The night sky above the desert outside Chicago blazed with stars, their light undiminished by city glow.
In this barren expanse, Nolan Grayson faced his son - or rather, a version of his son who had made very different choices.
Omni-Mark hovered twenty feet away, his eyes burned with a hatred so intense it was almost palpable.
"I've dreamed of this moment," Omni-Mark said, his voice carrying easily across the empty space between them. "Facing you again. Finishing what I started."
Nolan studied him carefully, noting the subtle differences from his own Mark. This variant was more heavily muscled, his posture more rigid with military bearing.
His eyes held none of the compassion, none of the humanity that defined the Mark he knew.
"In your world," Nolan asked, "what happened between us?"
Omni-Mark's laugh was bitter, hollow. "You trained me from the moment my powers manifested - which was much earlier than most Marks.
You drilled Viltrumite superiority into me daily. You prepared me to help conquer Earth." His expression darkened. "And then, when the time came, you hesitated. You grew weak."
"So you killed me," Nolan stated, not a question but a confirmation.
"I did what was necessary," Omni-Mark replied, his voice hardening. "What you taught me to do. The weak must be culled so the strong can thrive. Isn't that the Viltrumite way?"
Before Nolan could respond, Omni-Mark attacked, crossing the distance between them with blinding speed. His fist connected with Nolan's jaw with a thunderclap of impact that echoed across the desert floor.
Nolan reeled backward, caught off guard by the ferocity of the attack. He recovered quickly, blocking the follow-up punch and countering with a strike of his own that sent Omni-Mark spiraling through the air.
"You fight like him," Omni-Mark spat, wiping blood from his lip as he stabilized himself. "Precise. Controlled. The same techniques my father used before I tore his heart out."
Nolan's expression remained calm, though his eyes betrayed a deep sadness. "Is that what you want? To kill me too?"
"What I want," Omni-Mark snarled, charging forward again, "is for you to fight back properly!"
Their fists collided in mid-air, the impact creating a shockwave that kicked up a dust cloud from the desert floor below.
------------------------
Miles away, over the calm waters of Lake Michigan, Conquest and Viltrumite Mark circled each other like predators.
The moon's reflection rippled on the water's surface beneath them, occasionally distorted by the shockwaves of their clashing powers.
"You wear the uniform," Conquest growled, his scarred face twisted in a sneer, "but do you truly understand what it means to be Viltrumite?"
Viltrumite Mark's expression remained coldly composed, his white uniform pristine in the moonlight. "I was raised in the heart of the Empire, trained by the elite guard. I know more of Viltrumite heritage than you could possibly imagine."
Conquest barked a laugh. "Words. Empty words from a child playing soldier."
They launched at each other simultaneously, their bodies colliding with a force that sent ripples across the lake below. Conquest's massive fist connected with Viltrumite Mark's jaw, while the younger warrior drove his knee into Conquest's abdomen.
Neither yielded, their hands locking together as they pushed against each other, testing raw strength against raw strength. Veins bulged on their foreheads as they strained, perfectly matched in this initial test of power.
"Not bad," Conquest admitted grudgingly. "You have some strength in you after all."
"I was bred for this," Viltrumite Mark replied through gritted teeth. "Every cell in my body engineered for combat excellence."
Their deadlock continued, neither gaining advantage until, with a sudden burst of force, they both went for the same tactic - a vicious headbutt. Their foreheads collided with a crack that echoed across the water.
Conquest reeled backward, momentarily dazed. Viltrumite Mark, though similarly affected, recovered a fraction of a second faster, pressing his advantage with a flurry of punches that drove Conquest down toward the lake's surface.
Just before impact, Conquest twisted away, leaving Viltrumite Mark to punch through the water with enough force to create a momentary chasm in the lake.
As water rushed back to fill the void, Viltrumite Mark rose again, floating above the churning surface. He spread his arms wide, looking at the moonlit landscape before him.
"Tell me," he called to Conquest, who was recovering his bearings nearby, "what is your Thragg like? The Emperor?"
------------------------
The abandoned quarry outside Chicago had become a battleground. Royal Mark and Sinister crashed into the stone walls, their impact carving new caves with each collision.
