Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The world Izuku came from was dead.

Once, long ago, it had been blue and green, bursting with life, rivers winding like silver veins through dense forests, mountains standing tall against an endless sky. But that was a memory long since buried beneath the choking smog that covered the sky. Earth had been stripped bare, reduced to a skeletal wasteland where nothing could grow, where the air itself had turned against its people, thick with poison and heavy with the weight of mankind’s sins.

The oceans were gray and parts had dried into cracked basins, rivers turned to dust. No birds flew overhead once there was no sky left for them to claim. The sun, once a golden beacon of warmth, was no more than a dull, sickly glow behind a curtain of gray clouds. Even the stars were nothing but a fairytale now, a whisper of light swallowed by the endless smog.

But humanity, ever relentless in their efforts to survive and prevail, refused to die alongside their world.

They had torn down their own paradise, clawed and bled it dry, and still they demanded more. When the Earth could give them nothing else, they turned their greedy eyes to the stars, searching and desperate for something new to conquer.

And they found it.

A planet, lightyears away, untouched and thriving.

A world so impossibly alive it made Earth’s final years seem like a long-forgotten nightmare. The air was clean, two large moons shone bright in the sky, the land was filled with creatures beyond their comprehension, and trees stretched higher than skyscrapers, roots so deep they seemed to touch the planet’s core. It was as if they had glimpsed at heaven itself.

And once mankind saw something they wanted, they took it.

They called the planet Androra.

A place of endless green, of wealth beyond measure, a world they could use. The air was nearly identical to Earth’s, the soil rich, the resources limitless.

To the desperate remnants of humanity, it was salvation.

Best of all, the planet was lucrative. Much like the value of gold on earth, Androra had rekalite, a valuable rock-like mineral found in the ground worth billions for a single piece. The robots brought it home and a solution was underway. It’s what fueled their expedition, paid for their transfer, helped them buy their way to a new world, a galaxy away.

Turns out, Androra was a five-year journey from Earth. A mere blink to them after cryo-sleep was created. The human body and mind were preserved in a sleep-like state, frozen in a chamber and kept safe until they were safe to be woken.

They didn’t age. They didn’t dream. 

To Izuku, falling asleep and waking up felt like it had been minutes apart.

But that didn’t get rid of the toll on their stiff bodies. It also didn’t hide the fact that they just traveled across the entire galaxy and couldn’t remember a single thing about it. Some people didn’t care, and to them sleeping the journey away was the best part. The promise of a new life in an alien world sounded a lot better than what they had back home. So a couple years of sleep to see this paradise? No problem. Except the real catcher is that only the ones deemed ‘useful’ got to journey to this new planet. Like the warnings themselves didn’t already scare everyone else away once they learned the truth.

Much to their dismay, and unfortunate let down, Androra was a very hostile world. 

It was a place of kill or be killed.

A totally shocking surprise to everyone, but the creatures and life there did not welcome humans with open arms. 

Anything that breathed, flew, climbed, and crawled out of the ground wanted to kill them. Soldiers were recruited, army dogs and marines that once fought for freedom, but out here they were just hired guns doing it for the money. Working for the company. 

Izuku wasn’t like those hardened soldiers. He’d never even held a gun in his life, much less prepared himself for such a journey, but his papers were impressive enough to get him out here. Izuku dedicated most of his life to finding answers on earth, to helping their own species in any way he could, but it turns out his expertise was needed out here. Light years away. 

This alien planet, for all its other dangers, had another very big problem.

A native species ruled this world, so human-like it was almost uncanny. Creatures who walked on two legs, breathed the same air, made up of generally the same structure, and stared at them with human eyes.

They were called Kin’on. 

Contrary to popular belief, they may look and walk like humans but they were as volatile as a desert storm and ruthless as the planet's other wildlife. Their bodies were enhanced in ways that made them stronger, faster, tougher. They climbed trees as well as spiders, used bows and arrows dipped in poison, hid and hunted like predators, and for all their magnificence, hated humans. 

For years the two species from opposing planets butted heads, long before Izuku came into this world. But in order to mine for rock on this planet, to find the very source of profit they came here for, the scientists wanted to study these creatures, these apex-humans, and try to form a symbiotic relationship. 

They tried to teach them their language, give them medicine and tools, but after years of work, the Kin’on’s trust was never swayed. 

And the conflict only got worse.

See, Izuku was a behavioral scientist. He knew how to study humans, their behaviors and traits, their tenacious ways of thinking that persisted for centuries, all rolled up in commonalities that could be predicted. But he knew almost nothing about the Kin’on. They may look human, but they were alien in every sense of the word. And yet somehow, the company brought him here, thinking he could contribute to their efforts to understand the natives.

They thought he could spark change. 

Izuku - a twenty-three-year-old from a small town in Japan, who spent his entire life as a recluse, reading books until the words were printed in his eyelids, a nobody - was supposed to do something great. 

Yeah, Izuku wasn’t so sure about that. But, unfortunately, he wasn't getting paid to disagree or actually voice his opinion at all. 

Hence why he was currently standing outside the director's office, sweating bullets so badly he was sure a small puddle was forming beneath his feet. 

“Come in.”

Izuku took a deep breath and pushed the door open. 

The director of this whole operation, Kai Chisaki, watched him as he stepped closer. This was the man who paid for him to come, the man who stood in front of the board and declared that Izuku was a scientist he wanted on his team. The big man himself asked for Izuku personally. 

If that didn’t strike fear in his very heart, he didn’t know what would. 

“Midoriya, I’m so glad to see you,” Kai greeted, smiling as he waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit. “I hope the journey treated you well.”

Izuku gave a weak grin and forced himself into the plastic chair, fiddling with his hands. He didn’t think it was important to mention how he threw up for three minutes straight after waking up, or how his left leg cramped so bad he needed to be wheeled around. Yeah, it’d be great if everyone could forget about that.

“Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

It truly was. Androra was beautiful. Breathtaking. 

After their ship landed, ignoring the wary looks the soldiers sent Izuku as he turned different shades of green, stepping into this new world was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The air was humid and warm, it felt wet and so very fresh, he nearly cried right then. 

Kai kept his welcoming smile, folding his hands over the desk. “I won’t take up too much of your time. As I’m sure you’re aware, you’ll have two sanctioned days to get properly settled on base. My assistant will show you to your barracks where you’ll be staying for the next four years. We have a system for rations and the charts will tell you—”

His words droned on and Izuku listened to every part of the mandatory briefing, but his heart couldn’t help but beat faster.

Four years. That’s how long it took them to get another ship ready for the journey back to Earth, which was another five years in cryo-sleep. New recruits and employees of the company were only brought out every four years per regulation. That’s how long he would be staying on this alien planet, if he lived long enough anyway. 

“Is that clear, Midoriya?”

He jolted in his seat, meeting the director's dark eyes. “Y-yes, sir! Crystal clear.”

“Good. Then welcome to the team.”

Izuku was given a badge for clearance and ushered out of the room. He was led around the base to the area where all the nerds were stuffed in like sardines, and where his new colleagues would be waiting for him. 

“Here we are,” the director's assistant told him as she pushed the door open.

The room was similar to a science lab. Equipment and microscopes were scattered along desks, wires traveled across the ground, a long table was in the center where they’d be having their meals, and their beds were in the next room over. The walls were gray and lifeless, but it would be his home for the next four years.

All that aside, Izuku took it in with a thorough glance, nearly missing the person that popped out in front of him.

“You’re finally here!” A girl with strange yellow eyes and pink hair was suddenly in his space, pinching his cheeks. “And you’re sooo cute! Nobody told me you’d be this—”

“Hatsume, unclench. It is out of conduct to treat a new coworker that way.”

The girl pouted and pulled back. Another figure stepped into view, a taller boy with blue hair and round glasses. “Pleasure to meet you,” he greeted. “I’m the head of this department. We’re very happy to—”

“Tenya! Where did you put my notebook? You said you’d—”

Another girl rounded the corner at full speed, her voice cutting off the second she spotted Izuku standing awkwardly in the doorway. She had short brown hair and soft round eyes, her expression shifting from annoyance to something closer to surprise. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.

“Oh! You must be—”

“—The newbie!”

Izuku barely had a second to react before something heavy was shoved into his arms, making him stumble forward. He yelped, hardly managing to keep his balance as he adjusted his grip on what looked like a bulky, metal contraption with tubes and wires sticking out from the sides.

The girl who’d thrown it at him, pink hair tied up in a messy ponytail, goggles pushed onto her forehead, grinned like she’d just handed him a sacred treasure.

“This is my new baby! I’ve been working on it for weeks, and you—” she gestured at Izuku excitedly, “—are the perfect assistant, newbie! It’s a fully automated turbo booster, check it out!”

Izuku blinked down at the hunk of machinery in his arms, utterly lost. “A…turbo booster?”

“Hatsume!” The taller guy with glasses chopped his hand through the air. “No testing your inventions on the new recruit!” 

Before the pink-haired girl could protest, the other girl stepped forward, exasperated, and forcefully pulled the machine out of Izuku’s arms, shoving it back into Hatsume’s.

“Guys, enough!” She gave them both a firm look. “You’re both acting ridiculous. This is not how we make a good first impression.”

