The air over Chicago was heavy with the promise of rain, gray clouds churning like a warning. Mark Grayson, in his Invincible suit, hovered above the city, his goggles reflecting the dim city lights. Beside him, Saitama floated effortlessly, his yellow tracksuit untouched by the wind. They'd been patrolling for hours, chasing rumors of Viltrumite activity posted on X. After the Canadian dragon fight and the Viltrumite skirmish, Mark's nerves were frayed. Every shadow felt like a threat, every gust a Viltrumite ambush.
"You're tense," Saitama said, chewing a protein bar he'd pulled from his pocket. "Relax. Punching's easier when you're not clenched up."
Mark shot him a look. "Easy for you to say. You flicked a Viltrumite into space. I'm still sore from getting tossed around."
Saitama shrugged. "Pain's a good teacher. You're tougher than you think."
Mark wanted to believe him, but doubt gnawed at his core. His dad's betrayal, the Guardians' deaths, Thragg's attack, and now more Viltrumites—it was too much. Saitama's training had made him stronger, but Viltrum wasn't just strong. They were relentless, strategic, and patient. And Mark was running out of time.
A low hum cut through the air, like a tuning fork struck deep underground. Mark tensed, scanning the skyline. "You hear that?"
Saitama tilted his head. "Yup. Sounds like trouble."
Before Mark could respond, a silver Viltrumite ship decloaked above Lake Michigan, its hull pulsing with blue energy. A hatch opened, and a single figure descended—a Viltrumite woman, tall and imposing, with short-cropped hair and armor scarred from countless battles. Her eyes locked onto Mark, cold and calculating.
"Invincible," she said, her voice carrying over the wind. "I am Anissa, general of Viltrum's third legion. Your resistance ends tonight."
Mark's heart pounded. "You guys don't quit, do you? What's the plan this time—more punching?"
Anissa's lips twitched, not quite a smile. "No. This time, we talk."
Saitama raised an eyebrow. "Talk? Lame. I was hoping for a fight."
Anissa ignored him, her focus on Mark. "Viltrum offers you a choice, half-breed. Join us. Embrace your heritage. Rule Earth as its protector under our banner."
Mark's jaw tightened. "You mean betray my planet like my dad did? Hard pass."
Anissa's eyes narrowed. "Nolan was weak. He let sentiment cloud his duty. You can be better. Stronger. Viltrum will make you a god among men."
Saitama yawned. "God stuff's overrated. You got any snacks on that ship?"
Anissa's gaze flicked to him, irritation flashing. "You, anomaly, are a curiosity. But your power is irrelevant without purpose. Viltrum offers order. Stability. You could serve a greater cause."
Saitama scratched his nose. "I'm more into hot dogs than causes. Pass."
Mark stepped forward, fists clenched. "You're wasting your breath. Earth's not yours to 'order.' We'll fight you—every time."
Anissa's expression hardened. "Then you choose extinction."
She raised a hand, and the ship's weapons hummed, targeting the city below. But before she could signal, a sonic boom shook the air. Another Viltrumite—Thragg, the scarred commander from the warehouse fight—landed beside her, his presence like a storm front.
"Enough talk," Thragg growled. "The boy's useless. Kill them both."
Mark braced himself, but Saitama just sighed. "You guys are so predictable."
The fight erupted like a supernova. Thragg charged Saitama, his fists a blur of Viltrumite rage. Saitama dodged with infuriating ease, weaving through punches that cratered the rooftop below. Anissa targeted Mark, her speed overwhelming. She grabbed his arm, twisting it until he yelped, then hurled him into a water tower, which burst in a geyser of metal and spray.
Mark staggered to his feet, pain searing his shoulder. "Okay… that hurt."
Anissa advanced, relentless. "You're no Viltrumite. Just a child playing hero."
Mark gritted his teeth, Saitama's training kicking in. Patience. Find the moment. He ducked her next strike, landing a jab to her ribs that made her grunt. She retaliated with a backhand, but Mark rolled with it, using the momentum to slam his knee into her jaw. Anissa stumbled, surprised.
"Not bad, kid!" Saitama called, casually blocking Thragg's sonic scream with a raised hand. "Keep it up!"
Thragg roared, grabbing a steel beam and swinging it at Saitama. The bald hero caught it, bent it into a U-shape, and tossed it into the lake. "You're gonna have to do better than that."
Mark's fight wasn't going as smoothly. Anissa's strength was crushing, her technique flawless. She pinned him against a billboard, her fist raised to end it—when Eve's voice cut through the chaos.
"Mark, duck!"
A pink energy construct slammed into Anissa, knocking her back. Eve landed beside Mark, her suit glowing. "You okay?"
"Barely," Mark gasped. "Where's the rest of the team?"
"On their way," Eve said, raising a shield as Anissa recovered. "Robot's got drones en route."
Anissa sneered, brushing off dust. "Your friends won't save you. Viltrum's will is absolute."
Saitama, still toying with Thragg, chuckled. "You guys love talking about your will. Ever try therapy?"
