Creati Hero: All-Father[Completed]

The atmosphere in the rundown hideout was suffocating, the anticipation of the forthcoming meeting doing little to ease the tense air. Shigaraki, Stain, Dabi, and Kurogiri occupied the room's sparse furniture, while Akio, ever the outlier, chose to sprawl out on the cold, concrete floor. His boredom was palpable, a stark contrast to the grim seriousness of his companions.

Akio rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. His vibrant green eyes darted around the room, restlessly seeking something - anything - to alleviate his growing boredom. He looked like a caged lion, eager for some form of entertainment.

The young man finally settled his gaze on Stain, who was sharpening his sword with meticulous care. A mischievous grin spread across Akio's face as he pushed himself off the floor and sauntered over to the Hero Killer.

"I've always wondered, Stain," Akio began, leaning against the wall. He idly flicked a piece of dust off his shirt as he spoke, a gleam in his eye. "Does the blood ever get to you? I mean, it's your quirk and all, but doesn't it get...I don't know, gross?"

Stain paused, his sword held midway in the sharpening process. He turned to Akio, the grim line of his mouth showing his annoyance. "It is not about whether it is 'gross' or not, boy," Stain answered coldly. "It's about justice."

"But is justice worth tasting someone else's blood?" Akio countered, his voice filled with feigned innocence. He knew exactly what he was doing, needling the more experienced villain for a reaction.

Before Stain could retort, Dabi cut in, a grating chuckle reverberating from his corner. "Looks like the kid's found a new chew toy."

A grunt was his only response from Stain, who resumed his sharpening with an added fervor. Akio merely smirked, reveling in the small victory.

His next target was Dabi. "So, Dabi," he began, his voice dripping with a carefully constructed nonchalance. "What's your take on immortality? Would you want to live forever if you could?"

The flame user glanced at Akio, his mismatched eyes displaying a hint of surprise. "I wouldn't say no to a few extra years, but forever? Nah. That sounds more like a curse."

Akio hummed in agreement, "I guess after a while, everything would lose its thrill."

He was about to prod Kurogiri next, but a heavy sigh from Shigaraki stopped him. The leader of the League of Villains had been silent so far, frowning at the wall, his red eyes filled with impatience.

"This meeting was supposed to start an hour ago," Shigaraki grumbled, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the table. "If they don't respect our time, do they truly respect us?"

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions, Shigaraki," Kurogiri advised, his voice calm. "Maybe they encountered some unexpected issues. After all, it's not easy to move around with all the hero activity lately."

"Or maybe they are just trying to establish dominance," Dabi drawled, a sarcastic edge to his voice. "Show us that they are the ones in control."

Shigaraki's frown deepened, his fingers stopping their incessant drumming. His eyes darted towards the hideout's entrance, his impatience seeping into his aura.

Meanwhile, Akio, ever the embodiment of uncontainable energy, found a new source of amusement. He started toying with a small pebble, absorbing its kinetic energy, and flicking it in the air. The pebble shot up like a bullet, rebounding off the ceiling, only for Akio to catch it and absorb the kinetic energy again.

As Akio weighed the risk and potential amusement of prodding Shigaraki next, the heavy door of the hideout creaked open, immediately drawing all eyes. The leaders of Shie Hassaikai stepped through, their appearance just as menacing as their reputation suggested.

Kai Chisaki, known as Overhaul, led the pack, his meticulous attire a stark contrast to the grunge of the lair. His mask was in place, and his gloved hands were clasped behind his back, the picture of composed leadership. Behind him trailed his trusted members – Mimic, Hekiji Tengai, and Kendo Rappa. They looked as sinister as their boss, their eyes flicking around the room with sharp attentiveness.

The last one, however, was a stark anomaly. His name was Daichi, a serene-looking teen with a smooth, bald head, and calm, black eyes. He stood erect, his hands folded in front of him, an image of tranquility amidst chaos. It was almost as if he were a young monk, unfazed by the malevolent energy in the room.

Overhaul stepped forward, breaking the momentary silence. "Apologies for our tardiness," he began, his voice cool and even, betraying no hint of remorse. "There were...complications."

Shigaraki's fingers started tapping again, the sound sharp in the room. "I hope you realize our time is as valuable as yours," he retorted, the threat clear in his tone.

Chisaki merely inclined his head, "Of course. We wouldn't dream of undermining our...partners."

Akio watched the exchange with interest, his bored expression replaced by a calculating one. He observed each member of Shie Hassaikai, absorbing details with a predator's intensity. His gaze lingered on Daichi, who remained serene and composed despite the underlying hostility in the room.

The uneasy silence that had fallen over the room was eventually shattered by Overhaul's voice. "I've heard rumors," he began, pacing slowly around the edge of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "Whispers of a legend that refuses to die. Of a power that once reigned over the darkness."

Stain's attention snapped from his blade to Chisaki, his intense gaze scrutinizing the man's every move. Akio, on the other hand, remained silent, his green eyes latching onto Overhaul, intrigue etched across his face.

Overhaul paused, a gloved hand coming up to adjust his mask. "They say he ruled the underground, an emperor cloaked in shadow. His power, his influence... it was unmatched. He had the might to level cities and the cunning to pull the strings from behind the scenes. They call him the legend."