For a moment, Izuku could only stand there, mind reeling from whatever just happened. He still hadn’t even stepped fully into the lab, and he’d already been ambushed by an excitable engineer, nearly knocked over by a machine he didn’t understand, and now he was watching his new colleagues get scolded. 

Oh man. Was it always going to be like this?

The girl, seeing his overwhelmed expression, took a breath and smiled. “I am so sorry about that. Sometimes they can get a little excited.”

Izuku quickly shook his head, trying to regain some composure. “N-no, it’s okay! I was just, um, well, it’s nice to meet you all. I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

The girl’s smile softened. “Nice to meet you, Midoriya,” she said and held out her hand. “I’m Ochako Uraraka.”

Tentatively, he shook it.

She gestured toward the others, pointing first at the girl still cradling the turbo booster like a proud mother. “The pink hair is Mei Hatsume, our tech specialist - basically she builds things, breaks them, and then builds them again.”

Hatsume beamed. “Usually better the second time!”

Uraraka gave her a dry look before moving on.

“And glasses here is Tenya Iida, our biologist. He’s also basically our walking rulebook, so if you have any questions about protocol, he’s your guy.”

Iida straightened. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Hatsume snorted, then muttered under her breath, “kill joy.”

Izuku let out a small, nervous laugh.

Despite the chaos of his introduction, something about them felt…welcoming. Different from the cold, clinical environment of the base outside this lab and the harsh gazes of the soldiers.

Uraraka clapped her hands together. “Alright!” She smiled. “Now that you’re officially introduced, let’s get you settled in. You’re gonna be spending a lot of time with us.”

Something about the way she said it made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he could settle in here just fine. 

^

The next few days were a blur of adjustments, information dumps, and serious sensory overload.

Androra wasn’t just different, it was completely overwhelming. The gravity was slightly lower than Earth’s, moving felt both lighter and clumsier at the same time. The air was thicker too, richer and filled with scents he couldn’t place. And the sounds, it was like forests outside their windows never stopped making noise.

Izuku spent hours with Iida and Uraraka, getting briefed on the planet’s wildlife when they were allowed outside. Some plants responded to touch, light, or even sound. Some were carnivorous, which Izuku found out the hard way when a seemingly harmless vine had lunged at him like a striking snake.

Uraraka laughed as she pulled him free. “Yeah, don’t stand too close to those.”

Izuku gave a faint nod, totally not going pale in the face. Oh god, a plant nearly just ate him! 

That was definitely among one the strangest things he’s experienced so far. When he wasn’t with the others, Hatsume often dragged him into her workshop of organized chaos, where unfinished gadgets and half-formed ideas were scattered across every surface.

“Alright, newbie,” she began, then started strapping some kind of weird gauntlet onto his wrist. “You’re gonna test something for me.”

Izuku blinked. “I am?”

Before he could protest, she pressed a button. The gauntlet whirred to life, then violently ejected something that launched him backward, and Izuku hit the ground with a loud smack. Like a bug on pavement.

“Aw, bummer,” Hatsume pouted, stepping closer to peer down at him. “This one still needs a little tweaking. The recoil is way too strong!”

Iida sighed from across the room, calling out, “Midoriya, I strongly advise against being her test subject.”

Izuku groaned from the floor. Too late.

^

Most days, Izuku was busy throwing himself into his work, or helping the others, trying to find a rhythm with his new team. Uraraka and Iida were patient guides, helping him learn the basics of navigating their base and the strange structure of life around them.

Hatsume, on the other hand, was most definitely chaotic energy personified. She sort of scared him. 

“Midoriya! Catch!”

Izuku barely had time to react before something metallic and buzzing hurtled toward him. He yelped, scrambling to grab it before it could hit the floor.

“O-oh no, what is this now?” Izuku stammered, turning the small device in his hands hesitantly, waiting for something to happen.

Hatsume grinned, goggles reflecting the neon-blue glow of Androra’s twilight. “It’s a mini-drone! Thought you could use it to track the Kin’on without getting your face punched in or shot up with arrows.”

Uraraka groaned from across the lab, setting aside a sample of bioluminescent moss. “Hatsume, for the last time, we are not spying on them.”

“It’s not spying, it’s observation. Science, baby!” Hatsume spun her wrench between her fingers. “Besides, Geeky McWeirdo’s got a whole journal full of Kin’on observations already. What’s the difference?”

“Hello, Geeky McWeirdo here,” Iida huffed and adjusted his glasses. “The difference is respecting their autonomy.”

This had become the new normal, Hatsume throwing wild ideas at them, Uraraka playing peacekeeper, and Iida lecturing them like the responsible scientist he was.

It wasn’t like Earth. But maybe that was a good thing.

Another thing Izuku was quick to discover was that the base they were stationed at was huge, built right in the middle of the forest, with acres of fallen trees and dirt surrounding them. It was a far cry from the polluted, crumbling cities Izuku had left behind. But looking out the window at the destruction and mines dug in the planet, it almost made him feel like he never left. 

One thing was for certain, humans really did destroy everything they touched. 

But still, nature persisted. The forest glowed, full of luminescent blues and purples, shifting like an ocean beneath their towering outpost. Izuku often found himself at the edge of the observation deck, staring at the distant creatures moving through the trees, wondering what their lives were like.

He spent hours with Uraraka and Iida, learning about the flora and fauna, cataloging the bizarre yet dazzling plant life. Some plants recoiled at touch, others sang when the wind passed through them. One, which Uraraka had affectionately named Mimosa Rex, would snap shut like a bear trap if you got too close. But having wisely learned from last time, Izuku kept a respectful distance. No snapping jaws would get him today! 

“You’re picking this up fast,” Uraraka said one evening, watching as him as he logged the data into his tablet.

Izuku smiled at her. “Guess it helps when everything is this fascinating.”

“Careful, Midoriya,” Uraraka winked. “You might actually start liking it here.”

Maybe he already did.

^

The cafeteria at the base wasn’t much to look at - cold metal walls, humming fluorescent lights, and the low murmur of conversation. Trays clattered against steel tables, soldiers and scientists eating their rations in tense silence or low chatter. Every so often, a soldier would walk by, rifle slung over their shoulder, the weight of it a quiet but constant reminder of what kind of place this really was.

Izuku found himself a little uneasy because of it.

He didn’t like the way the soldiers walked like they owned the place, how their conversations were filled with bored talks of security detail, clearance levels, and worst of all, contingency plans. He hated the way the researchers avoided their eyes, keeping their heads down as if not acknowledging the inevitable would stop it from happening.

Still, there were small pockets of normalcy. His team, at least, made things bearable.

“Pass the pepper, Four-Eyes.”

Iida scowled at Hatsume as he deliberately placed the pepper shaker out of her reach. “You consume an absurd amount of sodium as it is,” he lectured.

Uraraka snorted into her drink. “Let the lady have her salt. It’s not like it’s gonna kill her.”

“If anything will, it’ll be one of her gadgets,” Izuku chimed in, taking a bite of the questionable protein on his tray.

Hatsume grinned, unabashed. “Not my fault you’re the perfect test subject, Greenie.”

“Isn’t it, though?” 

Uraraka propped her chin in her hand. “Y’know, we’ve been working together for a while now, but I never got around to asking the question.” She turned to Hatsume first. “Why did you leave Earth?”

Hatsume didn’t hesitate to say, “The money.”

Iida sighed. “You could at least pretend that isn’t the main reason.”

“But it is the main reason,” she said, stuffing a bite of food into her mouth. “Do you have any idea how expensive it is to get funding for personal projects? I was drowning in debt before I even started inventing anything good. Now? I have all the resources I need.” She waved a hand. “And besides, Earth fucking sucks. No fresh air, no trees, nothing worth staying for.”

Izuku shifted uncomfortably at that.

Uraraka nodded, thoughtful. “Yeah…same.”

Hatsume raised a brow. “What, you were in debt too?” she asked.

Uraraka huffed a laugh. “No, but my parents were. They worked in agriculture, or what was left of it, but everything was privatized by the time I was old enough to understand how bad it was.” Her fingers toyed with the edge of her tray. “This place…it’s not great, but at least here, I can study plant life that isn’t dead. Maybe learn how to fix things before we completely run out of options back home.”

There was something heavy in her voice, something she didn’t say outright, but Izuku understood anyway.

Iida adjusted his glasses. “My reasons are less personal. My family has worked in government sectors for generations. I was raised with the belief that our duty is to serve, whether that be through law, science, or medicine.” He paused, a muscle in his jaw tightening. “But some days, I don’t know if I can believe in that anymore.”

Izuku watched the way his fingers curled against the table, the way his expression darkened. He didn’t ask what changed. He already knew.

Uraraka turned to him next. “What about you, Midoriya?” 

His first instinct was to say money.

But the words felt hollow, even as they hovered on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he hesitated. Why had he come here?

He wanted a better answer.

He needed one. 

^

The next morning, Izuku sat in front of hours upon hours of recorded footage. Some of it was new, aerial shots of older Kin’on clans moving through the jungle, silent, graceful, undisturbed. Other footage was older, from back when the base had still been a research facility, not a military operation.

The early days had been…different.

He watched grainy footage of Kin’on children sitting in human-built classrooms, learning English and other languages, laughing as they pointed to words on a board. He saw scientists and teachers sitting amongst them, exchanging knowledge instead of threats.

There had been peace once. The Kin’on had trusted them once.

And the humans had betrayed it.

