Toshinori Yagi approached Mark in a secluded corner of the training grounds, his once-mighty frame now visibly smaller in his weakened state. His usual smile was absent, replaced with a solemn expression. He had just finished overseeing Class 2B’s training session and was preparing to rotate through the other classes, but this matter couldn’t wait any longer.
“Mark,” Toshinori began cautiously, “I know who you are, and I—”
Mark interrupted him sharply, his tone cold and unyielding. “It’s too late to make amends, All Might.”
Toshinori flinched as if struck. “How did you—”
“Half hacking, half guesswork,” Mark said without missing a beat, his icy gaze fixed on Toshinori. “It wasn’t that hard to put the pieces together. But let me make one thing very clear—you lost any right to explain yourself or call me your son a long time ago.”
Toshinori tried to interject, his voice heavy with regret. “Mark, please, I know I made mistakes—”
“Mistakes?” Mark’s voice rose, dripping with venom. He took a step closer, his stare boring into Toshinori like a knife. “You don’t get to write off what you did as ‘mistakes.’ You were the world’s Number One Hero, but you couldn’t be bothered to step up when it mattered most. To me, and to anyone who knows the truth, you’re a hero in name only. Nothing more.”
Toshinori opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His hands trembled slightly as he grappled with the weight of Mark’s words.
“We’re done here,” Mark said, his tone final and cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked away, his shoulders squared and his posture resolute.
Toshinori stood frozen, watching as Mark disappeared toward the support course. The faint sound of machinery echoed from the workshop ahead, but Toshinori could hear nothing over the deafening roar of his own guilt. The weight of his past failures pressed down on him, and for the first time in years, the indomitable symbol of peace felt utterly powerless.
-----
At the support course, Mark’s patience wore thinner with each passing second. He scanned the room, his gaze hardening as he took in the chaotic scene. This is meant to help heroes? Time to teach, he thought, his disappointment turning to resolve.
With deliberate precision, Mark loaded a blank round into his Glock 21 and fired a deafening shot into the air. The loud BANG silenced the entire class, leaving the students stunned.
“Hello, Class 1-F,” Mark said, his voice calm but firm, carrying an authority that demanded attention. “I am Mark Williams. I’m here to improve your work—to my satisfaction—and to ensure it meets the standards required to keep heroes alive in the field.”
A student groaned, rubbing their ears. “My ears!”
Another tried to protest, shouting, “Hey! Aren’t guns banned for civilians?”
Mark’s sharp gaze turned toward the speaker. “I am hardly a civilian,” he said evenly, his tone laced with finality. “And I am fully authorized to carry this weapon. Any more complaints?”
The students murmured amongst themselves, but one boy stepped forward, puffing out his chest. “A gun? Please. The body armor I designed can stop a bullet. I’ll show you!”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Is that it there?”
“Yeah, but—hey, wait, that’s mine!” the student protested as Mark grabbed the armored breastplate.
Mark glanced at Power Loader, who gave a nod of approval, before heading toward the development studio. Once inside, Mark calmly loaded a live .45 ACP round into his Glock and fired at the armor. The bullet tore through it, shattering the plate into pieces.
YOU ARE READING
Nightmare
Fanfiction(This is an Alternate version of my story Immortal) Amy Williams, born during the Dawn of Quirks, became a mercenary alongside her brother after the tragic death of their father. Over centuries, she transformed into a feared terrorist, known to both...
