The citizens of downtown Chicago parted like the Red Sea as Thragg strode along Michigan Avenue.
Despite the months since Earth's integration into the Viltrum Empire, the sight of the Grand Regent himself moving among the general population still generated waves of awe, fear, and fascination.
Pedestrians stepped hurriedly aside, conversations hushed, and smartphones rose discreetly to capture the rare appearance.
Thragg paid them no attention.
His purpose today was not governmental or military but personal - an experiment in recollection.
The memories of his human life, while accessible, the emotions felt evident, made him almost... yearn for them. The feelings he felt then, the warmth he hasn't felt in millennia.
His advisors, particularly the Viltrumite medical specialists,
had suggested that immersion in mundane human activities might strengthen his understanding of the species now under his rule when he suggested his desire to know them better (of course without mentioning his true reasons).
A logical recommendation. One worth testing.
He had chosen Chicago randomly from Earth's major cities, having no particular connection to the location.
The crowds parted automatically before him as he walked, his crimson cape and white uniform with the Viltrumite insignia unmistakable.
He made no effort to appear less intimidating or more approachable. Such pretense would be inefficient and beneath his station.
A restaurant caught his attention - not for any particular quality, but because it represented human activity.
Eating in public, surrounded by others engaged in the same basic biological function, seemed to be a social ritual his first life memories suggested was significant.
The establishment's large windows revealed a half-filled dining room, patrons engaged in conversation over plates of food.
Perfect for his purposes.
Thragg entered without hesitation, the ambient noise of conversation and cutlery instantly ceasing as heads turned toward the door.
The host, a young man in a black shirt and tie, froze in place, menu in hand, eyes widening in recognition and alarm.
"I require a table," Thragg stated simply.
The host swallowed visibly. "Of - of course, Grand Regent. Right this way, please."
The young man led Thragg to a corner table with good sightlines to both the entrance and the street beyond.
Whether this was standard procedure or an intuitive recognition of strategic positioning, Thragg couldn't determine.
He seated himself, his frame dwarfing the restaurant's furniture but not uncomfortably so.
"Would you like to see a menu?" the host asked, his voice admirably steady despite the slight tremor in his hands.
"Yes," Thragg replied.
As the host retreated, conversation in the restaurant gradually resumed, though at a noticeably lower volume and with frequent glances in his direction.
Thragg observed the other patrons with clinical detachment, noting their behavioral patterns and social dynamics.
A family with young children occupied a large booth, the parents attempting to maintain order while the children colored on paper placemats.
Business associates in formal attire discussed matters over half-eaten lunches.
Couples engaged in what appeared to be romantic interactions, leaning toward each other across their tables.
All so ordinary. All so human.
A waiter approached, clearly having drawn the short straw among the staff, carrying a single menu with hands that shook only slightly.
"Good afternoon, Grand Regent," he said with remarkable composure. "Can I start you with something to drink?"
Thragg accepted the menu. "Water is sufficient."
The waiter nodded and retreated quickly. Thragg examined the menu, finding the descriptions unnecessarily florid.
"Hand-crafted artisanal burger with locally sourced heirloom tomatoes and house-made aioli on a brioche bun." The language was inefficient, designed to elevate a simple protein source between carbohydrate layers.
His human memories provided context, however. The emphasis on craftsmanship and sourcing indicated cultural values beyond mere sustenance. Interesting.
As he contemplated the menu, Thragg became aware of a figure approaching his table with deliberate purpose.
He didn't look up - his peripheral vision and other senses had already identified the individual as female, approximately 5'7", athletic build, no weapons, no immediate threat.
"Is this seat taken?" a voice asked.
Now Thragg raised his eyes from the menu. Before him stood a young woman in her early twenties, brown hair cut in a practical shoulder-length style, wearing jeans and a fitted jacket.
Her expression carried none of the fear or awe typical of humans in his presence - merely a calm confidence that bordered on familiarity.
It took him less than a second to recognize her. Amanda, the metahuman known as Monster Girl.
The one whose transformation abilities had caused her to age backward, a condition he had stabilized with Viltrumite medical technology.
According to his records, she had used the cellular acceleration device regularly over the past months, bringing her physical age into alignment with her chronological one.
"No," Thragg replied simply, closing the menu.
Amanda pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, an action that caused several nearby diners to stare in disbelief.
