"Not only will this preserve Viltrum's lives. The coalition of planets are already afraid of us. Just think what will happen when we unleash these abominations on them!" Thragg said as he cracked his knuckles, creating a sharp sound that made his General flinch.
'Not even war pieces... but abominations? So be it. He doesn't even see them as living beings anymore. They have become war pieces of abominations on his war table. Those halfbloods never stood a chance from the beginning. The moment they fell into Thragg's hands, their lives were already planned.' General Kregg nodded in thought and let out a sigh. Whatever and wherever his Grand Regents point, so will be the direction of Viltrum.
He turned dramatically, gesturing for Kregg to follow as they moved toward the royal balcony overlooking the vast Viltrumite empire, planets glittering like jewels strewn across velvet darkness.
Thragg seized Kregg's shoulders, grip almost painfully firm, eyes blazing. "Think, Kregg! Think! Elite disposable troops, specialized in advanced tactical warfare, each carrying within their veins unique mutations. Imagine controlling, breeding, and perfecting such an unstoppable force!"
Kregg shivered internally at the ruthless enthusiasm pouring from Thragg, recognizing the cold brilliance of his leader's monstrous vision. Those halfbloods were no longer beings—they had become mere weapons, pawns on a universal chessboard. A chessboard owned by the Grand Regent.
The crack of Thragg's knuckles echoed harshly, drawing Kregg's gaze sharply upward. "Soon Thaddeus's head will grace my trophy hall," Thragg murmured darkly.
Turning abruptly, Thragg moved back toward his throne. "Send deployment orders to Nolan. Assign him another conquest mission."
"To… experiment further? More mutations?" Kregg ventured cautiously.
Thragg paused at his throne, eyes glinting cruelly. "Precisely."
Kregg bowed deeply, heart heavy yet resolute. "As you command, Grand Regent."
'I don't know what the Grand Regent is planning, but I will plot a course for a distant planet, nothing special, but I do hope something more comes out from it… Hmm… what about Earth?' Kregg thought on his way out. He had an extensive knowledge of planets with intelligent life, almost down to a T and could name a few hundred with ease and their star system characteristics. Pointing out that something like Earth was no groundbreaking feat for him, it was just another planet with intelligent lifeforms.
He exited swiftly, leaving Thragg alone on his throne, eyes fixed coldly forward, plans unfolding within his brilliant, merciless mind. The seeds he had sown would soon blossom into a new terrifying era—a Viltrum Empire unlike any the universe had known.
Above the distant cosmos, planet Viltrum shone like polished marble suspended in the eternal night. Swarms of Viltrumites, gliding effortlessly across crystalline skies, moved with disciplined productivity. Like bees around their hive, they moved with calculated precision, fulfilling their duties with quiet devotion to the Empire's relentless machinery.
Within the imposing walls of the Viltrumite Deployment Centre, Nolan stood rigidly at attention in his white uniform, eyes scanning the official mission documents with practiced intensity. The air was sterile, tinged faintly with the metallic scent of data pads and cooling systems. Around him, enormous screens flickered, rapidly processing and displaying an ocean of strategic information.
As Nolan reviewed his assignment, General Kregg's stern voice echoed in his memory, resonating with urgency: "Take this mission very seriously, Nolan. The planet you're assigned to is free from the Coalition's watchful eyes—ripe for conquest. Failures are not tolerated."
Nolan sighed inwardly, casting his gaze through the massive glass doors of the Deployment Center. Viltrum, bathed in a golden-orange glow, sprawled majestically before him. This sight, so familiar, would soon fade into distant memory. The comforts he took for granted—the luxurious, streamlined buildings, effortless technology, and the harmonious hum of hyper-advanced civilization—would give way to a primitive world still shackled to fossil fuels.
"Primitive," Nolan murmured softly, almost bitterly, to himself. He poured himself a chilled glass of Reihka—a drink renowned for sharpening senses and invigorating stamina for long interstellar journeys—and sipped slowly, feeling its potent chill burn down his throat like liquid ice.
