The Italian restaurant buzzed with the comfortable hum of conversation and clinking glasses.
(Original - canon) Mark Grayson sat across from Eve, watching the candlelight dance across her face as she laughed at something he'd said.
These moments had become precious to him – brief moments of normalcy in the craziness that seemed to constantly surround his life.
"I still can't believe William's new roommate actually said that," Eve remarked, taking a sip of her water. "Like anyone could understand quantum physics just by watching YouTube videos."
Mark grinned, reaching across the table to take her hand. "College sounds like it's still as weird as when I left it. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice."
"Being a full-time superhero doesn't exactly leave room for final exams," Eve said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Besides, you're saving the world. That's more important than a degree."
The restaurant was one of the few upscale establishments that hadn't been damaged during the latest villain attack on the city.
Mark had saved up for weeks to afford this dinner – a proper date night, with no superhero emergencies, no family drama, just them.
Of course, that's when his phone rang.
"You promised," Eve said, her expression falling slightly. "No calls tonight."
"I know, I'm sorry," Mark replied, pulling the phone from his pocket with a frown. "It's an unknown number. Probably spam."
His finger hovered over the decline button, but something made him hesitate. After a moment's deliberation, he answered.
"Hello?"
"Mark." The voice on the other end was immediately recognizable. Cecil Stedman, Director of the Global Defense Agency, and currently the last person Mark wanted to hear from.
"I'm hanging up," Mark said flatly. Their last encounter had left him with no desire to take orders from Cecil ever again.
"Mark, wait!" There was something in Cecil's voice – an urgency, a fear that Mark had never heard before. "Listen to me. You need to run. Now."
Mark sat up straighter, his relaxed demeanor vanishing instantly. "What are you talking about?"
Eve noticed the change, her own expression shifting to concern.
"There's no time to explain everything," Cecil continued, his words coming in a rushed whisper. "The Emperor of Viltrum, Thragg, is here. He's with your father, and they're looking for you."
"My father?" Mark's grip tightened on the phone. "That's impossible. He's-"
"It's Angstrom Levy," Cecil cut him off. "He's behind this. I don't understand it all myself, but they're not from our reality. You need to take Eve, get your mother and Oliver, and find somewhere to hide until-"
There was a sudden commotion on the other end of the line – the sound of wind, followed by shouts and the distinctive sound of energy weapons discharging.
"Cecil?" Mark stood up, drawing concerned looks from nearby diners. "Cecil, what's happening?"
For a mere instant, there was only chaos on the line. Then, a new voice spoke – deep, commanding, with an authority that sent a chill down Mark's spine even through the phone.
"That wasn't a wise action, Director Stedman."
The line went dead.
Mark stared at his phone in shock, his mind racing to process what he'd just heard.
"Mark?" Eve was standing now too, pink energy already beginning to swirl around her fingertips. "What's going on?"
"We need to go," Mark said, throwing money on the table. "Right now. I'll explain on the way, but we need to get to my mom and Oliver."
------------------------
At the Global Defense Agency headquarters, the situation had escalated rapidly.
The central command room, normally a hive of organized activity, had transformed into a standoff between two forces – the GDA's elite security team and Thragg's group who had appeared without warning less than ten minutes ago.
Thragg dropped the crushed remnants of Cecil's phone onto the polished floor. The device shattered into countless fragments, scattering across the marble tiles like metallic confetti.
Cecil Stedman stood surrounded by GDA agents with weapons trained on the visitors.
Despite the overwhelming firepower aimed at them, he knew it was merely symbolic. If these beings wanted him dead, he would be – regardless of how many guns his people pointed at them.
"That was a $900 phone," Cecil remarked dryly, "Government budget's not what it used to be."
Thragg ignored the comment, his imposing figure dominating the room.
"You shouldn't have warned him," Thragg stated, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. "It complicates matters unnecessarily."
"Complicating matters for potentially hostile aliens is literally in my job description." Cecil countered.
Amanda stepped forward, her crimson cape flowing behind her. "That was stupid, Cecil," she said, frustration evident in her voice. "We're not here to do anything bad. We're literally trying to save your world."
