Life can Change Chapter 88 - The Strongest Viltrumite

(AN; Another 10-11k chapter)

The platform trembled beneath their feet. Each impact from below sent a faint shudder through the metal. The viewing chamber opened out across the inner ring of the Spire; from this height, the fight between Mark and Thragg was little more than a blur of shapes and sound, but the scale of it was impossible to ignore. The walls groaned each time they collided. Lucan leaned over the rail, his knuckles pale against the silver. "He's still standing," he said. "What sort of trickery is this."

Anissa folded her arms. Her eyes followed the flashes below where gravity bent and light twisted with every strike. She had known Mark was strong, but the force of it was greater than she expected. "That shouldn't be possible," she said under her breath.

Raven stood slightly behind them, her hood down, her eyes fixed on the same place. "It is," she said.

Lucan glanced at her. "And what makes you so srrogant?"

Raven didn't look away from the arena. "He can control gravity itself, a fundamental force of the universe. One of his abilities can erase a person from existence. Even without Viltrumite blood, he would still be able to kill one of you with that."

Lucan's head turned sharply toward her. A small, humorless laugh escaped him. "A human killing a Viltrumite. You've got quite a sense of humor."

Raven's expression didn't change. "You almost died to an Earthling once," she said.

Lucan froze. His jaw tightened, the memory of a trident through his side still somewhere in his body. He moved as if to stand, but his limbs stopped halfway. Raven's eyes glowed faint purple "Sit," she said quietly. "Don't make a scene."

The air grew still for a moment until Nolan spoke. "She's right," he said. "Now's not the time."

Lucan sank back into his chair. His shoulders stayed tight, but he said nothing.

Anissa exhaled slowly, trying to bring the moment back to the fight. "He's doing well," she said. "Better than I thought. Do you think he could actually win?"

Nolan didn't answer. His eyes tracked the movements below, the two figures clashing again and again, one forcing the other back, the shockwaves echoing through the structure.

Lucan gave a short laugh. "Win? He doesn't stand a chance, even if he's doing better than expected."

Both Anissa and Raven looked at him. Raven had a glare on her face, and funnily enough so did Anissa.

"He's right," Nolan said suddenly.

Raven turned to him. "You can't mean that, especially with what you know about Mark." She looked to his prosthetic arm.

Nolan didn't move his gaze from the fight. "It looks like he's holding his ground," he said. "But Thragg hasn't used any of his real strength yet. You'll know when he does." The words hit harder than the noise below. None of them replied. They could feel the tremor in the Spire, the air humming with the force of each collision, and yet somewhere in that... Thragg was still holding back.

Lucan swallowed and looked away. Anissa's face had gone pale; her arms unfolded, hands clasped behind her back. Raven didn't speak. She followed the faint blue trail of energy that marked Mark's movement across the arena. Her hands tightened slightly at her sides. For the first time, her expression broke.

She whispered, almost to herself, "Just don't get hurt."

...

Mark moved first. The air around him tightened, dust lifted, lines in the floor bowed toward him. He cut the distance in a single blur and snapped a jab at Thragg's eye. Thragg tilted his head and the punch slid past. Mark doubled the hand and drove a cross into Thragg's chest like a ram. The sound rolled through the tiers. Thragg barely shifted. Mark spun through with a round kick that cracked against the side of Thragg's head, then he hooked Thragg's wrist mid-spin and slung him away in a hard throw. Thragg turned in the air and killed his momentum with a flick of his shoulders.

Mark folded space again and reappeared at his flank. He thrust his hand out at Thragg's collarbone and ripped him in with gravity manipulation. His left hook landed with a short twist, then he ripped a red sphere under the same hand and launched an uppercut that fired Thragg straight up like a shell. The roof supports groaned. Mark blinked out and caught him during the rise. He yanked Thragg back down with a blue sphere, tossed him, then repulsed him away mid-spin with a red sphere that tore a gash across the far wall. Mark chased and hammered a gravity-weighted cross into Thragg's sternum. The platform under them fractured and fell in chunks.

Thragg grinned. "More."

Mark braced his core and dropped his weight into the floor for a heartbeat, then shed it. He shot forward, fists a blur. He smashed a jab across Thragg's cheek, slid inside with a forearm jam, and threaded a short elbow to the ear. Thragg slipped the next shot and cracked Mark in the ribs with a tight counter. Mark clamped Thragg's wrist, stepped across, and raked a heel behind Thragg's ankle. He pitched him through a short trip, rolled with the fall, and spiked a knee down as gravity dragged them both. The floor dented under Thragg's back. Metal spit out from the seam.

Thragg rolled up off the deck without a labored breath. Mark didn't give him space. He formed a thin red sphere in the form of a shield and took Thragg's shoulder charge on it, slid to the side, and hooked a blue coil around Thragg's bicep. He reeled him in, turned his hips, and drove a descending kick into Thragg's clavicle with a gravity spike that ran through leg and spine. The impact punched a crater into the slab and sent cracks racing outward.

"Yes," Thragg almost moaned.

Mark answered by stripping weight from his limbs and using gravity to almost warp them. He slid across the air on that lightness and tore into Thragg with a fast pair to the mouth and heart. Thragg ate them and threw a straight back. Mark cut a red wedge into the line of that punch and let it skate past, then snapped a heel up under Thragg's jaw. He spun with it and hammered a palm across the ear. Blue grabbed Thragg's neck for a blink and dragged him forward into a short elbow that thudded. Mark locked a hand behind Thragg's head, pulled, and sent a knee up through the line. Thragg's head drifted back a fraction.

Mark kept him there with a pull that was more feel than sight. He climbed the pull, wrapped Thragg's forearm with his own, and rolled over his shoulder for a midair throw. Thragg rotated out of the angle and came back with a simple punch that Mark sidestepped by tearing the floor under him sideways with a red shove. The strike missed by inches and blew a chunk out of the wall. Sparks rained across the tier seats and Viltrumites stepped back, some floating, some bracing with arms up as the debris flew.

Mark sank a hook to the body, then another, then lifted a tight uppercut. He pulsed a micro-pull each time his fist landed, drawing Thragg into the knuckles. The impacts stacked. The air cracked like short thunder. He went high with a cross, dropped low into a sweep that cut Thragg's legs, and as Thragg dipped, Mark snared him with a thin blue string around torso and thigh and whipped him into the ground. The slab buckled. Panels sheared. The far railing twisted and tore free.

