The night sky above the Global Defense Agency headquarters glittered with stars, their light undimmed by the city's glow far below.
The rooftop, normally restricted to maintenance personnel and security details, had become an unexpected sanctuary of calm before the coming storm.
Thragg sat alone at the edge of the roof, his massive frame silhouetted against the starlit horizon.
The Battle Beast coat draped around his shoulders rippled slightly in the night breeze as he gazed upward, his expression contemplative.
The Emperor's thoughts were his own, his face impassive as he studied the constellations of this Earth.
The soft sound of footsteps broke his meditation. Without turning, he identified the approaching figure by the pattern of their breathing and the lightness of their tread.
"Oliver," he acknowledged as the young half-Viltrumite appeared at the edge of his peripheral vision.
"Uncle Thragg!" Oliver's voice carried equal measures of excitement and uncertainty. "I didn't know you were up here. I just came to look at the stars. Mom says I should try to get some sleep, but I'm too excited about everything."
Thragg remained silent, neither inviting nor dismissing the boy's presence. After a moment's hesitation, Oliver sat down beside him, his legs dangling over the edge of the roof.
The contrast between them was striking - the massive Emperor and the small boy, separated by size, power, and the weight of millennia, yet connected by the strange twist of fate that had made them, in some sense, family.
"The stars look the same here," Oliver observed, following Thragg's gaze upward. "Are they the same in your universe too?"
"The stellar configurations are identical," Thragg confirmed. "Though the civilizations that inhabit them differ significantly in some cases."
"That's so cool," Oliver breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. "Have you been to all of them? The stars, I mean?"
"Not all," Thragg replied. "The universe is vast, even for one who has lived as long as I have."
Oliver nodded thoughtfully, swinging his legs in the open air. "How old are you anyway? Dad - I mean, my real dad - never told me much about Viltrumites before he... before he left."
Thragg considered the question, weighing the value of precision against the boy's likely comprehension. "I have existed for millennia," he stated simply. "Since before the civil war that decimated our species."
"Wow," Oliver whispered. "That's really old. Were you always the Emperor?"
"No," Thragg corrected. "I became Grand Regent after the death of Emperor Argall. Only recently did I assume the imperial title myself."
"Emperor Argall," Oliver repeated, testing the name. "That's my grandfather, right? Since he was Dad's father?"
Thragg's expression shifted subtly - a minute softening around the eyes that would have been imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him well. "Yes. Argall was your grandfather, though neither your father nor you ever knew him."
"What was he like?" Oliver asked, his curiosity evident. "Was he as strong as you?"
The sound of another set of footsteps interrupted before Thragg could answer. Both turned to see Nolan approaching, his expression uncertain as he observed the unlikely pair.
"I apologize for the intrusion," Nolan said formally. "I came to discuss battle strategy, but I see you're occupied."
Thragg studied Nolan for a moment, noting the tension in his posture and the careful way he regarded Oliver - this child who was and wasn't his son. "Join us," he said finally. "The boy was asking about Argall."
Nolan's expression shifted to one of surprise and barely concealed interest.
Though he had learned of his heritage in their world, he had no personal memories of the father he had never known. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the space beside Oliver.
Thragg nodded once, and Nolan sat down, completing their unusual trio - Emperor, prince, and the young boy who connected them across realities.
"Emperor Argall was the greatest ruler Viltrum ever knew," Thragg began, his deep voice carrying easily in the night air. "He was not the physically strongest - that distinction was mine - but his strength of character, his vision for our people, surpassed all others."
Oliver leaned forward eagerly, while Nolan listened with rapt attention, hungry for any information about the father he had never known.
"He found me when I was young," Thragg continued, his gaze returning to the stars. "I had already displayed exceptional potential, even by Viltrumite standards. While others saw merely a weapon to be honed, Argall saw something more."
"He took you in?" Oliver asked. "Like an adoption?"