Across the room, surrounded by softly pulsing holo-screens, Maya meticulously charted Nolan's travel coordinates. She was an engineering prodigy like Nolan, known as much for her eccentricities and unparalleled brilliance. She was basically your average mad scientist who still has their marbles together, somehow. Her nimble fingers danced across floating holographic projections, plotting trajectories through gravitational wells of distant star systems that would accelerate Nolan's journey.
"Your path is set," Maya finally declared, eyes never leaving her calculations. "Shortest possible trajectory, accounting for gravitational assists—just as you like it."
Nolan smiled faintly, stretching out a hand. "Thanks, Maya. I appreciate your help."
She paused, eying his hand skeptically, a playful smirk pulling at her lips. "Really, Nolan? Mister 'Don't touch my workspace' himself is offering a handshake? You know how much you complain about messes." Maya was always in a perpetual state of work dirt. Seeing her clean without grime meant that there was a special occasion on Viltrum or some order from the Grand Regent.
Nolan chuckled, hand still outstretched. "Come on, it's just a handshake. Besides, space travel will sanitize anything."
Maya rolled her eyes theatrically, grasping his hand firmly. "Fine, safe travels, clean freak."
He turned to leave, but Maya abruptly threw a metallic, paper-thin platform onto the polished floor in front of him. Nolan eyed it curiously.
"Push off from that when you're ready," she said, turning away with a jingle of tools tucked in her lab coat.
Trusting her implicitly, Nolan stepped onto the platform and pushed off with calculated force. A seismic shockwave resonated through the structure, vibrating glass panels as Nolan surged skyward at breathtaking speed.
"Maya!" Nolan shouted joyfully over his comm-link. "This boost platform is incredible!"
"You're welcome," she replied dryly without glancing back, engrossed in the data streaming onto her holographic tablet.
"Say less, Nolan." Maya concluded as she let her tablet dissipate into pixels and pocketed her hands, walking away from the scene.
Moments later, as Nolan pierced Viltrum's atmosphere and sailed into the silent void, unseen disturbances rippled across Viltrum's bustling skies. Tiny orbs, shimmering with otherworldly light, emerged silently from flickering interdimensional portals, hovering discreetly above the bustling civilization below. These were Angstrom's cameras.
Far away, in a hidden command chamber, Angstrom Levy's eyes widened in alarm at the streaming feed from these mysterious devices. His voice erupted in disbelief. "FIFTY! You swore there were only fifty Viltrumites left, Mark!"
Mustache Mark, arms crossed defiantly, retorted confidently, "There were fifty—exactly fifty. I counted them myself."
Levy's fingers dug into his temples, frustration building. "I must be losing my mind, then! Because the feed clearly shows far more than your precious fifty. Count them again!"
Mustache Mark fell into bitter silence. Beside him, Long Hair Mark sighed dramatically. "Maybe there are seventy, maybe even a hundred. So what? The strategy doesn't change. We're ahead of schedule. You literally shit portals for fun—what's there to fear?"
Caped Mark raised an eyebrow. "Swearing doesn't strengthen your point, you know."
"Shut it, cape-boy!" Long Hair Mark lunged at Caped Mark, their scuffle erupting into childish chaos.
"Enough!" Viltrum Mark commanded, stepping forcefully between the two fighting variants, eyes glowing with fierce authority. "We follow the plan. We sell credible intel to the Coalition as their so-called informants. Earn their trust. Tip off Viltrum anonymously. Bim bam boom, then, nature takes its brutal course."
Levy stared thoughtfully, calculating silently. A new dimension was one thing, but now—due to a temporal miscalculation—they were years in the past, long before their current reality's Mark Grayson was even born. A shiver ran down Levy's spine. This single mistake could redefine history itself.
He sighed deeply, nodding slowly in reluctant agreement. "Fine. We'll proceed with Viltrum Mark's plan."
Caped Mark flashed a smug smile at Long Hair Mark, whose enraged roar echoed across the room as he tackled Caped Mark once again.
"Fucking Viltrumites," Levy muttered darkly, reclining exhaustedly in his chair. His eyes narrowed, fixated on the distant screen, as he contemplated the chaos he had willingly summoned. The universe itself was now a chessboard, and he was caught in a perilous game of deception and power.
But who, he wondered, would be the first pawn to fall?
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