The canvas backpack sat in the dirt, looking completely ordinary, but Zoro knew better. He stood before it, the massive iron slab already resting heavily on his right shoulder. His muscles were screaming, begging for rest after lifting the iron beast all night, but he ignored them.
He knelt down, keeping his back perfectly straight to balance the iron slab. With his free, trembling left hand, he grabbed the strap of the backpack and pulled it over his shoulder.
Thud.
The moment the canvas settled against his back, all the air was violently forced out of his lungs. It wasn't just heavy; it was a dead, suffocating weight. The iron sand inside shifted with gravity, instantly throwing his balance off. His knees buckled slightly, the ten-kilogram iron rings around his ankles suddenly feeling like the lightest things he was wearing.
"Keep your core tight," Kenji's voice drifted from the porch, calm and indifferent. "If you lean forward, the sand will crush your chest. If you lean back, your spine will snap. Find the center."
Zoro gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He didn't say a word. He forced his right leg to push upward, then his left. Every muscle fiber in his thighs tightened like stretched wire. Slowly, agonizingly, he stood to his full height.
The straps bit into his shoulders like dull teeth. The rough grip of the iron slab tore at the raw blisters on his palms. He took his first step toward the dojo gates.
Crunch. His bare foot hit the gravel. It sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet dawn. He took another step. Then another. By the time he passed through the broken wooden gates and stepped onto the paved street of Musutafu, his white shirt was already clinging to his back, soaked in a fresh layer of cold sweat.
The city was still asleep. The streetlights flickered with a pale yellow glow, casting long, distorted shadows on the concrete. The only sounds were the distant hum of a vending machine and the heavy, rhythmic thud of Zoro's bare feet.
Thud. Breathe. Thud. Breathe.
He couldn't afford to think about the distance. Takoba Municipal Beach was miles away. If he thought about the miles, his mind would break before his body did. So, he shrank his world down to the next street lamp. Just reach that light pole, he told himself.
By the third block, the pain stopped being sharp and became a deep, burning ache that settled into his very bones. His lungs burned, the cold morning air feeling like glass down his throat. He tasted copper in his mouth—he had bitten the inside of his cheek.
Every time his foot hit the pavement, the iron sand shifted, forcing his abdominal muscles to lock instantly just to keep him from falling over sideways. His right arm, holding the iron beast steady on his shoulder, went entirely numb. It was a terrifying sensation, feeling as though the limb no longer belonged to him, just a dead piece of meat pinned beneath a mountain of metal.
They use multi-ton robots for the exam, the memory of the tired man's voice echoed in his head.
Zoro's eyes darkened. The pain was blinding, but he used that anger as fuel. He visualized the towering steel machines. He imagined them looking down at him, dismissing him because he had no Quirk.
I will cut them, he thought, his breathing coming out in harsh, ragged rasps. I will cut through all of it.
He forced his numb legs to move faster. A slow, agonizing walk turned into a heavy, grinding jog. It wasn't pretty. There was no heroic grace in his movements. It was raw, ugly, human endurance.
An early morning delivery truck drove past him, the driver slowing down to stare at the teenager running barefoot, covered in bandages and sweat, carrying what looked like a piece of a demolished building. Zoro didn't even notice the stare. His eyes were completely hollow, locked onto the horizon.
Time lost its meaning. The sky slowly shifted from bruised purple to a pale, grayish blue. The smell of Musutafu's city streets began to fade, replaced by a salty, bitter odor carried on the breeze.
The ocean.
He had reached the edge of the city.
The sound of seagulls crying broke his intense focus. He forced his heavy head up. Ahead of him lay Takoba Municipal Beach, a massive coastline completely buried under mountains of illegal garbage. Rusty cars, old washing machines, and shattered furniture created a terrifying labyrinth of forgotten trash right up to the water's edge.
Zoro stopped, his chest heaving violently. His legs shook so much he thought he would collapse right there on the pavement. He couldn't feel his right arm at all. His left hand was bleeding slightly where the backpack strap had worn away the skin on his collarbone.
I made it, he thought, a slow, ragged exhale escaping his dry lips. Now I just have to carry this all the way back.
But before he could even turn around, a loud, terrifying sound shattered the quiet morning.
Craaaaaack! It wasn't a seagull. It wasn't the waves. It sounded like the violent screeching of metal bending under immense pressure. It came from behind a towering pile of rusted refrigerators, deep within the trash labyrinth.
Zoro froze. The adrenaline, which had been completely drained during his run, suddenly surged back into his system like a live wire.
He didn't run away. His grip on the iron beast tightened. With slow, silent steps, he moved off the pavement and onto the sandy shore, creeping toward the towering pile of garbage. The metallic screeching continued, followed by a strained, desperate yell.
It wasn't a villain attack. It sounded like someone in pain. Or someone trying to move a mountain.
Zoro carefully peered around the edge of a rusted pickup truck. What he saw made his tired, bloodshot eyes widen.
In the small clearing amidst the trash, a boy with messy green hair was screaming his lungs out. He wasn't fighting anyone. He was desperately, hopelessly trying to pull a massive, multi-ton safe through the sand with nothing but a frayed rope tied around his waist.
But it wasn't the struggling boy that made Zoro's blood run completely cold. It was the man standing right next to him.
A towering, impossibly muscular giant of a man in an oversized white t-shirt, watching the green-haired kid with bright blue eyes that seemed to hold the light of a thousand suns.
The giant didn't look like a normal citizen. He looked like the unbreakable pillar of the superhuman society itself.