The night sky above Chicago held its breath as two versions of the most powerful being in universe faced each other.
Emperor Thragg, the Battle Beast coat flowing regally around his shoulders, regarded his counterpart with clinical detachment.
Grand Regent Thragg, clad in same uniform - the only difference being wearing the sash-like red coat instead of the Battle Beast one - returned the scrutiny.
Though identical in appearance, subtle differences marked them - the Emperor carried himself with a presence that spoke of absolute certainty, while the Grand Regent's posture held a rigid formality that bordered on tension.
For a long moment, neither spoke. They studied each other as only beings of their caliber could - analyzing not just physical characteristics, but the very essence of what made them different across realities.
Finally, Emperor Thragg broke the silence. "It seems you have not come alone."
As if summoned by his words, forty-four white-clad figures descended from the clouds, arranging themselves in perfect formation behind Grand Regent Thragg.
The last remnants of the Viltrum Empire in this reality, each bearing the unmistakable pride and power of their race.
General Kregg - this world's version - moved to stand beside his Grand Regent, his scarred face set in fierce loyalty. "Of course not. We would never forsake our ruler."
"Neither would we."
The words came from above, carrying across the night air with quiet certainty. Nolan descended through the clouds, his presence somehow both humble and commanding.
Behind him came Mohawk Mark, Viltrumite Mark, Royal Mark, Original Mark, Roberta, and Conquest, each taking position behind Emperor Thragg with practiced precision.
Silence fell once more, heavier than before.
Two forces representing fundamentally different interpretations of Viltrumite power and purpose, facing each other in the dark skies above an unsuspecting city.
The tension built as seconds stretched into minutes, neither side willing to break the fragile peace, yet both prepared for its inevitable shattering.
Grand Regent Thragg finally broke the silence, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "Conquest delivered your message." His eyes narrowed slightly. "You find my methods... lacking?"
Emperor Thragg's gaze swept across the cityscape below, taking in the sprawling metropolis with its millions of unaware inhabitants. His gesture encompassed not just Chicago, but the world at large.
"Look around you," he stated, his deep voice resonating with imperial authority. "This world remains unconquered, not elevated, not evolved. There is no peace here - only chaos masked as order."
He turned his penetrating gaze back to his counterpart. "Your Nolan, slaughtering thousands, instilling fear that breeds only resistance. Your Anissa, failing to sway Mark through methods that speak more of desperation than strategy. And Conquest..."
His eyes flickered briefly to the scarred warrior standing behind him. "Sending a mad dog with no true parameters, allowing him to rampage without purpose or direction. All of it speaks to a fundamental failure of leadership."
The assembled Viltrumites shifted uneasily at these words, though none dared interrupt.
"You should have acted as I did," Emperor Thragg continued, his voice hardening.
"Personally. Directly. With clear purpose and vision. Instead, you sit upon a cold throne, distant and ineffective, delegating tasks that demand an Emperor's direct attention."
His final words fell like thunder in the night sky: "Argall - our father - would see you as a disgrace."
The effect was immediate. Grand Regent Thragg's usually impassive expression contorted with fury.
His fists clenched at his sides, generating a shockwave that made his followers stumble in the air, though they quickly recovered their positions.
"You rage like an undisciplined child in front of truth," Emperor Thragg commented, unmoved by the display. "No wonder you remain merely Grand Regent, unacknowledged by Argall's blood as Emperor, unlike myself."
The words brought sudden stillness to the assembled Viltrumites. Grand Regent Thragg's rage gave way to confusion, an emotion rarely seen on his features.
"What do you mean?" this world's Kregg demanded, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Have you found Argall's blood?"
"Yes," Emperor Thragg confirmed simply. "Nolan is the biological son of Argall."
The revelation hit the assembled Viltrumites like a physical blow. Murmurs of shock and confusion rippled through their ranks, the perfect formation wavering as they processed this information.
"Impossible," Kregg snarled, though uncertainty had crept into his voice. "Nolan is a traitor to the Empire!"
"No," Emperor Thragg corrected, his tone carrying absolute certainty. "It is because you have failed to uphold Argall's wise ways that his blood has forsaken you. Your Empire clings to outdated methods, forsaking evolution for mere tradition."
Nolan stepped forward then, his presence drawing all eyes. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of both heritage and choice.
"My Emperor - my older brother - has upheld our Father's ways. That is why I did not desire the throne, as I am not suited to rule as he is."
His gaze fixed on Grand Regent Thragg, carrying not hatred but something perhaps more cutting - disappointment. "But I cannot say the same for you. All I see is a pale imitation of my Emperor."
The words hung in the air like physical things, their weight pressing down on all present. Two versions of the same mighty being, divided not just by normally universes, but by fundamentally different understandings of power and purpose.
And between them, the legacy of Emperor Argall - a legacy that would determine the fate of not just this world, but in the future countless others across the multiverse.
Grand Regent Thragg's eyes narrowed dangerously, his voice carrying a deadly calm. "You claim he is Argall's son? Where is your proof?"
"The proof," Emperor Thragg replied, "lies who we are. As you clearly see, In my reality, I rule as Emperor. You know we would not do this without truly knowing our father's wants.
We have both sought his blood for millennia and I have found it in Nolan. The Empire I rule thrives, expanding not through mere conquest but through elevation."
He gestured to those who stood behind him. "Look at these variants of Mark Grayson - Argall's grandsons. In their worlds, leadership like yours led only to destruction and chaos.
Yet in my world, Mark serves the Empire willingly, understanding the true purpose of Viltrumite power."