Izuku swallowed hard, leaning closer to the screen. He watched as one of the Kin’on, a young child, traced the letters of her name on a chalkboard. A human instructor nodded encouragingly beside her, smiling. The footage cut to another scene. A year later, that same child stood in the forest, watching as soldiers burned her home to the ground.

Izuku turned the footage off.

He had his answer now. He wasn’t here for the money.

He was here to fix what was broken.

^

It was late at night when Izuku passed by the restricted section of the base. Most personnel had turned in for the night, but the low murmur of voices from inside the command center caught his attention. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop. But…

“We need to start forcing the natives' hand.”

Izuku froze, stopping himself before he took another step.

A deeper voice, a soldier’s voice, answered, “With all due respect, sir, we’ve tried negotiations. They’re not interested. Firepower might be the only way.”

A pause. Then, a slow, measured response. “Fear is always a strong motivator.”

Izuku’s stomach churned, only staying a few more minutes to hear the rest before he got caught. He backed away quietly, heart hammering as he took off down the hall.

“What do you mean, ‘force their hand’?” Uraraka asked, eyes wide.

Izuku had rushed back to the lab, finding his team still awake. Hatsume was tinkering with a mechanical exosuit, but at his words, even she looked up.

“I heard Kai talking,” Izuku responded, voice low. “They want the Kin’on to move. There’s some sort of lucrative mineral deposit right beneath where they live. If the clan won’t leave…they’ll make them.”

A heavy silence settled between them.

Iida exhaled sharply, adjusting his glasses in that rigid, controlled way he always did when he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Midoriya, unfortunately this isn’t too surprising. The people funding this mission don’t see the Kin’on as equals. They see them as obstacles.”

Izuku’s fists clenched. He hated that idea. Hated it.

This was the Kin’on’s home. Their land. Their whole planet. Humans had no right to take it from them, not like they had taken from Earth, destroying the very thing they could have saved.

“Then we have to do something,” Izuku said firmly. “We can’t just stand by and let this happen.”

Uraraka met his gaze, determined. “Then we don’t.”

For the first time since arriving, Izuku felt something stronger than uncertainty.

Purpose.

They had to stop this. He didn’t travel in cryo-sleep for five goddamn years just to sit by and watch some trigger happy goons wipe out life on another planet. He refused.

^

Izuku stood in the pristine white-walled office, the scent of sterilized air filling his nose as he faced Director Kai. 

The desk between them gleamed under the artificial light, a stark contrast to the planet’s untamed wilderness beyond these walls. On the large screen behind Kai, a map of the Kin’on territory flickered with shifting data - thermal readings, topographical scans, movement trackers - none of which had yielded any new information for weeks.

Kai was watching him, fingers steepled together, his expression unreadable. “You want to leave the base?”

Izuku swallowed and forced himself to nod. “Yes, sir.”

The director leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “And why, exactly, do you think that’s a good idea?” he challenged.

Izuku stood firm. “We’ve been collecting data remotely for weeks, but we’re not making any real progress. If we want to understand the Kin’on, if we want any chance of reestablishing contact with them, we have to go out there.”

Kai’s gaze sharpened. “It’s quite clear they want nothing to do with us. Why should we bother anymore?”

“We have to,” Izuku insisted, pulse hammering in his ears so loud it made him sick. “If I can find them, I might be able to talk to them about leaving their home. I know you’re after something on their land, but I urge you to think more rationally before you wipe out an entire civilization, sir.”

Kai looked rather annoyed to hear this. His dark eyes bore into Izuku long enough to make him squirm. “You’re quite persuasive for a scientist, Midoriya,” he bit out. “I’ll give you that.”

Izuku clasped his hands behind his back before the director could notice them shaking. “Trust me, sir. It’s worth a shot. If that fails, at the very least we’ll learn how they move, how they evade us, where they’re living. We need to know more about them, and I’m sure anything will help. It’s important to have this data for our future as well as theirs.”

Please let this work. 

Kai was silent for a long moment, studying him. Then, with a great big sigh, said, “This is reckless. Never something I expected to hear out of your mouth, so you’ll excuse my hesitation.”

Izuku braced himself for rejection.

“…But it’s why I brought you here in the first place.”

“So…is that a yes?”

“You can go,” Kai clarified. “But take your team. I don’t pay them just to sit around here all day and dissect plants. And you’ll need a pilot. I expect a full report by sundown.”

Izuku let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, sir.”

Kai waved a hand in dismissal, already turning back to his screen. “Get out of my office before I change my mind,” he snapped.

Izuku didn’t need to be told twice. He left in a hurry and got right to work. 

It turns out, finding someone willing to fly deep into Kin’on territory was no easy task. Most pilots weren’t interested in flying into an area where they might be shot out of the sky by arrows.

But then, out of the blue, they found him.

Shouto Todoroki leaned casually against the aircraft, adjusting his gloves, his expression unreadable and cold. His military grade uniform was slightly unzipped at the top, the red and white strands of his hair falling over his mismatched eyes. He looked younger than most of the other pilots, but something about him felt far more experienced.

“So, let me get this straight,” Shouto said flatly, arms crossed. “You want me to fly you deep into the most dangerous part of the forest so you can look for the natives?”

Izuku nodded. “Yes.”

“You do realize they hate us, right?”

“I’m well aware.”

Shouto exhaled through his nose, giving him a long, considering look before shaking his head. “For a group of people so smart, you guys sure are eager to get yourselves killed.”

Izuku wasn’t sure how to interpret that answer. “Um, Todoroki, does that mean—”

“Meet me at Hangar Bay Six at dawn.”

“Really? That’s it?” Uraraka asked, raising a brow.

Shouto shrugged, turning toward the cockpit. “I don’t get paid enough to argue.”

“O-oh, okay!” Izuku exchanged a glance with his team, stepping back cautiously. “See you then.”

Shouto paused, glancing over his shoulder, and didn’t say another word. 

^

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and fuel as the blades of the helicopter began to spin. 

The low whump-whump-whump of the rotors sent vibrations through the metal beneath Izuku’s feet, and he swallowed thickly, gripping his harness a little too tight as he buckled himself in. The others were already secured, adjusting their gear and chatting quietly over the hum of the engine. Uraraka was double-checking their supply packs, Iida was meticulously adjusting the straps of his harness for optimal safety, and Hatsume was fiddling with one of her latest gadgets, muttering excitedly under her breath.

Once she was finished, Uraraka turned to him and immediately frowned. “Uh, you okay?” she asked.

Izuku felt his face heat up at her concerned look. He forced a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”

Hatsume looked up at that, eyes narrowing in amusement. “Wait, are you nervous?”

Izuku sighed, shifting in his seat. “I just…” he cleared his throat. “Don’t do well with heights.”

There was a brief pause before Hatsume let out a loud, amused laugh. “Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Izuku tilted his head back against the seat as Uraraka gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Midoriya. Just don’t look down.”

“Right,” he muttered.

Iida, ever the logical one, took it upon himself to offer a solution. “A common method to counter unease during flight is to distract oneself. Perhaps engaging in conversation will—”

“Iida,” Izuku interrupted. “I appreciate it, thanks, but I should be okay.”

The pilot’s voice crackled over the headset, cutting through their chatter. “We’re all set. Buckle in.”

Shouto’s tone was as monotone as it could get, and there was an edge of boredom laced into his words, like he’d rather be anywhere else. Izuku turned to glance toward the cockpit, where Shouto sat lazily, one hand on the control stick, looking utterly unbothered.

Izuku took a slow breath. It’s fine.

Everything is fine.

The helicopter shuddered as it lifted off the ground, and Izuku felt his stomach lurch.

Uraraka squeezed his arm. “Breathe,” she coaxed.

He exhaled and the ground fell away beneath them. Once they reached the edge of the flattened, concrete base site, the tall trees stretched out before them, vast and endless, an ocean of green rolling over the land like waves.

Soon enough, Izuku forgot all about his nerves.

He pressed closer to the window, his eyes wide in awe. The view was breathtaking. The endless emerald canopy shimmered under the morning sun, streaks of gold filtering through the mist that curled around the massive trunks. Rivers slithered through the jungle like veins of silver, glistening under the sky. 

It was stunning.

It was alive.

And Izuku felt something deep in his chest, a longing, a quiet ache. He’d spent so long in sterile laboratories, surrounded by cold metal and lifeless walls. The sight of so much green, so much life, filled a part of him he hadn’t realized was empty.

Uraraka chuckled softly beside him. “Enjoying yourself now?”

Izuku turned to her, a bright grin stretching across his face. “Yeah.”

Hatsume smirked. “Guess you are one of the lucky ones.”

Lucky.

His fingers pressed against the glass.

He was practically glued to the window as the land stretched out beneath them in an endless sea of life. Uraraka laughed. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

Izuku grinned. “Can you blame me? It’s incredible.”

“It is rather breathtaking,” Iida admitted, peering out to get a look. 

Hatsume stretched in her seat. “Eh, you get used to it.”

Izuku turned towards the cockpit where Shouto was, effortlessly piloting the craft, his expression unreadable. “What about you? Do you think it’s beautiful?”

Shouto glanced at him briefly, then turned back to the controls. “It’s nice.”

Izuku frowned but didn’t press further.

