Creati Hero: All-Father[Completed]

The dust swirled, settling to reveal two figures standing at opposite ends of the arena, the sunlight breaking through the cracks above illuminating them like actors on a stage.

"I'm Red Riot," he declared, his voice echoing throughout the space, carrying with it the weight of his resolve. His skin hardened, transforming into a robust shell of protection, his hardened features contrasting sharply with his soft-spoken demeanor. He bore his Quirk with a sense of honor, taking pride in his ability to stand strong in the face of any assault. He was the Indestructible Fortress, his determination as unyielding as his skin.

"Daichi," came the response, the word wrapping around the room like the Earth he commanded. The young man remained steadfast, his gaze as immovable as the rocky defenses he controlled.

The first move came from Daichi. His hand plunged into the ground, the earth responding to his touch like it was an extension of his own body. Walls of stone erupted around Kirishima, a threat as much as a challenge.

Kirishima gritted his teeth, the grinding echoing his determination. His eyes flashed as he analyzed the attack, the walls closing in with an imposing force. His Quirk responded, his body hardening even more to brace against the impact. As the walls crashed into him, he pushed back, his body absorbing the shock of the blow and bouncing it back.

Daichi's lips twitched upward into a ghost of a smile. "Your Quirk... it's impressive," he admitted, his voice gruff yet appreciative. His hand swept out, another set of stone pillars jetting towards Kirishima.

Unwavering, Daichi steeled himself for the next phase of their duel. As Kirishima broke through his rocky defenses, Daichi's hands moved swiftly, knuckles whitening as he applied more pressure into the ground. The earth shifted and rumbled, a pulsating force beneath them as he drove pillars upward, threatening to skewer the resilient Red Riot.

Undeterred, Kirishima's hardened form shone, the metallic light reflecting off his armored skin. He was unyielding, his powers adapting to the forceful stone pillars shooting upwards. Just as the spires of rock threatened to pierce him, Kirishima absorbed their might, reflecting it back in a powerful burst that shattered the stone to dust.

"Strong defense," Daichi grumbled, his gaze locked onto Kirishima, his stone-hard fists unclenching and relaxing. "But how are you with offense, Red Riot?" It wasn't an insult or a jibe; it was an honest question. Kirishima might have been taken aback, but he would recognize the sincerity in Daichi's voice.

Raising an eyebrow, Kirishima smirked, "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

In response, Daichi gave a nod of acknowledgment, his feet burrowing into the ground. The earth churned beneath them, the ground shifting as he moved in for a closer attack.

They danced around each other, the atmosphere tense but not hostile. Each exchange of blows, whether it was Daichi's earth shields against Kirishima's hardened form, was a testament to their respective strengths and strategies.

"You've got some nerve," Daichi remarked, a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth as he drove a wall of stone toward Kirishima. His comment wasn't an underhanded insult but a compliment veiled in their clash's heat.

"Part of the job description," Kirishima retorted, charging headlong into the wall, his body growing harder, the energy from his Quirk flaring around him.

As they clashed, their strengths becoming more apparent, an undercurrent of mutual respect emerged. It was subtle, understated even, yet it persisted in the way they spoke, moved, and reacted to each other. It was a fight, but it was also a learning opportunity.

"What's your drive, Red Riot?" Daichi's question caught Kirishima mid-move. His brows furrowed at the sudden shift in conversation.

Despite the overwhelming strength of Kirishima's defense, Daichi saw through the facade of invincibility that his hardened exterior projected. "Strong armor doesn't mean anything if you're only receiving attacks," Daichi proclaimed, his voice echoing through the chamber as he raised another stone pillar from the ground. He wasn't trying to insult Kirishima but rather challenge him to think and act beyond his natural instincts.

The redhead smirked at Daichi's statement, preparing himself for the oncoming attack. "I'm not just a shield, you know!" With that, he lunged forward, his hardened fists connecting with the stone pillar, shattering it into a cloud of dust. The shockwave from the impact rippled throughout the arena, but Daichi remained unmoved, his gaze unwavering on Kirishima.

The earth quivered under Daichi's command, forming an intricate network of stone columns around Kirishima, entrapping him. It was a tactical move, forcing Kirishima to consider his offensive approach rather than relying solely on his defensive capabilities.

"How will you break free, Red Riot?" Daichi's question reverberated across the stone prison, a subtle invitation for Kirishima to push his Quirk beyond its limits.

In response, Kirishima’s grin widened. “By tearing through anything in my way!” With newfound resolve, he tightened his fists. The harder his skin became, the brighter the metallic sheen. His muscles tensed, ready to propel him forward. With a deafening roar, he charged, shattering the pillars one by one, tearing through his rocky confines with a fierce determination.

Daichi watched, his gaze focused and intense. Kirishima's struggle wasn't lost on him; the metaphorical walls he had erected were not just physical ones. It was the challenge of shifting from defense to offense, the challenge of growth and adaptation.

Daichi maneuvered the earth beneath them again, making the ground shake and tremble. "And what if the terrain shifts beneath your feet, Red Riot?" He questioned, the ground under Kirishima suddenly softening, causing him to lose footing.