Either she was oblivious to their reactions, or - more likely, given her intelligence profile - she simply didn't care.
"I thought that was you," she said, as if encountering the ruler of Earth in a random Chicago restaurant was perfectly normal. "Didn't expect to see the Grand Regent of Viltrum having lunch at Gino's."
Thragg studied her briefly. "You are not currently in costume. This is not a Guardian-related matter."
"Nope," she agreed. "Day off. I'm just Amanda today."
The waiter returned with Thragg's water, nearly dropping the glass when he saw Amanda sitting casually across from the Grand Regent.
"Oh! I'm sorry - I didn't realize - would you like something to drink as well, miss?" he stammered.
"Iced tea, please," Amanda replied with an easy smile that seemed to calm the young man slightly.
"And have you decided on your order, sir?" the waiter asked Thragg, notepad poised.
"The steak. Rare," Thragg stated, handing back the menu.
"And I'll have the grilled chicken salad," Amanda added before the waiter could escape.
As the waiter hurried away, Amanda turned her attention back to Thragg. "So, what brings the ruler of Earth to a random restaurant in Chicago? No offense, but you don't exactly seem like the type to enjoy casual dining."
"I am conducting an experiment in human social behaviors," Thragg replied truthfully, seeing no reason for deception. "Experiencing typical human activities to enhance understanding of the species under my governance."
Amanda raised an eyebrow. "You're people-watching? That's... surprisingly normal."
"The process is more complex than mere observation," Thragg corrected. "It involves contextual immersion to activate specific neural pathways."
"So you're trying to understand humans better by doing human things," Amanda translated. "That's actually kind of thoughtful, in a weird way."
Thragg did not respond to this characterization. Instead, he asked, "Why have you approached me? Your file indicates no particular interest in Viltrumite governance beyond the medical technology provided for your condition."
Amanda shrugged. "Curiosity, mostly. It's not every day you see the most powerful being on in the universe sitting alone in a restaurant. Plus, I figured I owed you a thank you."
"For the cellular acceleration device," Thragg surmised.
"Yeah." Amanda's expression softened slightly. "It's changed everything for me. Being able to look my actual age, not having to worry about transforming and losing more years... it's freedom I never thought I'd have."
Thragg inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. "The technology was a logical application of existing Viltrumite medical capabilities. Your condition was inefficient and wasteful of potential."
Amanda laughed - a sound that caused several nearby diners to look over in shock, as if laughing in Thragg's presence might trigger some catastrophic response.
"You really know how to make a girl feel special," she said, her tone suggesting humor rather than offense. "Most people would just say 'you're welcome.'"
Thragg considered this. "You're welcome" implied a gift or favor, neither of which accurately described his actions.
The device had been provided because it represented the most efficient solution to a biological problem that limited a potentially valuable metahuman asset.
But his first life memories made him understand that explaining this would be considered... rude.
"You're welcome," he said instead, the phrase feeling strange on his tongue.
Their conversation paused as the waiter delivered Amanda's iced tea. Thragg observed how she thanked the young man with a smile that visibly relaxed his nervous posture.
A small social interaction, yet it produced measurable effects on the recipient's physiological state. Interesting.
"So," Amanda continued after taking a sip of her drink, "how's the whole 'ruling Earth' thing going? From my perspective, things seem pretty stable, but I'm guessing you see a bigger picture."
"The integration proceeds according to established parameters," Thragg replied. "Resistance has decreased by 78.3% since implementation began.
Technological transfer initiatives are advancing at acceptable rates. The breeding program has exceeded initial projections by 12%."
Amanda made a face at the last item. "Yeah, that's still the creepiest part of the whole deal. No offense."
"Offense is irrelevant. The program is necessary for Viltrumite survival," Thragg stated. "The volunteers are treated with respect and provided with exceptional care."
"I know, I know," Amanda conceded. "It just sounds so... clinical. But then again, that's kind of your whole vibe, isn't it?"
Thragg did not respond to this observation. Instead, he redirected the conversation. "Your integration with the Guardians has been productive.
Director Stedman reports that your combat effectiveness has increased 32% since stabilization of your condition."
"Cecil keeps stats on everything, doesn't he?" Amanda said with a slight roll of her eyes. "But yeah, it's been good. Not having to worry about the transformation backlash means I can use my powers more strategically."
Their food arrived, the waiter setting down the plates with care before retreating quickly.