Thragg pushed up, smile wider. "Good. Harder."

Mark gave it to him. He sent a huge red sphere at Thragg letting it hit him and explode the ground sending thragments everywhere. At the same instant Mark dove into the front and smashed a straight into Thragg's jaw. Thragg's head rocked one notch left. Mark kept the rhythm and alternated pull and push during his hands, drawing Thragg into each shot before the next sent him rocking back. Blue drew the shoulder; red shoved the hip; knuckles found the face. The resonance turned each punch into a piston. The deck rivets sang in their holes.

Thragg laughed between breaths. "Again."

Mark reversed the deck under Thragg's feet with a touch and flipped his frame upward like the floor had become a ceiling. Thragg fell up. Mark was already there, stepping into the new "down," smashing a knee into Thragg's midline, then a right hand across the mouth, then stripping the invert and slamming Thragg down with a hand on the throat and a hard red flash at the base of the neck. The drop shook three levels. A section of the lower tier sloughed off and fell through the open well, breaking against the substructure.

Mark didn't stop. He closed the gap with a burst that tore the air, hit Thragg with a rapid pair, spun a round kick across the temple, and used the spin to hook the forearm and whirl him into a throw. Thragg sailed. Mark was already on him, descending. He caught Thragg under the shoulder, pulled him in a nose-down dive, let him rebound, then split his arm across Thragg's ribs in an elbow as Thragg rose. He grabbed the back of Thragg's neck and popped a knee up the centerline. Thragg's body rose from the knee's track and Mark rode the lift into a twist, wrenched the shoulder, threw him into a falling spin, and met the fall with a tight uppercut that ran through jaw and spine. He finished with a back kick that sent Thragg skidding sideways across open air into a load-bearing rib of the Spire. The brace bent, the welds screamed, and a rain of bolts fell.

Mark circled him at speed. He grabbed Thragg by the wrist, rotated around him in a tight loop, built force, and flung him outward. Then he climbed, cut across Thragg's arc, seized him by the forearm as he reached the top of the swing, and spiked him straight down. A handclap of repulsion hammered him into the floor. The paneling caved. A plume of dust rolled.

Thragg rose through the dust unmarked. He rolled his neck once. "Better."

Mark's breath came hard. He kept his shoulders loose and stepped back in.

He set a light jab just to touch, slipped outside Thragg's counter with a red nudge that turned the line, and blitzed. His jab reappeared as a piston, his cross hammered behind it, a hook lanced in tight, then he spun and tore a kick across the head. He latched the forearm in mid-spin and hucked Thragg across the chamber. And before Thragg could right himself, Mark inverted the local field on Thragg's body, reached, and dragged him back into his fist. The punch snapped Thragg's head. The ceiling baffles rattled with the crack.

"Yes," Thragg said through teeth. "Keep going."

Mark bled speed into his bones and then stripped it, the shift turning each step into a lunge and each lunge into a jump. He drove an elbow down, snapped a hammerfist up, and toggled a tight blue band around Thragg's ribs for a fraction to hold him where the next knee landed. The knee hit. The deck warped again.

The Viltrumites on the upper tiers had started to move farther back. Some hovered out from the rows. Some raised forearms to block chips of sheared metal that skittered in their direction. The Spire's inner ribs carried new fractures that webbed from impact to impact. The arena floor lost sections to craters and torn seams. Each time Mark pushed or pulled the air, the walls flexed, seams popped, cables hummed like plucked wire.

Mark shifted to a new angle and threw a red shield into Thragg's incoming straight, skidding it aside. He bolted under the arm and stitched hooks into liver and kidney. He pulsed a blue tug on the last hook and drew Thragg into a short right that landed flat on the face. Thragg backed a half step. Mark reached, trapped the wrist, and jumped his hips across for a clean toss. Thragg rotated in the air and landed on both feet, then took a small step in and cracked Mark with a simple punch that shoved him back across a broken slab.

"Don't slow down now," Thragg said, smiling. "You're finally using it."

Mark wiped his lip with the back of his hand and surged again. He punched in pairs, slid his shoulder against Thragg's chest to gain inside position, and hammered a rising uppercut that shook dust from the roof. He twined a narrow blue filament around Thragg's ankle, pulled, and chopped a kick into the knee from the opposite side. Thragg's leg bent and snapped back into line like nothing had happened. He laughed once, short and sharp.

Mark shifted to defense as Thragg stepped forward with a series of short shots. Mark bled a red sheet out to dull the first, slipped the second with a tiny drop in weight, and caught the third on his forearm. The arm went numb to the elbow. He shook it once, fed the dead weight into a swing, and used his shoulder to check Thragg's chest. That opened room for a knee that thudded. He took it. He wrapped an arm behind Thragg's neck, dragged him down, and tried to spin him to the floor. Thragg posted a hand, killed the spin, stood out of the clinch, and tapped Mark's jaw with a short right that rang through his skull.

Mark hunched and fired back. He went low with a shin to the thigh, rose with a hook to the ear, then hit body, body, head. He toggled blue and red during the rhythm so each shot came into a target that either met it or fled it. It kept Thragg right where he needed him. He poured on speed and let the floor fracture under his acceleration. The air cracked, then cracked again, like snapping glass on a loop.

Thragg started to breathe harder, not from strain but from the high of it. "That's it. Don't hold it back. All of it."

Mark let it go. Blue bloomed across the chamber in half-seen pulses that caught rubble and bent metal. Red flashed in threads and wedges, turning every dodge into a shove and every slip into a leap. He spun a tugline around Thragg's torso, pulled him into an elbow, then snapped a shoulder throw with a red pop at the hip that pitched Thragg into the floor. He followed him down with a heel that smashed into collar and sternum. The plate under them bent like sheet.

He pressed the attack. He drew Thragg in with a blue jerk, hurled him away, then detonated a red blast behind him that slammed him forward again. Mark met him with a gravity-weighted cross that struck with a loud boom and flickered the lights above the arena. He threw again, red on the far wall to bounce Thragg back, blue on the chest to keep him in the pocket, fists filling the space between.

Around the chamber, sections of seating broke loose and hung at bad angles. White dust hung in layers. The observation field at the higher ring wavered as it absorbed stray force. Nolan stood with hands on the rail. Anissa beside him leaned forward without realizing it. Lucan had stopped talking. Raven's eyes tracked the rhythm without blinking.

"More, Mark," Thragg said, smiling through blood on his teeth. "More."

Mark growled and tore into him. He bent the rib out of the way with a blue twist and hammered body shots like a drumbeat. He broke rhythm into a high cross, then a snap kick to the knee, then a lock at the elbow that he almost sank before Thragg shrugged it out. Mark accepted the slip and turned it into a knee to the stomach. He followed with a fast flurry—jab, cross, hook, hook, elbow—and then he slid behind Thragg's stance and reaped a leg out from under him. Thragg floated rather than fell. He adjusted his inertia with a small shift in hips and shoulders. He was always at home in the open air.

Mark changed the shape of that air. He laid a blue web across the bay and cinched it behind Thragg like a net. The net pulled. Thragg's flight caught. Mark stepped in and kicked him through the mesh into the opposite wall. The wall caved. The net snapped and rebounded like a sling. Mark timed the rebound, popped a red shock into Thragg's spine, and met him with a rising uppercut that cracked the ceiling above them. The impact threw hairline fissures up three levels.

Mark pressed until his forearms ached. He overlaid blue and red in short beats during a punch string so that each blow dragged Thragg in and the next launched him back just far enough to meet the following hand. It was a rhythm that ignored distance and punished guard. He kept it tight and let his wrists and elbows do most of the travel, feeding the power from his hips and the invisible weight hanging off his fists. The room went loud with the sound of bone on bone.

Thragg took it, eyes shining. "Good. Don't stop. Faster."

Mark  flew forward and launched a full sequence.

He dashed in and fired a rapid string of straight shots to occupy his guard. He spun into a hooking pull that caught Thragg's shoulder and dragged him into a tight spinning punch. The blow landed and Mark hammered a red-boosted uppercut that fired Thragg into the open air of the well between tiers. Mark chased and caught him by the forearm, dove with him, and at the bottom of the drop released at the last instant so Thragg bounced. Mark slashed an elbow across ribs as Thragg rose, then cinched the neck and drove a knee that knocked him higher. He looped around the lift and twisted Thragg into a dragging spin, met the turn with a rising uppercut that launched him, then pivoted and snapped a back kick that sent him caroming off a buttress. Mark closed, circled him at speed to build centrifugal load, flung him outward across the width of the well, climbed above, grabbed him mid-arc, and rode him down in a guided drop. He finished with a two-handed slam that cracked the level plate and sent a wave through the Spire like a struck drum.

The chamber went still for a second as the dust rolled.

Thragg floated up out of the crater without a new mark on him. He spit blood to the side and smiled like he had just found a lost blade. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Mark exhaled. He stepped again. He threw a short at Thragg's mouth. Thragg didn't block. He let it hit and answered with a perfect straight from a perfect stance. Mark barely saw it. The punch landed like a rod through his chest. The world jumped. He felt floor, then wall, then another floor, then pillars, then light, then floors again. His body tore a path up through level after level, each deck exploding around him in a spray of metal and dust.

He burst out the top of the Spire into blue light and thin air. He arrested his fall with a jerk of weight, gasped once, and looked up.

Thragg was already there, hand closing around his throat, fingers like a steel collar. He stopped Mark in the sky like he had always been standing there.

"Still alive," Thragg said, pleased. He squeezed just enough to hold him. "Good."

The air around Thragg shifted. His skin glowed faintly as the aura built, the light of that could only be described as a  blue star started bleeding out of him. Heat rolled off him in waves, warping the air, curling the clouds around them into shreds. Mark felt it first on his cheeks, then on his forearms, he felt a sting like standing inside a furnace. Then it was everywhere.

Thragg's hand was still on his throat. "You feel it?" he asked.

Mark tried to draw a breath against the grip. He balled his fists, gravity buzzing through his forearms. He coated them in red repulsion field wrapped around each knuckle. He drove the first punch straight into Thragg's ribs. It hit like thunder. Nothing moved. He threw another at the jaw, twisting his whole body behind it, then another, hammering upward. Each one cracked the air like a whip, each one louder, each one stronger, but Thragg's body didn't even rock under the hits.

Mark roared and swung again, both fists slamming at once into Thragg's chest, the red glow bursting outward. It still didn't budge him. The heat from Thragg's aura flared brighter and Mark's skin started to blister where the light touched him. He tried to wrench free and drop the gravity under his own body to slip the grip, but Thragg's fingers only dug in tighter, holding him like a hawk with prey.

Thragg's smile widened. "My turn."

He drew his fist back. The glow around him flared so hot it seared the inside of Mark's nose. Then Thragg drove the punch forward and the world went white. The impact broke the sound barrier three times over, each one a hammer of air around them. Mark's body folded around the blow and shot away like a fired round. He felt his ribs shatterl all at once, a sharp wet noise inside his chest, obliterating most of his internal organs. He pushed a red sphere into place around his heart with the last of his focus and felt it take the brunt of the blow there, without it he knew that part of him would be gone.

He smashed through the air, a comet trailing blood, and fell. The world spun into blue and then green and then a flash of water. He hit the lake so hard the surface erupted like a depth charge and then closed over him. Darkness swallowed him. Despite the coldness of the water engulfing him his body still burned, infact he could see the water bubble and boil around his body.

Above, Thragg cracked the sky open with a sound like a rift tearing as he appeared above the lake. He hung in the air, his aura still burning like a piece of the sun, looking down at the lake. He raised one hand. Between his fingers, a point of light gathered; small, but bright enough to cut through the water below. It swelled into a sphere no bigger than a man's fist, but inside it swirled the color of a star's core.

Mark's eyes widened. Even under the water, even broken, he felt the danger in it. He forced his hands up and dragged a red sphere around his whole body, a cocoon of force thick enough to press the water back. Then did the only thing he could do.

He braced.

Thragg flicked his fingers. The tiny star dropped.

It touched the lake and the world went white again. The water boiled instantly, then evaporated in a wall of steam. Mark's red sphere shuddered under the blast, ripples running across its surface like glass under strain. The heat punched through it in waves, baking his skin, searing his burns open. He held it as long as he could, gritting his teeth, but the shield cracked, the heat scalding him until he could barely remain conscious.

When the flash finally cleared, the lake was gone. Nothing but a steaming crater remained, mud bubbling at the bottom. Mark lay there at the lowest point, half-covered in muck, his skin almost peeling off and blistered, his breath coming in short, wet gasps. The red sphere around him flickered and died.