After an hour of flight, Shouto found a clearing large enough to land. The aircraft descended, the trees swaying violently from the thrusters before settling onto the soft earth. As the engines powered down, Shouto unstrapped himself and leaned back to say, “I’ll stay with the ship. Try not to die.”

Izuku felt a chill at the way he said that, but nodded anyway.

As they stepped outside, the air was thick and humid, filled with the sounds of wildlife.

Hatsume pulled out her heat-signature scanner, grinning. “Alrighty, kids. Time to put my baby to the test. If enough Kin’on or critters are nearby, we’ll know!”

Iida and Uraraka quickly got to work collecting more plant samples for their research. Meanwhile, Izuku followed Hatsume further into the forest, nerves creeping up his spine.

“You think they’ll actually show up?” he asked, voice hushed.

Hatsume grinned. “Oh yeah,” she said. “They’re probably watching us right now.”

Izuku almost stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. “Really?”

“For sure! They know this forest better than we ever could.” She gestured at the towering trees. “If they want to stay hidden, they will.”

Izuku swallowed hard. He scanned the dense foliage, half-expecting glowing eyes to be staring back at him. Instead, the dense leaves and plants opened up the longer they walked, shining in the sun. It was peaceful, and he was sure he could spend hours wandering aimlessly in this new world. 

It was certainly a far cry from the wasteland they left behind. 

For the next several days, Izuku and his team ventured out into the wilderness, determined to find any sign of the Kin’on. Each morning, Shouto flew them out to a different part of the dense, sprawling rainforest, and each evening, they returned to base with nothing but data on plant life and other wildlife movements.

No matter how far they trekked, how carefully they combed through the trees, the Kin’on remained ghosts.

Izuku refused to give up.

Each time he stepped off the helicopter, he was filled with the same mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Surely, today would be the day. Today, they would find something - a footprint, a discarded arrow, a fleeting shadow in the canopy. But the forest stretched on, wide and unrelenting, swallowing them whole without leaving so much as a whisper of the people who lived among it.

They were hiding. Watching, probably. But not revealing themselves.

And every night, as they flew back to base, Izuku’s hope chipped away, bit by bit.

^

Day five started much the same. Izuku crouched in the underbrush, carefully brushing aside a cluster of leaves. His fingers hovered over the faint compression in the soil - a footprint. Nearly the same size as his own, with deep-set toes and an arch too distinct to be anything but Kin’on. His breath caught.

“I found something,” he called out.

The others hurried over. Uraraka knelt beside him, eyes widening. “Oh wow! That’s definitely a Kin’on print, it’s gotta be.”

Iida adjusted his glasses, his expression a mixture of relief and cautious optimism. “That means they’ve been here. Recently.”

Hatsume scanned the area with her heat detector. “Nothing right now,” she announced, “but if they passed through here once, they might come back.”

Izuku studied the direction of the footprint. It led deeper into the trees. His heart pounded.

They were close.

He straightened, glancing at his team. “Let's follow it.”

They moved quietly, stepping carefully to avoid snapping twigs or disturbing the undergrowth. The further they went, the thicker the jungle became, vines curling around massive tree trunks, the canopy above blotting out the sky. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and alien flora.

Izuku’s heart pounded with each step. Any second now, they might find—

A sharp sound cut through the air before an arrow suddenly embedded itself into the ground inches from his foot.

Izuku froze, biting back a frankly embarrassing scream. 

Uraraka let out a sharp gasp, covering her mouth to stop a shout. Then, before any of them could blink, another arrow struck the tree beside them.

“Everyone, move!” Izuku shouted, grabbing Uraraka’s wrist and pulling her behind cover.

The others dove for cover as well. For a few tense seconds, it was completely silent. Izuku swallowed, peering out from behind the tree. His heart pounded as his eyes scanned the dense foliage, searching for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

No figures. No rustling in the trees. Just the faint hum of the forest, completely undisturbed.

Iida’s voice was hushed. “That…might have been a warning.”

“A pretty persuasive one,” Hatsume grumbled.

Izuku exhaled shakily. “They know we’re here.”

Uraraka’s grip on his arm tightened. “True and they didn’t try to kill us either. Good, right?” Her voice was shaky. 

Izuku’s pulse was roaring in his ears. They hadn’t been aiming at him. They’d been aiming near him.

It was a warning. A clear message.

He bit his lip, his chest tight with a mix of emotions. They saw him.

And still, they did not answer his call.

^

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh rain as Izuku wandered around, his boots sinking slightly into the soft foliage and moss with each step. 

It was day eight and they wandered through new land. The trees and plants stretched around them, vast and untamed, the towering trees forming a canopy that filtered the light into dappled patterns across the forest floor. The distant calls of creatures echoed through the trees, blending with the rustling of leaves and the faint hum of insects. Blue winged lemurs swung from the vines, pausing to stare at them. 

Him and his team moved with more purpose today. The last excursion had been tentative, uncertain, but now…now there was a quiet resolve in their steps.

As usual, Shouto had opted to stay behind with the ship.

“Don’t get yourselves killed,” he deadpanned, ever the encourager. He leaned back against the hull, arms crossed, watching them disappear into the jungle with the same bored expression as always.

Izuku and Hatsume led the way, pushing through the thick vines and underbrush as they had so many times now. Hatsume had her heat signature scanner out, waving it in slow, methodical sweeps. The device emitted a soft beep every few seconds, though so far, it had picked up nothing beyond the local creatures.

“This thing should be able to detect anything warm-blooded within fifty meters,” Hatsume said, adjusting the dials. “Of course, if they’re using some kind of body paint it might make it harder to pick them up.”

Izuku hummed, glancing around warily. The idea that the Kin’on might be watching them right now still sent a shiver down his spine. They were treading a delicate line. If they weren’t careful, they could easily end up on the wrong side of a sharpened arrow again.

“Do you think they’re avoiding us?” Izuku asked.

Hatsume shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”

Fair point.

A few feet behind them, Iida and Uraraka had settled near the roots of a massive tree, setting out their lab equipment to collect fresher samples. Iida worked with precision, carefully sealing the specimens into small glass vials, while Uraraka compared the samples to their digital database, making quiet notes of excitement.

“This soil composition is fascinating,” Iida murmured, turning one of the samples in his gloved hand. “It’s rich in minerals that don’t even exist on Earth.”

Uraraka nodded, tapping a few notes into her tablet. “Some of these plants have compounds we’ve never classified before. If we can analyze them, who knows what we might discover?”

Izuku smiled faintly, watching them work.

This - this kind of discovery, of understanding - was what he had wanted. Not war. Not conflict. He turned his gaze back toward the jungle. Please…just let us find them before it’s too late.

Hatsume nudged him. “Hey,” she called. “Don’t space out too much.”

Izuku shook himself, blinking. “I-I’m not.”

She grinned. “Liar.”

Izuku huffed but didn’t argue. Unknowing of the eyes staring down at them. 

Hours quickly passed since they landed, and the jungle heat was starting to wear on them. They hadn’t come across anything yet, no signs of the Kin’on, no more arrows in the trees, nothing but the endless stretch of towering foliage and the distant cries of creatures unseen. The tension from the morning had faded into a dull, lingering anticipation.

When they reached a small creek, shaded by the arching roots of a massive tree, Iida suggested they take a break. None of them argued.

The water was clear, rippling softly over smooth stones, reflecting beams of golden sunlight that managed to slip past the dense canopy above. Izuku crouched near the edge, splashing his face with the cool water, sighing as the heat eased from his skin. 

Behind him, Uraraka had already pulled out their food packs, passing them around.

“Alright,” she said cheerfully, unwrapping her sandwich. “Eat up!”

Izuku plopped down beside her, pulling out his own food. The moment was peaceful, quiet, except for the bubbling creek and the rustling of leaves and insects chirping in the breeze.

He allowed himself to relax, just for a second.

“I’m just saying,” Hatsume’s voice cut through the calm, “if you’re gonna put something on a sandwich, peanut butter and pickles is totally valid.”

Iida, who had just taken a sip of his water, choked. “Excuse me?”

Uraraka snorted mid-bite, while Izuku barely held back a laugh.

Hatsume shrugged, completely unbothered. “It’s the perfect balance of salty, sweet, and tangy.”

“That’s—” Iida set his water bottle down, eyes wide with disbelief. “That’s heinous. Absolutely heinous.”

“It’s innovation.”

“It’s criminal!”

Izuku finally burst into laughter, shaking his head. “I’ve never heard of anyone eating that.”

“Bet you haven’t even tried it.”

“Because I respect my taste buds,” Iida shot back.

Uraraka leaned toward Hatsume, grinning. “Wait, wait, what else do you eat on sandwiches?”

Hatsume perked up, counting on her fingers. “Let’s see…peanut butter and pickles, obviously, but also mayonnaise and banana—”

Iida recoiled. “Stop.”

“—oh, and hot sauce with jelly!”

Uraraka snorted. “That’s actually impressive. And totally gross.”

Iida looked genuinely distressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is why we, as a species, have lost our way.”

“Okay, okay!” Izuku chuckled. “Let’s just finish eating before Iida has an existential crisis.”

Iida exhaled sharply but nodded. Hatsume, however, grinned like she had just won something.

The conversation shifted after that, the argument fading into laughter and teasing as they finished their food. It wasn’t much, just a short peaceful moment, but Izuku found himself grateful for it. Out here, surrounded by the unknown, it was nice to just be still for a little while.

