Quirkless Mastermind

𝗖𝟮𝟮:𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

Anger, envy and wonder. These three emotions were the pinnacle of what everyone around me felt at that moment.

My eyes darted to the timer, glaring in red, counting down mercilessly. Just 13 minutes remained. We had squandered enough time already, and the pressure was mounting. The arena was a battlefield of chaos, shrouded in clouds of dust, but I couldn't afford to hesitate.

I broke off from my teammates and rushed heaadfirst, which wasn't part of any plan. I had different goals from the start and I would bring them to fruition.

My senses were heightened, every fiber of my being alert as I scanned the tumultuous scene before me. The rattled teams moved like scattered ants, their cohesion shattered by the relentless pursuit of victory. I needed to act swiftly and decisively. My eyes locked onto the flashes of red bandanas, the markers of my targets. However, caution tempered my haste; I knew better than to engage teams whose quirks could be a liability to me.

In the Whiteroom, I had meticulously studied every conceivable quirk, analyzing their strengths and vulnerabilities. This relentless preparation had become my shield, an automatic safeguard against any potential threat. The countless hours spent understanding the intricacies of each quirk had honed my ability to counter them with precision.This knowledge that now guided my movements, an invisible armour against the unpredictable nature of the quirks I faced.

I propelled myself forward, my mind a whirl of calculations. The dust cloud obscured my vision, but I navigated through it with the confidence born from rigorous training. The cacophony of the arena receded into the background as my focus sharpened. Each step was deliberate, quiet and i each movement was purposeful. There was a vine quirk in our midst. If I stepped on anything even remotely sketchy I would be shot up in the sky and grappled by the quirk. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, sharpening my reflexes and heightening my awareness.

As I advanced, I could see the desperation in the blurred eyes of my competitors. They, too, were feeling the weight of the ticking clock, the pressure to secure their positions. But unlike them, I had an edge. My experiences in the Whiteroom had taught me to remain calm under duress, to think clearly and act decisively. It was this composure that set me apart. They were immature, but they would grow. I wonder however, Once they do grow, would these strategies work against them?

Never in a million years.

Starting off with Tsuyu's team, who carried a total of 420 points, was my target. Their quirks had enough negative impacts from the dust to make them a primary focus. Tsuyu's skin is highly allergic to dust and pollen. Given her frog-like traits, her skin is more porous than others, making the swirling dust in the arena her enemy.

I zeroed in on Shouji, who had unfortunately duplicated his eyes, thinking it was a strategic advantage. However, it was quite the opposite. The dust had rendered his extra eyes useless, blinding him instead. This miscalculation made their team vulnerable, and I was ready to exploit it.

I leapt toward Shouji. His multiple hands, which were intended to shield Mineta and Tsuyu like a protective chamber, were now my stepping stones. I launched myself upward, my legs striking his arms aside as I ascended. Each movement was calculated, efficient. I reached the narrow slit at the top, my target clear. Without hesitation, I shoved my hand into the gap, feeling the soft fabric of the bandana.

In a swift, fluid motion, I yanked the bandana off Tsuyu's head. Her eyes widened in shock, but there was no time for her to react. The points were now mine. I landed gracefully, the bandana clutched tightly in my fist. The crowd's roar was a distant murmur in my ears as I refocused on my next objective. The countdown continued, and I was far from finished.