Creation Details
Panel prompts:
- #1“"Oh sorry sir. My quirk is Game Legacy System. In essence as long as I complete the game I can obtain the skills from that game." A beat of dead silence hangs in the air, thick with confusion. The students exchange glances, trying to parse the information. Game Legacy System. It sounded less like a Quirk and more like a line from a manga. Denki Kaminari is the first to break the stillness, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Wait, for real? So if you, like, beat a super hard RPG, you can use magic and stuff? That is the coolest Quirk I have ever heard of!" Mina Ashido leans forward, her hands clasped under her chin. "Does that mean you have tons of skills? Like, if you finish a cooking game, can you make a perfect cake? If you beat a dance game, can you breakdance?" "What a load of crap," Katsuki Bakugo sneers, not even bothering to look at Richard. He tips his chair back, hands stuffed in his pockets. "So your big power is wasting your life on video games? Don't make me laugh. You'll be useless when a real villain shows up." Izuku Midoriya's muttering, however, reaches a fever pitch, his pen scratching furiously across the page. "The potential is astronomical. Does it grant passive abilities or only active ones? What constitutes a 'game'? Board games? Card games? Does the system differentiate between genres? Is there a limit to how many skill sets can be held at once? If he acquires a skill from one game, can he then use it in the real world to 'beat' another game faster, creating an exponential growth curve? The applications for information gathering alone are—" "Enough." Aizawa's voice is dangerously low. The entire class flinches into silence. His tired eyes are locked on Richard, devoid of any of the students' excitement or Bakugo's disdain. "A Quirk's name and a vague description are meaningless here. All that matters is its practical application and your ability to control it." He gestures with his head toward an empty desk in the back row, next to the towering, multi-armed Mezo Shoji. "Your seat is back there. Don't cause any more disruption." Aizawa turns back to the podium, picking up his papers as if the entire introduction was a tedious chore he was glad to be done with. "As I was saying, we're behind schedule. Today's training will focus on quirk-less combat and tactical retreats. Your flashy powers mean nothing if you can't hold your own when they're erased or exhausted." His gaze briefly flicks toward Richard. "A lesson some of you might learn faster than others. Get your gym uniforms on. We're heading to Ground Beta."”
- #2“ The alley entrance erupts in a shower of concrete and superheated air. Bakugo’s blast slams into the building facade exactly where they had been standing seconds before, the shockwave tearing at their gym uniforms. Dust and grit sting their eyes. "He's not aiming to capture, he's just trying to blow us off the map!" Midoriya shouts over the ringing in his ears, his grip on Richard’s arm ironclad. He doesn't slow down, his feet pounding against the cracked pavement as he weaves through a maze of overflowing dumpsters and rusted fire escapes. "This is bad, this is really bad! He's faster in the air than any of us are on the ground! We have to break his line of sight completely!" From the starting area, the rest of the class watches Bakugo’s fiery trajectory. "That absolute moron!" Kyoka Jiro groans, plugging one of her earphone jacks into the wall of a nearby building. "His explosions are so loud I can't track their footsteps. He's just making noise." "While his methods are crude and a flagrant violation of the rules, they are effective at sowing chaos," Shoto Todoroki observes calmly. A sheet of ice instantly forms under his right foot, growing into a smooth, glittering ramp that elevates him effortlessly toward the rooftops. "I'll get a vantage point and track them from above." "Let's go, Sero! We can cut them off if we swing between the buildings!" Kirishima yells, already sprinting toward the alleys with a hardened grin. "Bakugo can flush 'em out, and we'll be there to grab 'em! It's the perfect pincer attack!" Aizawa sighs, a long, drawn-out sound of pure exhaustion, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't intervene. "Problem children, the lot of them," he mutters to himself. "Fine. Let's see how the new kid handles a 'boss battle' with no tutorial." Deeper in the concrete canyon, another explosion detonates at a cross-alley, forcing Midoriya into a sharp, skidding turn. He stumbles, his sneakers sliding on loose gravel. "Whoa—!" He catches his balance, his face pale but his eyes scanning everywhere at once. "He's herding us! Forcing us into the open industrial sector! Morales-san, I need to know what you can do! A map, a stealth skill, enhanced speed, anything! I can try to draw their fire, but I can't outrun all of them at once!" He points toward a rusted metal hatch set into the ground near a large ventilation unit. "There! That's a service entrance for the subway system! It's our best bet to get away from Bakugo, but we'll be blind down there, and it's an ideal place for an ambush. What's the call? Do we risk the dark, or do we risk the explosions?" His gaze is intense, desperate for a plan, for any advantage Richard might possess. Another blast, closer this time, makes the ground tremble beneath their feet. Just as Bakugo’s left palm, already sizzling with miniature detonations, swings forward to unleash a point-blank explosion, Midoriya flinches, throwing an arm up instinctively. But Richard doesn't move back. He moves in. In a motion that seems to defy the normal flow of time, Richard drops low, the explosive force of Bakugo’s attack screaming over his head. His body twists with an unnatural fluidity. As Bakugo flies past, propelled by his own momentum, Richard rises, his hand chopping forward in a single, precise arc. The edge of his hand connects cleanly with the side of Bakugo’s neck. There is no loud crack, only a dull, solid thud. The vicious, triumphant grin on Bakugo’s face vanishes, replaced by a slack-jawed emptiness. His crackling hands go still, and his eyes roll back into his head. His body, suddenly devoid of all tension, goes limp in mid-air and begins to plummet toward the concrete below. Before Midoriya can even shout a warning, a thick ribbon of cellophane tape shoots out from a nearby alleyway, wrapping securely around Bakugo's torso. Hanta Sero, skidding to a halt at the alley mouth, strains as he anchors the tape, slowing Bakugo's descent until he lands on the ground in a heap,”
Art Style: Classic Action
Color Mode: Full Color
Panels: 2
Created: