Life can Change Chapter 87 - Friendly Spar

(AN: I’m trying out a Longer chapter format, let me know what you think. This is around 10k words.)

Viltrum.

The home of the mighty Viltrumites, a race of long-lived beings who stood at the very pinnacle of evolution, no, the pinnacle of life itself. Never had there been a species so perfect, and there likely never would be again. And of course, such a people could only come from a world that reflected their majesty. The planet was one of the system's few bodies, circling an O-type star, a blue sun that burned hotter and brighter than most others in the galaxy. Its brilliance was so fierce that even advanced civilizations found it impossible to approach without risk of annihilation. On Viltrum itself, the light scattered into deep indigo and violet shades, painting the sky with colors that made dawn and dusk unlike anything seen on other worlds.

By those who visited, Viltrum was known as the Shining World, not for the searing brilliance of its star, but for its cities. Towering spires of reflective silver rose as monuments to Viltrumite greatness, so tall they seemed at times to drift above the ground like floating citadels. In the light of day they shined, they truly shined, their surfaces catching the blue star's rays and casting them back in dazzling flashes that could be seen for miles across the plains.

Viltrumites were gods among men, and their world reflected that truth. No ordinary planet could have given rise to such a people. It was a place built on scale and grandeur, a home not merely suited to its inhabitants but worthy of their legend. To those who set foot there, it felt less like a world of mortals and more like a throne among the stars, a realm where power and perfection had shaped not only the people but the very land and sky. Viltrum was not simply a planet.

it was a home fit for gods.

At least those were the thoughts that General Krieg had as he looked out at the city from one of the numerous open balconies on the Spire of Sovereignty. It had been a few hours since the hybrid had come and presented himself before the court and yet he still found himself thinking on the topic. 'Mark Grayson...'

He saw insubordination.

He did not trust him.

He saw danger in him.

A hybrid Viltrumite was indeed powerful, Thragg had managed to bring them back from the point of annihilation by himself, even if weaker Mark Grayson should be capable of similar feats, but General Krieg wondered if that was a good thing. A blade honed on both edges was powerful, but just as likely to turn in the wielder's hand. He was a half-breed born of a world of weakness, carrying the blood of Viltrum but tempered by foreign softness. Krieg had seen warriors like that before, too much mercy in their nature, too much hesitation in their minds. They were all dead. You will never hear of a weak Viltrumite because there are none, they have all long since perished.

Mark was not weak, yet he was weak of mind, or character, he had more in common with the weaklings in the Green Lantern Corps and the Coalition than he did with them. Strength without character was no better than a weapon. What would be done when that weapon was pointed at them?

He was drawn out of his thoughts when a familiar figure landed on the balcony beside him. It was none other than Conquest, one of the most infamous Viltrumites to ever live. Like Mark, he too was a weapon, though this one was more predictable, a loyal beast that could be unleashed upon their enemies. In truth, General Krieg carried shame for the way he had handled Conquest. By the laws of their world, it should have been Conquest standing in his position. Few among their kind, even the eldest, could claim to match his strength. Yet he did not. He remained a warlord, nothing more.

Why?

Because Krieg had exploited the one weakness Conquest could never overcome. Companionship. Conquest was a mad dog who had driven himself into isolation. None wished to stand at his side, for none could know when he might tear them apart in some sudden fit of violence. To shun him for it was a cruel thing, but it was necessary, this way he could provide the comfort that the creature so desperately needed. A creature like Conquest could never be entrusted with command. He was the sword arm, the one who waged war. He was not the mind that shaped strategy or guided the empire. That could not be left in the hands of a rabid beast, no matter his power.

"My friend, you have come," General Krieg said.

Conquest bowed his head as he straightened, his one good eye fixed on General Krieg with a rare hint of reverence. "General I will always answer your call," he said. To most, he was a terror given flesh, a beast whose very presence demanded fear, but to Krieg he showed a loyalty that bordered on devotion.

"Have you punished Nolan yet?" Krieg asked, his eyes turning from the city to the towering figure before him.

Conquest's lip curled into something between a smile and a snarl. "Not yet. I will be the one to do it. No hand but mine will touch him."

Krieg gave a slow nod of understanding. "So be it."

The two stepped from the balcony and let the wind carry them. They drifted through the air with ease, as casual in flight as others were in walking, passing between the shining towers as the city stretched out beneath them. The light of the blue star flashed from every surface, reflecting across their armor as if the world itself acknowledged their presence.

Krieg broke the silence first. "You were present at the meeting. I want to hear your thoughts on the hybrid. On Mark Grayson."

Conquest's face hardened at the name, and his single eye burned with sudden anger. "Were he anyone else, General, I would have torn his head from his shoulders the moment he spoke. Such insolence does not go unanswered. The boy believes himself equal to us. He forgets what he is."

General Krieg inclined his head. "I agree."

He paused, his voice lowering as if weighed with the thought. "Mark Grayson is dangerous. He is power without control, a sword without a hilt. You may strike with it, but in time it will turn in your grasp, and when it does, it will cut just as deep into your own flesh. I fear that one day he will not stand with us, but against us. And when that day comes, all of Viltrum will feel the wound."

