10 Conflict

Disclaimer: I don't own My Hero Academia and Dark Souls, both belongs to their respective owners, Kohei Horikoshi and FromSoftware respectively.

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As Izuku and Nezu, the mentally insane sapient beings, sat in silence, the pseudo-immortal teen of the duo couldn't help but think of what lied in store for him during the practical test.

Judging by how it is a hero school, one that gears its students for combat during the start of their career, Izuku kept on thinking about how to manage without his equipment.

'I can fight barehanded, no problem. Did that against good ol' Siegmeyer once? Fun times.' Izuku reminisced as he clenched both his hands. It was a fun fight, truly, with both Izuku and Siegmeyer laughing as they beat each other black and blue, while Trusty Patches looked on with amusement, his signature smirk plastered on his face. 'Or use Pyromancy and singe Patches again if he ripped me off... again. You know what? Maybe I should throw a fireball at him. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.'

It was a reprieve from the horrors they had faced in Lordran, and sometimes, bonding through good ol' fisticuffs was the key to long and lasting friendships. Sure, Solaire didn't like it, what with his main shtick being jolly cooperation, but there is no cooperation without mutual respect, something Izuku had a lot for the sun-themed knight.

Oh, how he missed his sunbro…

"Principal Nezu." Izuku suddenly called out to the animal in the room.

"Yes, Midoriya? Do you have a question?" The amalgamation of animals was all but waiting pleasantly for the words of the target of his curiosity.

"What will I do during the practical exam?" Izuku stared at the animal, Nezu's beady eyes not giving a hint as to what the dog-bear-rat hybrid was thinking.

"Now why would I go and spoil the fun?" Nezu chirped, his feet wearing oversized shoes dangling below the couch. "Apologies for using your past as a reference, but didn't you mention that you had to learn first-hand about the dangers of Lordran?"

"Hm? I didn't, though." Izuku tilted his head. Did he really mention that? His memory was spotty, but he would know if he mentioned something about Lordran to this hyper-intelligent animal.

"Ah, forgive me. I misused a word." Nezu waved his paws. "Allow me to rectify that. I meant to use the word 'imply'."

"What do yo- Oh, I get it." Izuku grinned, his teeth bared. "Sneaky rat."

"Please, call me RAT GOD." Nezu's words threw Izuku for a loop. "Yes, in all caps."

"… You know what? Alright, RAT GOD." Izuku shrugged, his smile still plastered on his lips.

"Ah, finally, a sensible being." Nezu clapped his paws together. "You have no idea how hard it is to get my colleagues to refer to me with my assumed title."

"I dunno, maybe they aren't insane like we are?" Izuku provided with a smirk.

"Hm, you have a point there, Midoriya." Nezu hummed. "I'll have to draft some plans; make them susceptible to my nagging."

Izuku snorted. "Good luck then, RAT GOD."

All over the campus, all the teachers felt a shiver rush down their backs. Their days of peace within the halls of U.A. High School was coming to an end.

All thanks to the pseudo-immortal teen who gave a suggestion for the insane amalgamation of animals.

As the two bonded over their bout of insanity, a knock was heard on the door.

"Come in." Nezu called out, and the door swung open, revealing the visage of the shaggy man that brought Izuku to Nezu's office. "Ah, Aizawa, is the written exam already finished?"

"Yes." Aizawa nodded and glanced at the white-haired teen. "All students are to proceed to the auditorium for the practical exam rundown, you included."

"Alright." Izuku got up from the quite comfortable couch and stretched before following Aizawa to the door.

"Ah, by the way, Midoriya." The teen looked back at the animal with a raised eyebrow. "Please, do your best. It would be quite a sight if a battle-hardened veteran like you fell for the likes of what the school has in store for the students."

Tilting his head, Izuku nodded once before he followed Aizawa out to the hall.

"Alright, problem child." Aizawa's voice caught the attention of the white-haired teen, who was silently following along. "The auditorium is just down the hall. Don't be late."