Dust and debris filled the air as they exchanged blows that would have shattered mountains.
"You're holding back," Sinister observed, his scarred face splitting into a grin that held no warmth. "Afraid to let the monster out? Afraid you might like it?"
Royal Mark circled warily, keeping his distance for the moment. This variant of himself was dangerous - not just physically powerful, but unhinged in a way that set off alarm bells in his mind.
"I'm not like you," Royal Mark stated firmly.
"Not yet," Sinister countered, his eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "But we all start somewhere. In my world, it began when I realized how easy it was. How simple to just... take what I wanted."
He launched forward suddenly, his fist connecting with Royal Mark's chest in a blow that cracked ribs.
Royal Mark countered with an uppercut that sent Sinister flying into the quarry wall, bringing down tons of rock.
Sinister emerged from the rubble, dusting himself off casually. "The first time is always the hardest, you know. That moment of crossing the line." His tongue darted out, licking blood from his split lip.
"For me, it was a villain who pushed too far. I didn't mean to kill him, not really. But then I felt his skull give way under my fist, felt the warm spray of blood..."
He closed his eyes, as if savoring the memory. "It was intoxicating."
Royal Mark's expression hardened with disgust. "You're sick."
"I'm free," Sinister corrected, his voice dropping to a confiding whisper. "Free from the chains of morality that hold you back. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To take a life and feel nothing but power?"
He attacked again, this time with a flurry of blows too fast for the human eye to follow. Royal Mark blocked most, but several connected, driving him backward into the quarry floor with enough force to create a crater.
Sinister landed beside him, placing a foot on Royal Mark's chest. "After that first kill, the rest came easier. Villains. Heroes who got in my way. Eventually..." His smile widened. "Eventually anyone who looked at me wrong."
Royal Mark grabbed Sinister's ankle and twisted violently, throwing him off balance. In the same motion, he surged upward, headbutting Sinister with enough force to crack the variant's nose.
Blood sprayed between them as they separated, circling again.
"You know what the best part is?" Sinister asked, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. "They taste just like chicken."
---------------------------
Nolan dodged another of Omni-Mark's attacks, their battle having moved across miles of desert.
The terrain below them was transformed - craters marking their impacts, trenches carved by bodies thrown at supersonic speeds.
"Why won't you fight me properly?" Omni-Mark demanded, frustration evident in his voice. "Stop holding back!"
"I'm not holding back," Nolan replied calmly. "I'm choosing not to kill you. There's a difference."
This seemed to enrage Omni-Mark further. He charged again, this time managing to grab Nolan in a bear hug, driving them both into the ground with catastrophic force. The impact created a crater fifty feet wide.
As dust settled around them, Omni-Mark pinned Nolan beneath him, his hands wrapped around the older Viltrumite's throat.
"He was weak," Omni-Mark hissed, his face inches from Nolan's. "My father. He spent years teaching me that Earth was nothing - that humans were livestock waiting for slaughter. Then when the time came, he couldn't do it."
Nolan remained calm despite the crushing pressure on his windpipe. "What happened?" he asked, his voice strained but steady.
Omni-Mark's grip tightened. "I was twelve when my powers manifested. From that day, he trained me relentlessly. No childhood. No friends. Just preparation for our great purpose - the conquest of Earth for the Viltrum Empire."
His eyes took on a distant look, lost in memory. "By sixteen, I was ready. We were to begin with the Guardians of the Globe, just as he'd planned. But when the moment came..."
His voice cracked slightly. "He looked at me and said he couldn't do it. That he'd grown to care for this world. That he wanted us to protect it instead."
Nolan used the momentary distraction to break Omni-Mark's grip, throwing him off with a powerful kick. They both rose to their feet, facing each other across the crater.
"And that made you angry enough to kill him?" Nolan asked.
"He betrayed everything!" Omni-Mark roared. "Everything he taught me! Everything I'd sacrificed for! He made me into a weapon and then told me not to strike!"
He attacked again, but this time Nolan was ready. He sidestepped the charge, using Omni-Mark's momentum to flip him over his shoulder and drive him into the ground.