Conquest agreed. "But there is nothing to be done; Thragg has welcomed him and won't tolerate any moves being made on him."

Krieg inclined his head, then glanced around as if making certain no one watched. He turned, reached out, and drew Conquest upward. They rose without haste, cutting through the air until the city fell away and the towers became slim lines below them. Above the cloud layer the wind thinned and the blue star's light was cleaner. For a time they floated in that silence, two figures moving easily through an open sky.

"My friend," Krieg said at last. "I hope I can speak plainly with you."

"Of course," Conquest replied.

"I believe Mark Grayson will be a detriment to our race," Krieg said. "He must be eliminated."

Conquest did not hesitate. "I am of the same opinion. But what of the Grand Regent?"

Krieg's expression did not change. "I am worried he is blinded. Finding a fellow hybrid has left him unaware of the danger. He sees kin and forgets caution."

"That makes sense," Conquest said.

Krieg continued, quieter now, as if speaking to himself as much as to his colleague. "Besides, Mark Grayson has given us three children, two of whom are hybrids. We could shape them into warriors for our race. Loyal to Viltrum."

Conquest nodded. "That makes sense."

"Mark is a loss for our race," Krieg said. "But he m was never an ally. He just seeks to use us."

Conquest's jaw worked. "What shall we do then?"

"He is under your purview," Krieg said. "Do you believe you can kill him?"

Conquest's single eye held Krieg's without wavering. "He may be a hybrid, but he is newborn. From what I have heard he stands near Nolan's level in strength. I will crush him like an insect."

"Good," Krieg said. "Very good."

They flew in silence after that, the city a glimmer beneath the clouds, and Krieg let the thought of it settle into the place where plans are made. Viltrum would soon become the supreme race in the galaxy once more.

_____________________________________

While two of Viltrum's greatest plotted his ruin, said hybrid stood in one of the grandest rooms he had ever known, high in the Spire of Sovereignty. The Grand Regent Thragg had assigned him a suite among the finest, intended for him and his family. It contained private chambers for each of them and, in Mark's room, a single large bed should they ever wish to share it. The suite held comforts drawn from Earth and beyond; furnishings chosen for familiarity, systems that adjusted light and climate on command, a kitchen stocked with both Viltrumite provisions and foreign tastes, and automata to attend to every small need.

Harley had explored the place as if she were a child herself, wide-eyed at every detail. She moved from room to room, tugging open doors, running her hands along the strange materials, and marveling at conveniences she had never imagined could exist. Lucy rode on her shoulders the entire time, clutching her mother's hair for balance as she laughed without pause. To Lucy, it was all a playground, a world of endless doors and shining surfaces, and Harley let her treat it as such. They darted between chambers, the child's laughter echoing against walls, until even the servants stationed discreetly at the edges of the suite allowed themselves the faintest of smiles.

"Alright," Mark said at last, raising his voice just enough to carry over Lucy's giggles. "We can look around for a bit longer, but we need to get back to Galatea and Dante soon."

Kara nodded immediately. "He's right. We don't want to leave them waiting."

Anissa, standing near the wide balcony doors, turned from her watch of the city. "Before you go," she said, "you should consider changing into the clothing that has been provided for you. The Viltrumites will take you more seriously if you look as though you stand among them, not apart."

Mark gave a shrug. "Doesn't matter much to me. It's not like I brought a lot with me anyway." He turned toward his room and pushed the door open, finding the wardrobe stocked as promised. Nearly all of it was the same, Viltrumite uniforms. He pulled one free without much thought.

Behind him, a soft crack of displaced air signaled Raven's arrival. She stood just inside the room, Waylon in her arms, the boy clutching at her hair as she gently tried to pry his hands free.

"You're not getting changed?" Mark asked as he stripped off his shirt, glancing over his shoulder.

Raven's expression barely shifted. "Do you believe such an outfit suits me?"

Mark tugged the new tunic over his head, adjusting it across his shoulders. "I think you look good in white," he said simply. A grin tugged at his lips as he added, "You looked good in white on our wedding day."

For the first time, Raven's calm exterior cracked, a faint blush touching her cheeks. "I'll consider it," she murmured. "But for now, this will do."

Mark chuckled, stepping closer. "Fair enough." He leaned in and kissed her, before drawing back to spread his arms. "So? How do I look?"

Raven's eyes studied him for a moment before she nodded. "It suits you."

"Is the conqueror vibe turning you on?" Mark asked, teasing.

Raven allowed a small smile, then drove her fist lightly into his arm. The moment broke however when the sound of a gunshot cracked through the suite, echoing down the hall from the main room.

Mark burst into the main room so fast the door shattered against the frame, fragments scattering across the floor. His heart hammered, his thoughts fixed only on Lucy. But when his eyes took in the scene, he froze. Kara stood in front of Harley, her eyes burning red, heat vision seconds from release. Harley herself had a pistol drawn, the barrel still smoking, her hands trembling with rage. Across from them stood Anissa. The bullet that had struck her slid harmlessly from her forehead as Mark entered, clinking against the polished floor.

"What's going on here?" Mark demanded.