And as fast as Aizawa was with Izuku, he was gone just as quick, leaving a blinking Izuku to his lonesome. Shrugging, Izuku made his way to the auditorium, humming an ear-scratching tune all the while.

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"Damn, that's a… lot of humans…" Izuku gulped as he deftly maneuvered amongst the busybody that was the entirety of the U.A. hopefuls.

To be honest, Izuku was feeling quite out of his depth here. He was used to isolation and solitary areas, with the occasional hollow, creature, or demon here and there. This? This was a complete other-ball game.

At minimum, there must've been at least 500 hopefuls, all of whom Izuku could take on if it ever came to it. A single Chaos Storm could work, and the wonderful scent of charred bodies could grace his nostrils again.

Hell, even his own charred body sometimes smelled great to him. Izuku does not know why, but it does. Weird…

"HELLO LISTENERS! ARE Y'ALL READY!?"

'By Gwyn's balls, my ears!' Izuku slammed his palms on his ears, the sound a tad much for him to handle.

Izuku wasn't the only one who was affected.

"Ah, oops, my bad listeners." For all his posturing, the man/hero that served as their proctor looked sheepish enough that he rubbed the back of his head. "I swear the rat has something to do with this."

His mumbling at the end was faint, but to Izuku's trained ears, he was able to listen in on it.

"So the RAT GOD strikes again." Izuku chuckled slightly. Around him, the hopefuls caught on to his word, a bit curious and perturbed at the words the white-haired teen said.

Perhaps they felt the pressure of the capital letters? Could be… Could be…

"Disregarding that little mishap at the start, for those of you who don't know who I am, I am Present Mic!" The bombastic hero continued with a huge grin on his face, the speakers strapped to his neck, making him look like a goofy DJ. "Anyways, enough about who I am. You all didn't come here to listen to me yap about myself, but y'all are here to take the U.A. Entrance Exam, ya feel me!"

Present Mic was expecting a response, but silence was all he got.

"Yeesh, tough crowd." Present Mic chuckled. "Anyway, here's the downbeat for your practicals, ya dig!"

The hero pressed on a remote he was holding, and the huge television behind him lit up, showcasing three distinct forms.

"Y'all will be separated into different groups. If you don't know where you're supposed to be, just look at your paper, little listeners." Izuku looked at the piece of paper he was holding the entire time he was here in this school. "Y'all have ten minutes within each battleground to score points."

"Battleground B…?" Izuku muttered to himself. "Is there a significance to each battleground? Maybe a different number of enemies? More area…? Hmm… I wonder…"

As Izuku continued to mutter to himself, another habit that, instead of vanishing due to need in Lordran, became even worse when in very noisy areas. He couldn't, after all, hear himself think with all the noise, so the muttering helped.

"But who am I kidding, y'all don't care where you fight, only who y'all be fightin'!" Present Mic hyped up his introductions to the things they were meant to butt heads with. "Presenting the 1, 2, and 3 pointers! You hate the name? Blame the R&D Department for it!"

Within an observation area made for the teachers, a shirtless hero wearing a giant excavator claw fashioned into a helmet had their eyebrows twitch at the remark.

"Each mock-villain, and yes, they are robots, so go nuts, will be harder to take down depending on the number of points they give, with 1 being the easiest and 3 being the hardest!" Present Mic was about to move onto the next part, only to be interrupted by a raised hand.

"Yes, examinee 7111, a question?" Present Mic pointed at the teen, and a giant spotlight hovered over him.

"Thank you, Present Mic sir, but if we take a look at the pamphlets given to us, there are clearly four mock-villains displayed." The teen with bluish-black hair raised the pamphlet and slapped it once, and then twice for good measure. "As the pinnacle of all Hero Schools, a mistake such as this is quite unsatisfactory for the students who will be walking these halls!"

"And YOU!" All of a sudden, the teen's eyes zeroed in on Izuku, who was, quite frankly, mumbling up a storm. "Stop mumbling! It is distracting your fellow test takers!"

Izuku's response was to clam his mouth shut and tilt his head at the teen, confused as to why he was called out.