Even if Hatsume’s food choices were deeply, deeply questionable.

Izuku popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, brushing the crumbs off his hands as he stood. The meal had been a nice break - filled with laughter, ridiculous debates, and a much-needed moment of ease in an otherwise tense search. But the sun was starting to sink lower in the sky, casting longer shadows through the thick canopy. If they wanted to make it back before dark, they’d need to pack up soon.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom really quick,” Izuku announced, stretching his arms over his head.

Uraraka waved him off with a grin. “Don’t get lost!”

“I’ll be fine,” he called back, already stepping through the rocks and plants.

The forest was quieter away from the creek, the bubbling of the water fading as Izuku walked deeper into the trees. The air was still humid, thick with the scent of moss and rich soil. The soft crunch of leaves and twigs beneath his boots was the only sound aside from the distant, muffled chatter of his friends.

He found a small clearing and decided to linger for a moment. To just…breathe.

With a sigh, he sat down on a fallen log, leaning back and closing his eyes.

The forest had a certain rhythm to it. A steady, pulsing life that never quite stopped. Even when he closed his eyes, he could feel it, the rustling leaves in the light breeze, the chirps and hums of creatures, the warmth of the sun pressing against his skin.

For a moment, he allowed himself to just be.

It was nice for all of one minute, until he heard it. Small enough to go nearly unnoticed, a rustle in the bushes, just beyond where he sat. Izuku’s eyes snapped open, his body immediately tensing. That definitely wasn’t the wind.

It was footsteps. 

Something was watching him.

His heart pounded as he turned toward the noise, straining to see through the thick undergrowth. He swallowed, forcing his voice steady.

“H-hello?”

No answer. Just silence. Then he heard a low, guttural hiss.

Izuku froze. The blood in his veins turned to ice as a massive, black head poked through the leaves. Sleek, muscular, with gleaming fangs and two piercing yellow eyes that locked onto him with terrifying intensity.

A thanator.

Panic slammed into him like a freight train.

This was bad.

Thanators were apex predators, and they weren’t just dangerous - they were fast. There was no outrunning it. For a second, neither of them moved. The beast’s lips peeled back, revealing rows of dagger-like teeth, and it let out a deep, menacing snarl.

Izuku lost all sense of calm and bolted.

Pure instinct took over as he spun on his heel, adrenaline launching him forward. His feet slammed against the jungle floor as he tore through the underbrush, branches whipping at his arms and legs.

“GUYS!” he screamed, breath coming in ragged gasps. “RUN!”

The others looked up just in time to see him burst through the bushes, wide-eyed and frantic.

“What—”

A thunderous roar shattered the air. The thanator exploded from the undergrowth behind him, all muscle and lethal grace, bounding forward with terrifying speed.

“Holy mother hubbard.” Hatsume’s eyes went wide.

Iida shot to his feet. “We need to go, now!” 

“WE CAN’T OUTRUN THAT!” Uraraka hissed, fists clenched in terror.

Izuku didn’t stop running. “We have to try!”

Hatsume fumbled in her pocket, pulling out a small metallic device. “No worries! I’ve got something for this!” She flicked a switch. A bright flash erupted from the gadget, sending out a burst of sound and light. The thanator skidded to a halt, shaking its massive feline head with an irritated growl.

Hatsume laughed, smug. “Ha-ha! My beautiful babies win aga—”

The beast snarled and prowled closer anyway.

“Oh.” Hatsume blinked. “That’s unfortunate.”

“MOVE!” Izuku shouted, grabbing her arm and yanking her forward.

Iida, already processing a strategy, pointed toward the beaten path they marked. “We need to make it back to the helicopter!”

“We’ll never make it in time!” Uraraka cried.

Izuku’s mind raced. They had seconds to decide. If they stayed together, the thanator would tear through them all at once. But if they—

“We split up!” he yelled. “It can’t chase us all at once!”

“Are you insane—”

“Do you have a better plan!?”

The thanator let out a deafening roar, muscles coiling to strike.

Uraraka cursed. “Fine! Fine! Go!”

With no time left, they scattered. Izuku veered left, leaping over a fallen log. Uraraka sprinted in the opposite direction, using the trees for cover. Iida bolted straight ahead, his powerful legs carrying him faster than any of them. Hatsume…sort of just ran for her life, laughing nervously.

“THIS IS NOT WHAT I PLANNED FOR TODAY!” she yelled.

Izuku didn’t dare look back. He just sprinted.

His lungs burned. His heartbeat roared in his ears. Somewhere behind him, the thanator slammed into a tree, its massive bulk crashing through the underbrush, snapping branches like twigs.

The helicopter. They just needed to get back to the helicopter.

If they could survive that long.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His breath burned in his chest. His legs ached, his heart slammed against his ribs, and sweat dripped down his temple as he ran for his life.

The trees blurred around him, a chaotic mess of vibrant green and thick undergrowth, but he couldn’t afford to slow down. He dodged a fallen tree, his boots skidding in the damp soil, barely keeping his balance. Thick roots threatened to trip him, but he leaped over them, adrenaline the only thing keeping him moving.

A thunderous impact shook the ground behind him. A deep, guttural snarl ripped through the trees. The sound of six powerful legs pounding against the earth.

Izuku risked a glance over his shoulder, almost wishing he hadn’t.

The thanator was right there.

Its muscular body moved with terrifying grace, its sleek black skin blending into the shadows as it closed the distance. Its six sets of razor-sharp claws dug into the earth with each stride, propelling it forward like a nightmare given form. And its yellow eyes were locked onto him.

Izuku’s stomach dropped. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding—!”

He cursed loudly, pushing himself harder, but he already knew the truth—he wasn’t fast enough. The thanator was built for this. Every inch of its body was designed for the hunt, for killing anything foolish enough to be in its territory. And right now, that was him. A slow human. 

Izuku ducked under a thick branch, barely avoiding a tangle of vines. The pounding paws and talons behind him grew louder, closer, the beast’s powerful limbs carrying it over obstacles with terrifying ease. His breath came in short, desperate gasps.

He could almost feel the heat of its breath against his back. He gave a desperate burst of speed, but it wasn’t enough.

The thanator leaped.

Izuku threw himself forward at the last second, sliding on his side beneath a massive tangle of tree roots. The beast’s jaws snapped shut just inches from his face. The sheer force of its bite sent splinters flying, its long claws raking through the wood, desperately trying to dig him out.

Izuku scrambled backward, panting, his hands shaking as he pressed himself against the damp earth.

He was trapped.

The beast let out a deep growl, its yellow eyes burning with predatory rage. It was playing with him. It knew he had nowhere to go. Izuku’s pulse roared in his ears. His mind raced, searching for a way out. He had seconds before it tore through the roots and ripped him apart. 

Think, think, think!

Its mouth was the closest to him. That was his only shot.

Izuku shifted his weight, drawing his leg up and kicked as hard as he could, slamming his boot into the thanator’s snout. The beast reeled back, letting out a furious snarl.

Izuku didn’t waste a second. He launched himself forward, diving through the roots on the side, shoving his way through the gaps before the thanator could recover.

And then, he ran.

Blind, desperate, and absolutely terrified out of his freaking mind.

The sound of the thanator crashing through the undergrowth sent fresh terror racing through his veins. It was still coming. He needed an exit. The trees were too thick to climb, he’d never make it high enough before it caught him. He couldn’t keep running forever.

That’s when he heard it, the sound of rushing water.

Izuku’s eyes snapped forward. Just ahead there was a sharp drop-off, a cliff. The river must be below, fast-moving, deep, and violent. It better be, unless this was all some sick cosmic joke—

But there wasn’t time to think. Izuku ran harder, the thanator’s roar splitting the air behind him. 

Ten meters.

The ground trembled as the thanator closed in.

Five meters.

Izuku’s lungs burned. 

Two meters.

Right as the thanator’s claw swiped out, Izuku jumped. For a moment, time stretched. The air rushed past him, his stomach plummeting as he freefell toward the river below.

Hitting the water felt a lot like bursting through concrete. A brutal, freezing impact, slamming the air from his lungs.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

The current grabbed him, dragging him under, spinning him in a chaotic whirlpool of churning water. He fought against it, kicking and twisting as his lungs screamed for air. His fingers scrambled for anything, and then, a tree root. His hand latched on, his grip tight, desperate. His head broke the surface, and he sucked in a ragged, gasping breath.

Above him, the thanator stood at the cliff’s edge, its roar vibrating through the trees, yellow eyes blazing with frustration.

Izuku shook, his body aching, his heartbeat a wild, frantic drumbeat in his chest. He let out a shaky breath, chest rising and falling as he hung there, the river raging against him. For a long moment, he just stared up at the furious beast above him. A laugh bubbled up in his chest. A breathless, disbelieving laugh.

He survived. 

Something brushed by his foot and Izuku yelped, climbing out of the water like a man possessed. He crawled forward until he reached solid ground again, coughing water from his lungs and nose.

He groaned and fell onto his back, gasping.

Gotta go. Gotta keep moving. Not safe.

But dammit, couldn’t he get a second of peace?

^

Izuku sat on a smooth rock near the riverbank, wringing out his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. 

The fabric was still damp, but at least it wasn’t dripping anymore. His boots were another problem entirely. Water squelched with every step, and his socks clung uncomfortably to his feet. He had peeled them off earlier, laying them across a flat stone to dry under the sun, but now that the light had faded beyond the cliff, they were just cold and clammy instead of soaked.