A shadow fell across him. Thragg descended slowly, his aura dimming back to a faint glow. He rolled his shoulders, like a man loosening up after a workout. "That was good," he said as his boots touched the scorched earth. "I liked that. I haven't enjoyed a fight like that in years." His eyes gleamed. "It makes my blood rush at the thought of what you'll do in a thousand years. How strong you'll be."

Mark coughed and blood came up, against the pale stone. He tried to push himself upright but his arms barely answered.

A pulse of darkness hit the air behind Thragg. Raven appeared, shadows swirling around her, her Soul-Self unfurling behind her like a monstrous raven with wings that reached the scorched edges of the crater. Its eyes burned purple, its beak open in a silent scream. She stood over Mark, every inch of her body trembling with contained fury. "Get away from him," she hissed.

Thragg turned his head and laughed. "Have no fear, woman. It was just a spar. I would sooner hurt myself than kill my own kin."

Raven's eyes narrowed. She didn't lower her hands. She crouched by Mark, touching his burned cheek, her heart hammering at how still he was. His skin felt like a furnace under her fingers.

Thragg watched, his expression unreadable now. "Don't worry," he said. "Our medical technology far outstrips anything on Earth. Come I will lead you to where he can be healed."

Raven didn't believe him. Not completely. But Mark's breathing was ragged and his ribs were a map of angles under his skin. She had no choice. She wrapped him in a purple sphere, lifting him off the steaming mud, and rose into the air after Thragg. The Soul-Self circled above them like a sentinel as she followed him back toward the Spire, her eyes never leaving the back of Thragg's head.

_____________________________________

Thragg stood at the top of the Spire of Sovereignty, high enough that the atmosphere thinned, this was the tip of the tower where Thragg stayed most of the time. He stood there watching the city below, watching the numerous slave races in their flying contraptions. His grin had not faded since the fight.

Mark Grayson. The name lingered on his tongue. The boy had surprised him. The strength, the endurance, the sheer ferocity of the boy... it had been the first time in centuries that he had felt something other than boredom in combat. He had escorted Mark's woman to the medical wing himself, if only to see that the hybrid was placed into a healing pod immediately. The pod had sealed around him, filling with the viscous green fluid that would heal his flesh and bone. Thragg had stood there for a long moment afterward, watching the pulse of life on the monitor, before leaving without a word.

Now he stood alone, smiling as he looked across the planet that he ruled. He could still feel the faint ache in his knuckles from the blows he had traded. That pleased him more than he would ever admit.

The sound of breaking air came from behind him, a pressure shift that signaled approach. General Krieg flew through the opening in the ceiling; the same hole Mark had made when Thragg's punch had sent him crashing through the spire's levels. Krieg landed a few steps away and straightened.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Grand Regent?" Krieg asked.

Thragg's grin widened. "Enjoy? Krieg, that was the most fun I've had since I fought Ganthet." He laughed, a short, genuine sound. "It has been too long since anyone has made me feel like that."

Krieg frowned. "You completely overpowered him. There was no contest."

Thragg waved a hand as if brushing the thought away. "You saw power, yes. But not the kind that matters. My abilities, my strength, they are fixed I can grow no more as a Viltrumite. The light of a star burns bright but burn is all it can do. His, though..." He trailed off, eyes narrowing with interest. "His power bends the world itself. It surpasses my own in potential. Gravity is not a weapon that can simply be resisted. It consumes everything. Given time, he will surpass anything that stands before him."

Krieg shook his head. "With respect, Grand Regent, I doubt that. You crushed him. If not for your restraint, he'd be nothing but ash."

Thragg chuckled. "There are limits to what my Tameranean heritage grants me. I can channel and contain the energy of a star, but there are only so many ways to wield that. His gravity, on the other hand... it can twist, compress, or erase. If he ever truly learns to master it, I shudder to think what he will be capable of."

The general's mouth tightened. "You really believe that?"

Thragg turned toward him. His expression was calm now, but his eyes glowed faintly with that same inner light. "I have formed the core of a star within my body, Krieg. I am the living embodiment of solar power. Tell me, General, what is the star's greatest adversary?"

Krieg hesitated, uncertain. "I don't know, Grand Regent."

Thragg stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to make the air feel heavier. "Gravity," he said. "It is gravity that devours the stars. It is gravity that brings them to collapse, that turns them into black holes. Even a sun must bow to it."

He smiled, slow and deliberate. "Mark Grayson's abilities are the direct counter to my own."

The thought made him laugh again, a quiet chuckle at first, then louder until the sound filled the entire chamber. He laughed so hard he had to brace himself against Krieg's shoulder, the weight of it shaking through him. "Do you understand it now? The irony, the beauty of it? To meet one whose very nature opposes mine so perfectly? I almost wish I could see what he becomes when his power ripens."

Krieg's frown deepened. "Then you should ask yourself, Grand Regent... is it wise to keep him alive? If he is as dangerous as you believe, he could destroy everything we've built. Perhaps we should end it before that day comes."

The laughter died instantly. Thragg straightened, the grin vanishing. He looked at Krieg for a moment. Then his hand moved.

The slap cracked through the chamber like a sonic blast. Krieg's head snapped sideways, the sound of his neck breaking echoing off the walls. He stumbled, choking, and Thragg caught him by the collar, lifting him off the floor. "Don't speak of such things again," he said.

Krieg gurgled, his head hanging at an unnatural angle. Thragg tilted it back with one hand and twisted until it clicked into place again. The general sucked in a ragged breath.

"Am I clear?" Thragg asked.

"Yes, Grand Regent," Krieg rasped.

Thragg let him drop. "Good."

Krieg leaned against the wall, swallowing hard, his breathing uneven. "What do you plan to do with him then?" he managed. "His Earth heritage makes him soft. He's unlikely to conquer worlds for us. His emotions make him weak."

Thragg walked to the open balcony, the light from the blue sun painting lines across his armor. "You're right," he said. "He is soft." He rested his hands on the railing, watching the endless city below. "But softness can be broken. And when it breaks, what comes after is something sharper than any blade."

He thought in silence for a moment, the faint hum of energy from his body vibrating the air. Then he spoke. "The joint operation with the Saiyans to attack the military station in sector 236 have Mark lead the Viltrumite contingent."

Krieg blinked. "Lead? He has no military experience. You'd put the empire's forces in the hands of a child?"

Thragg turned his head slightly, his eyes glowing faintly blue. "It will be a good test," he said.

