokoyami occupied him—
then Tsuyu could do what she did best.
Disappear.
Observe.
Strike.
She wasn't escaping.
She was hunting.
Ectoplasm moved.
Tokoyami moved.
Dark Shadow roared.
And somewhere—
hidden above—
Tsuyu quietly whispered—
"Found you."
...
Ectoplasm was a trained Pro Hero.
His Quirk was never designed for spectacular, city-level battles or overwhelming displays of force. Instead, it excelled in the situations heroes dreaded most: hostage rescues, mass panic, disaster response, evacuation efforts, and apprehending dangerous criminals without harming civilians. Every clone he created represented another pair of hands to protect someone, another mind capable of making split-second decisions, another body willing to place itself between danger and innocent lives.
Naturally, because of that, he had spent years operating from disadvantageous positions.
Being outnumbered.
Protecting others while fighting.
Working with incomplete information.
Being forced to think faster than his opponent.
Against students, that experience alone was terrifying.
One of his idle clones suddenly sprang backward.
Tsuyu's pink tongue shot through the darkness where its head had been only a fraction of a second earlier, striking nothing but empty air before immediately retracting.
"...That's annoying."
The thought crossed Tsuyu Asui's mind with remarkable calm.
She had deliberately avoided striking aggressively, instead trying to silently eliminate clones one by one in the hope that one of them would prove to be the original Ectoplasm. With enough patience, enough observation, and enough luck, she could end the exam without Tokoyami ever having to overpower their teacher directly.
Instead...
He'd predicted her.
Several nearby clones immediately reacted.
Not randomly.
Not independently.
Perfectly.
One clone scooped up a chunk of broken masonry and pitched it toward her hiding place.
Another launched himself onto the first clone's shoulders.
A third vaulted off both of them.
Two more changed direction simultaneously.
One deliberately stumbled, becoming a stepping stone for another clone to gain extra height.
In only moments, the clones were no longer individuals.
They had become a coordinated hunting pack.
Tsuyu immediately pushed off the wall.
The brick she'd been clinging to shattered as rubble crashed into it.
She landed lightly against another building before leaping again.
Another clone intercepted.
She twisted in midair.
His kick missed by centimetres.
Landing wasn't even an option.
The next clone had already anticipated it.
Tsuyu's pupils narrowed.
Their teamwork...
It's unbelievable.
While Tsuyu excelled at moving like a frog—rapid leaps, scaling vertical surfaces, ambushing from above, camouflage through stillness, rescue operations, and surprising enemies with sudden attacks—direct combat had never been her specialty.
She simply hadn't devoted as much of her training toward prolonged fighting.
Ectoplasm had.
Years upon years of experience.
Countless arrests.
Endless patrols.
And a Quirk that multiplied every ounce of that experience dozens of times over.
Each clone wasn't merely another body.
It possessed his combat instincts.
His awareness.
His adaptability.
It was like fighting an entire squad of veteran heroes.
Tsuyu clicked her tongue.
Retreat.
She bent her knees, preparing to disappear back into the darkness before the clones completely surrounded her.
Then—
Something grabbed her ankle.
Her eyes widened.
She looked down.
A clone's hand.
No—
Not one clone.
Several.
She instinctively followed the arm upward.
Another clone stood on its shoulders.
Then another.
Another.
Another.
Another.
A literal human ladder stretched upward through the darkness.
Built in seconds.
Less than six.
Each clone supported the next with perfect balance until the highest one had reached her concealed position.
"...Amazing..."
Even Tsuyu couldn't help thinking it.
She'd spent the entire fight relying on vertical movement.
Ectoplasm hadn't chased her.
He'd simply climbed.
Far away, Tokoyami immediately noticed.
"Tsu!"
Dark Shadow surged.
The monstrous shadow lunged forward.
Unfortunately—
He was trapped.
The surrounding clones threw themselves directly into Dark Shadow's path.
One vanished.
Another immediately replaced it.
Three more grabbed the shadow's arm.
Five were swept away.
Seven more rushed in.
It was almost absurd.
The literal embodiment of the old saying.
A hundred humans versus a gorilla.
Dark Shadow possessed an overwhelming, destructive force.
But every second spent destroying clones was another second Tsuyu remained alone.
Ectoplasm had divided the battlefield perfectly.
Tokoyami gritted his teeth.
"Move!"
Dark Shadow tore another wave of clones apart.
Smoke exploded throughout the street.
Tsuyu inhaled once.
No panic.
Think.
She glanced downward.
Too many clones.
Jumping meant being caught.
Pulling free would take too long.
She needed another anchor.
Her tongue shot outward.
Rather than aiming elsewhere—
She wrapped it around herself.
"...Blegh."
Even Tsuyu couldn't pretend that it tasted pleasant.
Then—
Thunk.
Her tongue struck the nearby wall.
The sticky mucus coating it adhered instantly.
Frog saliva wasn't merely sticky.
It bordered on absurd.
The wall became a lifeline.
Just as the highest clone pulled downward—
Dark Shadow finally arrived.
A massive black hand swept horizontally across the street.
The human ladder collapsed.
Clone after clone disappeared into smoke.
The sudden loss of support sent the remaining clones tumbling.
But Tsuyu didn't fall.
Her tongue held firm.
She swung gently against the side of the building before pulling herself higher with practiced ease.
Safe.
For the moment.
Tokoyami finally exhaled.
"Tsu...!"
"I'm alright, Tokoyami."
Her voice remained perfectly level.
The only downside...
Her hiding place was gone.
Every clone now knew exactly where she was.
The darkness no longer concealed her.
She looked over the battlefield.
Twenty seconds.
At most.
That was how long she estimated she had before Ectoplasm reorganized his formation and forced another engagement.
Twenty seconds to do what she'd been trying to accomplish since the exam began.
Find the real Ectoplasm.
She narrowed her eyes.
One clone.
Just one.
That was all she needed.
Somewhere among the dozens of identical heroes moving through the ruined streets...
The original was watching.
And frogs were exceptionally good at spotting movement.
Now it was simply a matter of proving it.