The Castle of Viltrum stood silent against the harsh winds of Mount Everest.
Inside his throne room, Thragg contemplated the reports from his Viltrumite officers stationed across Earth.
The integration was proceeding efficiently, with resistance minimal and diminishing daily as the benefits of Viltrumite rule became increasingly apparent.
But one particular report had captured his attention.
The Russian deployment, overseen by Conquest, showed the expected results - crime rates plummeting, infrastructure improvements accelerating, diplomatic relations stabilizing - yet something in the wording struck Thragg as noteworthy.
Conquest, the oldest living Viltrumite, had always been efficient in his brutality. A weapon of unparalleled destructive capacity, aimed and released at Thragg's command.
Yet his report contained a curious phrase: "Awaiting further instructions to better serve the glory of Viltrum."
Such formality was unnecessary in internal communications to Thragg.
He commanded simplicity, not too formal if unnecessary, something he has done since his new appreciation for it after regaining his first life's memories where everyone wasn't so stiff around him.
Though, to be fair, he himself wasn't the most approachable person.
Beyond that, It suggested something Thragg had observed before but never fully considered until his human memories provided context - Conquest was seeking connection, approval, purpose beyond mere destruction.
Thragg rose from his throne, his decision made. He would speak with Conquest personally. Not merely as Grand Regent to subordinate, but as one ancient warrior to another.
His human perspective had granted him insights into emotional states he previously would have dismissed as irrelevant weakness.
The mad dog of Viltrum had served faithfully for centuries. Perhaps it was time to understand the beast better - to recognize that even the most ferocious hound could suffer from isolation.
With a thought, Thragg activated his communication device. "General Kregg, inform Conquest that I will visit Moscow today. He is to meet me at the Kremlin in one hour."
"Yes, Grand Regent," came the immediate reply.
Thragg stepped onto the balcony of his mountain fortress, the thin air posing no discomfort to his Viltrumite physiology.
With a slight flex of his will, he launched himself skyward, accelerating.
As he flew, he considered what he knew of Conquest from both his second and first life memories.
The warrior was ancient, the oldest living Viltrumite aside from Thragg himself. He had served under Emperor Argall, had been considered a friend to the great leader.
And he had failed to prevent Argall's assassination - a failure Thragg had never forgiven, even as he utilized Conquest's unmatched capacity for violence in service to the Empire.
But now, with the perspective granted by his human memories, Thragg saw something he had previously overlooked.
Conquest's bloodlust, his seeming enjoyment of battle and suffering - these were not merely the traits of a sadist.
They were the behaviors of a being desperate for connection, finding it only in the intimate violence of combat.
In battle, Conquest was never alone. He was joined with his opponent in a dance of destruction, a momentary respite from the isolation that had defined his existence for millennia.
The realization didn't soften Thragg's assessment of Conquest as a tool, a weapon to be wielded.
But it did deepen his understanding of how best to employ that weapon - and perhaps, how to ensure its continued reliability in his new plans.
Moscow appeared on the horizon, the city now hosting one of Earth's most efficient Viltrumite integration zones.
Conquest had been thorough in his management of the region, as expected. What was unexpected was the restraint he had shown - minimal casualties, maximum compliance.
There was hope for the mad dog yet.
Thragg descended toward the Kremlin, the iconic red walls and golden domes standing in stark contrast to the gray winter sky.
As he approached, he spotted a figure hovering above the complex - Conquest, awaiting his arrival as commanded.
Even from a distance, Thragg could see the warrior's posture stiffen at his approach - not with fear, but with a reverence that bordered on religious.
Conquest had always viewed Thragg with a mixture of awe and absolute submission, recognizing in the Grand Regent a power that dwarfed even his own considerable strength.
Thragg landed on the roof of the Grand Kremlin Palace, Conquest immediately dropping to one knee before him, head bowed.
"Grand Regent," Conquest said, his gravelly voice carrying the weight of centuries. "You honor Moscow with your presence."
"Rise, Conquest," Thragg commanded. "Walk with me."
Conquest obeyed instantly, falling into step beside Thragg as they moved across the rooftop. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city below.
"Your management of the Russian territories has been efficient," Thragg finally said, his deep voice carrying easily despite the wind. "The human governments are compliant, crime has been reduced, and the population appears to be adapting well to Viltrumite authority."