Not that it mattered. Izuku had bigger problems.

He was alone.

For the last few hours, he thought about trying to make his way back, pushing through the jungle, retracing whatever steps he could remember. But it was pointless. 

He had no idea where he was. He had run so far, so blindly during the chase that he had no hope of following his original path. And with the sun now dipping below the horizon, casting the forest into deep shades of blue and violet, any remaining landmarks he might’ve recognized were lost to the dark.

He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves, but the panic had settled deep in his bones.

The others weren’t coming for him.

They probably thought he was dead - eaten by that damn thanator, torn apart before he could even scream. And even if they were looking for him, Kai had one strict rule: No one was allowed out after sundown.

Which meant Izuku was well and truly on his own.

His fingers tightened around the small pocket knife at his belt. It was a pitiful thing, barely bigger than his palm, and definitely not a weapon that could take down anything in this forest. But it was the only thing he had. Around him, the forest was eerily silent. It was an unnatural, suffocating stillness that came only when something dangerous had passed through. The kind of quiet that made every muscle in his body coil with unease, telling him that he wasn’t safe yet.

Izuku wrapped his arms around himself, taking a slow breath as he tried to steady his nerves. The jungle at night was even deadlier than during the day.

No human had ever been stranded out here and lived to tell the tale. But Izuku wasn’t going to just give up. 

“Only need to make it to morning,” he whispered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, trying to convince himself as much as anything.

They would come for him. They had to. Tomorrow.

Izuku had to survive until then.

The sun was already dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in smears of deep crimson and violet, shadows stretching long across the trees and ground. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the lingering exhaustion.

He had to move. Staying here made him a sitting target.

But where was he even supposed to go?

The forest stretched endlessly in all directions, thick with towering trees and massive, twisted vines, the ground littered with glowing plants that pulsed faintly in the deepening twilight. Every path looked the same, all a maze with no exit.

Still, he had to try.

Izuku pushed forward, stepping carefully over a tangle of thick roots, trying not to disturb anything. The last thing he needed was to accidentally brush against something venomous. Everything here could kill him if he wasn’t careful. Every sound made his heart leap into his throat, the distant rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig beneath his boot, the whisper of creatures slithering through the undergrowth.

The deeper he went, the more alive everything became.

Glowing spores drifted lazily through the air, pulsing faintly like dying embers. Strange, twisted flowers unfurled as the last rays of sunlight faded, their petals shimmering with a bright bioluminescent glow. In the distance, something let out a deep, guttural croak, followed by the soft flutter of massive wings.

Izuku swallowed, his grip tightening on his pocketknife.

He was walking into the unknown. He had no idea what was out here, what was watching him from the shadows.

But he couldn’t stop.

He pressed on, weaving his way through the dense foliage, the plants glowing brighter with each passing minute. It wasn’t long before the last sliver of daylight disappeared entirely. Izuku hadn’t realized how different it would feel, how the energy would shift the moment night fully settled in.

During the day, it was breathtaking. Vast and unpredictable.

But now?

Now it felt like something was lurking behind every tree. The silence from earlier was gone. Now, the forest was humming with noise - the distant screeches, the rustling of leaves too high to be the wind, the clicking of tiny, hidden things scuttling just beyond his vision.

His breath hitched when a soft, glowing tendril curled around his wrist. Izuku jerked away instantly, nearly stumbling over a root in the process. His heart slammed against his ribs as he turned sharply, half-expecting some massive creature to be staring back at him.

But no.

It was just a plant. A strange, luminous vine, gently swaying as if reacting to his presence.

He let out a slow, unsteady breath, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Get it together, Izuku!

You can’t afford to lose it now.

He took a careful step back, giving the vine plenty of space before continuing.

The ground was damp beneath his boots, the air thick and heavy with the scent of moss and unfamiliar flowers. He had no way of knowing if he was going in circles or actually making progress. At this point, it didn’t matter. All he could do was keep moving.

He wasn’t sure how long he walked, maybe an hour, maybe longer. His legs were beginning to ache, exhaustion pressing heavy against his bones, but he refused to stop. Stopping meant giving up and that wasn’t an option. Still, he needed to find somewhere safe to rest. Just for a little while. But there was no such thing as “safe” out here. That thought sent a fresh wave of unease crawling up his spine.

Izuku shook it off, squinting through the darkness, searching for something, anything, that looked even remotely secure.

Then just ahead, he spotted it.

A large, twisted tree with massive, gnarled roots curling into a natural hollow, almost like a small cave. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he was going to find.

He hurried toward it, stepping over the glowing fungi dotting the ground, careful not to disturb anything that might take offense to his presence. Once inside the hollow, he crouched down, exhaling a shaky breath as he pressed his back against the cool bark.

It was darker now, the only light coming from the faint glow of the plants and trees beyond. Izuku shifted, adjusting his position, his body aching from the day’s ordeal. His fingers were still trembling, his heart refusing to slow, but at least for now he was out of the open. He knew better than to fully relax.

He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t.

Instead, he listened.

The forest whispered around him, creatures calling to each other in the distance, leaves rustling with unseen movement. Every so often, he’d hear something large shift through the undergrowth, and his breath would catch, body going still until the sound faded away.

Time blurred as the night stretched on, long and unforgiving. Izuku held on, gripping his knife, forcing himself to stay alert. He just had to last until morning.

The others would come back for him.

They had to.

The thin blade was held in his right hand, tight and ready, though he knew it wouldn’t do him much good. He couldn’t afford to think beyond that. Couldn’t worry about tomorrow, about food, about how in the hell he was going to find his way back.

Survive the night.

That was the only thing that mattered. 

He flinched when he heard a low, distant howl. Izuku’s blood ran cold. His breath caught in his throat, and his muscles tensed, heart pounding so loud he swore it echoed through the trees. Another howl joined the first. Then another. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Something had followed him. Izuku inhaled slowly, steadying himself, preparing.

I just need to survive the night.

But the forest had other plans. 

^

Izuku ran.

He ran like a bat out of hell, pushing his body past its limits, lungs burning with every ragged gasp of air. His feet barely touched the damp forest floor before he was propelling himself forward again, dodging low-hanging branches, jumping over thick roots that jutted out like grasping fingers, trying to pull him down.

And behind him, they ran too. He could hear them closing in. 

The snapping of teeth, the scraping of claws, the sickeningly gleeful yips and cackles as the creatures toyed with him. He cursed under his breath, pushing harder, faster, even as the muscles in his legs screamed in protest. The air was thick and humid, weighing him down like heavy chains, sweat trickling down his temples, stinging his eyes.

The hound-like creatures were right at his feet, nipping and biting at his heels, spurring him on, and he hissed when a claw caught his skin. 

Oh god, oh god, I’m going to die—

Izuku suddenly tripped over something and came crashing to the ground, rolling and shouting when roots and rocks scraped against his body. He righted himself, brushing away the pain and held his knife out with a shaky hand as the creatures surrounded him, snarling and growling at their next meal. 

He shot his arm out when one got too close, cutting its flesh as it yelped and cowered back. He swirled in a circle, panting as he eyed each one, daring them to make a move. 

Come on. Come on!

Izuku was growing desperate, the creatures were yipping like hyenas, somehow laughing at his pathetic attempt to defend himself and one finally went for the kill. 

He screamed as claws dug into his back, the creature getting the drop on him, forcing him to the ground.

Izuku rolled out and sliced through the air with his knife in any direction he could until teeth were suddenly inches from his face and he held the beast away before its fangs could tear him up. 

With his other hand, he brought the knife up and shoved it in the creature's chest, not wasting time rolling it off him as he braced for more. The circle they made around him was getting smaller and smaller, their teeth and claws getting closer and closer as they lunged in and he made a pathetic swipe to force them back. Izuku could feel the night air whisper against the slashes on his back and he crouched low so he could swivel around quicker when they tried to pounce. 

Their howls got louder. They were taunting him. Closing in. At this rate he wasn’t going to—

A sudden sound broke his concentration and Izuku turned towards the noise, eyes wide as an animal, no - a man, suddenly descended from the trees. 

Izuku felt his breath stutter and stop. 

The hound creatures whirled on the newcomer, snarling, poised and ready, but even they were too slow. 

The man had a bow in his hand, pulled back and aimed, and in the blink of an eye, two arrows were shot out, piercing the flesh of the hounds closest to him. He advanced with a snarl of his own as the creatures lunged, smacking them away with his bow like they were mere bugs. 

They howled in pain, running around as he chased them, growling and swinging with the intent to kill. The man suddenly had a large knife poised in his hand, flipping it and slicing through flesh as they got too close and he picked them off one by one. 

Izuku fell to his butt, startled as the few ravenous creatures left alive were chased away and then piercing red eyes were trained on him. They seemed to glow in the dark and for a split second, he felt as though he was about to be killed next. 

The person stepped closer, and even in the dark, the glowing jungle around them illuminated him enough to see. 

It was a Kin’on in the very flesh.

He stalked closer without a word and Izuku was too exhausted to move, too stunned to look away. 

The man had spiky ash blonde hair, and he was slightly taller, built like a warrior in every sense. Thin earrings dangling from his ears, a cloth was draped around his shoulders with sewn-in designs. A leather-like material was wrapped around both his forearms. The clothing covering his legs and waist was dark and patterned, almost like animal hide. 