"In a manner of speaking," Thragg acknowledged. "Viltrumites do not form familial bonds as humans do. Children are raised by the state, trained to serve the Empire. But Argall... made an exception in my case."
"What was that like?" Nolan asked softly, unable to contain his curiosity about the father he had never known.
Thragg was silent for a long moment, his expression distant as memories surfaced from the depths of millennia past.
"I remember," he began, his voice taking on a quality neither Nolan nor Oliver had heard before, "a day when I was perhaps the equivalent of a human adolescent in development, though only a few years old by your reckoning.
I had just completed a combat trial against five adult warriors simultaneously - a test no young Viltrumite had ever passed before."
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Flashback:
The training arena's floor was stained with blood - some his, most belonging to his defeated opponents.
Thragg stood in the center, breathing heavily but still perfectly poised, his young body already showing the muscle that would one day make him the mightiest of his race.
Around him lay the unconscious forms of five elite warriors, each at least three times his age, each defeated through a combination of raw power and tactical precision beyond his years.
The observers - military commanders, genetic specialists, combat instructors - murmured among themselves, their expressions a mixture of approval and unease at the sheer potential displayed by the young Viltrumite.
"Impressive," a voice said from the entrance to the arena.
Thragg turned, immediately dropping to one knee as Emperor Argall strode into the training area.
Tall, powerfully built, with a presence that commanded absolute authority, Argall approached the kneeling youth.
"Rise," he commanded.
Thragg obeyed instantly, standing at attention, his posture perfect despite the injuries he had sustained during the combat trial.
"You defeated five of my elite warriors," Argall observed, circling Thragg slowly. "Warriors with centuries of combat experience."
"Yes, Emperor," Thragg replied, his voice carefully controlled.
"How?" Argall asked simply.
Thragg hesitated, uncertain what response was expected. "I exploited their weaknesses, Emperor. Their overconfidence. Their assumption that superior experience would overcome superior strength."
"And did it?" Argall pressed.
"No, Emperor. Experience is valuable, but it must be paired with adaptation. They fought as they had been trained. I fought as was necessary to win."
A slight smile touched Argall's lips - an expression rarely seen on a Viltrumite face. "Well said." He turned to the observers. "Leave us."
The commanders and specialists departed immediately, leaving Emperor and young warrior alone in the blood-stained arena.
"Walk with me," Argall commanded, heading toward the exit.
Thragg fell into step beside him, maintaining a respectful distance as they moved through the corridors of the imperial training facility.
Neither spoke until they reached a private chamber - Argall's personal study within the complex.
"Do you know why I take an interest in your development, Thragg?" Argall asked once the door had sealed behind them.
"Because I am strong, Emperor," Thragg replied without hesitation. "Because I serve the Empire effectively."
"Many are strong," Argall countered. "Many serve effectively. You are unique in a different way."
Thragg remained silent, uncertain how to respond.
Argall moved to a viewing portal that overlooked the capital city, its gleaming spires reaching toward the sky. "What do you see?" he asked, gesturing toward the view.
Thragg approached, studying the cityscape. "I see Viltrum, Emperor. The heart of our empire."
"Look deeper," Argall instructed. "Beyond the buildings. Beyond the infrastructure. What do you see?"
Thragg considered the question carefully. "I see... order," he said finally. "Precision. Purpose."
"Yes," Argall nodded approvingly. "And that is why I have taken a personal interest in you, Thragg.
Because when others look, they see only power and conquest. You see order. Purpose. The fundamental principles upon which true civilization must be built."
He turned to face the young Viltrumite directly. "Strength without purpose is meaningless. Conquest without vision is empty.
The true measure of a ruler is not how many worlds he can subjugate, but how many he can elevate."
"Elevate, Emperor?" Thragg questioned, the concept unfamiliar.
"To raise up," Argall explained. "To improve. To transform chaos into order, weakness into strength, potential into achievement.
That is the true purpose of the Viltrum Empire - not merely to conquer, but to perfect."