"Thank you, Grand Regent," Conquest replied, his scarred face betraying no emotion beyond the constant simmering intensity that characterized his every moment. "I have followed your directives precisely. Minimal force, maximum compliance."
"Indeed. A departure from your usual methods."
Conquest's eyes flickered briefly to Thragg's face, then away. "I serve at your pleasure, Grand Regent. If my approach displeases you-"
"It does not," Thragg interrupted. "On the contrary, your adaptation to the new protocols demonstrates valuable flexibility. The question is whether you find this approach... satisfying."
Conquest seemed momentarily confused by the inquiry. "My satisfaction is irrelevant. I exist to serve Viltrum."
Thragg studied the ancient warrior, noting the subtle tension in his massive frame. "You have served longer than any Viltrumite still living, Conquest. Your loyalty is not in question. Your contentment, however, bears consideration."
"Contentment?" Conquest repeated the word as if it were in a foreign language.
"Yes. You were created for war, shaped by millennia of conflict. Yet here you maintain peace. Does this role fulfill your purpose?"
Conquest's expression remained carefully neutral. "My purpose is to serve the Empire as directed by its Grand Regent. If you command peace, I shall maintain it. If you command war, I shall wage it."
Thragg nodded, turning to gaze out over the Moscow skyline. "A diplomatic answer. But not a complete one."
For a long moment, Conquest was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a note Thragg had rarely heard from him - uncertainty.
"The humans fear me," he said. "As they should. But fear without... application... creates distance. I find myself isolated among them. They avoid my presence when possible. Even their leaders speak to me only when necessary."
"And this bothers you?" Thragg asked, though he already knew the answer.
"It is... inefficient," Conquest replied carefully. "Fear functions best when balanced with occasional demonstration. Otherwise, it becomes abstract, less effective as a control mechanism."
Thragg recognized the evasion for what it was - Conquest translating his emotional response into tactical terms, the only language he felt comfortable using with his superior.
"You miss battle," Thragg stated simply.
Conquest's massive shoulders tensed slightly. "I serve as commanded."
"That is not what I asked."
A barely perceptible sigh escaped the ancient warrior. "Yes. I miss it. The clarity of combat. The purpose. The... connection."
There it was - the admission Thragg had sought.
The acknowledgment of the loneliness that drove Conquest's sadism, his tendency to prolong engagements when not directly ordered to conclude them swiftly.
"In battle, you are never alone," Thragg observed. "You and your opponent share an intimacy few ever experience. Is that not so?"
Conquest looked at Thragg with surprise, clearly not expecting such perception from his leader. "Yes," he admitted after a moment. "There is truth in that observation."
Thragg nodded, continuing their walk across the palace rooftop. "You were present for Emperor Argall's reign," he said, changing the subject abruptly. "You knew him personally."
Conquest's expression darkened at the mention of the murdered emperor. "I did. He was... magnificent. Wise and powerful beyond measure. Until you, Grand Regent, none have approached his greatness."
"Yet you failed to protect him," Thragg said, his tone neutral rather than accusatory.
"Yes," Conquest acknowledged, genuine regret evident in his voice. "My greatest failure. I should have been there when the traitor struck. I should have died defending him."
"Perhaps," Thragg agreed. "But you did not. And in your continued service to Viltrum, you have compensated somewhat for that failure."
Conquest looked at Thragg with something approaching hope - a strange expression on his battle-hardened face. "You believe so, Grand Regent?"
"I do," Thragg confirmed. "Your loyalty to the Empire has never wavered, even in our darkest hours. That counts for something, even against such a grievous failure."
For the first time in their conversation, Conquest seemed genuinely affected, the hardened exterior cracking to reveal something vulnerable beneath. "I... thank you, Grand Regent. Your words honor me beyond measure."
Thragg stopped walking, turning to face the ancient warrior directly. "I have been contemplating the efficiency of our current deployment strategy," he said. "While your management of the Russian territories has been exemplary, I believe your talents might be better utilized in a more direct advisory capacity."
"Advisory?" Conquest repeated, clearly uncertain of the term's application to himself.
"Yes. Henceforth, when your duties here permit, you will accompany me. Your experience spans millennia.
Your perspective on Viltrumite history and tactics may prove valuable as we navigate this integration phase."
Conquest's reaction was immediate - a straightening of his massive frame, a new alertness in his eyes. "I would be honored beyond words, Grand Regent."