His feet and lower chest were bare, but the strength was obvious. This Kin’on oozed danger, looked stern enough to snap a tree with just his gaze alone and he was…he was…suddenly right in front of him—

Izuku skidded back in shock, too caught up in his musing to realize the man had crouched down at his feet. The air suddenly lost all warmth as those piercing red eyes stared right into his very soul and Izuku felt a gasp escape his throat. 

The creatures trying to eat him may be gone, but the real danger was far from over. 

Izuku swallowed hard, hands trembling as he pushed himself back slowly, unable to tear his gaze away.

Those eyes weren’t just watching him, they were assessing him. Like a hunter deciding whether or not to strike. The Kin’on stared, tilting his head as he examined Izuku with a similar piercing interest, and their eyes were caught in a battle. 

That is, until Izuku opened his big dumb mouth, stuttering out a small, “Thank you.”

The man narrowed his eyes and stood, stepping away, and the moment was over.

Izuku startled and forced his body to move so as not to be left behind. The man ripped his arrows from the corpses and picked his bow up from off the ground, sheathing his knife in the band across his chest. The pace he moved was quick, purposeful, and Izuku stumbled after him. 

“Wait! I-I just wanted to say thanks for saving me from those things. If you hadn’t come, I probably would have—”

Izuku wasn’t paying attention. He was so desperate to catch up that he didn’t notice the man stop and turn until Izuku collided with his chest. He bounced back and blinked in surprise.

“S-sorry! I didn’t—”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Izuku froze, looking up into those red eyes, blinking as he tried to understand what was just said. “You…can understand me?”

The man looked at him like he was stupid and stepped forward, forcing Izuku back a step. His lip curled, baring his pointed canines. “Go. Back.” 

He pushed Izuku’s shoulder with the tip of his bow, with enough force he nearly stumbled away. 

Izuku, however, was not one to back down so easily, especially after this hellish night. He was stunned, bewildered, flabbergasted. This went beyond anything he’s ever learned! A Kin’on was standing in front of, speaking in words he could understand, and if this wasn’t the most groundbreaking moment of his life, then maybe it was all just a dream. But the pain in his back said otherwise and Izuku knew what he needed to do, hoping that this wouldn't get him killed. 

“I can’t.”

His words made the man pause, he slowly turned back around to stare at him, scowling. 

“I can’t go back,” Izuku said again, trying not to shrink under his intense gaze. “I need your help.” 

A sharp scoff. “Your kind cannot be helped.”

Uh oh. This was…less than ideal. The Kin’on still detested humans, how could he ever forget? He couldn’t just demand help and assume it would be given, not for someone like him. But what other choice did he have?

“Please.”

Those red eyes widened a fraction, the look was gone a second later but Izuku saw it anyway and it gave him the courage to step closer. “I mean, look at me,” he gestured down to himself, bruised and battered, his clothes ripped, “I won’t survive out here on my own.”

It was bold to assume any Kin’on would care if he survived or not. 

The man growled, low and angry. “Then you should not be here. Your people are weak. They’re meant to die.”

“Then…” Izuku swallowed thickly, stepping closer. “Then why save me?”

They blinked at each other. The man stopped growling and fell quiet, looking at Izuku from head to toe, from his stretched out hands and his shriveled posture. To the blood on his clothes and the sad excuse of a human he made. He probably saw a lot of those. But there was something in his eyes, something not as hardened or as threatening as the rest of him, a glimpse of mercy. 

“…Why save you…” 

“Yeah. Why save me? Why not let those things eat me if you hate my kind so much?”

The man’s hand clenched around his bow, so hard his knuckles went white, but he made no move to leave, no move to attack him or push him away. Izuku breathed as quietly as he could, hoping not to seem too distracting as the blonde fought over something in his head, glaring at him. 

“Deku,” he snapped. “You’re a deku, that is why.”

“H-huh?”

“A stupid boy,” the man spat. “Screaming and running around like a child. Deku.”

“M-me?” Izuku squeaked, eyes wide. Wait, was this guy calling him stupid? 

For a long, way too drawn-out moment, the blonde said nothing else. His jaw clenched so hard Izuku swore he could hear his teeth grind together. Then, finally, he exhaled sharply through his nose and his gaze flicked over Izuku in obvious disdain. But something had changed. The fire behind his eyes had dimmed, just a fraction, and the sharp tension in his shoulders loosened as he took a slow step back.

He muttered something in words Izuku couldn’t understand before jerking his head, as if to dismiss him.

“Go back,” he ordered. “You don’t belong here.”

Izuku opened his mouth, ready to argue, when suddenly the air around them shifted.

A hush fell over the forest.

The sounds of distant creatures and buzzing faded, swallowed by a strange, weightless silence. Then, from the corner of his eye, Izuku saw them - floating down from the canopy like drifting snowflakes. White, translucent, glowing ever so softly.

Izuku flinched back as one of the strange, jellyfish-like creatures hovered closer, barely the size of his palm. Its short thin tendrils reaching out toward him.

His first instinct was to swat it away, and he did, starting as more of them swirled down from the sky, encircling him.

The blonde moved so fast Izuku barely had time to react.

A strong, calloused hand clamped around his wrist, forcing his arms down. A warning growl rumbled in the man’s throat, low and dangerous.

“Kehe! Don't touch.”

Izuku froze and stared at him with wide eyes. “What are—”

“Be still.”

More of the floating creatures descended, their movements slow, deliberate, almost hypnotic. They danced around him, brushing against his arms, his face, settling over his skin as if testing his very being. He held his breath, body rigid. The warmth of them was barely there, featherlight, harmless, and yet the sheer number of them, the way they swarmed him, sent a shiver down his spine.

Izuku’s gaze snapped to the man, forcing his eyes up. “What’s happening?” he begged.

The blonde didn’t answer. He just stared.

For the first time, the sharpness in his expression had melted into something unreadable, something awestruck, maybe even reverent. His lips parted slightly, a hushed whisper slipping through them.

“Atokirina…”

Izuku frowned. “Huh?”

“The seeds of the great tree,” the blonde murmured. “Very pure spirits.” His eyes flicked over the dozens of tiny glowing creatures surrounding him. 

Izuku swallowed hard, resisting the urge to move as the little iridescent things continued to float around him. He had no idea what that meant, but the man looked shaken. Then, all at once, they scattered. Like little whispers of wind, they lifted from his skin and ascended back into the sky, vanishing into the treetops and branches as quickly as they had come.

Izuku let out a long breath, feeling his lungs burn. He turned to the blonde, searching for some kind of explanation. “So…what does that mean?”

The man didn’t answer. He only stared at him for another long moment, face unreadable, before suddenly stepping forward and grabbing his arm.

Izuku startled at the touch. “H-Hey—!”

“Follow,” the blonde commanded. His grip was firm, leaving no room for argument.

And without another word, he pulled Izuku into the depths of the glowing forest. He breathed out a relieved sigh, but that was quickly stolen from him when the man suddenly took off running. “Wait!” 

“Follow,” he repeated, not waiting for him to catch up.  

Izuku pushed his weary body as fast as it would go, but he was foolish to think he could ever keep up with a Kin’on. The man moved like a leopard, jumping and dodging fallen trees, moving as swift and quiet as air. It was a sight to see and Izuku had to catch himself a few times, forcing his gaze back to his feet so he could see where he was going. 

The forest around them was glowing under the dark. The special bioluminescent chemical that sprouted from the plants and creatures shined a bright purple and blue. 

Now that he wasn’t fearing for his life, Izuku found himself smiling as he passed by. 

Even since he was a child there had been such little green in his world. Such little life. It was almost overwhelming here, such beauty in every corner and under every stone. He wanted to see it all, stare for hours at something so simple, but it was something his kind had killed with their carelessness. 

Something his world would probably never see again. 

Izuku slowed to a stop when he realized he lost sight of the man. The forest around him was quiet except for the constant buzz and chirps of bug-like species, but the feeling that something was watching him never went away.

Panic tightened in his gut. 

“Hello?” he called out, growing nervous when nothing but only the sounds of the forest answered him back. 

Crap. How had he messed this up already?

Izuku let out a breath, trying to calm himself as he jogged ahead, hoping to see if there were any trails that’d point him in the direction the man went. But as soon as he stepped under a large log, something poked his shoulder and he shrieked, whirling around with his hands up, only to realize he stupidly left his knife back where he had fallen.

Izuku had his fists raised, ready…to do what exactly? He wasn’t sure, but when he looked back there was nothing behind him. 

Fearing the worst, he risked a glance up. 

The blonde was perched on the moss covered log, crouched low, peering down at him. Dare he say, looking quite amused. Izuku let out a small wheeze in relief and dropped his hands, slumping to try and stop the racing of his heart. It felt like the muscle was about to leap right out of his chest. He heard the man jump down and saw feet suddenly enter his vision. Izuku froze and looked back up.

The blonde was staring at him again, like he couldn’t quite figure him out. 

“You are slow,” he blurted.

“Well I…um…y-you’re too fast.”

The man used his other hand and poked Izuku in the forehead, making him wince. “You’re slow. Slow are quick to die here.”