Krieg opened his mouth to argue, but the look Thragg gave him stopped him cold. The General swallowed. "Very well, Grand Regent," he said quickly.

Thragg turned back toward the horizon. "Let us see," he murmured.

"If he can join me with the other gods..."

_____________________________________

Mark's eyes snapped open to a haze of green, his lungs seizing as something thick filled them. He jerked forward on instinct, but his body wouldn't move as heavy restraints clamped tight around his wrists and ankles. He tried to breathe and swallowed only liquid which made him start to panic. His muscles tensed against the binds, cords standing out along his arms as he pulled. The tank surrounding him starting to bend and break under his power. He twisted, bubbles streaming from his mouth, his chest screaming for air.

Then something changed. The fluid around him began to churn, swirling in wide circles before draining out beneath his feet. He fell forward when the restraints clicked open, hitting his knees hard against the cold metal floor. The mask yanked loose from his face, wet straps slapping against his cheek as he tore it off and coughed until bile and green residue spilled from his mouth. His body trembled, half from pain, half from shock. Each breath he dragged in felt like glass scraping down his throat. He blinked until the blur cleared. The room swam into focus, it had white walls lined with glowing conduits, the air filledd with the the smell of whatever that green liquid was.

He wasn't alone.

A small alien creature stood near one of the terminals, its limbs thin and bony, four narrow eyes blinking out of rhythm. Its trembling hands hovered over the console, clearly terrified. Behind it stood Galatea, her fingers wrapped around its throat, lifting it off the ground as if it weighed nothing. The alien's claws scratched uselessly at her wrist while its legs kicked in the air. "What the hell did you do to him?" she demanded in a calm voice, but her glowing red eyes and the tremor in her grip said otherwise.

The alien made a wet choking noise before stammering out, "He... he purges the fluid! It leaves lungs! He breathes clean soon!"

"Galatea." Mark's voice was raw, barely more than a whisper. He coughed again, forcing air into his aching chest. "Let him go."

She hesitated, then released her hold. The creature collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Mark pushed himself upright, his legs unsteady under him. His body ached like he'd been hit by a starship, which wasn't far from the truth. Every bone felt new and fragile, as if still remembering how to fit together. He rubbed the side of his neck, feeling the faint pulse of pain still echoing from Thragg's punch.

He turned toward the others. Raven knelt beside him, her pale hand on his shoulder. Her touch was cool, her expression unreadable, but the worry was there in her eyes, faint but he could notice it. Behind her, Harley crouched with her pigtails brushing his arm, her gloved fingers poking at his ribs in half concern, half irritation.

"What—" he rasped. "Where am I?"

"Medical wing," Raven said. "You've been unconscious for a week."

"A week?" he said, startled. "Damn."

"You were barely breathing when they brought you in," she added quietly. Her voice didn't waver, but her hand lingered on him longer than usual.

Harley rocked back on her heels, scoffing. "Yeah, and your big moustachioed pal dragged ya in himself like you were yesterday's laundry. I swear, if I ever see that smug fuckstick again, I'm puttin' two right between his eyes. Pow. Problem solved."

Mark managed a small laugh. "Not necessary, Harls."

She frowned, then threw her arms around him without warning, holding on tight enough that his healing ribs creaked. Her perfume hit him in waves. "Yer a real piece'a work, ya know that? Always gettin' beat half to death, never learnin' your lesson."

He hugged her back, smiling faintly. "You worried about me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, sugar," she said, but her voice cracked just enough to betray her. She pulled away and poked him hard in the chest. "Next time, try not to get destroyed, okay? I have a real bowl for popcorn now I don't need to use your next hole in the stomach."

He winced at the poke but didn't move away. "I'll try."

Galatea still stood near the machines, watching in silence.. The glow in her eyes faded as she crossed her arms. "You should rest," she said. "Your body's not done healing."

"I'll be fine."

"No, you won't," Raven said firmly.

He glanced at her, smirking a little. "You always say that."

"And I'm always right," she replied.

Mark looked around again, scanning the room. "Where's Kara?"

"With the children," Galatea answered.

He frowned. "The children? They're still in the lab?"

"Yes," Galatea said.

He straightened a little, concern creasing his face. "Why?"

Her gaze flicked briefly to Raven, then back to him. "Perhaps it's better we discuss that in private."

He wanted to press, to demand she explain now, but his body betrayed him. His limbs felt heavy, each breath scraping through the raw channels of his lungs. He sighed. "Alright. We'll talk later."

The alien scientist picked itself up from the floor, adjusting its crooked robe, keeping a careful distance from Galatea as it spoke. "He must not strain himself. Heart and lungs fragile still. No flight, no battle. Rest."

Harley snorted and slung an arm around Mark's shoulders. "Oh, he'll rest. Don'tcha worry, doc. Might even let him nap with me. But no promises on the strenuous part."

Galatea rolled her eyes. Raven's lips twitched, the closest thing she would give to a smile.

Mark exhaled, the tension finally draining from his shoulders. He pushed off the cold tile and stood fully, feeling Raven's hand steady him. "Let's go," he said.

They moved together down the corridor, the sound of their steps echoing off the floor. The walls were lined with more tanks , some filled with liquid, others empty, some with a living shape suspended inside. Mark didn't stop to look closely. He didn't want to. He just wanted to find out what's wrong with the children.

Raven walked beside him. Galatea followed behind, still tense from the earlier confrontation. Harley, of course, hummed as she walked.nAs they reached the end of the hall, the massive doors slid open with a hiss. The air that rushed in smelled cleaner, and Mark felt glad to get the smell of whatever that green liquid was out of his nose.

With Raven forming a platform for Mark and Harley they then went back to their room in the spire.

...

Mark dropped into the nearest chair, the movement a little stiff. His breath still came uneven, he knew for sure he hated those pods in that moment. The metal beneath him creaked when he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. He rubbed his temples with the edge of his thumb and tried to find focus, but the ache behind his eyes wouldn't fade, but he still managed to find the words to start the topic he wanted to speak of on.

"The kids," he said. "Talk."

Galatea stopped pacing. Her hands fell to her sides, but her shoulders stayed tight. When she looked at him, her eyes didn't waver. "All three of them," she said. "Lucy. Waylon. Dante. They were given the serum to stabilise their DNA. All went into the tanks immediately after."

For a moment, Mark didn't move. The words hung in the air, distant, muffled, as though he were hearing them through water. Then it hit him all at once, likea sharp pull in his gut, like gravity twisting the wrong way.

