Time continued to move without mercy, and finally the wild cavalry battle reached its climax.
The sound of the bell rang out loudly, echoing throughout the entire stadium and stopping every movement. Dust slowly settled, revealing the final outcome of the dramatic point struggle filled with sweat and desperation. In the middle of the arena, Todoroki Shouto stood breathing heavily, his hand gripping tightly the ten-million-point headband that belonged to Midoriya Izuku.
On the other side, Midoriya appeared frozen. His face was deathly pale, his eyes wide with deep disbelief and disappointment. He had lost his ultimate prize in the final seconds. However, that despair did not last long. From behind the shadow of Dark Shadow, Tokoyami Fumikage revealed a surprise, a headband worth 615 points that he had managed to steal from Todoroki's neck in the very last moments. The cheers from the spectators exploded immediately. Even though they had lost the ten million points, those 615 points were enough to secure a position for Midoriya's team.
Nabiel, who was watching the emotional scene from afar atop Shoji's dome, merely yawned softly. "Ah, plot armor and the protagonist's dramatic moment. So cliché, but the execution is not bad," he thought in the tone of a bored film critic. He patted the pocket of his pants, feeling the stolen point headbands. His plan had gone smoothly. He did not need to sweat any more, and his team was safe. Perfect.
"The match is over!" Present Mic shouted from the broadcast booth, his voice booming across the noisy stadium. "Now, let us see which teams have earned the right to advance to the next round!"
Below the main stage, Midnight stood gracefully, holding her whip while gazing at the giant screen that was calculating the total points.
"First place, Team Todoroki!" Midnight announced. The audience's cheers roared once again. "Second place, Team Bakugo! Third place, Team Shinso! And fourth place... Team Midoriya!"
Nabiel blinked slowly. His dark, languid eyes stared at the giant screen. He recounted the points in his head. His team had enough points to be in the top four, thanks to precise steals from several teams, including Todoroki's small headband. Yet their name was not mentioned at all.
An awkward silence fell over Shoji's dome. Mineta had already begun biting his finger in panic, while Tsuyu tilted her head in confusion.
Sensing something wrong with this "script," Nabiel raised his hand wrapped in thick bandages and waved lazily toward the stage.
"Um, Midnight-san. My team?" Nabiel asked casually, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. His voice was not loud, but somehow it was clear enough to catch the attention of the R-Rated hero.
Midnight placed her hands on her hips. Her usually seductive expression turned serious. She let out a long sigh, which the nearby microphone captured, causing the entire stadium to fall suddenly silent.
"Your team..." Midnight paused, staring straight at the young man in the oversized white shirt. "...is disqualified!"
"What?!"
The entire Nabiel team shouted in disbelief. Mineta yanked at his own purple hair, Shoji widened his eyes behind his mask, and even Nabiel, who usually showed no expression, slightly widened his eyes. Disqualified? That word was not in his calculations.
They instantly became the center of attention. Thousands of eyes in the stadium, including their classmates from Class 1-A, now stared sharply at the strange formation led by Nabiel. In the distance, Nabiel could see Yaoyorozu Momo covering her mouth with her hand, looking shocked yet also having a bad premonition.
Tsuyu jumped down from Shoji's dome, her face filled with confusion. "Kero, b-but why, Midnight Sensei?"
Midnight stared at them sharply, her aura as a U.A. teacher radiating strongly. "I think you know it very well. There was a strict warning that extremely dangerous sharp objects capable of causing injury are not allowed. Even though it did not cause any injury at all, it is still very dangerous."
Midnight's gaze shifted slowly, locking onto the main culprit standing with a lazy posture on Shoji's arm. Nabiel.
"Understood?" Midnight emphasized.
Nabiel fell silent. The gears in his head turned rapidly. A blunt tactical knife. Of course. In his effort to hide his cosmic identity and fight like a "normal human with limited Quirk," he had relied on physical weapons. In the real world, bringing a knife to a high school sports festival, even at a hero school, was a fatal security violation. The Outer Observer had forgotten the most basic rule of the school setting for the sake of narrative efficiency.
Nabiel lowered his head. The dangling sleeves of his shirt covered part of his bandaged hands. Although he was reluctant to admit that he had made a stupid mistake that harmed his team, it was clear that he was wrong.
"Sorry, Sensei..." Nabiel muttered softly.
Deep inside, a small part of his ego cheered. "Wait. If I am disqualified, that means I do not have to participate in the next round, right? I can sleep in the infirmary! This is actually an absolute victory!"
However, before Nabiel could celebrate his "freedom" internally, Midnight's voice echoed again, this time in a much gentler tone.
