"They're just kids, Tony," Steve's voice conveyed his concern over the comm link. "Teenagers."
"Kids who can generate ice, fire, explosions, and super-strength," Tony countered, repulsors blasting through another cluster of Chitauri. "Not exactly your average high school baseball team."
"They mentioned a school—U.A. High in Japan. Never heard of it."
"JARVIS, run a search," Tony instructed.
"No matches found, sir," came the AI's response seconds later. "No educational institution matching that description exists in current databases."
Tony frowned inside his helmet. "That's... odd."
"They believe they're 'heroes-in-training,'" Steve continued. "Their techniques are coordinated, professional. Whatever they are, they've had training."
"Maybe they're from one of Fury's junior programs he never bothered to tell us about," Natasha suggested, skepticism evident in her tone.
"Or from Asgard," Thor added as he landed nearby, dispatching aliens with sweeping blows from Mjolnir. "Though they do not fight with our methods."
"Whoever they are," Clint cut in pragmatically, "they're on our side and effective. I say we worry about their origin story after we close that portal."
"Agreed," Steve responded. "But keep an eye on them. Especially the explosive one. He seems... volatile."
"That's putting it mildly," Tony muttered, having witnessed several of Bakugo's more aggressive encounters. "Kid's got a temper that makes me look zen."
******
Midoriya, Bakugo, and Todoroki had established an effective rhythm, clearing blocks of Chitauri while shepherding civilians toward evacuation points. They'd encountered more of the other heroes briefly—a red-haired woman with extraordinary combat skills but seemingly no powers; an archer whose precision rivaled Snipe-sensei; a massive blonde wielding a hammer that controlled lightning.
Each encounter reinforced Midoriya's growing suspicion that wherever they were, it wasn't simply a matter of geographical displacement.
"Their quirks are different," he muttered during a brief pause in fighting, jotting notes in his slightly singed notebook. "More specialized, less diverse in application. And some don't seem to have quirks at all, just advanced technology or training."
"Maybe they're later-generation quirk users," Todoroki suggested, cooling his overheated left side with his right. "More refined but less varied."
"Or maybe," Bakugo said with unusual thoughtfulness, "they don't call them quirks here at all."
That simple observation hit Midoriya like a thunderbolt. Of course—terminology differences would be expected across cultures, but the reactions they'd received suggested more fundamental disparities. The lack of recognition at U.A.'s name, the confusion at their ages relative to their abilities...
"I think," Midoriya said slowly, the implications dawning on him, "we might be in a different world entirely. Not just a different country."
Todoroki's expression remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed consideration of this theory. "The villain's quirk was space-warping. Dimensional displacement isn't impossible."
Bakugo scoffed, but it lacked conviction. "Fucking amazing. Stuck in some alternate universe with discount heroes."
"They're not discount anything," Midoriya countered, watching the red and gold armored figure—Iron Man, he'd heard someone call him—execute a complex aerial maneuver to draw fire away from civilians. "They're just... different. A different system."
Before they could discuss further, a new type of alien craft—larger, more heavily armored—rounded the corner. On its deck stood what appeared to be a commanding officer, its armor more elaborate than the foot soldiers they'd encountered thus far.
"That one's mine," Bakugo declared, palms already sparking.
"Wait, Kacchan!" Midoriya called. "We should coordin—"
But Bakugo was already launching himself skyward, propelled by precisely controlled explosions. His trajectory was perfect, arcing toward the command craft with speed that would have made it nearly impossible to track—for human eyes.
The Chitauri commander, however, anticipated the attack. It raised a staff weapon, energy gathering at its tip.
"Bakugo!" Todoroki shouted, already sending an ice ramp upward to intercept him.
Too late. The energy weapon discharged, not at Bakugo directly but at a building facade above his trajectory. Debris rained down, disrupting his flight path. One particularly large chunk struck him mid-air, sending him plummeting toward the street below.
Midoriya moved instantly, One For All surging through his body as he calculated the intercept point. He leaped, green lightning trailing behind him as he pushed his quirk to 30%—further than he typically dared, feeling the familiar strain in his muscles that warned of potential injury.