Oh god. “I would like not to die, actually! Maybe you could tell me where we’re going—”

But before he could answer, the man danced around him and started moving again, forcing Izuku to chase after. But he didn’t get far. As soon as he was a good foot from the blonde’s back, something caught his feet and he fell. 

The man turned back around, startled, but Izuku didn’t have time to process much before the vibration of feet pounding on the ground forced him to look up. Three horse-like creatures came out from the forest, heading straight for them, and Izuku only barely managed to suppress a scream. The man above him hardly moved and it made sense why. 

Other Kin’on were sitting atop the six-legged creatures. Dressed in similar clothes, weapons drawn, faces tense and ready, and their sharp arrows were pointed right at Izuku. 

He felt all the blood drain from his face.

He looked up to the man for help, but he was already stepping in front of him, speaking to them in a harsh manner, the words sounding brash and strange.

However, with a shared look among the riders, they soon lowered their weapons, bowing their heads to the man. Izuku felt his eyes widen, but he was suddenly pulled up from the ground and the blonde was looking at him again, rolling his eyes in a way that said you’re hopeless. 

Izuku flushed and straightened out his clothes as he placed onto his feet, taking note of the three new sets of eyes now trained on him. With a wave of his hand and a short word of dismissal, the man waved the riders away and they turned, kicking their horse-like creatures, shouting and hollering as they rode off back into the distance. 

Izuku flinched when a strong hand grabbed his arm and the man pulled him along, saying again, “Come.”

And it wasn’t a suggestion.

They followed after the riders, cutting through the forest. 

Izuku did his best to ignore the way his body throbbed, the ache in his feet only got worse after moving at such a brutal pace for so long. The blonde seemed more inclined to slow down for him, glancing back to make sure he followed. Izuku felt his heart thump at such a simple gesture, but it was the kindest thing he experienced out here so far. 

Lucky enough, he was quick to guess where they were heading. It was almost unreal to see it in person, the pictures and maps certainly didn’t do it justice, and he felt his feet slow when the gigantic tree came into sight as they broke from the forest. 

It was…impossibly huge. Taller than any skyscraper back on his world.

Bigger than anything he’s ever seen before, stretching so high into the sky he thought the tips of the branches could touch the stars. 

Izuku knew his jaw had dropped open, accompanied by the sound of a low snort from beside him, and he startled at the noise, moving his gaze to the blonde who was smirking at him again. Izuku felt his cheeks pinken, but the man urged him forward, toward the sound of pounding drums and many voices. At the base of the tree, its large roots swirled and curved above the ground, seemingly forming doorways and allowing a glimpse at the life inside. 

Holy shit.

His eyes felt like they’d bulge out of his very skull when nearly a hundred Kin’on faces stared at him as he was escorted into the tree. 

They had torches lit with fire for light, forming pathways that went farther into the center. Izuku tried not to flinch when hands reached out and touched his arms, nails biting at his skin, picking at his clothes, their mouths forming words he couldn’t understand.

The blonde was a constant presence at his back, pushing him forward, and Izuku realized quickly that there were others following along beside him. They didn’t stare or steal glances, they stood tall as if they were bodyguards clearing them a path through the crowd. Eventually, they reached the middle of the tree, a spiral of roots went up straight through the center, explaining how they were able to move up and down so easily, it was a staircase. 

But that wasn’t what made Izuku panic. 

No, it was the throne ahead of him, a wall that looked to be made out of bone. Human bone? Oh god. 

A man stood in front of all the others, dressed in intricate clothing so any fool could figure out he was their leader. He had brown hair and soft eyes, but Izuku wasn’t convinced anyone here meant to treat him kindly. 

These were Kin’on. They hunted humans for sport these days. They were the apex predators. And Izuku was just thrown right into the lion’s den. 

“Tìfnu!” The leaders voice rose once they passed the last ring of spectators. 

The Kin’on’s voices grew quiet, obviously a command to silence their curious chatter, but he could still feel the weight of their gazes. Izuku stood rigid as the blonde stepped around him and towards the leader. He watched, entranced, as the blonde pressed two fingers to his forehead in greeting, bowing his head.

The leader did the same and stepped forward. 

Izuku tried to keep a brave face when he approached, noticing the others at the leaders back grown tense. The leader was a whole head taller than him, his eyes narrowed as he studied his face before and he turned to the blonde. 

“Tupe tsat’lu?” The leader said and glanced back at him. Izuku guessed that he might be asking, who is this? But from the chuckles around them, probably in a less kind way.

The blonde answered, straightening up as he looked over at Izuku. “Tawtute. Nì'aw po tìng kìre slä'iyu.” 

The leader's brown eyes trailed over Izuku, making him feel like a bug under a microscope, or a sheep getting dressed up to be their next dinner. The other two went back and forth like that, talking and answering, until it was clear the blonde grew annoyed and threw his hands up in frustration, looking away with a scowl.

Izuku flinched and the leader backed away, moving to talk to the others. He finally summoned enough courage to whisper to the man beside him, “What is he saying?”

The blonde looked over at him, annoyed. “My father is deciding whether or not to kill you.”

“Y-your father?”

Kill me?! 

But before Izuku could kneel over in shock, a louder voice echoed from above, silencing them all.

“Fayvrrtep fìtsenge lu kxanì!”

A woman descended from the spiral staircase carved from the very roots of the great tree, twisting downward like a woven braid. Every step the she took was deliberate, controlled, yet powerful, like a lioness descending from her throne. Her crimson eyes locked onto Izuku with such piercing intensity that he felt like she could see straight through him - down to his very weak human bones. 

His head swiveled between her and the blonde beside him, startled by their shocking similarities. He watched as the leader bowed his head to her in greeting, but she strode past him and stood in front of Izuku, staring long enough that he forced himself not to fidget. 

The space around them seemed to tighten, to the point that he was pretty sure it was getting harder to breathe.

The gathered Kin’on watched in hushed expectation, some shifting restlessly while others whispered amongst themselves. Their curiosity and distrust pressed down on Izuku like a physical weight, but he forced himself to stand tall, resisting the urge to cower.

Up close, the woman was striking. She wore layers of intricately beaded cloth draped over strong shoulders, her form adorned with markings that gleamed in the low light. A leader. A warrior. Someone with power.

And everyone around them knew it.

Her gaze flicked over him, slow and scrutinizing, before she finally spoke.

“What are you called?”

Her accent was thick, her voice steady and commanding, each syllable sharp and deliberate. Izuku’s heart stuttered, relieved yet wary. She spoke his language too.

He answered quickly, “My name is Izuku.”

A hum of acknowledgment rumbled in her throat. Then, before he could react, she reached out, grasping his chin between her fingers. Izuku barely held back a flinch. Her grip was firm, nails pressing into his skin as she tilted his head from side to side, studying him like he was some odd specimen brought before her. Well, he was technically an alien from another world.

Her expression remained unreadable. Then her eyes narrowed.

“Why did you come to us?” she demanded.

The whispers behind him grew louder. He didn’t dare turn, but he could feel their eyes boring into him, could hear the uncertainty in their hushed voices.

Izuku swallowed thickly, pulse thrumming in his ears. He couldn’t back down now.

“I came to learn,” he said, voice steady despite the way his nerves roiled beneath his skin.

He let his gaze flicker back toward the blonde beside him. He didn’t know why - maybe for reassurance, maybe just to confirm he was still there. But what startled him wasn’t that the man was looking at him.

It was how.

Because those crimson eyes, so full of fire and fury before, were watching him now with something unreadable. Something quiet. Something that made Izuku’s breath catch in his throat. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

The blonde woman scoffed, drawing his attention back. “We have tried to teach all the skypeople, but you cannot teach those who cannot see. They are slow. Quick to die.”

“So I’ve been told,” Izuku muttered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of the blonde’s mouth twitch. 

The woman eyed him, her gaze unflinching. “Will you be quick to die, I-zuku?”

“N-No.” He shook his head firmly, forcing his spine to straighten. “I’m not like the others. I was a, uh, scientist in my…clan. A smart one. I taught them many things.”

The woman made a small noise of approval and touched the top of his head. He winced. “We’ve not had many smart ones before. Most act like my son,” she gestured to the man beside them, “They think they know all.”

The blonde scoffed, and Izuku fought a smile. 

“I have decided,” the woman announced and stepped away, shaking her hands in the air. The whispers went quiet with anticipation. “This I-zuku will stay with us and learn. Then we will see if his…insanity can be cured. Tawtute ‘i’awn!”

Izuku released a breath of relief, ignoring the loudness of the people behind him. The woman stepped away and moved towards the brown-haired leader, who merely shook his head like this was no surprise. 

“‘Itan,” she called back to the blonde beside Izuku. “You will teach this boy to speak and walk as we do. Show him our ways.”

He growled in protest, stepping forward. “Sa’nok, kehe!”

She waved her hand, silencing him. “Oe tiftxey, ‘itan.”

It was clear her son was not excited to teach Izuku anything, let alone have to put up with him for any longer. He pouted like a scolded child, growling under his breath. Izuku turned to him with a faint smile, but the blonde only scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

The brown-haired leader addressed the others. “Nari a'vay!"

The crowd yipped and hollered with excitement. Though a few of them seemed disappointed to hear that he would keep breathing. 

“Follow me,” the blonde grunted and Izuku nodded, quick to get away from all the prying eyes and heavy gazes. It wasn’t until shortly after that he realized the gravity of what exactly he was getting himself into.