Chapter 6: The Entrance Exam
The gates of U.A. High were colossal, a monument of polished steel and gleaming glass that seemed to scrape the sky. They were designed to inspire awe, to represent a gateway to a future of limitless potential and heroic dreams. To the hundreds of aspiring students chattering nervously around him, it was exactly that. Their faces were a mixture of unbridled excitement and stomach-churning anxiety, their bodies practically vibrating with energy. Minor Quirks were on full display—fingers sparking, skin glowing, small objects levitating in trembling hands.
To Sasuke Uchiha, the gates were merely an obstacle, and the crowd was just noise.
He stood apart, a pool of profound stillness in a river of chaotic emotion. He wasn't here for dreams or to become a symbol. He was here for resources. This facility represented the finest combat training, the most advanced support technology, and the most comprehensive database on Pro Heroes—and by extension, the villains they fought—in the entire country. U.A. was not a goal; it was an armory.
They were herded into a massive auditorium, the lights dimming to cast a spotlight on a stage where the Pro Hero Present Mic stood, his signature grin plastered on his face.
"WELCOME, ALL YOU EXAMINEE LISTENERS!" his voice boomed through the speaker system, making the seats vibrate. "ARE YOU READY TO GET THIS PARTY STARTED?!"
A weak, nervous cheer echoed back. Sasuke ignored the hero's deafening persona, his analytical mind already dissecting the information being presented. The screen behind Present Mic displayed the rules: a ten-minute mock battle in a sprawling urban environment. Points were awarded for disabling robotic "villains" of three different types—1, 2, and 3-pointers, based on their difficulty.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed on the fourth silhouette displayed on the screen, a massive, towering machine.
"AND THEN THERE'S THE BIG GUY!" Present Mic screamed. "The Zero-Pointer! This fella is more of an obstacle! Think of it like a stage gimmick in a video game! My advice? Avoid it! It's worth zero points!"
A test of risk assessment, Sasuke concluded instantly. A trap for the reckless and glory-seeking. He committed the robot designs and their point values to memory. He was already formulating a plan, a path of maximum efficiency that would conserve energy and minimize risk. His gaze swept over the other examinees. He saw the boy with engines in his calves, the one with explosive hands, and a dozen others with obvious, powerful Quirks. Then his eyes briefly passed over a boy with a mop of green hair, vibrating with a level of anxiety so palpable it was almost a Quirk in itself. The boy was muttering to himself, his hands clenched. Sasuke dismissed him immediately. Irrelevant.
The examinees were divided and bused to different battle centers. Sasuke found himself before Battle Center B, another set of impossibly large gates. As the doors began to groan open, Present Mic's voice echoed from unseen speakers. "AAAAND... START!"
For a crucial second, everyone remained frozen, confused by the lack of a countdown.
"WHAT'RE YOU WAITING FOR?! THE CLOCK'S TICKING! REAL BATTLES DON'T HAVE COUNTDOWNS!"
In that moment of collective hesitation, Sasuke moved. He didn't sprint, but rather exploded forward in a burst of controlled motion, the first to cross the threshold into the mock city. He was a black-clad blur, disappearing into the concrete canyons before most of the others had even processed that the exam had begun.
He didn't charge down the main street. Instead, he channeled a small, precise amount of the energy within him—his chakra—to the soles of his feet. Leaping towards the wall of a four-story building, his feet found purchase, and he continued his momentum, running horizontally along the side of the building, a feat of gravity-defying agility that would have made any observer assume he had some kind of adhesion Quirk.
From his elevated vantage point, he could see the entire layout. He saw the other examinees finally pour into the street, immediately engaging the first few 1-pointers in a chaotic brawl of explosions and energy blasts. It was inefficient. Wasteful.
Sasuke watched a 2-pointer get blown apart by a laser beam. He noted how the armor plating shattered, briefly exposing a cluster of wiring at the base of its robotic neck and in its shoulder joints. He noted its single, glowing red camera lens. Weak points identified.