He caught Bakugo twenty feet above the ground, momentum carrying them both through the plate glass window of an office building. They rolled across carpet strewn with abandoned desk supplies, coming to rest against a cubicle wall.
"Get off me, Deku!" Bakugo snarled, shoving him away despite a grimace of pain that suggested injured ribs.
"Are you okay, Kacchan?" Midoriya asked, ignoring the hostility out of long practice.
"I'm fine," Bakugo said dismissively, struggling to his feet. His right arm hung at an awkward angle—dislocated shoulder, Midoriya recognized with concern. "Where's Half-and-Half?"
A massive ice structure answered that question, forming outside the shattered window. Todoroki had engaged the command craft, alternating between ice attacks to slow its movement and concentrated fire blasts aimed at its engines.
But he was outnumbered. Chitauri foot soldiers converged on his position, forcing him to divide his attention between offense and defense.
"We need to help him," Midoriya said, already moving toward the window.
"No shit," Bakugo growled, following despite his injury. He paused at the window frame, assessing his dislocated shoulder with clinical detachment. "Hey, Deku."
"Yeah?"
"Fix this." He gestured to his shoulder.
Midoriya blinked in surprise. Bakugo asking for help was unprecedented. "A-are you sure? I'm not Recovery Girl, I could make it worse—"
"Just do it," Bakugo snapped, though without his usual venom. "I've seen Recovery Girl fix this before. Quick rotation and push."
Midoriya swallowed hard but nodded. He positioned himself behind Bakugo, placing one hand on his friend's shoulder blade and gripping the arm with the other.
"On three," he said, trying to project confidence he didn't feel. "One—"
He moved on "one," rotating the arm and pushing the joint back into its socket with a sickening pop. Bakugo let out a string of curses that would have made Present Mic blush, but the shoulder was back in place.
"You said on three, you lying bastard!" Bakugo hissed through clenched teeth.
"S-sorry! Recovery Girl always says it hurts less if you're not tensed up waiting for it," Midoriya explained hurriedly.
Bakugo rolled his shoulder experimentally, wincing but satisfied. "Whatever. Let's go save Half-and-Half's ass."
Together they leaped back into the fray, Midoriya leading with a Full Cowling-enhanced jump while Bakugo followed with more controlled explosions than usual, favoring his injured side.
Todoroki had created a formidable defensive position, alternating hemispheres of ice and walls of flame to keep the Chitauri at bay. But sustaining both sides of his quirk simultaneously for so long was taking its toll—his movements were slower, his breathing labored.
"Incoming!" Midoriya called in warning as he descended toward Todoroki's position, leg extended in a devastating kick that cleared a path through the aliens surrounding his friend.
"About time," Todoroki managed, the ghost of a smile touching his lips despite his exhaustion.
Bakugo landed on Todoroki's other side, forming a triangle formation that had become second nature during their training. "Don't get comfortable, Half-and-Half. We're not done yet."
The Chitauri command vessel hovered above them, its pilot gesturing orders to ground forces that were regrouping for another assault.
"I can't reach it from here," Todoroki admitted, frost forming on his right side from overuse. "And my left is nearly depleted."
Midoriya analyzed the situation rapidly, eyes darting between the vessel, their positions, and the structural integrity of surrounding buildings. A plan formed—risky, but with their combined abilities, possible.
"Kacchan, can you still do your Howitzer Impact?" he asked.
Bakugo flexed his injured shoulder, determination overpowering pain. "Of course I can, nerd. Who do you think I am?"
"Good. Todoroki-kun, I need an ice ramp—there," Midoriya pointed to the optimal angle. "Just enough for momentum, don't strain yourself."
Todoroki nodded, understanding the plan without further explanation. With precise control, he created an ice formation that curved upward toward the command vessel.
"I'll draw their fire," Midoriya continued. "Kacchan, when I give the signal, you launch from the ramp. Full power."
"Don't tell me what to do," Bakugo growled, but he moved into position without further complaint.
Midoriya took a deep breath, channeling One For All through his entire body. The familiar green lightning crackled more intensely as he pushed to 35%—beyond his safe limit, but necessary for the speed he needed.