Thragg examined the steak before him - a simple protein source, cooked minimally as requested. He began to eat with mechanical efficiency, not for pleasure but for sustenance.
Amanda watched him for a moment, then began on her own meal. "You know," she said between bites, "you're allowed to actually enjoy the food. That's kind of the point of restaurants."
Thragg paused, considering her words. His human memories contained impressions of taste pleasure, of savoring flavors and textures, of his... mother's cooking.
Still, since regaining those memories, he had approached nutrition as he always had - as necessary biological maintenance. But perhaps there was value in exploring this aspect of human experience as well.
He took another bite, this time focusing on the sensory input - the texture of the meat, the subtle variations in flavor, the satisfaction of protein consumption. It was... not unpleasant.
"The preparation is adequate," he acknowledged.
Amanda smiled. "High praise from the Grand Regent. I'll be sure to tell the chef."
They ate in silence for several minutes.
Thragg found the experience curiously calming - sitting in a human establishment, consuming human food, engaging in conversation with a human who showed neither excessive fear nor inappropriate familiarity.
His experiment in immersion was proving more productive than anticipated.
The relative calm was shattered by the sound of screeching tires outside the restaurant.
Thragg's enhanced senses immediately registered the vehicle - a delivery truck traveling at approximately 48 miles per hour, significantly above the street's limit - and the failure of its braking system.
The truck was heading directly toward the restaurant's large front windows.
In the 0.7 seconds it took for the truck to mount the curb, Thragg had already calculated multiple response scenarios.
The most efficient would be to intercept the vehicle before impact, minimizing structural damage and potential civilian casualties. He began to rise from his seat.
Then he noticed Amanda's expression change, her body tensing as she too recognized the impending danger. Her hand moving, likely preparing to transform.
Thragg made an instantaneous recalculation.
Amanda's transformation would protect her from injury but would cost her approximately three months of biological age - partially undoing the progress she had made with the acceleration device.
An inefficient outcome when alternatives existed.
Instead of moving to intercept the truck himself, Thragg reached across the table with Viltrumite speed, grasping Amanda's wrist to prevent her transformation.
Simultaneously, he pulled her from her seat toward him, turning to place his body between her and the impending impact.
The truck crashed through the restaurant's front windows in an explosion of glass and metal.
Thragg, with Amanda securely in his grip, remained perfectly still as debris scattered around them.
His cape and body absorbed the impact of several large glass shards that would have caused significant injury to human patrons.
The truck's momentum carried it fully into the restaurant, crushing tables and chairs. It came to rest mere feet from where Thragg stood, Amanda still held protectively against his chest.
The entire sequence, from the sound of tires to the truck's final position, had taken less than three seconds.
For a moment, the restaurant was eerily silent.
Then came the sounds of moaning from injured patrons, the hiss of the truck's damaged engine, and the distant wail of emergency sirens - someone had already called for help.
Thragg released Amanda, who stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you injured?" he asked, his tone clinical despite the chaos surrounding them.
"No," she managed, looking around at the devastation. "But those people-"
Thragg had already begun moving, assessing casualties with methodical precision. Three patrons with minor injuries from flying glass.
One with a broken arm from being struck by a displaced table. The truck driver unconscious but alive, trapped in the crumpled cab.
"Assist the injured patrons," Thragg instructed Amanda. "I will extract the driver."
Without waiting for her response, he moved to the truck, tearing away the crushed metal of the cab with casual strength.
The driver, a middle-aged man with a bleeding head wound, was pinned by the collapsed steering column.
Thragg removed it with surgical precision, then carefully extracted the man, placing him on a clear section of floor.
Amanda had already organized the less injured patrons to help those more severely affected, using tablecloths as makeshift bandages. She knelt beside the driver as Thragg set him down.
"Pulse is steady," she reported after checking the man's vitals. "But he needs medical attention for that head wound."
"Emergency services are approaching," Thragg noted, his enhanced hearing detecting the sirens growing closer. "They will arrive in approximately forty-two seconds."
Amanda looked up at him, a question in her eyes. "You stopped me from transforming."
"Yes," Thragg confirmed. "The cellular degradation would have been unnecessary given my presence. An inefficient use of your biological resources."
Something flickered across Amanda's face - surprise, perhaps, or a realization. "You were... protecting me? Not just from the truck, but from having to use my powers?"