"But do not be discouraged." Midnight tried to comfort them. She glanced toward the special stands where the Pro Heroes were watching, then smiled meaningfully. "In fact, this also proves that you are very skilled at handling that small sharp object. In the middle of that chaos, while maneuvering in the air... one small mistake and it would have directly injured the opponent's neck or face. You may have failed to follow the tournament rules, but the pro heroes did not fail to be impressed by you. Your team's coordination was truly outstanding."
The stadium cameras panned toward the stands. Several Pro Heroes nodded seriously, engaged in deep discussion. They realized just how insane Nabiel's level of precision had been when stealing points from Todoroki without leaving even the slightest scratch.
"But," Midnight continued, popping Nabiel's bubble of hope for an immediate nap, "considering how hard you tried and the extraordinary potential you showed... Principal Nezu and the teaching staff have had a brief discussion. We will still allow one of you to advance and enter the next round as appreciation for your tactical performance."
Nabiel's eyes widened. "Wait, what? What kind of compromise is this? What kind of script allows the rules to be broken halfway?!" the Outer protested loudly in his mind against MHA's narrative laws.
"You all surely know that the next round is one-on-one duel battles," Midnight continued with a challenging smile. "So, you can choose who will advance. Discuss it among yourselves."
Nabiel's team looked at one another in the middle of the field. An awkward breeze blew between them.
"I am not interested at all," Mineta said extremely quickly, without any hesitation, cold sweat drenching his face. "One-on-one? Against monsters like Todoroki or Bakugo? I would rather die of starvation than get beaten up in front of thousands of people!"
"True, I would probably lose in a matter of seconds," Asui added in her characteristically flat and rational tone. "My abilities are more suited for mobility and support, not frontal combat in an open arena. Kero."
Now Mineta and Asui turned at the same time. Their gazes fell on the two remaining members, the two figures most capable of withstanding physical attacks in the arena.
Shoji Mezo and Nabiel.
Nabiel swallowed hard. He looked at Shoji with a pleading gaze, something he rarely did. "Shoji, please," Nabiel telepathized in his heart. "You are big. You are strong. You have six arms. You are perfectly suited for a martial arts tournament. Take the stage."
Shoji looked at Nabiel. Behind his mask, the big youth's expression was hard to read. However, slowly, Shoji crossed his large arms over his chest.
"I only acted as a shield," Shoji said in his deep, wise voice. "You were the one who devised the strategy. You were the one who took the risk of jumping toward Todoroki. And you were the reason those pro heroes were impressed. That spot belongs to you, Nabiel."
"W-wait a minute, Shoji, let us think rationally," Nabiel tried to argue, his voice slightly panicked beneath his flat tone. He raised his heavily bandaged hand, displaying the terrible burn scars from the USJ incident that he had deliberately not healed. "Look at this. My hand is damaged. I cannot punch. I am forbidden from using a knife. My Quirk has complicated activation conditions. If I advance, I will just be a free punching bag for whoever my opponent is."
"Precisely because of that," Asui interrupted while staring intently at Nabiel. "We want to see how you overcome those obstacles without a knife and without using your hands, Nabiel-kun. You always look indifferent, but at USJ you fought the hardest."
Mineta nodded in agreement with excessive enthusiasm. "That's right! You have to advance, Nabiel! Take revenge for our disqualification! Become our martyr!"
Nabiel froze stiffly. He had been betrayed by his own team. He was the Outer Observer, an entity that was supposed to stand outside the boundaries of the story, watching the conflicts from his throne. Yet now, because of a blunt knife and the sense of responsibility forced upon him by his friends, he was being dragged forcibly onto the center stage of the performance.
From afar, Nabiel's black eyes caught the silhouette of Yaoyorozu Momo among the crowd of Class 1-A. The girl was looking at him with a worried expression, yet there was a spark of hope in her eyes, hope that Nabiel would stop running away and start truly "living" in this story.
Nabiel let out a very long sigh, so long that it felt as if part of his soul had been exhaled. He slipped his bandaged hand back into the pocket of his oversized shirt.
"Fine," Nabiel muttered in resignation, ruffling his already messy black hair. He looked at Midnight with the expression of someone who had just been forced to work on his day off. "I will advance, Sensei. But please note that I am doing this under duress."
Midnight smiled widely and flicked her whip into the air. "Excellent! The burning spirit of youth! With this, the final spot in the tournament round is filled by Nabiel from Class 1-A!"
The cheers from the spectators erupted once again. Nabiel could only stare at the blue sky above the U.A. stadium, realizing that his effort to remain a lazy background character had failed completely. This story turned out to be far more troublesome than he had imagined.