He dropped silently into a narrow alleyway. A 1-point bot swiveled on its treads, its sensor locking onto him. Before its alarm could blare, Sasuke's hand was already a blur. A weighted shuriken, registered as part of his "Support Gear," shot through the air and embedded itself directly in the robot's optical lens with a sharp crack.
Blinded, the robot fired its machine guns wildly. Sasuke was already moving, a shadow flowing over the asphalt. He used a burst of chakra to propel himself upwards, landing on the robot's shoulder. He drew a blunted kunai. With a practiced, economical movement, he drove the point deep into the exposed wiring at its neck joint and twisted. The robot sparked violently and seized, its limbs locking up before it powered down completely.
Disabled. One point. Minimal energy expended.
This became his method. He moved through the city like a phantom, using the alleyways and rooftops, avoiding the main thoroughfares. He was a surgeon, not a soldier. He'd blind the robots with shuriken, then close the distance with chakra-enhanced speed to deliver a precise, disabling blow with his kunai. He racked up points steadily, silently, his movements a symphony of ruthless efficiency.
In a darkened observation room high above the city, screens displayed feeds from every battle center.
"This year's batch is full of powerful Quirks!" a voice commented.
"Indeed. That boy in Battle Center A, the explosive one, has incredible destructive potential," another added.
Shota Aizawa, his eyes dry and tired, took a sip from his juice pouch, his gaze flicking disinterestedly from screen to screen. It was the same every year. Brute force, flashy powers, and a complete lack of subtlety. Then his eyes stopped on one screen, showing an aerial view of Battle Center B.
"Nezu," he said, his voice a low monotone that still managed to cut through the chatter. "Zoom in on that one. Examinee 7111."
The main screen focused on a black-haired boy running along the side of a building. He dropped into an alley, disabled two 3-pointers in under ten seconds without a single wasted movement, and then melted back into the shadows.
"Well now, he's interesting," Principal Nezu chirped, his beady eyes gleaming. "No visible Quirk activation, yet his physical abilities are far beyond human norms."
"He's not fighting them, he's dismantling them," Aizawa noted. "His situational awareness is perfect. He's treating this like an infiltration mission, not a brawl. There's a cold, professional edge to him."
All Might, in his skeletal form, watched the same screen, a thoughtful frown on his face. He saw the skill. He saw the precision. But he saw no joy, no passion. He saw no 'spirit.' There was a dangerous emptiness in the boy's movements.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. A shadow fell over the entire city block as the Zero-Pointer rose from between the buildings, its massive frame scraping against concrete. It was an engine of pure, mindless destruction.
The other examinees screamed and ran, a tide of panic. Sasuke, perched on a rooftop, simply looked up at the towering machine. He analyzed its size, its probable power source, its lack of ranged weaponry beyond its own fists. Then he remembered its point value.
Zero.
"A waste of energy," he muttered to himself, turning to leave. His exam was over; he had accumulated more than enough points.
As he was making his calm retreat, a flash of green caught his eye. He stopped, turning back to see the nervous, muttering boy from before. He was sprinting towards the Zero-Pointer, towards a girl trapped under some rubble.
Then the boy leaped.
He shot into the air like a cannonball, a green lightning crackling around him. Sasuke's eyes widened slightly. That much power was hidden in that timid frame?
"SMASH!"
The boy's fist connected with the robot's head, and the resulting shockwave was apocalyptic. The Zero-Pointer's head imploded, and its massive body was blasted backwards, collapsing into a heap of scrap metal.
Sasuke was, for the first time, genuinely shocked. Not by the power—he had seen power before. He was shocked by the sheer, unadulterated recklessness of the act. As the boy began to fall from the sky, a broken puppet with limbs flailing at unnatural angles, Sasuke analyzed the scene with cold clarity.
A self-destructive Quirk. High-output, zero control. He can only use it once before incapacitating himself. In a real fight against a thinking opponent, he would be useless after the first move. A glass cannon.
The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the exam. Sasuke turned his back on the scene of heroic sacrifice. He felt no admiration, only a mild, academic curiosity. He had seen a strange and inefficient weapon demonstrated. He filed the information away and walked calmly toward the exit, melting back into the crowd of exhausted, hopeful children. The mission was complete.