"That may be so," Cecil replied, "But you probably also want to conquer this world, like you did your Earth, right? I mean, Nolan's here, and apparently he's with the Emperor of Viltrum as well."
He gestured toward Nolan, who stood silently observing the exchange. "In your world, Mark probably joined his father and they conquered Earth together."
Nolan shook his head. "Your assumptions are wrong, Cecil. The circumstances of our reality are more complex than you understand."
Cecil scoffed. "Enlighten me, then. Because from where I'm standing, I see the most powerful beings in the universe who've already conquered one Earth showing up uninvited on mine."
His eyes narrowed as he continued. "My Mark and I might not agree on some things, but he's still our last stand. And I'll be damned before letting him get into your hands."
"Your loyalty to Mark is admirable," Conquest growled, his scarred face contorted in what might have been amusement. "But misplaced in this instance."
One of the GDA agents shifted nervously, his weapon trembling slightly as he aimed it at Conquest.
The ancient warrior noticed and bared his teeth in what might have been a smile, causing the agent to take an involuntary step back.
"Your assessment is fundamentally flawed. Our presence here is not inherently conquest-oriented. The multiverse-" Roberta began.
"Save the scientific lecture," Cecil interrupted, raising a hand. "I've been in this game long enough to know that people with power rarely show up just to help."
"Then you have encountered the wrong people with power," Eve interjected, her pink energy swirling around her fingertips. "Where we come from, we use our abilities to protect, not harm."
Cecil's gaze shifted to her, then to our Mark (alternate - fanfic - Mark), noting their similarities to the Eve and Mark he knew. "And yet you're still with him," he said, nodding toward Thragg.
"The Emperor of Viltrum. Not exactly known for his humanitarian work."
"You know nothing about him," Mark defended, stepping forward. "The Thragg of your world might be different, but our Emperor has brought peace and prosperity to countless worlds."
Cecil laughed humorlessly. "Peace through subjugation isn't peace, kid. It's just a prettier word for slavery."
"Enough," Thragg's voice cut through the debate like a blade. "This discussion is inefficient. I will retrieve Mark Grayson personally. He should be at the Grayson home."
"Emperor," Mark began - calling him formally in this setting, as is appropriate - stepped forward, his expression earnest. "Let me go. You don't need to act yourself."
"No," Thragg replied firmly. "If it came to a fight, it would be an actual battle between yourself and the other Mark.
But if I approach him, I can subdue him without true combat. My presence alone will be sufficient."
Cecil tensed visibly. "You're not going anywhere near him," he declared, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his understanding of how powerless he was to stop Thragg.
"You misunderstand your position, Director," Thragg stated calmly. "This is not a negotiation. It is a courtesy notification."
"But Emperor," Conquest protested, his massive frame shifting forward. "It is beneath your station to perform such tasks when your subjects are present to serve. Allow me to retrieve the boy."
"Your eagerness for battle is noted, Conquest," Thragg replied. "But this requires a more... diplomatic approach."
Conquest's scarred face twisted in frustration, but he stepped back respectfully. "As you command, Emperor."
Thragg's gaze silenced further objections. "I have made my decision."
Without another word, he strode toward the exit, the assembled GDA agents parting before him like water.
None dared to physically block his path, though several kept their weapons trained on his back.
"This is a mistake," Cecil called after him. "Mark won't come willingly. He'll fight."
Thragg paused at the doorway, turning slightly. "Then he will learn, as countless others have, the futility of resisting the inevitable."
With that final statement hanging in the air, he continued forward. Moments later, the building trembled slightly as he launched himself into the sky, accelerating toward the Grayson residence.
Eve watched him depart through the massive glass windows of the command center, a mixture of concern and frustration on her face. "Dad is so stubborn sometimes," she grumbled unconsciously.
The room fell silent. Eve's hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she'd said aloud.
Amanda raised an eyebrow, her expression not malicious but amused. "Dad?" she repeated, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Eve's cheeks flushed bright red. "I didn't mean - I was just - "
"Does this mean you'll be calling me and Roberta 'mom' eventually?" Amanda teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Mark snorted, trying and failing to suppress his laughter. "Eve, you've been holding out on me. When did this happen?"
"It hasn't!" Eve protested, her face growing redder by the second. "It was just a slip of the tongue!"
