(AN: I've been trying a new format of doing 10k chapters for this fic on my pat. Since that doesn't work well on here imma split them up. Enjoy.)
Viltrum.
The home of the mighty Viltrumites, a race of long-lived beings who stood at the very pinnacle of evolution, no, the pinnacle of life itself. Never had there been a species so perfect, and there likely never would be again. And of course, such a people could only come from a world that reflected their majesty. The planet was one of the system's few bodies, circling an O-type star, a blue sun that burned hotter and brighter than most others in the galaxy. Its brilliance was so fierce that even advanced civilizations found it impossible to approach without risk of annihilation. On Viltrum itself, the light scattered into deep indigo and violet shades, painting the sky with colors that made dawn and dusk unlike anything seen on other worlds.
By those who visited, Viltrum was known as the Shining World, not for the searing brilliance of its star, but for its cities. Towering spires of reflective silver rose as monuments to Viltrumite greatness, so tall they seemed at times to drift above the ground like floating citadels. In the light of day they shined, they truly shined, their surfaces catching the blue star's rays and casting them back in dazzling flashes that could be seen for miles across the plains.
Viltrumites were gods among men, and their world reflected that truth. No ordinary planet could have given rise to such a people. It was a place built on scale and grandeur, a home not merely suited to its inhabitants but worthy of their legend. To those who set foot there, it felt less like a world of mortals and more like a throne among the stars, a realm where power and perfection had shaped not only the people but the very land and sky. Viltrum was not simply a planet.
it was a home fit for gods.
At least those were the thoughts that General Krieg had as he looked out at the city from one of the numerous open balconies on the Spire of Sovereignty. It had been a few hours since the hybrid had come and presented himself before the court and yet he still found himself thinking on the topic. 'Mark Grayson...'
He saw insubordination.
He did not trust him.
He saw danger in him.
A hybrid Viltrumite was indeed powerful, Thragg had managed to bring them back from the point of annihilation by himself, even if weaker Mark Grayson should be capable of similar feats, but General Krieg wondered if that was a good thing. A blade honed on both edges was powerful, but just as likely to turn in the wielder's hand. He was a half-breed born of a world of weakness, carrying the blood of Viltrum but tempered by foreign softness. Krieg had seen warriors like that before, too much mercy in their nature, too much hesitation in their minds. They were all dead. You will never hear of a weak Viltrumite because there are none, they have all long since perished.
Mark was not weak, yet he was weak of mind, or character, he had more in common with the weaklings in the Green Lantern Corps and the Coalition than he did with them. Strength without character was no better than a weapon. What would be done when that weapon was pointed at them?
He was drawn out of his thoughts when a familiar figure landed on the balcony beside him. It was none other than Conquest, one of the most infamous Viltrumites to ever live. Like Mark, he too was a weapon, though this one was more predictable, a loyal beast that could be unleashed upon their enemies. In truth, General Krieg carried shame for the way he had handled Conquest. By the laws of their world, it should have been Conquest standing in his position. Few among their kind, even the eldest, could claim to match his strength. Yet he did not. He remained a warlord, nothing more.
Why?
Because Krieg had exploited the one weakness Conquest could never overcome. Companionship. Conquest was a mad dog who had driven himself into isolation. None wished to stand at his side, for none could know when he might tear them apart in some sudden fit of violence. To shun him for it was a cruel thing, but it was necessary, this way he could provide the comfort that the creature so desperately needed. A creature like Conquest could never be entrusted with command. He was the sword arm, the one who waged war. He was not the mind that shaped strategy or guided the empire. That could not be left in the hands of a rabid beast, no matter his power.
"My friend, you have come," General Krieg said.
Conquest bowed his head as he straightened, his one good eye fixed on General Krieg with a rare hint of reverence. "General I will always answer your call," he said. To most, he was a terror given flesh, a beast whose very presence demanded fear, but to Krieg he showed a loyalty that bordered on devotion.
"Have you punished Nolan yet?" Krieg asked, his eyes turning from the city to the towering figure before him.
Conquest's lip curled into something between a smile and a snarl. "Not yet. I will be the one to do it. No hand but mine will touch him."
Krieg gave a slow nod of understanding. "So be it."
The two stepped from the balcony and let the wind carry them. They drifted through the air with ease, as casual in flight as others were in walking, passing between the shining towers as the city stretched out beneath them. The light of the blue star flashed from every surface, reflecting across their armor as if the world itself acknowledged their presence.
Krieg broke the silence first. "You were present at the meeting. I want to hear your thoughts on the hybrid. On Mark Grayson."
Conquest's face hardened at the name, and his single eye burned with sudden anger. "Were he anyone else, General, I would have torn his head from his shoulders the moment he spoke. Such insolence does not go unanswered. The boy believes himself equal to us. He forgets what he is."
General Krieg inclined his head. "I agree."
He paused, his voice lowering as if weighed with the thought. "Mark Grayson is dangerous. He is power without control, a sword without a hilt. You may strike with it, but in time it will turn in your grasp, and when it does, it will cut just as deep into your own flesh. I fear that one day he will not stand with us, but against us. And when that day comes, all of Viltrum will feel the wound."