He placed a hand on Thragg's shoulder - a gesture of physical contact almost unheard of in Viltrumite culture. "You will be the strongest of our race, Thragg. That much is already certain. But I intend to ensure you are also the wisest."
Thragg stood perfectly still, the weight of the Emperor's hand and words both heavy upon him. "I will not disappoint you, Emperor," he promised, his young voice carrying the absolute conviction that would define him for millennia to come.
"No," Argall agreed, something like pride flickering in his eyes. "You will not."
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As Thragg's voice fell silent, the rooftop was quiet save for the distant sounds of the city below.
Oliver stared at him with undisguised awe, while Nolan's expression held a complex mixture of emotions - wonder, regret, pride, and a deep sadness for the father he would never know.
"That's awesome!" Oliver exclaimed finally. "I wish I could have met him. My grandfather sounds like he was really cool."
Thragg's expression softened imperceptibly as he looked down at the boy. "Yes," he agreed, reaching out to ruffle Oliver's hair, "I wish you could have known him as well."
Nolan watched this interaction with fascination. "I... thank you for sharing that," he said quietly. "The historical records speak of Argall's military achievements, his expansion of the Empire, but not... not much about the man himself."
"History records actions, not intentions," Thragg replied. "Not the private moments that shape those actions."
"Was he..." Nolan hesitated, then pressed on. "Was he a good father? To you, I mean, in the way he raised you?"
Thragg considered this question carefully. "By Viltrumite standards, yes. He was exceptional. By human standards..." He paused, searching for the right words.
"By human standards, he was perhaps severe, demanding, uncompromising. But he was also fair, consistent, and genuinely invested in my development beyond mere utility to the Empire."
Oliver looked between them, his young mind processing this complex dynamic. "So you're both kind of like my family now right? Since one of you is my real dad's alternate self, and the other is my uncle who is the brother of my dad's alternate dad self."
The question was so unexpectedly direct, so childlike in its simplification of their bizarre relationship, that both adult Viltrumites found themselves momentarily at a loss for words.
"The familial designations are... complex," Thragg acknowledged finally.
"But accurate enough in essence," Nolan added, surprising both himself and Thragg with his agreement.
Oliver beamed, clearly pleased with this response. "Cool! I went from having no dad to having one and an uncle!"
The corner of Thragg's mouth twitched in what might almost have been a smile. "It is time to return inside," he said, rising to his feet with fluid grace despite his massive size. "The battle approaches, and preparations must be finalized."
Nolan stood as well, offering a hand to Oliver, who took it without hesitation.
The three of them walked back toward the rooftop access door.
As they descended, they found Levy in the main operations center, surrounded by his dimensional monitors, his expression tense as he studied the readings.
He straightened as they entered, offering a respectful nod to Thragg.
"Emperor," he acknowledged. "I was just about to send for you."
"Report," Thragg commanded, moving to examine the monitors.
"My counterpart appears to have stopped bringing in additional Invincibles," Levy explained, adjusting one of the displays to show the warehouse where the evil Marks had gathered.
"The final count is eighteen. They've been strategizing for the past hour, dividing the city into sectors for systematic destruction."
"Time until they launch their attack?" Thragg asked.
"Approximately two hours," Levy replied. "They're waiting for nightfall to maximize chaos and minimize visibility for defenders."
Thragg nodded, processing this information with characteristic efficiency. "Good. That is sufficient."
"Sufficient?" Nolan questioned.
"Yes," Thragg confirmed. "I will now go personally and execute all of them."
The statement, delivered with such casual certainty, sent a ripple of shock through the room. Royal (our ) Mark and Royal (our) Eve, who had been conferring with Cecil nearby, turned in surprise.
Conquest, who had been standing guard by the main entrance, straightened with sudden interest.
"Emperor," Nolan began cautiously, "with all due respect, that would be extremely dangerous. Even for you, eighteen Viltrumite-level opponents simultaneously-"
"Eighteen children," Thragg corrected dismissively. "Untrained, undisciplined, lacking proper tactical coordination. They are no threat."