"This is not merely an honor," Thragg clarified. "It is a tactical reassignment. Your isolation here diminishes your effectiveness. Your proximity to Viltrumite command will remedy that inefficiency."
Both understood that this explanation was a courtesy - a way for Conquest to accept what was essentially an act of kindness without acknowledging it as such.
Viltrumites did not speak of emotional needs, but they could address tactical inefficiencies.
"I understand, Grand Regent," Conquest said, inclining his head respectfully. "I will arrange my duties here to accommodate this new assignment."
"Good," Thragg nodded. "Now, brief me on the current status of the Russian integration. Spare no detail."
As Conquest began his report, Thragg observed the subtle but unmistakable change in the ancient warrior's demeanor.
The constant tension that had characterized his bearing had eased slightly. His voice carried a new note of engagement.
The mad dog had been thrown a bone, and his loyalty - already absolute - would only deepen.
This was what Thragg's human life's perspective had granted him - the ability to see beyond mere utility to the emotional undercurrents that drove even the most hardened Viltrumite warriors.
Conquest's loneliness had made him erratic, prone to unnecessary cruelty and tactical inefficiency.
By addressing that loneliness, Thragg had not merely shown compassion (a concept he would never have acknowledged); he had improved a valuable asset's functionality.
And perhaps, though he would never admit it even to himself, he recognized something familiar in Conquest's isolation.
The burden of power, of outliving countless generations, of standing apart from all others by virtue of one's strength - these were experiences they shared, though to different degrees.
"The human leader, President Volkov, has been particularly cooperative," Conquest was saying. "He understands power dynamics better than most of his species. His military background gives him a pragmatic perspective on the new hierarchy."
"And the population's compliance?" Thragg inquired.
"Improving daily. The medical technology transfers have been particularly effective in securing goodwill.
Their cancer and diabetes treatment centers now report a ninety-seven percent cure rate, up from roughly thirty percent before our arrival."
Thragg nodded with satisfaction. "As expected. Humans are practical creatures when survival is concerned. They will accept a new order that demonstrably improves their condition."
"Yes, though some resistance persists," Conquest reported. "Small cells of dissidents, primarily in remote regions. Nothing significant enough to warrant direct intervention."
"Monitor them," Thragg instructed. "But take no action unless they move beyond rhetoric to actual sabotage. Martyrs create more problems than they solve."
"Understood, Grand Regent."
They continued their discussion of Russian affairs for another hour, walking the perimeter of the Kremlin complex as Conquest detailed the region's integration progress.
Throughout, Thragg noted the warrior's growing animation, his evident satisfaction at being consulted, at having his expertise valued beyond his capacity for violence.
When their business was concluded, Thragg prepared to depart. "You will report to the Castle of Viltrum in three days," he instructed. "Ensure your responsibilities here are properly delegated before your arrival."
"It will be done, Grand Regent," Conquest confirmed, again dropping to one knee in salute.
As Thragg launched himself into the sky, he reflected on the interaction.
A small adjustment in deployment strategy, a minor acknowledgment of an ancient warrior's psychological needs - these were trivial matters in the grand scheme of the Viltrumite integration.
Yet they represented something significant: the application of his human perspective to the governance of his people.
Before his memories had returned, he would never have considered Conquest's loneliness as anything but weakness.
Now he recognized it as both a vulnerability to be managed and a lever to be utilized.
The mad dog would serve more effectively now, his leash held not just by fear and duty, but by a crumb of connection, of purpose beyond mere destruction.
As Moscow receded behind him, Thragg allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The integration of Earth continued apace.
His Viltrumites were being deployed with increasing efficiency. And soon, the interface had promised, new universes would open to his exploration.
All truly was proceeding as planned.
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(Author note: So, I've given the mad dog a bone.
What do you think of it? Of Conquest getting a bit of connection as he so desired from a fellow Viltrumite - his absolute ruler at that? The one he respects and reveres most in the universe?
Also, was Conquest in character in your opinion? I'm interested to hear your thoughts since this is the first time I write him not in a battle setting where he is completley unhinged.
Also, what do you think of the backstory I've given Conquest? I always wondered why Thragg someone who should respect Conquest for being such a perfect Viltrumite would see him as nothing more than a mad dog,
and well, blaming him for not protecting Argall who Thragg very much respected is a sufficient reason I believe.
Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)