MHA: UltraMan

"Listen up, everyone!" A man in a Marine uniform stood before the students, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. The room fell silent, every pair of eyes locked onto him. "Today, I'm teaching you about Haki. Not many know about it, but mastering the basics could be the difference between victory and defeat."

His eyes landed on Uta. "Uta! You'll be helping me demonstrate, since you've already been trained by your uncle, Shanks."

One of the students raised their hand. "Sir, with villains on the rise, should we expect them to use Haki?"

The instructor crossed his arms. "There aren't many who have used haki but don't be fooled—many villains don't need Haki. Their Quirks alone make them deadly. Take Jackson, for example."

Jackson stiffened at the mention of his name.

The teacher continued, his tone firm but certain. "At his current level, he'd struggle against a skilled Haki user. A well-placed attack could bring him down." He paused, offering Jackson a knowing look. "But his power is growing alongside him. One day, his quirk alone will be enough to surpass even the most formidable Haki users."

"But sir," one of the students spoke up, frowning. "Jackson is already the second strongest student. Surely you must be mistaken."

The instructor grinned, shaking his head. "No, I'm not. Strength alone isn't enough to overcome Haki. There are only a few heroes in the world who can overpower a Master Haki user." He paused for effect, then smirked. "For one—All Might."

Present DayJackson's face was buried in his pillow, a small trail of drool soaking into the fabric as he drifted in a deep, blissful sleep. But slowly, his body stirred, his muscles aching as he let out a long yawn. Stretching, he sat up, his bare chest rising and falling as he blinked away the haze of sleep.

"Jarvis," he muttered, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to clear the fog from his mind. "How long was I out?"

"Three days, young Jackson," the AI's smooth voice replied, crisp and precise.

Jason's eyes widened, his pulse quickening. Three days? The realization hit him hard. "Director Fury is going to kill me! I didn't even let him know I was at Avengers Tower". He said out loud 

Before he could process it further, Jarvis cut through his thoughts. "Young Jackson, Director Fury is fully aware of your location."

Jason let out a sigh of relief, the weight lifting slightly off his shoulders.

He wasted no time, stepping into the shower as the steaming water cascaded over him, washing away the last remnants of sleep. His muscles relaxed, and his mind cleared with each passing second. A few minutes later, he emerged, toweling off before slipping into fresh clothes.

Feeling more like himself, Jackson made his way to the lounge, where Tony and Banner were caught up in a discussion, their voices a low murmur over the hum of the tower's tech.

"Yo, Banner," Jackson called, raising a hand in greeting.

Banner looked up, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, look who finally decided to wake up," he teased, standing to meet him. Without hesitation, he pulled Jackson into a firm, familiar hug. "Damn, kid, you're taller!"

Jackson chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's been a while since I've been here."

His gaze flickered to Tony, who was leaning lazily against the counter, watching him with sharp, assessing eyes.

"So," Jackson started, folding his arms. "Are you gonna tell me about this mission or keep me guessing?"

Tony smirked, but there was a rare seriousness beneath it. "First things first—how are you feeling, kid?"

Jackson squared his shoulders, his stance unwavering. "Fully recharged," he said, his voice steady. "And ready."

Tony exchanged a glance with Banner before pushing off the counter. "Alright then, follow us, kid," he said with a smirk, leading Jackson through the sleek corridors of Avengers Tower.

The soft hum of high-tech machinery filled the air as they walked, the walls lined with holographic displays flashing mission data and world reports. With a quiet hiss, the doors ahead slid open, revealing a large conference room.

Around a circular table stood several Avengers—Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Falcon.

Jackson took a step forward, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Hey, guys," he greeted casually, though the tension in his stance betrayed his awareness of the moment.

Before anyone could reply, a sharp voice cut through the room.

"Who's the new kid?"

Jackson barely had time to turn before a blur of red and blue dropped from the ceiling, landing with effortless precision. The figure straightened, white lenses narrowing in his mask as he tilted his head. The black spider emblem on his chest seemed to shift with his movements, muscles coiled like a spring.

Jackson extended his hand, his grip firm but uncertain. "I'm Jackson."

The other guy took it with an easy shake, his mask half-lifted to reveal a lopsided grin. "I'm Spider-Man. Or, y'know, Peter Parker."

Jackson narrowed his eyes, recognition flickering in his mind. "I've seen videos of you. You were a solo hero, right?"

Pete shrugged, hands slipping into his suit's belt as if he'd answered this a hundred times. "Yep. Got invited to the Avengers, took the chance, and now I'm here."

Something clicked in Jackson's mind. Parker. His expression shifted. "Wait… are you married to Gwen?"

Pete's head tilted slightly before he gave a short nod. "Yep. Why, you met her?"

"Yeah," Jackson said, crossing his arms. "On the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier."

Pete chuckled, crossing his arms. "Small world, huh?"

"Alright, time to get to work." Captain America's voice was firm, cutting through the room and drawing everyone's attention—including Spider-Man and Jackson.

As the others focused in, Cap met Jackson's eyes and gave him a subtle nod—a quiet, unspoken acknowledgment only a father could give his son.