Kirishima stumbled, caught off-guard, but he recovered quickly. His hardened fists dug into the soft earth, finding purchase. "Then I'll adapt!" He declared, his voice filled with unyielding spirit.

Without missing a beat, Kirishima lunged at Daichi. He aimed a punch, his fist encased in a metallic sheen. Daichi responded in kind, lifting a shield of earth just in time to absorb the powerful hit. The ground beneath them vibrated, but the shield held.

Daichi dropped the shield and closed the distance. "Think fast!" He called out, his fist drawing back for an attack. It wasn't a threat, rather a statement, a push for Kirishima to move beyond his defensive instincts.

Kirishima responded with a quick sidestep and an equally fast counterattack, his fist connecting with Daichi’s side. Daichi staggered, a grunt escaping his lips, but there was a spark of approval in his eyes. "That's it, Red Riot!"

Sweat dripped down Kirishima's forehead as he straightened, panting heavily. Daichi, on the other hand, appeared unscathed, his gaze focused on the redhead.

"I see your resolve, Red Riot," Daichi said, his tone acknowledging. He placed a hand against the ground, a thin, rocky surface curling up around his hand. "But your power... it's mainly defensive."

Kirishima blinked at the comment. "I can attack too!"

Daichi nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Yes, you can. But ask yourself, what's the purpose behind your attack? You are a shield. Who are you protecting when you strike?"

Kirishima's brows furrowed, his hardened fists clenching. "I... I protect my friends, my comrades. I protect anyone who needs help."

The ground shook slightly under Daichi's command as he nodded approvingly. "Good. That's a commendable answer, Red Riot. But let me ask you this, who holds the shield?"

Silence fell over the area as Kirishima processed the question. His hardened exterior glistened under the sunlight, his eyes reflecting an array of thoughts.

Daichi watched the conflict in Kirishima's eyes. "You see, every shield needs a holder, someone who decides where and how to use it. You have a strong defensive Quirk. You can take any hit, and even reflect it back. But in the end, you are still a shield. You need direction. Purpose."

The tension thickened as Daichi's words lingered in the air. The gravity of his statement wasn't lost on Kirishima. The air around them stilled, the redhead processing the challenge laid before him. It was a delicate dance they were performing - a test of mettle veiled in the form of a brawl.

Daichi's eyes were on Kirishima, studying his reaction. There was no mockery in his gaze, no dismissive laughter - just a silent challenge.

Gritting his teeth, Kirishima charged at Daichi once more. He aimed another punch, his fist enveloped in a metallic sheen. Daichi swiftly lifted a shield of earth, but it was too late. Kirishima’s fist connected, the force of the blow sending Daichi skidding back.

But Daichi was undeterred, a hint of approval in his gaze as he wiped off the dust from his clothes. "There’s your offense, Red Riot," he said, his tone acknowledging.

Kirishima's brows furrowed, his hardened fists clenching. "What’s the point? You keep dodging or blocking my attacks!"

"Exactly." Daichi’s response was simple. His hand plunged into the ground, the earth responding, rumbling underneath their feet. "Every shield needs an arm, a direction. You need a purpose, Red Riot. Not just to protect, but to strike with intent.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, the implication sinking in. A moment of understanding passed between the two combatants, a silent acknowledgment that this was more than a physical battle.

The battle raged on, neither willing to concede. The ground vibrated, pillars of earth and concrete rising and falling to Daichi's command. Kirishima persevered, his hardened body breaking through every barrier, striking with every opportunity. But each successful block, every evaded attack from Daichi served as a reminder - a reminder of Daichi's words.

Daichi, however, was growing visibly tired, his command over the earth becoming slower. He was reaching his limits. Still, there was a sense of satisfaction in his gaze. He had made his point clear. Now it was up to Kirishima to understand and evolve.

In a final, grand display of strength, Daichi called upon his Quirk, the earth around them churning violently. A massive stone column shot up, aimed directly at Kirishima. The redhead’s eyes widened, but he didn't back down. Instead, he ran towards the pillar, his hardened form shining brighter than before. With a mighty roar, he punched, his fist making contact with the rock.

The column shattered into a thousand pieces, dust billowing around them, obscuring the two combatants from view. As the dust settled, Kirishima's form became visible. He was on his knees, breathing heavily, exhaustion finally catching up to him.

Standing opposite him was Daichi. There was a serene calmness about him, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His gaze met Kirishima's, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Daichi gave a nod of acknowledgment, his feet sinking into the ground. The earth churned beneath him, swallowing him whole. His voice echoed from the depths, a final word of wisdom, "Remember, Red Riot. A shield is only as strong as the person who holds it.”

Kirishima’s form softened, the metallic sheen fading. He fell forward, the last bit of his energy leaving him. His breathing was ragged, and his body was sore, but there was a sense of accomplishment. He had not only fought a tough opponent, but he had also learnt a valuable lesson.

The area echoed with the sound of Kirishima’s heavy breaths as he processed Daichi’s words. Who was the arm that wielded his shield? Who guided his strikes?

As he passed out from exhaustion, a name echoed in his mind, a silent whisper, almost unheard - Mokami.