Creati Hero: All-Father[Completed]

In the central chamber, Mokami and Overhaul faced each other. The silence was deafening, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Mokami's attire shifted again, his nanobots creating a sleek sword in his hand. Overhaul sneered, "You think that toy will help you?"

Mokami didn't reply to Overhaul's sneer. The silence stretched between them, filling the chamber with an almost palpable tension. The sleek sword formed by his nanobots gleamed ominously, contrasting sharply with the austere surroundings.

The first move came from Overhaul, a swift gesture sending a ripple of destruction through the ground towards Mokami. But the man was not static; his martial arts experience kicked in, propelling him into an acrobatic leap over the incoming attack. His landing was flawless, betraying no sign of stress or strain.

Overhaul narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Mokami's confident stance. "Toy or not, let's see how well you can use it."

An impish smirk briefly played on Mokami's lips. He didn't respond to the provocation; instead, he lunged forward, weapon aimed with deadly precision at Overhaul. His movements were fluid, embodying a lethal dance that only seasoned warriors could appreciate.

The two powers clashed, their distinctive Quirks sparking against one another with raw energy. Overhaul blocked the sword strike, his disassembly and reassembly power preventing any lasting damage. A rapid succession of attacks from Mokami forced him to keep up, each strike coming faster and more unpredictable than the last.

"You have skills," Overhaul conceded, his eyes fixated on the agile figure before him. "But it won't be enough."

His voice had barely echoed through the chamber when he made his move. He reached out, attempting to grab Mokami and disassemble him. But Mokami was faster. He sidestepped the grab, his hands reaching out to touch Overhaul's extended arm. In an instant, the texture of Overhaul's clothing changed, growing heavy and inflexible.

Overhaul withdrew his arm, his expression masked. "Impressive. You can manipulate at an atomic level."

"No need for flattery," Mokami countered, his voice low but carrying across the space. "We're not here for pleasantries."

Overhaul's response was a sharp, unamused laugh. "Indeed."

Overhaul moved again, quicker this time. His fingers almost brushed against Mokami's skin, a mere fraction of a second away from laying a potentially destructive touch. But from out of nowhere, a sticky substance materialized, covering Overhaul's hand and cutting off his attack. Overhaul destroyed the substance instantly, his quirk allowing him to disassemble and reassemble at will. Yet, an expression of distaste crossed his features, clearly disliking the sudden intrusion of the unexpected.

Across from him, Mokami moved away. His nanobots whirred into motion, creating a comfortable throne out of thin air. He sat, a mischievous grin adorning his face. The mere image of him, seated and relaxed as if he was watching a rather dull show, seemed to irritate Overhaul even further.

"You know," Mokami began, his voice echoing in the chamber, "I don't have to fight you from close range." His words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with meaning. "I also know your Quirk, probably better than you do. But I still created a sword."

In his hand, the sword transformed, morphing into a futuristic firearm. Its design was sleek, almost alien, with blue lights glowing at various points. The weapon hummed with stored energy, a deadly promise contained within its frame. "I could have created this," Mokami continued, the grin never leaving his face.

Next, a cannon head emerged from his chest, an eerie glow emanating from its mouth. The sight was almost comical if it wasn't for the deadly implication it held. "Or this," he continued.

Then, a round object appeared in his other hand. A simple push of a button revealed it as a bomb, its timer counting down with a soft, almost inaudible ticking. "Or this."

The sudden display of lethal creations seemed to hang in the air, a silent testament to the potency of Mokami's Quirk. He looked at Overhaul, his grin widening. "I did this to show you, you are nothing."

Overhaul stiffened at the words, his eyes narrowed and fixed on Mokami. The man on the throne just tilted his head, a silent challenge. The fight was far from over, and the chamber seemed to buzz with the unspoken anticipation of the next move.

Mokami continued, his tone casual, almost conversational. "You see, Overhaul, I was too naive before," he confessed, shaking his head as though disappointed by his own admission. "I thought every person deserves a chance. When circumstances change, people change. I thought this time around, you wouldn't be the same."

Overhaul's brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mokami's eyes held a dismissive glint. "That's not important," he waved his hand as though swatting away an annoying fly. His focus seemed to shift, staring into a distance only he could see. "What is important is when a person is given power, they almost always corrupt it. It's uncanny."

His gaze returned to Overhaul, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Anyway, the substance you just destroyed? It had a drug in it. Although it was a split second, you were exposed to it. You could still save yourself if you could use your Quirk, but sadly, you can't."

Overhaul's eyes widened, a spark of fear flashing in them. He tried to activate his Quirk, his fingers twitching, but nothing happened. Mokami watched, his amusement clear.

"You think you're the only one who's researched Quirk Erasing Drugs?" Mokami taunted, leaning back in his chair, the faint hum of his nanobots barely audible. "I created them long ago."

He paused, letting the reality sink into Overhaul. His smile broadened, his tone turning into a mockery of sympathy. "You'll live in a fashion you hate most. Pathetic. Crippled. You won't be able to even wipe your own ass after you shit yourself."

Overhaul seethed, his helplessness only fueling his rage.

"And the best part?" Mokami's tone was positively gleeful now. "Your skin will produce acne that explodes often. Not only is the smell disgusting, but the sticky substance coming out of it will burn your skin."

Overhaul's jaw clenched, his eyes promising retribution. Yet, the man seated before him seemed entirely unconcerned.

"I'm not doing all this for no reason, you know," Mokami's voice held a touch of righteous anger now. "You see, if it wasn't for me, you'd now be torturing my sweet sister, Eri."

His voice softened at the mention of his sister. But just as quickly, the hardness returned. "I know, I know it's not fair to do all this for a sin you've never committed, but hey," Mokami shrugged, "Who said I'm fair?"

The last sentence hung in the air, a cold declaration of retribution. The light from his nanobots gleamed off his face, casting his features into an uncanny mix of shadow and light. Overhaul could only stare, the weight of his helplessness sinking him deeper into silence.