"The optimal solution protected both your physical safety and your cellular integrity," Thragg stated matter-of-factly. "Two objectives achieved with a single action represents maximum efficiency."
Amanda studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Thank you."
The first emergency responders entered the restaurant, paramedics immediately moving to assess the injured.
A police officer approached Thragg, recognition dawning on his face as he realized who stood before him.
"Grand Regent," the officer said, clearly uncertain of proper protocol. "We... thank you for your assistance."
"The situation is contained," Thragg replied. "The driver requires immediate medical attention. Three patrons have sustained minor lacerations, one has a fractured radius, and several are experiencing shock symptoms."
The officer nodded, relaying this information to the paramedics via his radio. More emergency personnel arrived, efficiently taking control of the scene.
Thragg observed their procedures with interest - the human emergency response system was reasonably well-organized, if limited by their technological capabilities. That still needed more improvement.
As the situation stabilized, Thragg became aware of Amanda watching him, her expression thoughtful. "You didn't have to stay and help," she said quietly. "You could have just protected us and left."
"Inefficient," Thragg replied. "My presence accelerated the emergency response and improved outcomes for all involved."
"Still," Amanda persisted, "it wasn't your responsibility. Nobody would expect the king to stay and care for the injured."
Thragg considered this statement. Responsibility was an interesting concept - one his human memories suggested carried significant weight in human ethical frameworks.
As Grand Regent, his responsibility extended to all under his governance, including these humans in this restaurant.
But there was something more, something his first life memories were attempting to make clear to him.
"I chose to intervene," he said finally. "The choice was... logical."
Amanda smiled slightly. "Right. Logical."
A paramedic approached them, looking somewhat hesitant to interrupt. "Excuse me, but we need to check everyone who was in the restaurant. Standard procedure."
"I am undamaged," Thragg stated.
"I'm fine too," Amanda added. "But you should definitely check the family that was in the booth by the window. The kids seemed okay, but they might be in shock."
The paramedic nodded gratefully and moved to the indicated family. Thragg observed as Amanda continued to direct emergency personnel to those most in need, her knowledge of triage procedures evident in her calm efficiency.
"You have medical training," he noted.
Amanda shrugged. "Basic first aid. When you spend time as a superhero, you pick things up."
"Useful skills," Thragg acknowledged. "Your file did not indicate medical expertise."
"There's probably a lot not in my file," Amanda replied with a slight smile. "People are complicated."
As the emergency response continued around them, Thragg found himself experiencing an unusual impulse - to continue the conversation with Amanda, to explore this unexpected interaction further.
The experiment in human immersion had taken an unplanned direction, but the results were proving... informative.
"Your actions during this crisis were efficient and well-coordinated," he stated. "You prioritized effectively without emotional interference."
Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Was that a compliment?"
"An observation," Thragg corrected, though he noted that the distinction might be meaningless to her.
"I'll take it," she said with a slight laugh. "Coming from you, that's practically effusive praise."
A police officer approached, notepad in hand. "We need statements from everyone who witnessed the accident. If you could both-" He stopped, suddenly recognizing who he was addressing. "Oh. Grand Regent. I, uh..."
"I will provide a statement," Thragg said, his tone making it clear this was a concession rather than an obligation. "The vehicle's braking system failed approximately 3.2 seconds before impact.
The driver attempted to correct but was unable to maintain control. The truck entered the restaurant at approximately 42 miles per hour, causing structural damage and multiple injuries of varying severity."
The officer blinked, pen hovering over his notepad. "That's... very precise. Thank you."
After taking Amanda's statement as well, the officer retreated, clearly relieved to escape the interaction.
Emergency services had the situation well in hand now, with the injured being transported to hospitals and structural engineers assessing the building's damage.
"Well," Amanda said, brushing debris from her jacket, "this wasn't exactly how I planned to spend my afternoon."
"The interruption was unexpected," Thragg agreed. "However, it provided valuable observational data on human emergency response protocols."
Amanda shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "Only you would see a truck crashing into a restaurant as a research opportunity."
Thragg did not respond to this observation. Instead, he noted, "Our meal was interrupted. Your nutritional requirements remain unfulfilled."
"Are you... suggesting we go somewhere else to eat?" Amanda asked, surprise evident in her voice.
"The experiment in human social behaviors remains incomplete," Thragg stated. "It would logical to continue it."
