I have struggled countless times. I have injured people severely, shattered their bones, and harmed entire communities with my own hands. But this struggle? This frustrating struggle? It gets under my skin.
Invincible is lightning-fast. And even with "Killer Instinct" augmenting my reaction time, I'm having no luck keeping up with him. Every punch I land? Already being avoided. Every fake attack? Not falling for the bait. That little kid is getting clever. And worse than that—he's adapting.
My damage points rise when I am hit in the jaw area, and my heads-up display also flashes red warnings about minor damage. My damage points rise slightly. I'm doing badly; as this is just a slugfest in the middle of a field full of asteroids. That's no good.
Butcher's Voice: Pathetic. You have made this move before.
Like I give a shit.
I sidestep his second attempt, knock my knee into his gut, and grab hold. Lock. Hold fast. Mine. His writhing is in vain as I push both of us towards the large asteroid. I clasp him harder—if he gets away from me, I'll be the one enjoying the taste of asteroids.
I push him onto the asteroid and the blow causes the rock to disintegrate. BM gets up. Not by very much. And I continue moving.
I don't let him go just yet. I take him with me to the planet below—like a rocket that flies by fast, full of fury and dynamism, my shoulder propping him up into his back. It's fire all around us. If he attempts to scream, his sound gets washed away by the pace.
We hit the ground like a sledge hammer. It trembles. Dirt and dust spew out. Crevices open up beneath our pit. Nolan and Oliver's here. I can sense the terror in Nolan's voice before I even have eyes on him.
It was a good scare.
I release Invincible's shattered form and rise. It's all done. Finished. I have won—
"CONQUEST!"
What?
I turn, and there he is. Standing. Bleeding. Breathing.
Not possible. Not possible.
The Butcher's Voice laughs.
It's not mockery. Not pitying. It's hunger.
And I see why.
Invincible shouldn't be standing on his feet. He ought to be injured, wounded, and in the pit beneath us. But there he is, fists clenched, panting hard, eyes blazing with savage fury.
I punch. He punches. It shatters the air violently, shattering the ground beneath. My fists are quick, yet he maintains pace. No—he's stronger than I am.
Then he strikes so fast that I barely even glimpse him—grasp my robot arm.
No time to react. No time to stop him.
He gives a mighty roar and rips it off.
Pain. Actual pain. My nerves must still function thanks to Seamless Cybernetic, because my HUD starts shouting damage alerts around the injury. Sparks emit from the wound.
BM: x6.8
My DP increases, yet I do not complain. I am losing.
I stumble backward, unsteady. He comes toward me again, relentlessly, with no gentleness. I need more. I have to have something.
I open the Ledger. 100 million DP. That's a ridiculous price. It's a desperate option. It's a necessity.
I buy it.
"PRIMEVAL RESURGENCE ACTIVATED."
It's not just my arm. It's my eye. My body. Something burns inside me, something deep, something forgotten.
I move my fingers—my actual fingers. My strength returns, as if I were young again. My eyes become clearer than they have been in years.
Invincible hesitates. He hesitates.
This is all I need.
I punch his ribs with all my might. I hear crack. Energy surges out of the hit and crackles across the field. Invincible's eyes widen and his body trembles from the sheer force—
Yet far from falling, he leaps forward.
His hands grasp my neck tightly.
"I'm not letting go."
I grab onto his arm. He holds on harder.
Finally, after all these years, I am able to sense something new.
I feel human.
The truth hurts me more than all the other things. My body, for all its strength, is beginning to fail. I breathe fast, and my lungs hurt. My eyes are becoming blurred, my bones ache, and my muscles are all tightened up.
And Invincible?
He's still holding on.
"I thought I told you I'm not letting go." he growls, teeth bloodied, hands wrapped around my neck. His fingers dig deep into my skin, and I'm in pain. I'm retreating backwards, not even worrying about what I'm running into, trying to push Invincible away.
I strike my fist. My knuckles meet what remains of his ribs—grunted. My arm retracts once more, and I strike him—once more and once more and once more.
Then I give one final push.
Meat is being ripped apart. My fingers are lodged in him.
He guffaws. His frame rattles. His innards dangle from the gash, spilling onto my wrist, warm and slick.
But he continues holding on.
"You're… dead, Conquest," he breathes softly, his nose against my temple, his warm breath potent. "I don't give a damn what I have to do. I don't give a damn if I'm killed too. I'm killing you."
I attempt to laugh, but it is not as easy as it looks.
"That's a lot of words for one who has his guts out."
He snarled. "You've stole Eve."
That pained him more than he could tolerate.
"You hurt her. You took everything. You murdered Oliver!"
His hands clench harder. His voice trembles in anger and sorrow. I am constricted in my throat.
Darkness approaches the edge of my vision.
Perhaps. Perhaps I will die here.
The Butcher's Voice whispers.
Not yet.
Time goes slower. His grip relaxes slightly. Only slightly. Just enough.
Then—his body slumps.
He releases my throat. He leans towards me, drowsy and barely breathing.
He's done.
I won.
I collapse onto the ground, panting in sheer relief. Damage alerts scroll across my HUD, yet something more is amiss.
"FURY-DRIVEN REGENERATION ACTIVATED."
Heat flows throughout my system, restoring my injuries and restoring me to wholeness. My throat heals first as the cartilage that got hurt recovers. My sharp pain diminishes into something minor and then goes away.
I rise. Invincible is on the ground before me, shattered, with blood pooling beneath him. His chest rises and falls with gentle, quiet breaths.
It would be very easy.
A single blow. A blow to end himonce and for all.
I raise my fists overhead.
"Time to die, kid."
Then—struck.
I don't sense the blow. I don't even glimpse the quick motion as I am thrust forward by the blow, the pressure causing me to slide along the shattered terrain.
I turned my head and around just in time to spot the person who did.
Nolan.
Nolan appears very enraged and stands upright and tense. He stands between Invincible and me, his hands clenched into tight, powerful fists that drain the color from his knuckles.
"I shouldn't have listened to Mark. I should have stayed fighting you."
I am smiling. My throat still hurts, yet I am able to speak clearly.
"You can try again."
He's about to charge, but then—another arrival.
A fiery streak, a potent comet.
Allen.
The Alien lands beside Nolan, cracking his neck and moving his shoulders. He gazes at me using one good eye, and I know the math isn't in my favor.
Nolan was a challenge I could've overcame, but Allen?
Even my bloodlust knows when to fold.
"Tch." I spit blood and clean my mouth. "This bout is over."
I turn and rise up in the air. Nolan remains behind as he guards his son.
I'm abandoning the planet. There is no point in struggling against something that I cannot defeat.
A Viltrumite Warship glows in the distance, emitting a powerful light and set to wreak havoc in space. It glides smoothly, appearing menacing as if it will devour the universe whole and leave nothing to show for it.
I travel swiftly through the void of space. I am silent, but the Butcher's Voice isn't. I ignore the voice. I have better things to do—or rather, better friends to try to impress.
It makes a big clang as the airlock opens up and I enter, my boots clanging against the cold metal. The lights come on and I behold the room full of faces staring at me in shock. I glance down at myself. Oh, yeah. That whole "I-look-like-Thragg" thing. Fantastic.
"well?" I ask, smacking the dust of my shoulder. "Do you like what you see?"
Anissa, Kregg, and Lucan stare at me like I am dead.
It must have been quite a while since they last looked at me without the lines and grey hairs that speak of growing old. Here I am now, looking as if I could take on Thragg in all his prime—and even conquer him. But, that was just my pride talking.
It did take Primeval Resurgence a while to revive me because it needed to revert me back to the period of thousands of years ago, but it did. Youthfulness was great, and I wish I would have had more time having fun using my DP properly.
Kregg steps forward, his expression a mix of skepticism and concern. "What's going on, Conquest? How did you do this?"
I smile slightly. "A little bit of me time, you know? I discovered a good skincare routine."
Lucan squints. "Bullshit."
Anissa folds her arms. "Do you think that we will believe that?"
"Believe what you think." I shrug. "But let's discuss work, okay?"
They regard one another—odd and guarded. They do not wish to ask me too many things. I am Conquest, after all.