"Now!" he shouted, launching himself directly toward the command vessel in a frontal approach.
As expected, the commander immediately directed all fire toward this obvious threat. Energy blasts tracked Midoriya as he zigzagged through the air, each leap and mid-air direction change calculated to draw attention away from his friends below.
One blast grazed his leg, searing pain shooting through his calf, but he maintained his aerial dance. "Kacchan, now!" he called, seeing the perfect opening as the vessel's weapons tracked him exclusively.
Bakugo launched from Todoroki's ice ramp, his body spinning rapidly as he ascended toward the underside of the command craft—its unprotected belly now exposed as its weapons tracked Midoriya.
"HOWITZER IMPACT!" Bakugo roared, unleashing a massive explosion directly against the vessel's propulsion system.
The effect was immediate and devastating. The craft lurched sideways, its engines failing as secondary explosions rippled across its surface. The commander staggered, losing balance as the deck tilted beneath him.
Midoriya didn't waste the opportunity. Changing direction mid-air, he drove directly toward the disoriented commander, leg extended in a Full Cowling kick that connected with the alien's chest plate. The impact sent the commander flying backward off the craft, which was now spiraling toward the street below.
"Todoroki-kun!" Midoriya called out in warning.
Todoroki was already moving. Despite his exhaustion, he summoned a massive ice pillar that caught the falling craft, guiding its crash landing away from civilians and creating a containment barrier around the wreckage.
The three U.A. students regrouped, breathing heavily but alive. Bakugo's shoulder hung awkwardly despite being reset, Todoroki was visibly struggling to maintain his ice formations, and Midoriya could feel the strain in his muscles from pushing One For All beyond his usual limits.
"Not bad," Bakugo admitted grudgingly, which from him was practically effusive praise.
"Your plan worked perfectly," Todoroki added, more generous with his acknowledgment.
Midoriya flushed with embarrassment and pride. "It was our combination that made it work. I couldn't have—"
He was interrupted by the sound of repulsors as the red and gold armored figure—Iron Man—descended toward their position. The armor gleamed even through battle damage, its design unlike anything from their world—no visible support items, completely integrated technology.
The faceplate retracted, revealing a man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. His expression was a blend of impressed and concerned as he surveyed the three teenagers and the downed command vessel.
"Nice work," he said, his tone casual despite the chaos around them.
"Especially the spinning explosion finale. Very dramatic. I give it a nine out of ten—would've been a perfect score, but you didn't stick the landing."
Bakugo bristled at what he perceived as criticism. "Like you could do better, old man!"
Instead of being offended, the man's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Kid, I've been blowing things up with style since before you were born."
He turned his attention to Midoriya. "That was your strategy, wasn't it? You're the brains of this operation."
Before Midoriya could stammer a response, the man continued, addressing all three. "Tony Stark. You might have heard of me. Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, currently dealing with an alien invasion that you three have somehow wandered into."
"We didn't wander into anything," Todoroki replied calmly. "We were transported here against our will."
That caught Stark's attention. "Transported? From where, exactly?"
"Japan," Midoriya answered. "U.A. High School. We're heroes-in-training."
"Never heard of it," Stark replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And JARVIS couldn't find any record of it either, which is saying something."
"Who's JARVIS?" Midoriya asked, curiosity momentarily overriding caution.
"My AI," Stark answered casually, as if this explained everything.
"Look, fascinating as this conversation is, we're still in the middle of an alien invasion. Cap thinks you should be evacuated. Thor thinks you might be Asgardian runaways. Personally, I think you're three enhanced individuals with serious potential and questionable supervision."
"We don't need supervision," Bakugo growled.
Stark looked pointedly at his dislocated shoulder, Todoroki's frost-covered right side, and Midoriya's burned leg. "Yeah, clearly you've got everything under control."
"Mr. Stark," Midoriya interjected before Bakugo could explode, "we understand your concern, but we are trained for combat situations. In our... where we're from, U.A. is the top hero school in Japan."
"Hero school," Stark repeated, eyebrows raising. "Like, what, superhero boarding school? With classes in cape management and witty one-liner development?"