"If you think U.A. is some sort of pleasure jaunt, then leave this place at one!" The teen glared at Izuku for a few seconds while some of the hopefuls began laughing.

"Woah, there, settle down, examinee 7111." Present Mic was quick to defuse the situation with a well-armed smile. "No need to be all serious; relax. Heroes also need some R&R from time to time."

At the hero's words, the teen calmed down a bit and was back to waiting for Present Mic's explanation as to why he didn't include the fourth mock-villain.

"As for your question, good eyes, little listener!" Present Mic clicked on the remote again, and the presentation moved onto the next slide. "This here is the fourth mock-villain, and it awards you zero points! Think of it as an obstacle to avoid."

"I see. Thank you for answering my questions, Present Mic sir." And with that, the issue was done, and the teen was back to sitting down.

"Now then, any other question? Any at all? Nothin'?" Present Mic waited for the crowd, but seeing no one raising a hand, Present Mic shrugged and continued. "So that concludes the rundown, but before you head on over to your designated battlegrounds, I'mma lay down a few ground rules. There will be no fighting with each other! We catch you smacking an examinee; you are instantly disqualified, ya hear me!"

The auditorium was still quiet, but most of the hopefuls nodded, not wanting to bomb their chance at the most prestigious hero school in Japan.

"With that said, allow me to share with you a saying. The great hero Napoleon Bonaparte said, 'True heroism consists in being superior to the ills of life.' Plus Ultra! Have fun suffering, everyone!"

With the rundown finished, Izuku moved to stand up, but he felt someone glaring at him. Using his perception, he scanned his surroundings, but with how many teens were bustling along the place, he couldn't see the person glaring at him.

Filing it for another time, Izuku shrugged and went with the flow, following the group of U.A. hopefuls on their way to Battleground B.

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"That's a huge city." Izuku noted as he stared at the big-ass gate that separated them from the mock-villains inside the battleground. As an intellectual—well, as intellectual as an insane asylum escapee could be—Izuku knew that this didn't come cheap. Which reminds him.

'I wonder if they accept souls as currency…' Izuku hummed as he mentally tallied the unallocated souls he still had within him. It was a lot, with most of the unique souls he had gotten from those of the likes of Artorias already used to create unique weaponry… Weaponry that was still with the likes of Trusty Patches…

"I need my gear back." Izuku mentally noted, even if it felt like an impossible task. But his big brain told him that it could be possible due to his being here. If that was the case, then Patches could also be transferred to this place, and if there was one thing Izuku knew about the fraud, it was that he was unbreakable.

As he was busy stewing in his thoughts, the hopefuls around him were already writing him off. Maybe because of his unassuming posture, what with him always having a slight slouch? Faster to roll forward that way anyway, in case of unexpected hazards.

Fuck that fire drake on the bridge. He had a blast turning its tail into a sword.

Or maybe they wrote him off due to the dressing down he got from that dark-blue-haired teen earlier, not that he knew why it was a criteria for people underestimating him.

'Might be a cultural thing.' Izuku hummed as he spied the gate slowly opening. Glancing around, he realized that the other hopefuls were so busy distracting each other with chatter that they didn't notice the big-ass gate opening quietly without even a single creak.

"AND START!" Present Mic's voice boomed across the area, with almost all of the hopefuls caught like deer in headlights.

At the signal, Izuku dashed forward, not paying any mind to the other hopefuls stuck like statues on a pedestal. As far as he was concerned, the moment he heard Present Mic yell, the test had already begun.

"What? There are no countdowns in real life! GO GO GO! That little listener has the right idea!" Present Mic gestured to Izuku, who was already at the gate, showing the rest of the hopefuls that another one of them already had a head start.

And like a dam burst open, a tidal wave of hopefuls scrambled towards the battleground, all of them not giving a fuck about each other, only racing for the entrance in hopes of scoring more points than the other hopefuls.

And since there weren't any ill-intentioned attacks, none of the proctors viewing the scene through monitors in their viewing room saw fit to disqualify some of the hopefuls.