"But Emperor," Royal Mark protested, moving to join the conversation, "even if each one is only half as strong as me, that's still-"
"A calculation you are making based on your own capabilities," Thragg interrupted. "Not mine."
Amanda and Roberta exchanged glances, a silent talk passing between them.
It was Roberta who spoke, her voice carrying its usual analytical precision but with a subtle bit of emotion that only those who knew her best could detect.
"Attempting to dissuade the Emperor is statistically futile," she observed. "His assessment of the threat level is accurate.
For a being of his capabilities, eighteen Mark Graysons, regardless of their enhancements or moral alignment, present minimal danger."
"She's right," Amanda added, moving to stand beside Thragg, the crimson cape flowing around her shoulders. "You're thinking of this from your perspective, not his."
She looked up at Thragg, a slight smile playing at her lips. "Though I'd like to test something out, if you don't mind. I've been getting stronger."
Thragg raised an eyebrow, his attention shifting fully to Amanda. "Explain."
Instead of answering verbally, Amanda closed her eyes in concentration.
A subtle change began to ripple across her form - not the dramatic transformation they had all witnessed before, with its explosive growth and gender shift, but something more controlled, more refined.
Her height increased gradually until she stood nearly a foot taller than before (her clothing adapted to it), though still more than a head shorter than Thragg.
Her skin took on a faint green hue, as her hair darkened to pure black, flowing longer down her back, while her eyes, when she opened them, had become a deep, forest green.
The crimson cape with its white sash now fit her altered form better, no longer completely dragging on the ground but still flowing regally behind her.
She turned in a slow circle, the transformation complete, and looked to Thragg with a questioning expression.
"How do I look?" she asked, her voice the same yet somehow richer, more resonant.
Thragg's eyes widened perceptibly, a rare display of genuine surprise from the Emperor.
The beauty before him was unexpected - not the raw power of her monster form, but something more elegant, more controlled, more... compatible with his own aesthetics.
He quickly composed himself, crossing his arms over his chest to maintain his imperial bearing. "When did this development occur?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral despite the obvious interest in his gaze.
Roberta stepped forward, explaining. "Amanda sought to increase her effectiveness as your mate and as a combatant," she explained. "We collaborated to study the essence of her curse, which appeared to be both genetic and spiritual in nature."
"With knowledge gained from the demon detective Damien Darkblood's records," she continued, "we were able to utilize a combination of mystical invocations and my molecular manipulation abilities to modify the curse's expression.
Unlike Eve, I have no mental blocks against manipulating organic matter, though we conducted extensive external testing first to ensure safety."
"The theory was simple," Roberta elaborated. "By aligning the cursed form more closely with Amanda's true soul - female rather than male - we could create a more harmonious transformation that would actually increase power efficiency rather than diminish it."
"The results are as you see," she concluded, gesturing toward Amanda. "Though not as physically imposing as her previous monster form, this version achieves greater strength through superior soul-body alignment.
Similar to how Viltrumite women can achieve strength comparable to or exceeding male counterparts despite less obvious muscular development, due to the efficiency of their smart atom distribution."
Amanda stepped closer to Thragg, a playful smile on her now-green-tinged lips. "Let me test my new strength," she pleaded, her tone affectionate yet determined. "I want to see what I can do."
Thragg studied her for a long moment, his gaze analytical yet appreciative.
Then, with a swiftness that surprised even those familiar with his speed, he reached out and grasped her by the waist, pulling her body against his.
Amanda let out a startled yelp, her green-tinted cheeks flushing darker as she found herself pressed against the Emperor's chest.
"I will test you now," Thragg declared, his voice carrying a hint of something rarely heard from him - genuine pleasure.
Before anyone could react, he bent his head and claimed her lips with his own, kissing her with a force he had never before dared use with her human form, fearing it would cause injury.