Amanda studied him for a moment, head tilted slightly as if trying to solve a puzzle. "Okay," she said finally. "There's another restaurant a couple blocks from here. Less fancy, but the food's good."
Thragg inclined his head in acceptance.
They made their way through the crowd of emergency personnel and onlookers, the sea of humans parting automatically before the Grand Regent's imposing presence.
Amanda walked beside him, seemingly unaffected by the stares and whispers their unusual pairing generated.
As they walked, Thragg found himself focusing more on his first life's memories, recalling the sensation of walking city streets, of casual conversation with friends, of shared meals.
The experiences remained clear, yet the feelings distant.
Though each step, each interaction, brought him almost... close to them.
"You know," Amanda said as they walked, "for someone who supposedly doesn't care about humans beyond their utility to the Empire, you went to a lot of trouble back there to save everyone."
"Efficient governance requires population preservation," Thragg replied automatically.
"Uh-huh," Amanda said, clearly unconvinced. "And I suppose stopping me from transforming was just about 'resource optimization' too?"
Thragg considered this. "Your cellular integrity is a valuable asset. Preservation was logical."
"Right," Amanda said with a knowing smile. "Completely logical."
They continued in silence for a moment before she spoke again. "The device you gave me - the one that lets me age forward instead of backward - it's changed my life. For the first time in years, I feel like I have a future, not just a countdown to childhood."
"The technology served its purpose," Thragg acknowledged.
"It did more than that," Amanda insisted. "It gave me hope. And I've been wondering... was that intentional?
Did you consider the psychological impact, or was it just about making me more 'efficient' as a Guardian?"
The question gave Thragg pause.
His initial calculation had indeed focused on optimizing Amanda's combat utility by eliminating the disadvantageous side effects of her powers.
But somewhere in his decision-making process, influenced perhaps by his first life, he had also considered the quality of her existence - the frustration and limitation her condition imposed.
"Both factors were relevant to the decision," he admitted finally.
Amanda nodded, as if he had confirmed something she already suspected. "I thought so. You're not quite as coldly logical as you pretend to be, are you?"
Thragg did not respond to this directly. "We have arrived," he noted instead, evading the question, indicating the restaurant Amanda had mentioned - a small establishment with a simple sign reading "Mike's Diner."
As they entered, the same pattern of shocked recognition spread through the patrons and staff, conversations halting as all eyes turned to the Grand Regent.
But this time, having observed the process once already, Thragg noted subtle differences in the reactions - the presence of Amanda beside him seemed to alter the humans' perception, making him marginally less intimidating.
Interesting.
They were seated quickly, a nervous waitress handing them menus before hurrying away. Amanda opened hers, scanning the options with casual familiarity.
"The burgers here are really good," she offered. "And they have great milkshakes."
Thragg examined the menu. It was indeed simpler than the previous establishment's, with straightforward descriptions of basic food items.
His human memories provided context - this was a "diner," a type of restaurant focusing on comfort food and casual atmosphere rather than culinary sophistication.
"I will have the burger," he decided, closing the menu.
"Good choice," Amanda approved. "I'm going with the club sandwich."
When the waitress returned, Amanda ordered for both of them, adding milkshakes to the order with a confidence that suggested she was making the decision for Thragg as well.
He did not object - the experiment in human social behaviors included experiencing typical food items.
As they waited for their food, Amanda leaned forward slightly. "Can I ask you something? Something personal?"
Thragg inclined his head, permission granted.
"Why Earth?" she asked. "I mean, I know the official line about genetic compatibility and all that, but there must be other compatible planets out there.
Why choose us specifically? And why the soft approach? From what history you've shared, the Viltrumites aren't usually so... patient."
The question was perceptive. Few humans had directly questioned Thragg's motivations beyond expressing fear or resistance to Viltrumite rule.
Fewer still had connected his treatment of Earth with the historical context of previous Viltrumite conquests.
"Earth presents unique strategic advantages," Thragg replied after a moment's consideration.
"Its metahuman population offers genetic diversity valuable to Viltrumite evolution. Its technological development trajectory indicates potential for significant advancement under proper guidance."
Amanda studied him, clearly sensing there was more. "And the soft approach?"
Thragg considered how much to reveal. His first life memories suggested that honesty, within strategic limits, might be valuable in this interaction.
