Thragg stood at the foot of the hospital bed, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the sterile white floor.
The Battle Beast coat draped regally around his shoulders, its white fur contrasting sharply with the clinical environment of the medical bay.
Tarius, a Viltrumite officer more renowned for his scientific and medical expertise than his combat prowess (though still formidable by any non-Viltrumite standard), stood beside him, reviewing holographic data that floated above a small device in his palm.
"The procedure was successful, Emperor," Tarius reported, his voice carrying the precise diction of someone accustomed to delivering medical assessments.
"The patient's spinal cord has been fully regenerated using our cellular reconstruction technology.
Neural pathways have been reestablished at approximately 87% efficiency, which exceeds our initial projections."
He adjusted the holographic display, zooming in on a detailed image of vertebrae and nerve clusters. "With continued therapy, she should regain full mobility within two to three weeks. The paralysis has been completely reversed."
Thragg nodded, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts. "And her overall condition?"
"Stable and improving," Tarius replied. "The muscle atrophy was extensive due to prolonged immobilization, but our accelerated regeneration protocols are addressing that issue.
Her cardiovascular system shows signs of stress consistent with prolonged trauma, but that too is responding well to treatment."
War-torn Eve lay propped up against several pillows, her thin frame almost lost in the hospital gown that hung loosely from her shoulders.
Her eyes - alert and wary despite the exhaustion evident in the dark circles beneath them - moved between the two Viltrumites as they discussed her condition as if she weren't present.
"C-can I..." she began, her voice catching in her throat. The sound was still raspy, still unfamiliar even to her own ears after months of disuse. She swallowed painfully and tried again. "Can I... walk... soon?"
Thragg turned his attention to her, his gaze softening imperceptibly. "Yes. The damage has been repaired."
War-torn Eve nodded, relief washing over her features. Then, hesitantly, she raised a hand to touch her face, fingers tracing the network of scars that marred her once-smooth skin.
Her other hand moved to her hair - short, unevenly cut, growing back in patches where it had been cruelly shorn.
"The scars," she managed, her words halting and broken. "Can... remove? And... hair... make grow?"
Tarius looked confused by the request, glancing at Thragg for guidance. The Emperor turned his penetrating gaze on the medical officer, the question clear in his eyes though he spoke no words.
"Well, yes," Tarius replied after a moment, addressing Eve directly.
"Our dermal regeneration techniques could certainly address the scarring, and follicular stimulation would accelerate hair growth to any desired length. However..."
he hesitated, his professional concern evident, "you've just undergone a major neural reconstruction procedure.
Your body is still adapting to the cellular changes. It would be medically advisable to wait at least a few days before attempting further interventions."
"No," Eve said, her voice stronger now, almost desperate. "Now. Please... want it now."
Thragg studied her for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, in a movement that surprised both Eve and Tarius, he lowered himself to one knee beside her bed.
Even in this position, his massive frame allowed him to look down at her, but the gesture brought him closer to her eye level than he had been before.
With careful deliberation, he extended his hand toward hers, hovering just above her fingers - a silent request for permission.
Eve hesitated only briefly before grasping his massive hand with surprising strength, her thin fingers wrapping around his.
"Why?" Thragg asked, his deep voice gentler than Tarius had ever heard it. "Why is this so urgent to you?"
Eve's eyes flickered away, then back to his face. The internal struggle was visible in her expression - the desire to keep her pain private warring with the need to explain.
"Mark..." she began, the name itself seeming to cause her physical discomfort. "My world's... Mark. He didn't... like long hair. Said only... reason for it... sign of health."
She paused, gathering her strength, her grip on Thragg's hand tightening. "He... he cut it. When grew... too much. And..."
Her free hand moved unconsciously to trace one of the more prominent scars that ran from her collarbone up the side of her neck. "He... marked me. Said I... too beautiful."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, the words coming with visible effort. "Feared when... Viltrum came... stronger Viltrumites... want me. Said... keep me... not beautiful... until he stronger... than them all."
Thragg's jaw tightened, muscles flexing beneath his skin as rage flooded through him.
The hand not holding Eve's clenched into a fist at his side, knuckles whitening with the strain of contained fury.
Tarius took an involuntary step backward, recognizing the signs of the Emperor's rarely-seen but legendary anger.
The medical officer had witnessed Thragg's wrath only once in his centuries of service, and the memory of what had happened to those who had provoked it was enough to make him instinctively seek distance.
But Thragg, noticing Eve's eyes widen at his reaction, visibly forced the rage from his expression.
With obvious effort, he relaxed his clenched fist, his features settling back into their usual impassive mask, though a dangerous light still burned in his eyes.
"Rest now," he told her, his voice controlled once more. "I will ensure you receive the best care available. The procedures you request will be performed as soon as safely possible."
His hand squeezed hers gently. "You will be more beautiful than ever, if that is your wish."
Relief washed over Eve's face, and she nodded, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.
Thragg rose to his full height, turning to face Angstrom Levy, who had been standing silently at the back of the room throughout the exchange, respectfully keeping his distance.
"Angstrom," Thragg commanded, "open a portal to the second world. There are matters there that still require my attention."
Levy nodded, stepping forward and raising his hands. Green energy began to swirl between his palms, gradually expanding into a swirling vortex.
"No!" Eve cried out suddenly, her voice cracking with panic. She struggled to sit up straighter, wincing at the movement. "I... come with you!"
Thragg frowned, turning back to her. "That is not possible. You are in no condition for interdimensional travel.
Furthermore, the world I am returning to contains more than a dozen variants of Mark Grayson. I will not subject you to such an experience after what you have endured."
Eve's face paled at the mention of multiple Marks, but determination quickly replaced her fear. "I have you," she insisted, her broken speech gaining strength from her conviction.