"And what purpose is that?" Grand Regent Thragg demanded, though something in his voice suggested he already feared the answer.
"The same purpose Argall envisioned," Emperor Thragg stated. "Not domination for its own sake, but the elevation of all species to their highest potential. Strength tempered by wisdom. Power guided by purpose."
His penetrating gaze swept across the assembled Viltrumites. "How many worlds have you conquered, only to leave them in ruins? How many species have you subjugated, only to watch them wither under oppression? Is this the legacy Argall intended for his Empire?"
The questions struck home. Several of the forty-four warriors exchanged uncertain glances, their absolute faith in their leader showing the first cracks of doubt.
"You speak of Argall as if you knew him better than me," Grand Regent Thragg growled, though his voice held a note of defensive anger. "You are merely another version of me, nothing more."
"No," Emperor Thragg corrected, his voice carrying a weight of certainty that made even his counterpart pause. "I am what you could have been, had you not lost your way. I am what Argall saw in us when he chose to raise us as his son."
He took a step forward in the air, his Battle Beast coat rippling in the night breeze. "The question now is simple: will you continue down this path of stagnation, or will you acknowledge the truth before you?"
Grand Regent Thragg's response came not in words but in action. With blinding speed, he launched himself at Emperor Thragg, his fist aimed directly at his counterpart's face.
Emperor Thragg didn't move, didn't flinch. Instead, he caught the Grand Regent's fist with casual ease, the impact creating a shockwave that rippled through the night sky.
"As I said," Emperor Thragg stated calmly, still holding his counterpart's fist. "Undisciplined. Reactive rather than strategic. You attack out of emotion rather than purpose."
The air around them began to vibrate as both beings exerted their power. The very atmosphere seemed to bend under the pressure of their combined strength.
"You dare lecture me about purpose?" Grand Regent Thragg snarled, throwing his other fist forward. "I have maintained the Empire's strength for millennia!"
Emperor Thragg caught the second fist as easily as the first. "Maintained? No. You have preserved it in amber, letting it grow stagnant and brittle. The Empire is not meant to simply endure - it is meant to evolve."
Behind them, the two groups of Viltrumites tensed, ready to join the battle. But before they could move, Emperor Thragg's voice rang out:
"Stand down. All of you."
To everyone's surprise, both groups obeyed instinctively - even the Grand Regent's followers responding to the sheer command in his voice.
"This is between us," Emperor Thragg continued, his grip on Grand Regent Thragg's fists tightening incrementally. "As it should be."
The battle erupted with explosive force. Grand Regent Thragg wrenched his hands free and unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike carrying enough power to shatter worlds.
Emperor Thragg met him blow for blow, their fists colliding in mid-air with thunderous impacts that sent shockwaves across the Chicago skyline.
The two titans moved with identical precision, their combat styles mirror images of each other.
Every punch, every kick, every movement was executed with millennia of experience behind it. The air itself seemed to crack under the force of their exchange.
"They appear evenly matched," Viltrumite Mark observed, his eyes tracking the blur of motion above them.
The Battle Beast coat and red sash became indistinguishable streaks as the two Thraggs traded blows at speeds that defied comprehension.
Mohawk Mark shook his head, his expression troubled. "No... something's wrong. Really fucking wrong. This isn't right at all."
A particularly vicious exchange sent both combatants spiraling through the air. Grand Regent Thragg's fist connected with Emperor Thragg's jaw, snapping his head back.
In return, Emperor Thragg drove his knee into his counterpart's solar plexus, sending him crashing through a cloud bank.
"What do you mean?" Royal Mark asked, glancing at Mohawk. "They're both Thragg. Shouldn't they be equal?"
"Equal?" Mohawk's laugh held no humor. "I've seen the Emperor's soul. He's dozens of times more powerful than this Thragg. This doesn't make any sense."
Above them, the battle continued. Grand Regent Thragg emerged from the clouds with renewed fury, his hands clasped together in a hammer blow that caught Emperor Thragg in the chest. The impact sent the Emperor plummeting toward the city below.
At the last moment, Emperor Thragg recovered, the Battle Beast coat whipping around him as he arrested his fall mere feet above a skyscraper.
He spat blood to the side - he'd bitten his tongue from the impact.
"What is he planning?" Mohawk muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the Emperor's face.
Then he saw it - a smile. Not the cold, calculating expression they were accustomed to from their Emperor, but something savage and anticipatory.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, yet his eyes held a predatory gleam that sent chills down Mohawk's spine.
"Oh no," Mohawk whispered, realization dawning. "He's... He's actually playing with him."
The Emperor launched himself back into the fray, meeting Grand Regent Thragg's charge with one of his own.
Their collision split the clouds above Chicago, the sound of their impact rolling across the city like thunder.
But now that Mohawk had seen it, he couldn't unsee it - the subtle tells in Emperor Thragg's movements, the way he was deliberately matching his counterpart's speed and power rather than overwhelming him.
The savage smile that grew wider with each exchange.
The Emperor was toying with his prey, and only Mohawk, who understood his true power better than most,realised the terror that was about to be unleased.
For the Emperor was enjoying himself.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
So, why is the Emperor playing with the Grand Regent? Is it merely for fun or is there a deeper purpose behind it? And what could this deeper purpose be?
(Do understand I as the author, if I write something deeper behind actions, that I hint it in at least 20-30 chapters ago, so what do you think - if there is a purpose behind this - the purpose to be).
Well, I hope to see you all next chapter,
Bye!)