"Methods evolve with experience," he said finally. "Earth's integration proceeds under my direct supervision, not through proxies. Direct engagement allows for more nuanced approaches."
"So you're saying you've learned from past mistakes?" Amanda pressed.
"I am saying that efficiency improves with experience," Thragg corrected. "The destruction of planets represents resource wastage that can be avoided with superior tactical approaches."
Their food arrived, temporarily pausing the conversation.
Amanda immediately took a bite of her sandwich, while Thragg examined the burger before him - a simple construction of meat, bread, and various condiments.
Following Amanda's earlier suggestion, he focused on the sensory experience as he took a bite.
The combination of flavors and textures was indeed more complex than his clinical assessment had suggested.
His instinctual knowledge, ones he has ignored since childhood, the dampning of pleasure sensory through smart atom control to not be picky of nutritional food made him understand that this was considered "good food" by both his and Earth standards.
"Well?" Amanda prompted after watching him chew thoughtfully.
"The preparation is superior to the previous establishment," Thragg acknowledged.
Amanda grinned. "Told you. Mike's doesn't look like much, but they know what they're doing."
They ate in companionable silence for several minutes.
"You know," Amanda said as they finished their meal, "this has been surprisingly not terrible. When I sat down at your table, I half expected to be vaporized for the presumption."
"Vaporization would have been too messy," Thragg replied. "And unnecessary." With the slightest curve of his lips, he added, "Besides, I don't possess heat vision."
Amanda blinked, momentarily stunned. "Did you just... make a joke?" Her eyes widened in realization.
"Wait, that's a reference to Captain Atomic, isn't it? The way he always vaporizes villains in those old comics?" She leaned forward, utterly fascinated.
"Are you telling me that you, the Grand Regent, the strongest being in the universe, actually read... comics?"
Thragg's shoulders moved in what might have been the Viltrumite equivalent of a shrug, his posture noticeably more relaxed than it had been at the beginning of their meal.
"They provide insight into how humans process concepts of power and heroism. Understanding what the populace consumes for pleasure rather than obligation offers valuable cultural context."
Though he didn't say it aloud, the reference had emerged from his first life's memories - of how Viltrumites were Saiyan-Kryptonian hybrids almost in narrative. The private irony wasn't lost on him.
"Fair enough," Amanda conceded, still smiling. "Still, I'm glad I took the chance. It's not every day you get to have lunch with the ruler of Earth - much less catch him making pop culture references."
The waitress approached with their bill, setting it down and retreating quickly. Before Thragg could reach for it, Amanda picked it up.
"My treat," she said. "Consider it a thank you for saving me from having to transform earlier."
Thragg considered objecting - the concept of a human paying for his sustenance seemed inappropriate given their respective positions - but his human memories suggested that accepting might be the more socially productive choice.
"Acceptable," he said with a slight inclination of his head.
As they exited the diner, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the street.
Pedestrians still gave them a wide berth, but Thragg noted a subtle shift in the humans' reactions - curiosity now mingled with the fear and awe,
as if his presence in such an ordinary setting had made him marginally more comprehensible to them.
"Well," Amanda said, turning to face him, "this has been an interesting afternoon. Again, thanks for the save back there."
"Your gratitude is unnecessary but acknowledged," Thragg replied. "The interaction has been... educational."
Amanda smiled. "High praise indeed. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."
"Perhaps," Thragg allowed, though the statistical probability of another random encounter was negligible.
With a casual wave, Amanda turned and walked away, soon disappearing into the flow of pedestrians.
Thragg watched her go, noting the ease with which she reintegrated into the human crowd - a metahuman with extraordinary abilities, yet capable of existing comfortably within ordinary human society.
An interesting model of adaptation.
Thragg after a moment rose into the air, accelerating toward the stratosphere, leaving the streets of Chicago and their mundane activities behind.
Yet as he flew, the memory of the afternoon remained unusually clear - the restaurant, the accident, the conversation with Amanda, the... feelings that he began to recognize as warmth having began to bloom again....
Thragg immediately pushed the thought away. This was merely a data point in his ongoing analysis of Earth and its inhabitants.
Nothing more.
Nothing more at all.
-------------------------
(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
So, I believed this type of chapter where Thragg tries to be more human would be interesting. Also, do tell me how you found his interactions with Amanda. Do you think they look good together or not?
I personally like it.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)