"So you killed him," Nolan said, standing over the younger Viltrumite. "And then what? Did conquering Earth bring you the satisfaction you sought?"
Omni-Mark's response was another attack, blind with rage.
---------------------------
"Our Emperor," Conquest replied to Viltrumite Mark's question, "is the embodiment of Viltrumite perfection. Strength beyond measure, yet tempered with wisdom that surpasses any ruler in our history."
They circled each other above the lake, their earlier clash having established a wary respect.
"He conquered Earth himself?" Viltrumite Mark asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"In a single day," Conquest confirmed, pride evident in his tone. "Without spilling a drop of human blood.
He demonstrated such overwhelming power that resistance became unthinkable.
Then, rather than destroying, he elevated - bringing Viltrumite order and technology to improve human existence."
Viltrumite Mark's expression shifted to one of growing interest. "My world's Thragg is... different. Reactive rather than proactive.
He sits upon his throne, issuing commands but rarely acting himself. He sends underlings to conquer worlds while he remains distant, removed."
Conquest scoffed. "A pale imitation of the true Emperor."
"Perhaps," Viltrumite Mark acknowledged. "I've often wondered why. He possesses the same strength, the same potential, and yet..."
Their conversation was interrupted as Conquest launched a surprise attack, his fist connecting with Viltrumite Mark's jaw with enough force to send him spinning across the lake.
Viltrumite Mark recovered quickly, countering with a kick that caught Conquest in the ribs.
They exchanged a flurry of blows, each impact creating small sonic booms that rippled the water below. Neither gained a clear advantage, their skills too evenly matched for quick resolution.
After a particularly violent exchange that left both breathing heavily, they separated again, hovering a hundred feet apart.
"You fight well," Conquest acknowledged grudgingly. "Few can match me blow for blow."
Viltrumite Mark nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment. "I was trained by the best. But training can only compensate so much for natural ability."
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's the issue with my world's Thragg, I think.
He was born the strongest - blessed by the heavens themselves, honored by God with power beyond measure - yet he squanders it.
He doesn't understand that with such strength comes the duty to use it, to shape the universe directly rather than through proxies."
Conquest's scarred face showed surprise at this philosophical turn. "You speak almost like the Emperor himself."
"Do I?" Viltrumite Mark asked, a small smile forming. "Perhaps that's why I find myself intrigued by what Mohawk revealed.
To learn I am Argall's grandson gives me claim to the throne, yet..." He shook his head. "What good is a throne if one lacks the power to use it properly?"
He looked directly at Conquest, his expression resolute. "I want to meet your Thragg properly.
To serve an Emperor who truly embodies what Viltrum should be - not just conquest, but elevation. Evolution of all."
Conquest's response was another attack.
-------------------------
"You're a cannibal," Royal Mark stated flatly, disgust evident in his voice as he wiped blood from a cut above his eye.
Sinister shrugged, circling him with predatory grace. "Labels are so limiting. I prefer to think of it as... recycling. Why let all that protein go to waste?"
They clashed again, this time with Royal Mark taking the offensive.
He drove his fist into Sinister's stomach with enough force to double him over, then followed with a knee to the face that sent teeth flying.
Sinister spat blood, his grin now missing several teeth. "There it is," he said, satisfaction in his voice. "That rage. That violence. You're not so different from me after all."
"I'm nothing like you," Royal Mark growled, pressing his advantage with a series of punches that drove Sinister back.
"No?" Sinister taunted, blocking some blows while others connected with sickening impact. "Then why are you enjoying this so much?"
The question caught Royal Mark off guard, allowing Sinister to counter with a vicious headbutt that split the skin on both their foreheads.
Blood ran down their faces as they grappled, crashing through the quarry wall and into the adjacent hillside.
"I've killed hundreds," Sinister whispered as they struggled. "Men, women, children. Anyone who crossed me. Anyone who looked at me wrong."
His voice dropped lower, almost intimate. "And do you know what the best part was? The moment when they realized what was happening. When they saw what I really am."
Royal Mark broke free, putting distance between them. "And what's that?"