While that was going on, Izuku blitzed through the streets and came upon a 1-pointer. Questioning whether to use his fists of Pyromancy, Izuku shrugged and rushed the mock-villain with his right fist cocked back.

"Hello!" Izuku's feral grin was the only thing the mock-villain saw before its entire fram was reduced to scrap metal. "Bye bye!"

Izuku huffed. So his fists were effective. Might as well keep on casting fists and rack up points for each shot against these mock-villains.

Heading into another street, Izuku spied three mock-villains, two 2-pointers, and a single 3-pointer.

Grinning, Izuku rushed forward, only to quickly sidestep when he felt his instincts scream at him. A moment later, something fast whizzed by him, impacting the concrete building just behind him.

'So, 2-pointers have range. How about the 3-pointer?' Izuku wondered, observing the trio of mock villains all the while. One of the 2-pointers had its hand focused on him, probably the one that shot at him, while the other 2-pointer was about to raise its hand against him too.

And then the 3-pointer's shoulders opened, and out came the missiles.

Izuku's eyes boggled at the sight and he scrambled to dodge every single one, each of the rapid missiles narrowly missing him and impacting the asphalt a few meters behind him.

And then; explosions.

"The fuck!?" Izuku gaped. "RAT GOD! Are you trying to kill your future students!?"

In the viewing room full of observing teachers, there was a meltdown going on as the teachers were raging about a 3-pointer made for third years was currently fighting against a U.A. applicant.

"Nezu! What have you done!?" One of them shrieked, her feminine voice feeling like nails scratching at a board.

"Indeed, principal. What is the meaning of this!?" A skeletal-looking man roared at the animal, not caring if blood was trickling down his chin at the minor exertion.

"Calm down, everyone." Nezu chided the teachers with a single wave of his paw. "As for why, think of it as an extra difficulty curve for the student who was exempt from the writing exam."

It was a flimsy excuse, one that could land them in hot water if this ever came to light, but knowing how the RAT GOD operated, none of them were too keen to provoke one of the deadliest beings on the planet.

They valued their lives, goddammit.

As this went on behind the scenes, Izuku was busy dealing with the missile-toting 3-pointer and, not surprisingly, was not having that much of a hard time. He'd take this over the two asshole Great Bow Silver Knights back in Anor Londo any day.

The day he shoved those two down to the depths of the great city below was a day to remember.

Sidestepping to the right, Izuku dodged a missile before rushing in head first. He then dove and slid, narrowly missing the hail of bullets—beanbag rounds, of course—and propping himself up quickly.

A few more meters left to the mock-villains, and Izuku had to dodge once more a missile barrage from the 3-pointer.

With another leap, Izuku reached for a nearby 2-pointer before he heard the gun in its hand rev up, just in time for it to begin shooting. Slapping the offending arm away, the beanbag rounds impacted the nearby 2-pointer, not really damaging it but enough to stall for time.

Enough time for Izuku to heft the 2-pointer and throw it against the remaining 2-pointer. Twitching, Izuku glanced at the 3-pointer and moved away from his spot at breakneck speeds.

A second later, the asphalt burst into a crater, debris of concrete littering the wide, empty streets, save for the pseudo-immortal teenager and the three mock-villains.

Grinning, Izuku dashed towards the 3-pointer, the mock-villain still in the midst of rearming its missile launchers. The result was a foregone conclusion, with Izuku grabbing the head of the 3-pointer and smashing it against the asphalt, the metal creaking and crumbling into shards and scrap.

One mock-villain done, Izuku swiftly turned to look at the remaining mock-villains, still sprawled over the ground like a couple playing twister. Grin still in place, Izuku leaped over and crushed the two mock-villains beneath his feet, shards of metal digging into his boots but otherwise bouncing off his bare skin.

"Ah, shit." Izuku clicked his tongue. "These were nice shoes… Note to self: don't do this again."

Rubbing the back of his head, Izuku's ear picked up movement towards an alley nearby, and once again, his feral grin returned.

"This is fun!"