Harley barked a laugh. "What's goin' on? This tall, muscly bitch tried tellin' me I don't get a say with my own kid. Tried to snatch Lucy right outta my arms like I'm some kinda babysitter she can push around. Newsflash sweetheart, nobody takes my daughter. Not Viltrumites, not Kryptonians, not you. So yeah, I pulled the trigger. You got a problem with that?"

Anissa's jaw clenched, anger flashing in her eyes. "You dare—" she started, stepping forward, but Kara's eyes flared hotter, red light spilling across the room.

"One more step," Kara warned, "and I'll burn a hole clean through you."

Mark stepped quickly between them, his arm raised to block Kara, his gaze cutting into Anissa. "Explain."

Anissa's eyes lingered on him, on the lines of the Viltrumite uniform fitted across his frame. It suited him, she liked how it looked on him though she wouldn't admit it. She forced her attention back to his face. "The place we are going is a top-secret facility," she said. "Even most Viltrumites do not know of its location. If that information were exposed, it would cripple the war effort."

Harley scoffed, lowering her gun just enough to sneer. "What, you think I'm gonna squeal? You think I'd sell out my own family? Lady, I've been tortured, beaten, locked in holes you can't even imagine, and I never ratted. You think the Coalition's got somethin' new up their sleeve? Please." She spat to the side, glaring daggers. "I don't break. Not for anyone."

"Harley," Raven's calm voice broke in as she put a hand on her shoulder. "Be calm."

Harley's chest rose and fell with heavy huffs, her hands still twitching, but she let the pistol fall to her side.

"It isn't about that," Anissa said, her voice fulll off irritation. She pointed. "Mark is a Viltrumite. Kara is Kryptonian. And she..."her finger stabbed toward Raven"...is a telepath of no small skill. But you? You're human. If the Coalition got their hands on you, they'd split your head open and drink every secret you've ever had. You wouldn't even know it was happening before you were nothing but an empty shell."

Harley's glare didn't falter, but she muttered under her breath, her tone bitter. "Oh sure, kick the squishy one. Real classy."

Kara let the glow fade from her eyes but her posture stayed tense. "Why do you need Lucy?" she asked evenly. "Dante is the only one who's sick."

"The Grand Regent wishes for all the children to be tested," Anissa replied. "To ensure they are healthy."

"That's not necessary," Raven said flatly, her hand gently stroking Waylon's back as he squirmed against her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. "And I don't like it."

"Neither do I," Harley snapped, back in full swing. "You think I'm gonna let some alien lab rats stick my kid with needles just 'cause Big Boss says so? Hell no."

Anissa's composure cracked, a growl slipping out. "You need to take this seriously."

Mark frowned. "We are."

"You are not," Anissa shot back, her voice rising. Her composure fractured further as she stepped forward, her words almost a shout. "Do you even understand what you are?"

Her sudden fury made both Lucy and Waylon start to cry, their small voices breaking through the air. Anissa stopped, forced herself to breathe, then lowered her voice. "Do you not see?" she said. "You are the first hybrid since the Grand Regent himself. Do you understand what that means? For thousands of years, millions of Viltrumites bred with outsiders, and not a single viable hybrid was born. Thragg's existence was a miracle. A chance so small it should have been impossible. And now, in the span of a few years, there are three more. Do you think that means nothing?"

Her gaze cut to the children, her voice heavy. "Do you know how many imperfect hybrids have died in their first years? Thousands. Their blood betrays them. Their bodies collapse. Is that what you want for your children? To risk that fate?"

Mark frowned at Anissa's words, his jaw tightening. As much as he hated to admit it, there was no lie in what she had said. He exhaled slowly.

"You're right," he said at last. "We don't know anything about Viltrumite DNA. And it would be better to be safe than sorry."

For a moment, Harley bristled, her lips parting as if to argue again, but Mark's next words cut through her.

"But I won't separate my daughter from her mother," he said, voice resolute. There was no give in him now. "Not for you. Not for Thragg. Not for anyone."

Anissa's eyes narrowed. "That is not—"

"No," Mark interrupted, his tone like iron. "That's final." He turned to Raven, his expression softening slightly. "Cover her vision when we travel. That way she won't know the location."

Raven nodded once, already understanding.

Anissa clenched her fists, her teeth grinding, but she knew the line had been drawn. She could not drag Harley away by force, not here, not with Mark and Kara standing at her side. And she could not return to the Grand Regent with news that they had refused outright.

"Very well," she said at last, her voice tight. "I will wait for you outside."

Without another word, she turned and strode out of the chamber. Mark stood in the silence Anissa left behind. The door slid shut with a hiss, but the tension in the room stayed like smoke after a fire. Harley still had Lucy clutched tight against her chest, rocking her a little too fast while glaring at the door. Kara's arms were folded, her eyes dimming from that angry red glow, but her jaw was still tightt. Raven didn't say anything, she just stood near the corner with Waylon in her arms comforting the baby that had just been crying.