The kiss was passionate, possessive, a clear statement of his approval that left no room for misinterpretation.
When he finally released her, Amanda appeared slightly dazed, her enhanced form swaying slightly before regaining its balance.
The Eves blushed furiously and looked away, while both Marks found sudden interest in the ceiling or floor - anywhere but what was before them.
"You are indeed stronger," Thragg acknowledged with satisfaction. "Comparable to an average Viltrumite, perhaps more." He turned to Roberta, his expression shifting to one of genuine appreciation. "Your contribution to this development is noted and valued."
Then, to everyone's shock - Roberta's most of all - Thragg stepped toward her, gently lifted her chin with one finger, and placed a kiss on her lips as well.
Unlike the passionate exchange with Amanda, this was briefer, more formal, yet still carrying unmistakable meaning.
As he withdrew, Roberta stood perfectly still, her normally calm expression replaced by one of stunned surprise.
Amanda, recovering from her own moment of breathlessness, grinned mischievously at her friend's reaction.
The stunned silence that followed was broken by Oliver, who had been watching the entire exchange with the unfiltered curiosity of youth.
"So, Uncle Thragg," he asked loudly, "are you going to mate with them now and fight later, or are we going to go fight the evil Marks first?"
The bluntness of the question, delivered with such innocent directness, created a moment of absolute shock throughout the room.
Nolan looked mortified, Conquest's scarred face froze in disbelief, and Cecil appeared to be contemplating the fastest route to the nearest exit.
And then, something unprecedented occurred.
Thragg laughed.
Not a chuckle, not a brief acknowledgment of humor, but a genuine, deep laugh that filled the room and caused everyone present to stare in astonishment.
Even Conquest, who had known Thragg for millennia, had never witnessed him laugh.
As his laughter subsided, Thragg reached out and ruffled Oliver's hair with genuine affection. "No, young one," he said, his voice carrying a warmth few had ever heard from him. "We will go and fight."
Internally though, a more calculating pattern of thoughts was blooming, thinking how fast he could conquer this world,
to still have the boy as part of the family - not willing to part with one he has grown to care for, no matter how short the time together.
Oliver beamed up at him, clearly pleased to have amused his uncle, completely oblivious to how he just made the Emperor completely decisive in his willingness to conquer this world.
Thragg turned to address the group, his expression returning to its normal state, though perhaps with a subtle softening around the eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Prepare for departure," he commanded. "We will confront these variants Marks at their gathering point before they can disperse across the city."
As the others moved to comply, Levy provided the exact coordinates for the warehouse where the evil Invincibles had gathered.
Thragg, Amanda, Royal Mark, Royal Eve, Original Mark, Original Eve, Nolan, Conquest, and Roberta formed up near the exit, ready to depart.
Just before they took flight, Thragg paused to deliver a final instruction that sent a chill down most of their spines.
"If any of you wish to test yourselves against one of these variants," he stated matter-of-factly, "you will need to act quickly. Once I have eliminated the first dozen or so, I will proceed to dispatch any that remain. Do not waste time if you desire the experience."
The casual confidence with which he spoke of eliminating multiple Viltrumite-level threats - as if discussing nothing more challenging than a mild workout -
reminded everyone present of exactly who and what Thragg was: not merely an emperor, not merely a conqueror, but the single most powerful being in the universe.
As they took to the air, Royal Mark exchanged glances with Royal Eve, both thinking the same thing: they were really lucky that Thragg had chosen the peaceful approach rather than the more destructive one.
That he had found, somewhere in his ancient soul, the wisdom Argall had seen in him millennia ago.
Because soon, all will see why The Emperor is called the Terror of the Universe.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
I have been thinking of making Amanda stronger, since well, sure she is quite strong as she was, but she still needed to be stronger and unlike Roberta who has basically infinite potential like Thragg, Amanda needed an upgrade so here we are.
Do tell me how you found it and I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)