"Alright," Lucan spits out the word. "Did you murder Nolan's boys?"
I pass by them without my robot arm, gone and forgotten. "Yes," I answer smoothly, my former bald shiny head matching the tone. "I handled it."
Lucan winces. "What about the tall one?"
"Especially the tall one." I don't want to sound boastful. They don't have to know that Mark may still exist. "They are no longer problems."
They stare at one another, and I can almost predict what they are thinking. They want to know me, wondering if I am serious or if I am merely playing a cruel joke.
"Are you certain?" Anissa inquires, her tone dripping with doubt.
"Oh, I'm positive," I murmur as I move down the corridor of the warship. "They will not give us any more troubles."
"And Nolan?" Anissa inquires in concern, "Is he..."
"Oh no," I tell her as I move my wrist. "Like I would go after the great boss man himself."
We reach the main deck, and we're in the middle of what feels like a space arena. There's this air of tension about the contact to come. Equipment hums the walls, the odd tools the vessel has. My crew remains static, staring at me, and they're all whispering. They're well aware who I am—what I am.
A hologram of Thragg is in the middle. The Grand Regent of the Viltrumites. He is the strongest individual in the universe. His cold and old eyes gazed at me intently, scrutinizing me.
"Thragg," I murmur softly, stooping down and remaining low, my chest thudding with the pace of my heartbeat. "Your humble servants has returned."
My comrades bow their heads to display respect as well. Our crew around us also does this. They all indicate that they agree.
Thragg's holographic eyes are fixed on me, his face unreadable. "Conquest," he eventually says, his voice full of depth and command. "Is that..."
I gave him one of my winks. "The one and only."
Thragg's holographic face blinks, his eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement. "What magic is this?"
I kept smiling. "It's only a little makeover, sir. Nothing you should worry about."
Thragg's eyes grew narrow, and for one instant I felt that the universe's most ruthless killer deliberated the ghastly act of disemboweling me. The Butcher's Voice whispered tempting threats of killing Thragg, but I did not to listen. This wasn't the time for that shit.
"I have no use for tricks, Conquest," Thragg declares, his deep voice ringing through the air that surrounds us. "How did you do this?"
"Quite the story," I answer, waving the question aside in the careless manner of my earlier years. "Let's just say that I've unearthed ancient secrets."
Thragg's eyes grew narrow and his holographic body throbbed with anger. "Ancient secrets?" he repeated, his deep, gravelly voice echoing across the deck. "Do you have the temerity to withhold knowledge from me? I'll disassemble you piece by piece until you tell me everything!"
I am quiet and still, despite the Butcher's Voice that whispers softly within me, which I keep repressed. "I don't want to be rude, Grand Regent. But some things should just be kept to oneself."
Thragg's holographic eyes burn with fury, and for a moment, I am afraid that I have overstepped. But in a sudden change, his massive shoulders relax, and he nods. "For now," he declares, his voice booming like a thunderclap. "But do not think that you can keep secrets from me forever."
The Butcher's Voice laughs quietly. It's all fun and games until someone loses an arm—or a throne, perhaps.
Thragg's eyes bored into me, like twin drill bits. "And what of Nolan's child?"
"Dead," I answer deadpan as if ordering takeaway. "Your floor bears the stains from their blood, my Grand Regent."
Thragg's holographic eyes narrowed, examining me closely for any sign of falsehood. "And Nolan?"
"Ah, Nolan," I say with a grin. "Still standing. Or was, last I checked."
"You didn't kill him?"
"He had help," I answer lightly, shrugging. "It's better to let him suffer his loss by himself anyway."
Thragg's expression smooths out and his holographic presence leans his head in recognition. "I must say you have changed, Conquest, not just in looks but in very nature. You have become something new." I detect the glint of what appears to be pride flashing within Thragg's eyes. "You have grown up from the dog that I knew into that Conqueror that you truly are."
I bite down on the "dog" comment—a vicious insult, even for him. Rather than debating or trying to educate him, I simply incline my head, my teeth clenched in tight anger. The Butcher's Voice does not speak up, probably too busy enjoying the anger I would unleash if I were willing.