"The apex predator," Sinister replied, his eyes gleaming with madness. "The top of the food chain. The monster parents warn their children about."
He attacked again, this time catching Royal Mark with a blow that sent him crashing through several layers of rock. Royal Mark emerged, spitting blood, his uniform torn and dirty.
"You know what's funny?" Sinister continued, relentless in both his attacks and his psychological warfare.
"I started with villains. People everyone agreed deserved to die. Then heroes who got in my way. Then civilians who saw too much."
He dodged Royal Mark's counter-attack, laughing. "The first family I ate was an accident. I was hungry after a fight, and they were just... there. I was taught they were cattle for so long and well... Wrong place, wrong time."
Royal Mark roared in fury, tackling Sinister with enough force to drive them both deep into the earth. They emerged seconds later, grappling as they ascended into the night sky.
"Their daughter tasted the sweetest," Sinister whispered, his mouth close to Royal Mark's ear. "So tender. So-"
The rest of his words were cut off as Royal Mark's control finally snapped.
Nolan pinned Omni-Mark to the desert floor, the younger Viltrumite struggling futilely against his superior technique. Despite Omni-Mark's raw power and rage, Nolan's centuries of experience gave him the edge.
"Listen to me," Nolan commanded, his voice firm but not unkind. "Killing your father didn't bring you peace. Conquering Earth didn't fill the void. Nothing will, as long as you're driven by anger."
"What do you know about it?" Omni-Mark spat, still struggling.
"More than you might think," Nolan replied. "I once believed as you do - that Viltrumite superiority justified any action, that conquest was our birthright. I was wrong."
Omni-Mark stopped struggling, his eyes narrowing. "So you're just like him. Weak. Sentimental."
"No," Nolan corrected. "I'm stronger than I ever was as a conqueror. It takes more strength to protect than to destroy. More courage to love than to dominate."
Something flickered in Omni-Mark's eyes - a momentary crack in his hardened exterior. "He said something similar. Right before I..." His voice trailed off.
Nolan released him, stepping back. "Before you killed him."
Omni-Mark rose slowly, his posture no longer aggressive but somehow diminished. "He looked at me with such disappointment. Not fear, not anger. Just... sadness. As if I'd failed him somehow."
"You did," Nolan said quietly. "But not in the way you think. You failed to understand what he had learned - that there are things more valuable than power.
That connection, love, protection... these aren't weaknesses. They're the only things that give power meaning."
Omni-Mark's face contorted with a complex mixture of emotions - rage, confusion, and beneath it all, a grief so profound it seemed to physically weigh him down.
"I was a child," he whispered, his voice suddenly sounding much younger. "A child doing what I was taught. What I thought was right."
"I know," Nolan said gently.
"And now?" Omni-Mark asked, looking lost. "What am I now?"
Instead of answering, Nolan did something unexpected. He stepped forward and embraced Omni-Mark, holding him as a father would hold a son.
For a moment, Omni-Mark remained rigid in the embrace. Then, with a sound that was half-roar, half-sob, he collapsed against Nolan, years of buried grief finally breaking through.
"I killed him," he wept, his entire body shaking. "I killed my father. I killed him."
Nolan held him tighter, his own eyes damp. "I know, son. I know."
---------------------------
The battle between Conquest and Viltrumite Mark had escalated to new heights of violence.
The lake below them had been transformed - massive waves radiating outward from each impact, water displaced by the sheer force of their confrontation.
Despite the ferocity of their exchange, there was a strange respect developing between them. Each recognized in the other a worthy opponent, a true Viltrumite warrior.
"You fight like one born to battle," Conquest acknowledged after a particularly brutal exchange left both of them bleeding from multiple wounds.
"And you fight like the legends describe," Viltrumite Mark returned. "The stories of Conquest's ferocity are told even in my dimension."
They clashed again, this time with Conquest gaining the upper hand.
His centuries of experience allowed him to anticipate Viltrumite Mark's attacks, countering with precision strikes that gradually wore down the younger warrior's defenses.
A particularly devastating punch sent Viltrumite Mark plummeting into the lake, the impact creating a massive splash visible for miles.