Mark exhaled slowly and ran a hand down his face. He crossed the room and crouched in front of Harley first. He reached for her wrist, gently lowering her hand before she squeezed Lucy too tightly. "Hey," he said softly, meeting her eyes. "She's okay. You're okay. Nobody's taking her away from you. Not now, not ever."

Harley's lip curled, still trembling with leftover fury. "That broad thinks she can just march in here and start callin' the shots? She's lucky I only put one round in her. I don't give a damn if bullets bounce off her head—she tries that again, I'll find somethin' that doesn't."

Mark pulled her closer by the arm, leaning in until his forehead touched hers. "You don't have to fight alone anymore," he told her, voice steady. "I'm right here. She's not getting near Lucy. I promise."

For a moment Harley's shoulders stayed yense, but Lucy babbled against her chest and reached a tiny hand toward Mark. Harley huffed, half a laugh and half a choke, before she leaned in and kissed him hard,. "Alright, big guy. I'm calm. For now." She nudged his chest with her fist before handing Lucy over so the baby could grab at his face.

Mark stood, cradling Lucy, and turned toward Kara. She hadn't moved, her arms still crossed. She looked more hurt than angry now.

"Kara," he said gently. "Talk to me."

She looked at him, her blue eyes softer than her stance. "I hate that we're even listening to them. I feel as if we know too little about what they want to do to the children." She stepped forward and pressed her palms against his chest, holding him in place. "What if she's right, though? What if they try something with Lucy, or Waylon, or..."Her voice broke slightly. "...with Dante?"

Mark shifted Lucy into one arm and pulled Kara against him with the other, his hand cupping the back of her head. He pressed a kiss to her hairline and held her there. "I'm not letting them. Not Dante, not any of them. We'll get him the help he needs, but on our terms."

Kara stayed pressed against him, her cheek against his chest until she nodded. "Okay. I trust you," she whispered.

Mark looked to Raven last. She hadn't moved, but her eyes were on him. Waylon stirred against her shoulder, whining softly, and she stroked his back with small circles of her palm.

"You're thinking about what she said," Mark guessed.

Raven didn't deny it. "Hybrids dying young." Dhe said in a calm boice, but her grip on Waylon tightened just slightly. "It wasn't a lie. It worries me that Waylon may suffer the same affliction as Dante in the future."

Mark crossed to her, Lucy still perched on his arm, and kissed the top of Waylon's head before leaning down to kiss Raven softly. "Waylon's strong. Considering who his Grandfather is it's probably safe to say that he will be fine."

For the first time, Raven's hand moved from Waylon's back to rest on Mark's chest, her thumb brushing the line of his collarbone. "You can't promise that."

"No," Mark admitted quietly. "But I believe it."

Raven searched his face, then nodded. She leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, before settling back.

Mark finally let out a long breath, shifting Lucy so she sat between his arm and chest. He looked around at them and said, "We stick together. That's how we get through this."

Harley snorted, but this time it was softer. "You're real sappy, ya know that?"

Mark grinned faintly. "I'm sure you love it."

Harley smirked, leaning up to kiss his jaw. "Don't push it."

Mark lingered a little longer, Lucy squirming in his arms until she managed to grab his nose, making him grunt and wrinkle his face. Harley snickered at that, tension bleeding away as she ruffled Lucy's hair. Raven shifted Waylon to her other arm, and the boy tucked his face into her neck with a small hum, still calmed by her presence. For a moment it almost felt like they weren't on a hostile world. But the reprieve couldn't last. Mark looked toward the door Anissa had stormed out of. "We need to check on Galatea and Dante and go to the lab," he said. He shifted Lucy carefully into Harley's arms and straightened. "We've been here too long already."

The door slid open again, and Anissa stepped back inside, her expression composed, though her eyes still flickered with restrained irritation. "You don't need to return to the ship," she said plainly.

Kara frowned immediately. "What do you mean?"

"Galatea and Dante have already been transferred to the facility," Anissa explained. "Specialized equipment was brought directly to your son. They're preparing him now."

Mark's jaw tightened. "You moved him without telling me?"

"It was necessary," Anissa said, meeting his eyes directly. "Time is not on his side. The sooner he begins treatment, the better his chances."

Harley bristled, hugging Lucy tighter. "Ya know, lady, you really gotta stop makin' decisions for people's kids without askin'. Ain't exactly polite."

Anissa ignored her, turning instead toward Mark. "Do you want to see him or not?"

Mark exhaled through his nose, forcing down the anger curling in his chest. He glanced at Kara, at Raven, at Harley. They were waiting on him. He nodded once. "Let's go."

The journey to the lab took them through the deepest veins of Viltrum's capital, Raven covered Harley's sight when they left and made a platform for the both of them to stand on; she bitched and complained but didn't do anything to remove it. They were escorted by Anissa and two guards down underground and downvast corridors of metal, lit by streams of pale light that seemed to come from nowhere. The deeper they went, the quieter it became. When they were inside Harley was able to see again which she very much appreciated.

She walked close beside Mark, Lucy perched on her hip, her eyes darting around the place with visible suspicion. "Gotta say, hon," she muttered, "I seen nicer prisons. Less shiny, sure, but they didn't give me the creeps like this place does."