"What..." His voice hardened. "All three? Why the hell would they do that? Dante— fine. But Lucy? Waylon? They're perfectly healthy." He gripped the armrest until the metal groaned under his fingers. The breath he drew in came rough, his chest rising like he was bracing for another hit. He pushed up from the chair so fast it scraped across the floor with a loud screech and slammed into the wall. "I swear to God, if those fucking Viltrumite bastards have done anything to them—"

"Mark."

Harley was up before he could move another inch. She caught his wrist with both hands, nails biting into his skin through the thin fabric of his uniform.. "Whoa, puddin'. Easy there. Ya look like ya barely made it outta that fish tank alive. Don't go pickin' fights when you can't even stand straight."

"Harley—"

"Don't 'Harley' me." She tugged his collar, just enough to make him look at her. "Ya think losin' your temper's gonna fix anythin'? If somethin' happened to Lucy, ya know I'd burn this whole damn planet to cinders. But right now, you ain't fit to fight a toddler with a foam bat."

This didn't do much to mollify him.

Raven turned from where she had been standing by the viewport. She walked toward them, amd when she reached him, she placed her hand flat against his chest. "Mark," she said softly, "listen."

Galatea stepped closer. "It makes sense," she said. "If you think about it we need them to use the hybrid serum on all of them. If even one of them has instability in their DNA, it could manifest later. Away from here, we'd have no way to treat it."

Mark looked at her, jaw tight. "So what, we just let them experiment on our kids?"

"It isn't an experiment," Galatea said. "It's treatment. You saw what happened to Dante. Being a hybrid could turn lethal if it destabilizes."

He wanted to argue. Every muscle in his body wanted to fight against her logic, but the images that formed in his mind stopped him cold.

Raven's voice broke through his thoughts. "She's right. If they didn't do this, the risk might've killed them later. You know it."

He exhaled hard, air leaving him in a shudder. His shoulders fell. "You're right," he said finally, the words sounding more like surrender than agreement. "God, you're right." He lowered himself back into the chair, elbows resting on his knees again, head hanging low. The fight went out of him all at once. His hands trembled as he pressed them to his face.

Harley hovered beside him, the edge of her voice softening. "Hey," she said, crouching down next to him. "They're tough, ya know? They get that from us." She reached up and brushed the damp hair off his forehead, her thumb lingering just long enough for it to mean something. "Ain't nobody gonna break our kids. Not even these space freaks."

Mark's mouth twitched into a small, tired smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You sound pretty confident."

"Damn right I am," she said, forcing a grin.

He let out a short breath that might've been a laugh, then leaned back. "Still," he said. "I should've been there."

Raven's eyes softened, the faint light from the walls tracing a pale line down her cheek. "You couldn't be everywhere," she said. "You needed to recover."

Galatea stood at the far end of the room again, arms folded, her gaze flicking between the three of them. "They're fine. I checked before coming here."

Mark looked up, meeting her eyes. "You're sure?"

She nodded once. "Positive."

He stared at her for a moment longer, then the tension eased from his face. The energy in him that had been boiling over began to fade, leaving only exhaustion behind.

Raven took one look at him and made her decision. "Bed," she said simply.

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he saw the expression she gave him, he'd seen that expression many times back in Bayview.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Bed."

Raven led him toward the adjoining chamber. Harley followed at his other side, still holding his arm as if she didn't quite trust him to walk on his own. Galatea lingered for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the room, then fell into step behind them.

Whne they reached the inner chamber Harley stretched her arms overhead and gave a half-hearted yawn. "Alright, puddin'," she said, flashing a quick grin. "You get your beauty sleep. I'm gonna see if this fancy tin can's hidin' somethin' worth drinkin'." Her boots clicked as she walked out, muttering something about "space whiskey" and "Viltrumite hospitality," before the door hissed shut behind her.

Galatea lingered for a moment near the threshold, her gaze drifting toward the window where the faint curve of the planet glowed blue against the black. She looked back once, her expression unreadable, then gave a short nod to Raven and left without a word. The door sealed with a muted click, leaving only the sound of the filtered air moving through the vents.

Raven stayed.

She guided Mark toward the bed, her palms firm against his shoulders. The fabric of his unigorm clung damp to him from the residue of the pod. She helped him strip it off, her touch skimming over the rough lines of healing scars that crossed his ribs and abdomen. The skin there was raw in places, pale pink against the deeper tone of his body.

He didn't say anything while she worked. He let her. He could still feel the echo of Thragg's fist in his bones, like a bruise running all the way through him.

Raven dropped the shirt aside, the faint scrape of fabric against the floor barely audible. She tugged down the rest of his clothes until he stood bare, the muscles in his back twitching under the sudden chill. He sank into the bed, the mattress giving easily beneath his weight, soft enough that it almost swallowed him. Raven undid her cloak and let it fall, the sound of it sliding across the floor breaking the silence for only a second. The dark fabric pooled near her feet. Beneath it, she wore a thin shift that caught the light when she moved.

She climbed into the bed beside him and leaned on one elbow. For a moment she just looked at him, her gaze moving slowly from his chest to his face, her expression thoughtful, almost searching.

"Talk," she said quietly.

Mark gave her a look, one that she immediately returned. "Mark I'm your wife, I've lived with you for years and I know when you're worrying..."

Mark kept his eyes on the ceiling. The arches overhead curved in a pattern. He exhaled through his nose. "Thragg," he said finally. "He's stronger than I thought possible. That wasn't a fight. It was like trying to win a fight with the damn sun."

He swallowed hard and rubbed at his jaw, feeling the faint ache of where Thragg's grip had left its mark. "Every time I think I've hit my limit, someone like him shows me I haven't even scratched the surface. One hit from him and I'm done. If he wanted to, he could've killed me. Hell, he could kill all of us. And I can't stop him."

Raven's fingers reached for his face. She cupped his jaw, her thumb brushing against the stubble along his chin. Her touch was cold at first, but it delt good  in a way nothing else did. He turned his head slightly, meeting her eyes.

"You'll figure it out," she said. "You always do."

Mark shook his head. "I don't know if this is something I can figure out. He's not like the others. He's... something else."

Raven leaned in until her forehead touched his. Her breath was warm against his mouth when she spoke again. "Then you learn. You train. You survive. We survive. That's what we do."

He let out a breath that trembled faintly. His hand found her arm, tracing down to her wrist. "I don't want to lose you. Any of you."