Thragg's response was a punch that would've leveled a city block. Saitama caught it, yawning, and flicked Thragg skyward. The Viltrumite vanished into the clouds, leaving a sonic boom in his wake.
Anissa seized the distraction, lunging at Saitama. She landed a hit—her fist connecting with his chest, the shockwave rattling windows across the city. Saitama didn't budge, but his protein bar fell to the ground.
He looked down, frowning. "That was my last one."
Anissa froze, sensing the shift. Saitama's eyes narrowed—not angry, but annoyed. He tapped her forehead, and she rocketed through a skyscraper, crashing into the lake with a colossal splash.
Mark blinked. "You're scary when you're hungry."
Saitama sighed, picking up the crumbled bar. "Waste of a good snack."
The Teen Team arrived, jetpacks and drones cutting through the smoke. Rexplode blasted a nearby car for no reason, shouting, "Where's the party?" Dupli-Kate's clones swarmed the area, securing civilians. Monster Girl, in her beast form, roared at the Viltrumite ship, which was powering up its weapons.
Robot's drone hovered beside Mark. "The ship's targeting civilian zones. We must disable it."
Saitama glanced up. "On it."
He leapt, a blur of yellow, and landed on the ship's hull. Alarms blared as he punched through the armor like it was tinfoil, ripping out a glowing core. The ship sputtered, then plummeted into the lake, sinking with a gurgle.
Mark stared, jaw slack. "You just… one-punched their ship."
Saitama landed, dusting his hands. "Yup. Kinda fragile for an alien war machine."
Thragg returned, crashing onto the rooftop like a meteor, bloodied but unbowed. "You think this stops us? Viltrum is eternal!"
Saitama sighed. "You guys need new lines."
Before Thragg could charge, Anissa emerged from the water, dripping and furious. "Enough games. We end this now."
Mark braced himself, but Saitama raised a hand. "Hold up. Let's make this quick."
He moved—faster than Mark could track—and tapped both Viltrumites. Thragg and Anissa collapsed, unconscious, their armor cracked like eggshells.
Silence fell, broken only by the distant wail of sirens.
Eve lowered her shield, stunned. "That… was anticlimactic."
Rexplode kicked a rock. "Baldy's no fun. Doesn't even let 'em fight back."
Saitama shrugged. "Fighting's overrated. Anyone got a snack?"
Later, at Teen Team HQ, the team debriefed around a holographic map. Robot's monitor displayed the sunken Viltrumite ship, now under Cecil's recovery team. "The vessel contained data on Viltrum's invasion plans," Robot said. "They're targeting Earth's heroes systematically, starting with Mark."
Mark's stomach twisted. "Me? Why?"
Eve frowned. "You're Nolan's son. A half-Viltrumite who rejected them. You're a symbol—and a threat."
Dupli-Kate nodded. "Plus, you're hanging with Saitama. They're obsessed with him."
Saitama, sprawled on a couch with a soda, burped. "Obsessed? They're just mad I keep winning."
Rexplode glared. "You're too chill, man. This is war!"
"War's boring," Saitama said. "Punching's better."
Monster Girl, back in human form, sighed. "He's got a point. But we need a strategy. Viltrum's not gonna keep sending small teams."
Mark stood, determination hardening his voice. "Then we hit them first. Find their base, their leaders—whatever it takes."
Robot's lenses zoomed. "A preemptive strike is risky. We lack sufficient data on Viltrum's forces."
Saitama grinned. "So we punch 'em till they talk. Easy."
The team exchanged uneasy glances, but Mark nodded. "It's a start. I'm done waiting for them to come to us."
Under the Pentagon, Cecil watched the fight footage, his jaw tight. Donald stood beside him, arms crossed.
"They're targeting Mark," Donald said. "He's not ready for this."
Cecil rubbed his temples. "He's got Saitama. That's more than Nolan ever had."
In his cell, Nolan smirked through the glass. "You're building your hopes on a boy and a drifter. Viltrum will crush them—and you."
Cecil didn't flinch. "We'll see."
But Nolan's words lingered, a seed of doubt. Saitama was unstoppable, but his apathy was a wildcard. What if he walked away?
On the Grayson roof, Mark and Saitama sat under a stormy sky, rain pattering on their shoulders. Debbie had left a note—Be safe. I love you.—and Mark clutched it like a lifeline.
"They're coming for me," Mark said quietly. "Viltrum. They want to break me."
Saitama leaned back, rain dripping off his bald head. "Let 'em try. You're not just some kid. You're Invincible."
Mark managed a weak smile. "You really think I can do this?"
"Yup," Saitama said, tossing him a protein bar. "You've got heart. That's more than those cape guys have."
Mark caught the bar, his resolve strengthening. "Then we keep fighting. Together."
Saitama nodded, staring at the clouds. "Together. But next time, I'm bringing an umbrella."
Lightning flashed, and far above, a Viltrumite ship watched, its cloaked hull a silent promise of war.
End of Chapter 9