Kara's gaze swept over the alien guards they passed, her lips pressing thin. "She's not wrong. This doesn't feel like a hospital."

"It's not," Raven said quietly, her hand on Waylon's back as he dozed against her shoulder. "It's a lab."

They turned down another corridor, this one lined with wide glass panels. Behind them, alien species worked at long benches, some insectoid, others amphibian or crystalline, each using unique physiology to manipulate tools and screens. Some glanced up only briefly, but in those looks Mark caught fear. Fear of him. Fear of all of them.

"These are the intellectual races," Anissa explained as they walked,l. "They were conquered generations ago. Their intelligence is... useful. They serve as engineers, scientists, record keepers. Their loyalty is ensured."

"Yeah, real heartwarming," Harley said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Kidnap the brainiacs, chain 'em up, make 'em work. Real noble of ya."

Anissa's eyes cut to her but she said nothing, simply continuing forward.

Mark looked past the glass again, at rows of racks holding weapons, as well as massive containers filled with liquid that had what could only be described as monsters inside them.

He looked at Anissa. "And all this is supposed to help Dante?"

"The lab serves many purposes," she replied smoothly. "Yours is only one of them."

Mark fell silent at that, but his mind stayed on what he'd seen. He'd thought Viltrum's might rested solely in its warriors. But looking he realized their strength was layered deeper than he'd assumed.

When they finally reached the inner sanctum of the lab, the doors opened into a wide chamber full of machinery. Tanks of liquid lined the walls, and platforms extended in every direction, each filled with equipment that glowed faintly in the cold light. In the center stood a raised platform where Dante's small form was already prepared, surrounded by Viltrumite overseers and alien assistants working quickly.

Galatea was already there when they entered the lab, standing near one of the observation windows that looked down into the medical chamber below. She had changed, dressed in a Viltrumite uniform nearly identical to Kara's. She stood stiffly, arms crossed, but her eyes softened when she saw Mark.

Mark moved to her first. "Galatea," he said.

She inclined her head slightly. "He's here. They moved him as soon as the equipment was ready. I stayed with him. I didn't want them doing anything without us knowing."

Mark's eyes lingered on her for a moment, then shifted past her shoulder to the sight of the medical crib suspended at the center of the lab. Dante lay inside, thin beams of blue light passing over him. The machines surrounding the cradle hummed and ticked, streams of alien script flickering across floating displays. For a long moment Mark couldn't move closer; the rise and fall of his son's chest looked shallow, as if each breath was a fight.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself forward. His hand brushed Galatea's shoulder briefly in wordless gratitude before moving on. Kara followed him closely, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Raven's eyes locked on Dante immediately, her expression carefully neutral but her aura darker than usual, betraying the churn underneath. Harley muttered under her breath as she carried Lucy, "Christ, looks like somethin' straight outta one of them mad scientist horror flicks."

The lead scientist stepped forward then. He was lean, almost gaunt, with elongated eyes that moved quickly between instruments. Two insectoid assistants hovered at his side, their carapaces clattering as they shifted datapads and racks of vials into place.

"The child's condition is critical but not irreversible," the scientist said. "His genetic structure is unstable. The Viltrumite strain is trying to assert dominance, but it is opposed by the foreign blood within him. The two are tearing at each other. If left untreated, his body will collapse within days."

Mark's jaw tightened, but he forced his voice to remain calm. "What's the treatment?"

The scientist gestured to a case one of the assistants carried. Inside were rows of sealed vials filled with a faintly glowing amber fluid. "A serum. Once injected, it will bind to his cells and stabilize the competing bloodlines. Afterward, he will be placed into a regenerative tank. There, the serum will take hold over several months and restructure his DNA until balance is achieved."

Mark's eyes narrowed. "What's in the serum?"

The scientist hesitated. His lips parted, but before he could speak, a new voice filled the chamber.

"It is a compound made with the blood of our King."

Every head turned. Thragg entered through one of the tall doors at the far side of the lab, flanked by no guards. He wore no ceremonial armor now, only the simple white and crimson uniform, yet his presence filled the room.

Mark's brow furrowed. "King?"

Thragg stopped beside the observation platform and looked directly at him. "Before I was Regent, before the Council, there was Argyll. The first and l last true king of Viltrum." He explained. "When the Guardians of the Universe turned us into what we are, it was Argyll who endured the first and most brutal changes. His blood was... different. Hundreds of years ago it was discovered that it could as stabilizing agent when introduced into a Hybrids bloodstream. We used it rarely at the time as a a had not yet perfected the formula."

Mark blinked, thrown. "You're saying my son's life depends on a king who's been dead for... what, thousands of years?"

Thragg inclined his head. "Yes. Argyll's DNA remains viable. We keep it safeguarded, and only I authorize its use. Your son will survive because of it."

Kara's hand tightened around Mark's forearm. "So you're putting alien king's blood into him."

Thragg's gaze turned on her, his tone unchanging. "Not alien, he is a Viltrumite himself. The foundation of us all. If not for Argyll, there would be no Viltrumites."