"You won't," she said, and kissed him.

Mark still looked unsure.

"You're not alone, you have us with you," she said.

He didn't answer right away. He just watched her, her violet eyes half-lit by the faint light from the viewport, the silver outline of her hair catching against the shadows. For a moment, the noise in his mind quieted. The weight in his chest loosened, just enough to let him breathe again.

He reached up and brushed his fingers against her cheek. "I know," he said softly.

He pulled her closer, their lips meeting again, slow at first, then deeper, tongues sliding  against each other, tasting each other. Months of worry about Dante and everyone had left him starving for this. Her body pressed fully against his now, curves molding to his edges. Her scent wrapped around him, rich and grounded, like damp soil after rain, laced with that faint edge of lavender. His hands roamed her back, skin silky under his callused palms, his fingers splaying over the inward curve of her spine, then lower, gripping the soft swell of her hips.

She pulled back with a quick inhale, woth her lips swollen. "I've wanted you for so long," she murmured in a husky voice, almost breaking any resolve Mark had. She swung her leg over, settling astride his hips, the loose fabric of her shift bunching up her thighs, baring her smooth skin. Her hands trailed down his chest. They dipped lower, over the plane of his stomach, and closed around his cock with was already stiff and leaking at the tip. She pumped him once, twice, with a firm grip, her thumb rubbing slowly over the flushed head, spreading the slick precun over it.

Raven sat up straighter, tugging the shift over her head in a quick motion. It pooled on the floor beside the bed. Her body unfolded before him only making him harder; her breasts were above average though not as large as Kara, they were swaying slightly with her breath, her nipples tight dark points begging to be touched; her waist dipped in, flaring to hips that felt made for his hands. He swallowed hard, his cock throbbing harder at the sight.

She leaned forward, knees digging into the mattress on either side of him, and took hold of him again, lining the blunt head up with her entrance. She rubbed him there, back and forth through her folds, coating him in her wetness; a warm, slippery, heat of hers making him curse under his breath. "So big," she breathed, sinking down slow, inch by stretching inch. Her pussy parted around him, walls hugging every ridge and vein as she took him deeper, the pressure building until she settled flush, his length buried root-deep inside her. They both shivered, a full-body tremor; her inner muscles fluttered squeezing him like a pulse, and he felt it echo up his spine.

"Mmm," she sighed, her forehead dropping to his shoulder for a moment. She lifted her hips, rising until just the tip clung inside, then eased back down, the slide dragging wet friction along his shaft, her lips gripping him snug. Up again, higher this time, breasts lifting with the motion, brushing his chest; down, a little firmer, the impact jolting through them both, her ass settling against his thighs. Her palms flattened on his pecs, fingers spreading for balance, nails biting half-moons into his skin.

He grabbed her thighs, thumbs stroking the tender crease where leg met hip, feeling the quiver in her muscles as she found her rhythm. Shadows played along her skin in the flickering light, but it was her face that held him: lips parted, eyes half-shut, breaths coming quicker now, edged with little whimpers that built into moans. "Mark... right there," she gasped, the words punched out as she circled her hips once, grinding deeper.

He couldn't stay still, he thrust up to match her, his cock driving inside her, the head bumping that spot inside that made her gasp louder, her walls clenching in response. Sweat beaded on his skin, slicking where their bodies met; her arousal leaked down, warm trails soaking his balls, the wet smack of flesh on flesh starting to fill the room. The build kept on building in him, every squeeze of her around him pulling him tighter. She felt it too... the way her thighs trembled "Oh... oh god," moans spilling freer now, her head tipping back as she rode through the ache building in her belly. It crested sudden: her body went rigid, arching off him, pussy clamping down in waves, in tight rippling squeezes that milked his cock like she was trying to pull him apart. "Ahh Mark!" she cried, her nails digging crescents into his chest as she shuddered through it, her wetness gushing hot around him.

That vise-grip undid him. His hands clamped her hips, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh, holding her down as he bucked up, once, twice, grinding inside her as deep as he could. "Raven... shit, coming," he growled, the words gravelly and lost in a groan, cock swelling thicker before it jerked, spilling thick jets of cum inside her, painting her walls until it leaked out around his base. The release hit like a wave, his muscles seizing, vision blurring white as he emptied into her, pulse after pulse leaving him satisfied.

She slumped onto him, face buried in his neck, her pussy still twitching faint aftershocks around his softening length, her breaths hot against his skin. "Don't pull out," she whispered.

thud

The door burst inward.

Harley barreled through, jacket half shrugged off her shoulders, one arm tangled in the sleeve as she yanked it free and tossed it aside.  Her boots kicked off in the chamber with quick thuds, then her shirt pulled over her head mid stride, pale breasts bouncing free, nipples already tight from the cool air. She hit the beds edge running, knees dipping into the mattress. "Hey. No fair starting the party without me."

Raven jolted upright, her cheeks flushing deep under her grey skin, shadows flaring wild like startled wings along her arms and back. She scrambled to tug the sheet up over her chest, but Harley was already vaulting onto the mattress, her pants shucked down to her ankles and kicked away in a flurry, landing astride Marks legs with a whoop, her wild blonde curls bouncing around her face. Her bare pussy brushed his thigh leaving a little snail trial on him. "Move over, birdy."

"Harley." Raven hissed, mortified heat crawling up her neck, voice sharp with surprise. The protest dissolved into a gasp as Harley leaned in close, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss. Lips pressed hard, lipstick smearing red across Ravens chin, teeth nipping her bottom lip before tongues tangled wet and urgent, sliding deep. Harleys hand slid down to cup Ravens breast, fingers kneading the soft flesh, thumb circling the nipple slow until it stiffened into a hard peak, sending little shocks through Ravens chest.

Marks pulse kicked back to life beneath them, his cock twitching  against Harleys thigh as she ground down playful, her curves plush and warm pressing into him. He felt the heat of her skin, the slight dampness between her legs already building. "Harley, get over here," Mark growled roughly with fresh arousal in his voice, his hands reaching up to pull her closer.

Before he could catch his breath, Galatea filled the doorway, her simple outfit discarded in a heap behind her. Blue eyes smoldered with intensity as she crossed the room in three long strides, shedding her pants as she went, kicking them off one leg at a time. Full breasts swayed with each step,m, her pussy lips visible and glistening faintly. "It has been far too long since we engaged in this Mark, I hope you weren't planning on doing it without me." Her breasts were the biggest of the three, being even bigger than Kara's. Though once Kara grew into her prime like Galatea they'd no doubt be the same size.