Conquest agreed. "But there is nothing to be done; Thragg has welcomed him and won't tolerate any moves being made on him."
Krieg inclined his head, then glanced around as if making certain no one watched. He turned, reached out, and drew Conquest upward. They rose without haste, cutting through the air until the city fell away and the towers became slim lines below them. Above the cloud layer the wind thinned and the blue star's light was cleaner. For a time they floated in that silence, two figures moving easily through an open sky.
"My friend," Krieg said at last. "I hope I can speak plainly with you."
"Of course," Conquest replied.
"I believe Mark Grayson will be a detriment to our race," Krieg said. "He must be eliminated."
Conquest did not hesitate. "I am of the same opinion. But what of the Grand Regent?"
Krieg's expression did not change. "I am worried he is blinded. Finding a fellow hybrid has left him unaware of the danger. He sees kin and forgets caution."
"That makes sense," Conquest said.
Krieg continued, quieter now, as if speaking to himself as much as to his colleague. "Besides, Mark Grayson has given us three children, two of whom are hybrids. We could shape them into warriors for our race. Loyal to Viltrum."
Conquest nodded. "That makes sense."
"Mark is a loss for our race," Krieg said. "But he m was never an ally. He just seeks to use us."
Conquest's jaw worked. "What shall we do then?"
"He is under your purview," Krieg said. "Do you believe you can kill him?"
Conquest's single eye held Krieg's without wavering. "He may be a hybrid, but he is newborn. From what I have heard he stands near Nolan's level in strength. I will crush him like an insect."
"Good," Krieg said. "Very good."
They flew in silence after that, the city a glimmer beneath the clouds, and Krieg let the thought of it settle into the place where plans are made. Viltrum would soon become the supreme race in the galaxy once more.
_____________________________________
While two of Viltrum's greatest plotted his ruin, said hybrid stood in one of the grandest rooms he had ever known, high in the Spire of Sovereignty. The Grand Regent Thragg had assigned him a suite among the finest, intended for him and his family. It contained private chambers for each of them and, in Mark's room, a single large bed should they ever wish to share it. The suite held comforts drawn from Earth and beyond; furnishings chosen for familiarity, systems that adjusted light and climate on command, a kitchen stocked with both Viltrumite provisions and foreign tastes, and automata to attend to every small need.
Harley had explored the place as if she were a child herself, wide-eyed at every detail. She moved from room to room, tugging open doors, running her hands along the strange materials, and marveling at conveniences she had never imagined could exist. Lucy rode on her shoulders the entire time, clutching her mother's hair for balance as she laughed without pause. To Lucy, it was all a playground, a world of endless doors and shining surfaces, and Harley let her treat it as such. They darted between chambers, the child's laughter echoing against walls, until even the servants stationed discreetly at the edges of the suite allowed themselves the faintest of smiles.
"Alright," Mark said at last, raising his voice just enough to carry over Lucy's giggles. "We can look around for a bit longer, but we need to get back to Galatea and Dante soon."
Kara nodded immediately. "He's right. We don't want to leave them waiting."
Anissa, standing near the wide balcony doors, turned from her watch of the city. "Before you go," she said, "you should consider changing into the clothing that has been provided for you. The Viltrumites will take you more seriously if you look as though you stand among them, not apart."
Mark gave a shrug. "Doesn't matter much to me. It's not like I brought a lot with me anyway." He turned toward his room and pushed the door open, finding the wardrobe stocked as promised. Nearly all of it was the same, Viltrumite uniforms. He pulled one free without much thought.
Behind him, a soft crack of displaced air signaled Raven's arrival. She stood just inside the room, Waylon in her arms, the boy clutching at her hair as she gently tried to pry his hands free.
"You're not getting changed?" Mark asked as he stripped off his shirt, glancing over his shoulder.
Raven's expression barely shifted. "Do you believe such an outfit suits me?"
Mark tugged the new tunic over his head, adjusting it across his shoulders. "I think you look good in white," he said simply. A grin tugged at his lips as he added, "You looked good in white on our wedding day."
For the first time, Raven's calm exterior cracked, a faint blush touching her cheeks. "I'll consider it," she murmured. "But for now, this will do."
Mark chuckled, stepping closer. "Fair enough." He leaned in and kissed her, before drawing back to spread his arms. "So? How do I look?"
Raven's eyes studied him for a moment before she nodded. "It suits you."
"Is the conqueror vibe turning you on?" Mark asked, teasing.
Raven allowed a small smile, then drove her fist lightly into his arm. The moment broke however when the sound of a gunshot cracked through the suite, echoing down the hall from the main room.
Mark burst into the main room so fast the door shattered against the frame, fragments scattering across the floor. His heart hammered, his thoughts fixed only on Lucy. But when his eyes took in the scene, he froze. Kara stood in front of Harley, her eyes burning red, heat vision seconds from release. Harley herself had a pistol drawn, the barrel still smoking, her hands trembling with rage. Across from them stood Anissa. The bullet that had struck her slid harmlessly from her forehead as Mark entered, clinking against the polished floor.
"What's going on here?" Mark demanded.
(AN: Hope you enjoyed.)
Support for more.
Patreon.com/captainalfieworks78