Harley scoffed loudly from the back. "So let me get this straight. You're sayin' you got some creepy king-blood juice sittin' in a fridge somewhere, and now you're gonna turn the kid into, what, Royal Viltrum Jr.? Christ, even Gotham's villains don't run rackets this weird."

Thragg's eyes shifted to her, and for a moment Mark thought he would snap. But instead the Grand Regent gave the faintest of smiles. "You have fire. I see why he keeps you."

Harley muttered, "Yeah well, you ain't seen nothin' yet," and pressed a kiss against Lucy's cheek.

Mark's shoulders were tight. The explanation made sense in its own way, but it didn't ease the weight in his chest. Dante's life resting on some ancient king's bloodline... it was not a comfort, and yet there was no choice. He nodded slowly. "Then do it. Just make sure he lives."

Thragg regarded him with an intensity that felt like a test. Then, after a pause, he nodded once. "It will be done." He lingered another beat, then his expression shifted, the faintest grin curling his mouth. "But before that, how about we circle around to our conversation from before. ."

Mark knew what was coming.

"Our spar," Thragg said.

Mark looked at Kara, at Galatea, at Harley holding Lucy, at Raven rocking Waylon quietly at her side. He exhaled hard through his nose, then turned back. "Fine, let's do it."

Raven stepped forward before anyone else could move. "I'm coming with you," she said simply.

Mark hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Alright." He kissed her, then turned back to Thragg.

Thragg gestured toward the side corridors, his tone almost amused. "Then let us see, Mark Grayson, what kind of warrior you truly are."

Kara stepped in close before Mark could follow Thragg. Her hands came up to his chest, fingers pressing lightly into the Viltrumite uniform he now wore. "Be careful," she said. Her blue eyes searched his,. "He's not like the others. Don't underestimate him."

Mark nodded. He put a hand to the side of her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I'll be back," he said simply.

Harley butted in next, shifting Lucy against her hip. "Yeah, well you better be," she snapped, though her voice wavered just enough that it betrayed her nerves. She jabbed a finger at him with her free hand. "Don't you go doin' somethin' stupid like gettin' yourself torn in half, got it? 'Cause if you do, I'm marchin' right up to Viltrum Heaven or wherever the hell you'd end up, and I'm draggin' your ass back down, there is no way in hell I'm being a single mother again."

Mark couldn't help the small huff of a laugh that escaped him. He leaned forward, kissed Lucy's dark hair, then pressed a quick kiss to Harley's lips. "Don't worry. It's just a spar."

Galatea stood a little apart, her posture more rigid than the others. When Mark turned his eyes to her, she let out a sharp breath through her nose. "Don't get reckless," she said flatly. "I'd rather not have to explain to your children that their father was an idiot."

Mark smiled faintly. She wasn't as good at hiding the emotion as she thought. He stepped over, placed a hand briefly against her upper arm, and leaned closer. "I'll be fine. Watch the kids for me."

She gave the smallest nod.

Mark straightened, looking at all of them in turn—Kara, Harley, Galatea with Waylon, Lucy reaching a little hand toward himl. "Stay here. Look after them. I'll see you soon."

Then he turned and followed Thragg out, Raven stepping to his side as the heavy doors slid shut behind them. Thragg walked with his hands clasped behind his back. After a few moments of silence he spoke. "You are not human," he said to Raven without turning his head. "Your aura feels... darker. Your parentage is not of earth are they?"

Raven's steps didn't falter. "It doesn't matter," she said flatly. "My origins aren't important."

Thragg glanced at her sidelong, eyes narrowing in faint amusement. "I once encountered someone who felt similar. Long ago, in another system a far away place." He paused. "He was powerful. Unstable. His presence burned like a wound in reality."

Mark's stomach tightened at that. Another child of Trigon? Had Thragg seen one of Raven's half-siblings in the past? He didn't voice it, as he knew Raven wouldn't want to talk about it.

Thragg continued as if the silence didn't matter. "Your son Waylon, is it?" His eyes flicked briefly to Raven, then back forward. "I am eager to see whether he will display any aptitude for your energy manipulation. Such an ability, combined with his Viltrumite heritage, would create a weapon the galaxy has never known."

Raven's face remained still, but Mark caught the faint flare of her aura at the mention of her son as a weapon.

Thragg went on. "In fact, all of your children display potential. The Kryptonian. The Earthling. And you." He looked back at Mark then, his smile faint. "I am curious whether your daughter will inherit the same hybrid powers you wield."

Mark frowned. "She isn't a hybrid and even if she was...," he said firmly. "Her mother's human."

Thragg chuckled. "And yet bloodlines have a way of revealing themselves, sometimes in ways that defy expectation. Time will tell." He waved a hand, as though brushing the thought aside, though his eyes lingered a little too long on Mark's face.

They left the secret base and headed to the spire, and the sound of distant voices began to filter in, they were quiet at first, then growing louder, echoing through the halls. Thragg smiled. "Word has already spread. All Viltrumites currently on-world will be in attendance. They are eager to see a hybrid clash with me."

Mark's jaw tightened. He didn't care for the spectacle, didn't care about the audience. "I'm not here to put on a show."

"No," Thragg said smoothly. "You are here to show the rest of our race why they should not question your presence."