She climbed onto the bed without pause, the mattress dipping under her weight, knees bracketing Marks chest as she faced the tangle of Raven and Harley. Her hands found Harleys waist first, fingers digging in firm, pulling her back into a grind against Marks hips, feeling the slide of skin on skin. Then her fingers laced with Ravens, drawing her closer into the circle. Harley broke the kiss with a laugh, twisting her torso to claim Galateas lips instead. Their mouths met, their tongues dueling, sucking and pulling, a string of saliva connecting them when they parted for air.

Raven watched, pinned between them and felt her body arching instinctive as Harleys free hand delved between her legs, fingers slicking through the mess of Marks come and her own arousal, parting her folds to rub slow over her clit. The touch sent sparks up Ravens spine, her pussy clenching now. "Ohh," Raven moaned softly, the sound escaping despite her bite on her lip.

Mark surged up from below, his hands gripping Harleys ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh, spreading her open as he guided her down onto his hardening cock. "Harley, you've teased us enough," he growled, thrusting up. The head nudged her entrance, then pushed in with a slow thrust that seated him deep inside her tight cunt, her walls gripping him snugly, her wetness coating his shaft inch by inch.

She moaned long and throaty and started rocking her hips moving back and forth, the motion jolting through them all, her breasts brushing Galateas arm. Her pussy lips stretched around his girth, sliding wet up and down, the friction pulling at his skin with each lift and drop. Mark thrust up to meet her, cock plunging deeper, the head bumping her inner walls, balls slapping soft against her ass. Sweat beaded on her skin, her arousal leaking down to soak his groin.

Galatea leaned forward, breasts pressing soft against Ravens, and captured one of Ravens peaked nipples between her teeth, biting gentle before sucking firm, tongue flicking the tip. Ravens head fell back, a throaty whimper escaping. Shadows coiled loose from her skin, brushing Galateas thighs like cool silk, heightening every slide and pinch. Mark watched, his cock throbbing harder inside Harley, his hands roaming to pinch her nipples, twisting them until she gasped.

Harley rose and fell on Mark, pussy sliding up and down his length, inner muscles rippling with each descent, squeezing him tight as she ground her clit against his base. "Mark, deeper." But then Mark lifted her off with a growl. "My turn with you, Galatea." He flipped Galatea onto her back beside him on the bed. Harleys ass lifted high as she moved to hands and knees, knees spread wide, pussy glistening. Galatea lay back, legs parting as Mark positioned between them. He thrust in slow, her tight walls parting around him, hugging every vein, the heat of her drawing a groan from his throat. He pumped fully inside her, balls deep, cock dragging along her inner ridges, building friction that made her thighs tremble. Galatea wrapped her legs around his waist like vices, heels digging into his back, pulling him closer with each slam, her pussy clenching rhythmically around him, milking him with wet pulses. "Yessss, Mark! Give it to me."

Harley dove between them, tongue flicking where Mark and Galatea joined, lapping at his balls and her clit, then up to suck Galateas clit hard, lips vibrating around it, drawing a shout from her throat. Raven straddled Galateas face, grinding her pussy down onto her mouth, feeling Galateas tongue plunge inside, lapping at her folds, sucking her clit while violet eyes locked on Marks from the side. Ravens hand reached to stroke Harley from behind, fingers plunging deep into her pussy, curling to hit that spot inside, thumb rubbing her ass, pumping in and out. Mark thrust harder into Galatea, his cock swelling with the sights, the wet sounds of skin slapping, tongues slurping, fingers squelching filling the room. Galateas breasts bounced with each drive, nipples hard points that Raven leaned down to suck, tongue circling one while pinching the other.

Mark pulled out of Galatea with a wet pop, cock throbbing hard, still slick with her juices. "Raven, on your back now." Raven slid down, legs hooked over Marks shoulders as he drove into her pussy making his cock drag along her walls, the angle hitting deep, head nudging her cervix with each push. Her walls fluttered around him, shadows blooming fuller to wrap cool tendrils around his balls, heightening the sensation. "Fill me," Raven whispered, breath hitching. Galateas mouth latched onto her breasts, sucking one nipple then the other, teeth grazing, tongue flicking hard. Harleys fingers worked Ravens clit in tight circles, the pressure building fire in her core, her arousal dripping down Marks shaft. Mark pounded deeper, feeling her tighten, the build coiling in his gut as he took her, the other girls enhancing every thrust with their touches.

Then Harley climbed atop Raven in a sixty nine, pussy hovering over her face as tongues buried deep. Raven lapping at Harleys folds, tasting her sweetness, tongue thrusting in and out, lips sucking her clit. While Mark moved took Harley from behind, cock thrusting into her doggy style, balls slapping her skin, hands gripping her hips to pull her back onto him Mark groaned. Galateas hands roamed everywhere, pinching Ravens nipples, stroking Marks balls from below, urging him with slaps to Harleys ass, the smack echoing as Harley moaned into Ravens pussy.

The climax built like a wave, crashing first through Harley with a scream that shook the bedframe. Her body seizing, pussy gushing wet over Ravens tongue, her thighs clamping and walls spasming around Marks cock which was still buried deep. Then Galatea shuddered, fingers plunging into her own pussy as she watched, nails carving red lines down Marks arms when she grabbed him, body locking up in release. Raven followed, her cry muffled against Harleys thigh, her walls fluttering tight around nothing until Mark pulled out of Harley and slid into her, thrusting through her orgasm. Mark held out longest, moving back to Galatea, buried in her clench, thrusting deep as she milked him, spilling hot with a roar that echoed off the walls, cum flooding her in thick spurts, the release dragging groans from them all in echo.

Spent, they collapsed in a sprawl of limbs and sweat slick skin, breaths heaving in unison, the bed a tangle of sheetsss. Harley curled into Marks side, head on his chest, one leg thrown over Ravens thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin. Galatea draped across his thighs, fingers tracing lazy patterns on his abdomen, her breath warm against his hip. Raven nestled close, her palm over his heart, her body pressed along his other side.

Stress relief was important in situations like this.

(AN: So the spar is over and the first sex scene in a while. How have you guys enjoyed the longer chapters. I like them to a certain extent, they feel kinda better idk. Anyway Thragg basically has a star that he has formed inside himself, and he can absorb that star and strengthen himself basically like escanor or kind of like him. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)

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