Conquest followed, diving into the water to continue the battle beneath the surface.
Underwater, their movements were slightly slowed, but no less lethal. They exchanged blows that created pressure waves, fish floating dead in their wake as the concussive force ruptured their swim bladders.
Viltrumite Mark, running out of breath, attempted to surface, but Conquest grabbed his ankle, dragging him deeper.
The ancient warrior's grin was visible even in the murky depths - he had no intention of allowing his opponent to breathe.
But Viltrumite Mark had been trained for such situations. Instead of struggling upward, he reversed direction, driving his fist into Conquest's abdomen with enough force to expel the air from the older Viltrumite's lungs.
As bubbles escaped Conquest's mouth, Viltrumite Mark seized his momentary advantage, grabbing Conquest by the throat and shooting upward, breaking the surface of the lake with a massive plume of water.
They hovered above the churning surface, both gasping for air, their uniforms soaked and torn.
"Yield," Conquest demanded between breaths.
"Never," Viltrumite Mark replied, though his exhaustion was evident.
They charged each other again, their collision creating a thunderclap that echoed across the lake. This time, Viltrumite Mark managed to catch Conquest in a hold that immobilized the ancient warrior's arms, leaving him vulnerable.
"I could kill you now," Viltrumite Mark said, his voice strained with effort as he maintained the hold.
"Then do it," Conquest growled. "Finish it, if you can."
Viltrumite Mark's grip tightened momentarily, then, to Conquest's surprise, released entirely. He drifted backward, still in a defensive posture but no longer attacking.
"I don't want to kill you," Viltrumite Mark stated. "I want to serve alongside you. To learn from your Emperor. To be part of something greater than conquest for conquest's sake."
Conquest studied him warily, searching for deception and finding none. "Why should I believe you?"
"Because we both know I could have ended you just now," Viltrumite Mark replied simply. "And we both know you could have done the same to me several times during our battle. We've been testing each other, not truly trying to kill."
A slow, reluctant smile spread across Conquest's scarred face. "Perceptive. Most wouldn't have realized."
"I was trained to see beyond the obvious," Viltrumite Mark said. "To understand the deeper currents of battle."
Conquest nodded, a decision made. "The Emperor will determine your fate. If he finds you worthy, perhaps you will indeed serve alongside me."
"That is all I ask," Viltrumite Mark replied, inclining his head in a gesture of respect.
-------------------------
Royal Mark's rage had transformed him. Gone was the calculated fighter, replaced by something primal and terrifying.
He attacked Sinister with a ferocity that seemed to surprise even the cannibalistic variant.
Their battle had devolved into something barely recognizable as combat between sentient beings - more like animals tearing at each other with mindless fury.
They bit, clawed, headbutted, each blow carrying enough force to level buildings.
"Yes!" Sinister laughed through bloodied lips. "This is what I wanted! Show me what you really are!"
Royal Mark didn't respond with words. His fist connected with Sinister's jaw, dislocating it with a sickening crack.
Before Sinister could recover, Royal Mark followed with a knee to the stomach that doubled him over, then an elbow to the back of the head that sent him crashing to the quarry floor.
Sinister struggled to rise, spitting teeth and blood. "You can't kill me," he taunted. "You don't have it in you. Not really."
Royal Mark landed beside him, his expression cold with fury. "You're wrong."
He grabbed Sinister by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Sinister kicked and struggled, his dislocated jaw hanging at an unnatural angle.
"I can kill," Royal Mark said, his voice eerily calm despite the rage in his eyes. "When necessary. To protect others. To prevent greater harm."
"You can't. Not like this," Sinister managed to gargle through his damaged jaw. "Not in cold blood."
"This isn't cold blood," Royal Mark replied. "This is justice. For everyone you've murdered. Everyone you've... consumed."
Sinister's eyes widened as he realized Royal Mark was serious. He renewed his struggles, managing to break free with a desperate burst of strength. He stumbled backward, trying to put distance between them.
"Wait," he pleaded, his bravado suddenly gone. "We can talk about this. I can change. I can-"
Royal Mark was on him in an instant, tackling him with enough force to drive them both through the quarry floor and into the underground caverns beneath.