The doors at the end of the corridor parted, and the roar of the gathered crowd washed over them like a wave. The arena was not separate from the spire. It was built into it, a massive chamber hollowed out from the core. The walls were smooth white metal that climbed high, tier after tier, forming rows where Viltrumites stood shoulder to shoulder. The ceiling was open to the blue sky, light from the star flooding the chamber.

Over a hundred Viltrumites had gathered. Mark's eyes swept across the crowd. He saw his father standing near the front,  Anissa stood beside him,, following every step Mark took. Lucan was further back, his hands clenched into fists as if he was eager to see Mark fall. The rest were strangers, but every gaze on him was the same, each one eager for the fight.

The noise was constan as people talked and shouted. But when Thragg raised one hand, silence dropped through the chamber like a stone.

Mark walked forward into the center, Raven behind him until she stopped at the edge. The floor was plain metal, no markings, no rings. Just space. His boots echoed as he stopped across from Thragg.

Thragg looked at him, his smile faint. "This is where strength is measured. Nothing else matters here."

"The shields should be enough to contain the fight, but in the event they do not I suggest we take to the skies lest we level the city," Thragg suggested.

Mark nodded, he then got himself ready. He rolled his shoulders m, squared his stance, and lifted his fists.

Thragg's eyes lit faintly blue. "Good," he said. "Then let us begin."

The arena quieted as Mark and Thragg drifted into the center, their bodies suspended in the air. The crowd pressed close to the edges, hundreds of eyes fixed on them, the weight of Viltrum itself watching. Mark clenched his fists, keeping his eyes locked on Thragg. Thragg gave him a faint smile, as if he were humoring him.

"Don't hold back," Thragg said.

Mark didn't. He shot forward with his fist leading. His knuckles cracked against Thragg's forearm as the Regent blocked it casually. Mark followed with a straight punch toward the ribs, then a snapping kick to the chest, but Thragg shifted his weight midair and deflected both, the force scattering out into the walls. Thragg struck back instantly. His jab snapped against Mark's cheek, then a reverse punch landed in his his other, knocking him back through the air. Before Mark could recover, Thragg's knee shot upward, colliding with his torso, folding him briefly.

Thragg went for another punch, but Mark caught Thragg's wrist, twisted, and shoved it aside. He lashed out with a hook that caught Thragg across the jaw, sending him sliding backward through the air. The crowd let out a collective roar as Thragg steadied himself, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand.

"Good," Thragg said, grinning faintly. "You hit harder than Nolan did at your age."

Mark growled and surged forward again. He fell into a roundhouse kick that Thragg leaned back from, the heel just grazing his face. Mark used the spin to bring his leg down in a hammering stomp from above, but Thragg caught his ankle with one hand, twisted, and flung him sideways. Mark spun through the air, righted himself, and shot back at him. They clashed midair, fists striking against fists, shockwaves rumbling across the chamber. Mark pressed forward with a flurry; a jab to the chin, a cross to the chest, then another fist aimed for the temple. Thragg blocked each, then slipped inside his guard. His elbow snapped into Mark's nose, making his head whip back, and before Mark could breathe, Thragg slammed his knee up into his stomach and spun him around by the shoulder.

Mark snarled and countered by wrapping his arm around Thragg's and yanking him down, trying to drag him into a lock. Thragg let it happen, then pivoted in the air, slipped out, and swept Mark's legs with a sharp kick and with one hand slapped downward that sent him flipping forward before he landed hard on the metal floor, cracks spidering beneath him.

He pushed himself up quickly, glaring up at Thragg. "You aren't taking this seriously..."

Thragg floated down a little closer, smiling thinly. "It is hard to when you fight like one of those ground based life forms. Flying is not a tool you turn on and off, a Viltrumites heritage is the sky."

Mark launched himself upward with both fists raised. He smashed one into Thragg's chest, the other into his shoulder, then tried to drive him down. Thragg let the hits land, then shoved forward with his forehead, cracking it against Mark's nose. Mark reeled, but Thragg grabbed him by the arm, spun, and hurled him across the chamber. Mark crashed into the wall, the metal crumpling under the impact.

He tore free and rocketed back, throwing a series of rapid kicks; one to the chest, one to the side of the head, then spinning into a back kick that clipped Thragg's chin and forced him back slightly.

Thragg steadied himself again, his grin widening. "Better. But still too slow, you have not been training your speed have you?"

Before Mark could follow, Thragg blitzed him, his hands a blur. He slammed a fist into Mark's ribs, then an uppercut that snapped his head back, then drove a straight punch into his chest. Mark coughed but grabbed at Thragg's arm. "Unlike our strength which grows with every battle, our speed does not increase to the same degree, no it must be trained." Thragg didn't resist, he twisted with the grip, flipped Mark upside down, and dropped him like a hammer into the floor again.

Mark rolled and sprang back to his feet, his breathing hard but steady. "You're enjoying this."

Thragg chuckled. "I am, you are the only other like me, I'm excited to see how strong you are at your juvenile age."