Even Conquest's scarred face twisted into what might have been a grin. "The Emperor would be... interested to hear of this development."
"Don't you dare tell him," Eve threatened, pink energy flickering around her hands.
"I find the familial designation both logical and emotionally appropriate," Roberta observed, her clinical tone somehow making the situation even more humorous.
"Given the mentorship dynamic that has developed between you and the Emperor, the psychological transference to a paternal relationship is entirely predictable."
"Not helping, Roberta!" Eve groaned, covering her face with her hands.
Amanda stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Eve's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I think it's sweet. And between us," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "he'd probably be secretly pleased."
"It's not funny!" Eve protested, though a reluctant smile was forming on her own face. "It just... slipped out."
As laughter rippled through the group, Cecil watched them with calculating eyes, noting the easy camaraderie, the genuine affection.
This wasn't what he had expected from interdimensional conquerors. It was... disconcertingly human.
"You really aren't here to enslave us, are you?" he asked quietly, his question directed at Nolan.
Nolan gave Cecil a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. "Look, Cecil, we are conquerors. I won't lie about that. But it's not what you think.
On our Earth, we made things better. We cured diseases, ended wars, advanced technology. People are living better lives."
"So you're benevolent dictators," Cecil replied dryly. "That's still dictators."
"Call it what you want," Nolan shrugged. "But right now, that's not our focus here. There's something coming that could wipe out your world completely. We're trying to stop it."
Cecil rubbed his eyes, as he said. "Then I hope, for all our sakes, that your Emperor can convince Mark of that before they come to blows."
-----------------------
Mark landed on his front lawn with Eve beside him, both still in their dinner clothes. Without hesitation, he burst through the front door.
"Mom! Oliver!" he called out, his voice urgent.
Debbie looked up from the television, startled by her son's sudden entrance. "Mark? What's wrong?"
Oliver glanced up from his tablet, immediately alert at the tension in his half-brother's voice.
"We need to go, now," Mark said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't explain everything, but we're in danger. We need to-"
"Mark?" Debbie stood, concern etched on her face. "Slow down. What kind of danger?"
"Cecil called," Mark explained hurriedly, already moving toward the stairs. "He said something about Thragg, the Emperor of Viltrum, being here with... with Dad."
"That's impossible," Oliver said, rising to his feet. "Dad is-"
"I know," Mark cut him off. "Cecil said it's Angstrom Levy. Something about them being from another reality."
"Another reality?" Debbie repeated, her face paling. "Like... Those evil versions of you he talked about."
"I don't know, Mom," Mark admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "The call got cut off. But Cecil sounded scared, and Cecil doesn't scare easily."
Eve moved to the window, scanning the sky. "We should hurry. If what Cecil said is true-"
"I'll grab some essentials," Debbie said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "Oliver, help me."
"No time," Mark insisted. "We need to leave now. I'll fly you somewhere safe, then figure out what's going on."
"Where would we go?" Oliver asked, his voice carrying a hint of excitement despite the tension. "If this guy's has that Cecil guy then, he could probably track us anywhere."
"I know people," Mark replied. "Places Cecil doesn't even know about. We just need to-"
His words died in his throat as a thunderous crash shook the house. The sound of something - or someone - landing with tremendous force on the front lawn.
All four of them turned toward the window.
Standing on the lawn, his massive frame silhouetted against the evening sky, was a figure Mark had never seen before but instantly recognized on instinct - his every nerve telling him to not fight to run - that he'll diediediediediedie if he fights him.
A muscular giant wearing what appeared to be a white fur coat, with a distinctive mustache and an aura of absolute authority.
Thragg.
The coat billowed around him like a living thing - Battle's Beast's face directed towards them - The Emperor's mustached face impassive as he stared directly at the house.
At Mark.
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(Author note: So, we are in the canon world now.
Yeah, this Mark has better instincts, and Thragg isn't really holding back his presence, by thinking peaceful thoughts - cough bloodlust cough - the spiritual will always be relevant.
It won't be me just writing it without any exploration.
Also, how did you find Eve accidentally calling Thragg 'dad' outloud? She's been calling him that in her thoughts for weeks now.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)