"We don't wear capes," Todoroki replied with complete seriousness. "They're impractical in combat situations."
Stark stared at him for a beat before a genuine laugh escaped him. "I like this one," he said, gesturing to Todoroki. "Very deadpan."
The conversation was interrupted by a voice from Stark's communication system. "Stark, we've got a situation at the portal device. Dr. Selvig says it can be closed using the scepter."
"Copy that," Stark responded, his demeanor instantly shifting from amused to focused. He looked at the three students with newfound seriousness. "Listen, you three have done good work here. But things are about to get complicated at the epicenter. Stay in this perimeter, continue evacuation assistance, and when this is over, we're going to have a very long talk about interdimensional travel and underage superheroics."
Before any of them could respond, his faceplate snapped back into place and he blasted off toward Stark Tower.
"Did he say interdimensional?" Bakugo asked, surprisingly the first to catch that detail.
Midoriya nodded slowly. "He believes us about being from elsewhere. And his AI couldn't find U.A.—which means..."
"We really are in another world," Todoroki finished quietly.
The implications hung heavy between them. If this was truly an alternate dimension, what did that mean for getting home? For their families, their classmates, their futures as heroes?
Bakugo was the first to shake off the weight of these questions. "Doesn't change anything right now," he declared, rolling his injured shoulder with a grimace. "We're still heroes. We still have a job to do."
His simple, uncharacteristically mature assessment grounded the other two. Midoriya nodded, determination replacing uncertainty in his expression.
"Kacchan's right," he said, earning a surprised look from Bakugo. "Let's focus on the present. We can figure out the rest after we save these people."
Todoroki created a small flame in his palm, testing his recovering energy levels. "Agreed. We continue as we have been."
As they turned to resume their evacuation efforts, a massive roar echoed across the city. Looking up, they witnessed an incredible sight—the armored figure of Iron Man guiding what appeared to be a nuclear missile directly into the portal in the sky.
"Is he—" Midoriya began, horror dawning as he realized what was happening.
"He's taking it through," Todoroki confirmed, voice quiet with respect.
Even Bakugo was silent, watching the selfless act with an expression that mingled shock and reluctant admiration.
Seconds stretched into an unbearable minute as the three students stood frozen, eyes fixed on the portal. Then, just as the hole in reality began to close, a small figure fell back through—Iron Man, plummeting lifelessly toward the ground.
"He's not slowing down," Todoroki observed, already creating an ice slide in a futile attempt to reach him.
Before any of them could act, the massive green figure—the Hulk—leaped through the air, catching Stark mid-fall and using a building to slow their descent.
The three U.A. students watched from a distance as the group of heroes converged around their fallen comrade. Even from blocks away, they could sense the camaraderie, the bond formed through battle.
"They're a team," Midoriya murmured, recognition in his voice. "Like All Might and Endeavor and the other top heroes, but... different. More connected."
Bakugo snorted dismissively, but his usual vitriol was absent. "Whatever. They got the job done."
"Yes," Todoroki agreed, watching as the apparently revived Stark was helped to his feet by his teammates. "They did."
As the portal closed completely, a strange quiet settled over the devastated city. The invasion was over. They had won—these local heroes and three displaced students from another world, fighting together against impossible odds.
"So what now?" Bakugo asked, voicing the question all three were thinking.
Before either could respond, a black vehicle with tinted windows pulled up beside them. The door opened to reveal the red-haired woman they'd glimpsed during the battle—dressed in a black tactical suit, her expression unreadable as she assessed them.
"Now," she said simply, "you come with me. The team wants to talk."
Midoriya exchanged glances with his friends. Todoroki gave an almost imperceptible nod while Bakugo shrugged with forced nonchalance that didn't quite hide his caution.
"Lead the way," Midoriya replied, his voice steadier than he felt.
The woman smiled slightly—not quite warm, but not unfriendly either. "I'm Natasha Romanoff. And you three have made quite an impression."
As they entered the vehicle, Midoriya couldn't help but feel they were crossing a threshold more significant than mere transportation. Whatever awaited them with these heroes, whatever this new world held, they were facing it together.
And somehow, that made the unknown future a little less daunting.