"I'll show you then!" Mark snarled and shot forward again. He jabbed twice at Thragg's face, then cracked him in the jaw with a heavy right hand. As Thragg drifted back slightly, Mark lunged, wrapping both arms around him in a bear hug. He twisted, flipping Thragg over, and drove him down toward the floor in a crushing suplex. The arena shook when Thragg hit.

The crowd gasped, but Thragg was already laughing. He shoved Mark off, rolled smoothly to his feet in the air, and darted forward. His fist slammed into Mark's gut, folding him, then another crushed against his back as he spun him around. He caught Mark by the throat, lifted him high, and then flung him upward.

Mark righted himself mid-flight, wiping blood from his lip. He shot downward with a diving punch. Thragg caught it with his palm, absorbing the full force without budging, then shoved him away with a kick to the stomach.

"You're strong," Thragg said calmly. "But strength is not enough against me, you'll need to be smarter than that."

Mark bared his teeth and surged forward again, throwing a hook to the jaw and then a rising uppercut. Thragg blocked both, slammed his elbow into Mark's temple, then grabbed his arm and wrenched it behind his back midair. With a twist, he hurled Mark across the chamber again, his body skipping along the metal like a stone across water. Mark rolled back to his feet. Thragg floated effortlessly in front of him, his posture perfect.

"Is that all?" Thragg asked mockingly. "Or will you show me something worth my time?"

Mark wiped his mouth and reset his stance. He drew a slow breath and tightened his hands. The air around him bent and seemed to warp slightly. Dust lifted from the floor and hung in place.

Thragg's eyes narrowed. "There it is."

Mark moved. The space between them collapsed. He didn't push off like before; he folded the air and let it pull him. He was on Thragg in an instant, faster than his body alone should allow. His fist crashed into Thragg's forearm guard and the impact rattled the tiers. He chained a straight punch into Thragg's sternum, the force doubled by his gravity manipulation.

The spire shook under the power.

Thragg slid back a hand's breadth and smiled. "Yes..."

Mark stepped in again, gravity dragging his hips through the line of each strike. His fist snapped to Thragg's face, the cross hammered centerline, and the floor shook each time his knuckles landed. Thragg blocked and parried, but the weight behind each blow kept stacking.

Mark's heel whipped up in a tight spin and clipped Thragg's temple. As Thragg drifted, Mark grabbed his wrist mid-rotation, rolled his shoulder, and slung him in an arc. Thragg flew end-over-end toward the wall.

"Good," Thragg laughed as he tumbled.

Mark didn't let him settle. He folded the air again, dove under Thragg's fall, caught him by the waist, and dragged him down in a steep plunge. He released a hand-span above the floor and let Thragg bounce in a hard ricochet. Mark met the rebound with an elbow across the ribs, then locked a hand behind Thragg's neck and drove a rising knee under the chin. The blow lifted Thragg higher.

Thragg grinned through it, eyes bright. "More! Give me more!"

Mark twisted with the lift and spun Thragg into a descending corkscrew. As Thragg tried to square his shoulders, Mark shot up under him and drove an uppercut through the centerline, sending him vertical. Mark pivoted on the plane of his own field and snapped a back kick into Thragg's ribs, sending him skidding sideways across the air.

Mark chased. He circled at a speed amplified by his subtle use of hravity. He caught an arm, turned the circle into an outward fling, and hurled Thragg across the span. Before Thragg could steady himself, Mark rose above him, seized his shoulder on the upswing, and dragged him down in a straight dive. They dropped fast. At the last instant, Mark released, rose a body length, and slammed both hands down between Thragg's shoulder blades. The floor cratered. Shockwaves rolled up the tiers.

Silence held for a beat.

Thragg floated up through the dust, face lit with open delight. "Yes! Yes! This is it! Show me what makes you special!"

Mark didn't answer. He yanked the air again. The pull around his arms tightened. He fired a probing jab at Thragg's eye. Thragg slipped outside, but Mark's cross chased him and smashed chest. Mark's hip turned through and snapped a round kick into Thragg's neck. As Thragg drifted, Mark latched the forearm and spun, slinging him away while Mark slingshotted after.

Mark hooked an arm through Thragg's, and wrenched him into a tight spiral. Thragg tried to square, but Mark got there first and drove an uppercut through the middle. Thragg rose. Mark pivoted and smashed a spinning back kick across the ribs, sending Thragg sliding across the aire.

Mark bent the air. He shot forward along the slip. He latched a grip at Thragg's shoulder and wrist, rotated around him at speed, and built force in a tight circle. He flung Thragg outward on the peak of the arc. Thragg streaked away. Mark climbed, cut across the fall, grabbed the forearm mid-arc, and drove him straight down from above. At the last instant, Mark let go, clapped both hands together on Thragg's back, and hammered him into the floor. The chamber boomed. Dust plumed. Cracks ran from the impact in long lines.

Thragg floated out of the crater without a mark on him. He rolled his shoulders once and laughed from his gut. "Now the fight has started."

"Enough warm-up," he said.

(AN: So a pretty long chapter, I'm gonna try do more long chapters though tbh idk if you guys like it I might do a poll. Longer chapters take more time, so you'll have to wait longer. Anyway hope you enjoy.)

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