"Feel safe... with you. Not safe... here... when you gone." Her eyes filled with tears as she added, "Please, dad... don't leave me here."
Thragg froze, genuine surprise crossing his features at the familial term. His penetrating gaze studied her intently, seeing beyond her words to the motivation behind them.
He recognized the maneuver for what it was - not malicious manipulation, but a desperate attempt to forge a connection that would ensure his protection, using knowledge of his relationship with her counterpart to sway his decision.
For a moment, he seemed about to refuse.
Then, with a resigned sigh that would have shocked anyone who knew him well, he approached the bed and carefully lifted Eve into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she weighed nothing.
"You do not need to call me that to secure my protection," he told her quietly, his deep voice rumbling through his chest against her ear. "My commitment to your safety is not conditional upon reciprocation of familial sentiment."
Eve stiffened in his arms, caught in her transparent attempt at manipulation. A flush of shame colored her cheeks as she slowly nodded. "Sorry," she whispered.
"It is... understandable," Thragg replied, the slight hesitation in his voice betraying how unfamiliar such words of comfort were to him. "Fear drives many actions."
With Eve securely in his arms, Thragg approached the swirling green portal that Levy had fully formed.
The dimensional traveler stepped aside respectfully, avoiding direct eye contact with the Emperor - a habit he had developed out of both fear and reverence.
"Maintain surveillance of this facility," Thragg instructed Tarius. "I expect a full report on her treatment options upon my return."
"Yes, Emperor," Tarius acknowledged with a formal bow.
Thragg stepped through the portal, the swirling energy enveloping them both.
The transition between dimensions was momentary - a brief sensation of weightlessness followed by a shift in atmospheric pressure and temperature.
As they emerged on the other side, Thragg immediately sensed something amiss in the air - a familiar energy signature that shouldn't have been present.
Without hesitation, he launched into flight, still cradling Eve protectively against his chest.
Noticing her shiver slightly at the sudden rush of cold air, Thragg instinctively accelerated the movement of his atoms,
generating heat that radiated from his body at a carefully controlled temperature - warm enough to keep her comfortable without risking harm.
Eve rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat strangely comforting despite the disorientation of interdimensional travel.
The Battle Beast coat provided additional insulation, its fur soft against her cheek.
They flew across a landscape that gradually transformed from urban sprawl to open countryside, then to desert.
In the distance, Thragg's enhanced hearing detected the unmistakable sound of combat - the thunderous impacts of Viltrumite-level beings exchanging blows.
More concerning was the sound that accompanied the impacts: Conquest's distinctive laugh, a sound Thragg knew intimately after millennia of commanding the ancient warrior.
But there was something off about it - an echo, as if two identical sounds were overlapping.
He already had his suspicions as he remembered the knowledge from his first life, but to be certain he won't make any assumptions yet.
As they approached the source of the disturbance, Thragg's suspicions were confirmed.
Below them, on a flat expanse of desert surrounded by rocky outcroppings, two figures battled in the air - both unmistakably Conquest, identical in their scarred visages and massive frames, differing only in subtle details of their uniforms.
More surprising still was the audience. Gathered on a nearby hill were the remaining evil variants of Mark Grayson, along with Royal Mark, Royal Eve, Original Mark, Original Eve and Nolan.
They sat or stood in small groups, watching the aerial combat with varying degrees of interest and excitement.
"What is the meaning of this?" Thragg called out, his voice carrying across the desert with commanding authority.
The effect was immediate. The battle halted mid-punch, both Conquests freezing in place as all eyes turned upward.
Royal Conquest, recognizing his Emperor, immediately backed away from his opponent and dropped to one knee in the air - a gesture of respect that looked oddly formal given their suspended position.
"Emperor," Royal Conquest acknowledged, head bowed.
The second Conquest - clearly this world's original version - remained hovering in place, his scarred face registering shock as he beheld Thragg for the first time.
His eyes widened, taking in the Battle Beast coat, the imposing stature, and the unmistakable aura of absolute authority that surrounded the Emperor.
"Grand Regent?" Original Conquest breathed, disbelief evident in his voice.
Below them, the assembled Marks and Eves had risen to their feet, all attention now focused on the Emperor and the woman he carried in his arms.
Royal Mark and Royal Eve exchanged glances, clearly recognizing that something significant had occurred during Thragg's absence.
The silence stretched, tension building as Original Conquest continued to stare, his expression shifting from shock to something more complex - a mixture of recognition, fear, and a warrior's assessment of a potential opponent.
Thragg's eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded this alternate version of his loyal general.
The similarities were striking, yet he could already detect subtle differences in posture, in the way this Conquest carried himself - less disciplined, more wild.
War-torn Eve trembled in Thragg's arms, her eyes fixed on the scene below - particularly on Original Mark,
whose appearance was painfully similar to the man who had tormented her for so long. She pressed herself closer to Thragg's chest, seeking the security his presence provided.
Thragg tightened his protective hold slightly, a silent reassurance that she was safe.
His gaze, however, remained fixed on the two Conquests before him, his expression unreadable as he contemplated this unexpected development.
The desert fell completely silent, the only sound the gentle whisper of wind across the sand as everyone waited for the Emperor's next words.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! Sorry for the short chapter again. I'm kinda busy right now with life, and well, had the idea, and wished to write it down before I forgot.
So yeah, Dark Mark is even more fucked up, but I found it logical he will be like that, since a guy willing to forcibly take Eve, seeing it as a right he has as he loves her (his own fucked up version of love),
and being a Viltrumite and all that, would also of course think about others taking her, stronger ones, have that paranoia and well, this fucked up thing came to mind.
Well, I really want to write Dark Mark getting killed again, but hey, sadly we can't get such a good thing twice.
So yeah, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)