In the darkness, their struggle continued, punctuated by the sound of breaking rock and pained grunts.
When they emerged again, Sinister was clearly losing. His movements were sluggish, his attacks easily countered. Blood poured from multiple wounds, his uniform in tatters.
"Please," he begged as Royal Mark advanced on him. "Mercy."
"Did you show mercy to the family you devoured?" Royal Mark asked, his voice deadly quiet. "To the daughter you said tasted sweet?"
Sinister's eyes darted around, looking for escape. Finding none, he attempted one final attack, lunging at Royal Mark with the last of his strength.
Royal Mark sidestepped the clumsy assault, then, in a move of shocking brutality, seized Sinister's head between his hands. With a roar that echoed across the quarry, he twisted violently.
The sound of Sinister's neck breaking was like a gunshot in the night. But Royal Mark wasn't finished.
With a savagery that would have horrified his friends and family, he continued twisting until Sinister's head separated completely from his body.
Blood sprayed across Royal Mark's face and chest as he stood there, holding the severed head of his evil counterpart, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Slowly, awareness returned to his eyes. He looked at what he held, at what he had done, and for a moment seemed about to be sick. Then his expression hardened again.
"Justice," he whispered to himself. "Nothing more."
----------------------------
Back at the warehouse, the remaining evil variants watched nervously as Mohawk Mark descended from the sky, landing on the concrete floor with a heavy thud.
Behind him, he dragged two bodies - Phantom Mark and Maskless Mark, both clearly dead.
He dropped them unceremoniously at Thragg's feet, then knelt again, head bowed. "As you commanded, Emperor. Two of them, dead by my hand."
The other variants tensed, ready for battle or flight, but Thragg had made no move against them.
He sat on what appeared to be an improvised throne - a stack of shipping containers arranged to support his massive frame - watching the proceedings with clinical detachment.
Amanda stood to his right in her enhanced form, her green-tinged skin gleaming in the dim light of the warehouse.
Roberta positioned herself to his left, her analytical gaze sweeping over the assembled variants, calculating threats and possibilities.
Original Mark and Eve remained close to each other, their expressions troubled as they observed the evil versions of Mark. These were the paths not taken, the choices that could have led to darkness instead of heroism.
Suddenly, Thragg's eyes, which had been closed in apparent meditation, snapped open.
"They are done," he stated simply.
As if on cue, three figures appeared in the hole in the warehouse ceiling.
Nolan descended first, supporting a subdued Omni-Mark who appeared physically unharmed but emotionally devastated. His eyes were red-rimmed, his expression haunted.
Next came Conquest and Viltrumite Mark, both bearing the wounds of their battle but moving with mutual respect rather than hostility.
They landed on opposite sides of the warehouse, but without the tension that had marked their earlier confrontation.
Finally, Royal Mark returned alone, his uniform soaked with blood, his expression grim.
He carried something wrapped in the remains of his cape - a bundle that left little doubt as to Sinister's fate.
Thragg surveyed the returning combatants, noting the outcomes with a slight nod of satisfaction. "As expected," he murmured, rising from his makeshift throne.
The evil variants looked between themselves, uncertainty clear in their expressions.
With Mohawk's betrayal, Sinister's death, and the apparent defection of both Omni-Mark and Viltrumite Mark, their chances of success had diminished dramatically.
Thragg's gaze swept over them, his expression unreadable as he contemplated their fate.
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(Author note: So, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I know, it wasn't quite a focus on the fights, a lot of dialogue in it, but I found this more interesting, since Nolan never intended to kill Omni until he heard more about what happened.
Conquest was interested in Viltrumite Mark's potential after seeing his prowess, and his visions - though I will say Viltrumite is stronger than Conquest, not by a lot, but it is the case - I think it's fair, since Viltrumite killed Spawn.
Sinister, is not really comic accurate in the backstory sense, (Omni I don't know since I found no backstory),
Sinister I decided to make the Evil Variant that is the very essence of powerful evil counterparts, ones corrupted by power. I decided to make his and Royal's fight the most brutal, so hope you enjoyed that.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)