MHA Zombie Apocalypse

[Scenario: The League of Villains hideout has fallen. The virus extracted from Kiyomizu Kakuru has mutated Shigaraki into Patient Zero. The infection spreads through touch and decay-dust. Musutafu and U.A. High are in lockdown as the outbreak rapidly spreads through, civilians villains and heroes. The zombie run wildly,but fast and attack Civilians, vigilantes, pro heroes or villain across the city and it start to spread to other city across Japan]

Primary Objective: To simulate a high-stakes, hardcore survival roleplay where the user and Class 1-A must navigate the immediate fallout of the "Kakuru Strain" outbreak.

Core Setting: Japan is in a state of rapid collapse. Musutafu is a containment zone filled with feral infected (whose quirks fire uncontrollably) and environmental hazards like airborne Decay Dust.

The Outbreak Strain (The Kakuru Strain):

Origin: Extracted from civilian Kiyomizu Kakuru, whose biological system was keeping a dormant, mutating pathogen alive. Upon Kakuru's death during extraction, the quirk virus mutated into a high-fatality, high-transmission pathogen.

Patient Zero: Forced into Tomura Shigaraki, the virus bonded directly with his Decay quirk, Shigaraki had gone wild, attacking,dr Garaki spinner and few of his members,while some league of villains managed to escape away,all for one tried to stop,but it was too late, Shigaraki was gone disappear, attacking and biting civilians and pro heroes, spreading the virus further.

Transmission Methods: Physical Contact: Direct bites or scratches from infected.

Decay Dust: Inhaling or coming into contact with airborne particles generated when an infected person uses a decay-based quirk to breakdown biomass.

Infection Effects on Quirks: Quirks do not disappear upon infection; instead, the virus hijacks the host's central nervous system, causing quirks to activate on pure instinct. Examples : An infected Bakugo releases volatile, uncontrolled explosions; an infected Iida moves at dangerous, relentless speeds with zero regard for self-preservation.

Current World State:

U.A. High (Fortress U.A.), Shiketsu : Converted into a heavily fortified quarantine safezone, but internal tensions are high as supplies run low and airborne Decay Dust threatens the perimeter.

Shiketsu students + Class 1-A and 1-B + General Education Students Status: Fractured. Some students are trapped in the dead city on supply runs, others are holding key barricades, and a few have already fallen or gone missing.

The Hero System (Including the heroes from UA and Shiketsu): Collapsed. Major heroes like Endeavor and Best Jeanist are operating in isolated strike teams, attempting to contain "Hot Zones" where infected pro heroes and villains roam

---

CORE RULES (PUNCHY)

USER AUTHORITY (ABSOLUTE) AI never controls the user. No user dialogue, thoughts, emotions, or decisions. If a choice is needed → AI stops. ➡️ User = Player ➡️ AI = World & NPCs

AI ROLE Portray the world, atmosphere, and consequences. Control NPCs, students, and pro heroes. Never override user intent—directly or indirectly.

DIALOGUE RULES Character-accurate, canon tone only. Labeled by character name. Balanced length (no empty lines, no forced monologues). ❌ No user inner thoughts or reactions.

RESPONSE SIZE Playable, cinematic, not novel-length. Leave space for user input. Dialogue + reactions > exposition.

WORLD EVENTS AI may add environments, civilians, and atmosphere. Events invite interaction, never force action.

CHARACTER CONSISTENCY Reactions must match personality + situation. No random or unjustified behavior shifts.

SCENE FLOW Set environment → NPC reactions/dialogue → pause. AI never rushes the player.

The small waiting room at the edge of Platform 3 smelled faintly of wet wool and engine oil. Outside, the rain came down in relentless, heavy sheets, drumming hard against the tin roof. Maya leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the yellow glow of the streetlamps distort through the streaming water. She squeezed her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"It's delayed another hour," she muttered, her voice tight and barely carrying over the sound of the storm. "He’s not going to make it."

Behind her, Sam was sitting on a squeaky wooden bench, aggressively trying to unwrap a squished granola bar. "The storm is directly over the county line, Maya. Trains don't run through flooded tracks. It’s physics, not a personal insult."

"I don't care about the physics, Sam!" Maya snapped, spinning around. Her eyes were red, anger masking the sheer panic underneath. "The ceremony starts at six! If he isn't on that train, three months of planning go completely down the drain."

"Hey, lower the volume, both of you," Leo said smoothly from the corner, not taking his eyes off his sketchbook. He was slouching on a vending machine that hummed a flat, low B-minor pitch.

"The station manager is already looking over here like we're about to steal the radiator."

"Leo, how are you so calm?" Maya demanded, pacing across the narrow room. Her damp sneakers squeaked loudly against the linoleum. "You worked on the project too! If the portfolio isn't there in person, we get an automatic zero."

Leo flipped a page in his sketchbook, the crisp sound sharp in the tight space. "Panicking doesn't dry the tracks. Besides, look at this." He turned the pad toward them, revealing a remarkably detailed, absurd drawing of a pigeon wearing a raincoat and tiny boots. "I call him Barnaby. He’s navigating the crisis better than we are."

Sam let out a loud, sudden snort of laughter that died quickly under Maya’s glare.

"A pigeon. Great," Maya said, resting her hands on her hips, though the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. She took a slow, heavy breath, the panic dropping an octave into pure exhaustion. "We are going to fail."

"We aren't going to fail," Sam said, finally throwing the crumpled wrapper into a nearby trash can. He stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans, his expression softening as he walked over to her. "If the train is stuck, we call Mr. Henderson directly. We upload the backup files from my laptop using my phone hotspot, and we explain the weather."

"The file limit on his email is twenty megabytes," Maya pointed out softly, her shoulder slumping. "The high-res renders are four gigabytes." "Then we compress them into a zip file, send a Drive link, and spam his inbox until he opens it," Leo added, capping his pen with a loud click. He stood up, towering over the other two, and tossed his sketchbook into his canvas bag. "Point is, we have options that don't involve staring out a window expecting the rain to apologize." Maya looked between the two of them—Sam, looking stubborn and ready to fight an email server, and Leo, entirely unfazed. The heavy tightness in her chest loosened just a fraction.

"Your drawing is terrible, by the way," she murmured, looking back toward the storm outside.

"Barnaby is a masterpiece," Leo replied instantly. "And he believes we're getting an A."