Susan is nestled into the curve of my arm, the unalike texture of her softness pressed against the steel-sharpened muscle of mine into an untypical calming clasp. She sleeps, her eyes closed, a small upward curl on her lip, blissfully unaware in the warmth and safety she is experiencing that I provide. The Baxter Building, citadel of science, of heroism, looms over, oblivious of the betrayal being engineered amidst its gleaming halls.
I cradle Susan's watermelon ass with one hand, feeling the heat of her skin through the thinning material of her costume. In my mind's eye the Conqueror's Ledger System is activated by a icy blue light, reading out her essential statistics as well as the DP value I've accrued from our clandestine romps.
The Dinosaurus had cooperated so willingly in this ghastly game. His cunning mind had worked its will on the security of the Baxter Building, allowing me onto Susan's quarters undetected by the others. I remember how I had told him of my affair with Susan, his reptilian eyes glinting coldly with a hint of amusement. He had offered his assistance with a rumbling laugh that had shaken the very heart of our twisted bargain.
We had learned FF's habits, their patterns of behavior, their weak spots. We knew where Reed lost track of time over his research, where Sue was overlooked, where the rest of them went out for patrol. Each time I went to see her, the buzz of dishonesty coursed through me like a potent drug.
I finally bought myself a perk thanks to Susan Storm that would allow me to make a reputation for myself within the Marvel Universe.
Trans-Material Evolution (CL 7.5, 2 Billion DP)
Your flesh, blood, and bone have been reconfigured into a mixture of exotic transmatter and organic tissue, rendering you physically one of the cosmic elite.
I can feel the new energy coursing through me, a crescendo of destruction and beauty that echoes deep within my being. The Trans-Material Evolution rebuilt my body, and I am a monstrosity even for the gods. Every one of my cells resonates with new life as I extend my fingers, grasping the weight of the universe within them. The HUD that fills so much of my vision blinks as it re-calculates my stats, the figures swirling higher with a dizzying display of power.
Susan rolls silently, her breath catching as she feels the change of tension in the room. The Butcher's Voice urges sweet temptations into my mind, suggesting the impossible. It promises the wealth of the DP that would have been mine, had I broken her delicate body under my hand, more invulnerable then ever. I clench my teeth, hard, and force the evil voice silent. I am Conquest, after all, and I choose my battles carefully.
I gently but firmly extricate myself from her arms. She opens her eyes, sleepiness yielding for a moment to the fear and expectation beneath. "You're leaving?" she whispers, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.
"Yes," I answer, voice low and coarse, "but I'll return."
Susan's eyes widen silently, her outstretched hands, her fingers trembling, reaching out toward me as she struggles to grab onto what she is sure is slipping from her grasp. "Why?" she cries, the sound breaking, her voice unsteady from a mix of despair as well as rage. "What is so important out there that you can't stay with me?"
"Reed," I whisper, stroking her cheek with a callused thumb. "And the world. This is not a romance novel."
Her eyes clench, the determined set of the Invisible Woman asserting itself forward. "But, it could be," she says, her chin shaking though her voice is steady. "If you want it to be."
The Butcher's Voice rasps harshly in my ear, urging me forward. "Shatter her," it growls, "make her beg for your caress, your notice." But I restrain myself, the spark of human warmth a flicker of light amidst the boundless night.
"I have things to do, Sue," I say to her, running the back of my hand along her cheek before letting it drop beside me. "Things that require my undivided attention."
I get out of bed, the coldness of the room striking me like a slap of reality. My HUD flashes once more, with a set of night tasks listed out. The Butcher's Voice growls approvingly as I switch into another set of apparel—a plain polo shirt, loose-fit slacks, the blandness so jarringly out of place with the storm raging inside me.
I lean forward, planting a gentle forehead kiss on Susan, the tender touch a contrast to the monster I have become. She closes her eyes as I touch and kiss her, her tense body relaxing for a moment, slowing her breathing. The kiss is a deceit, a gentle one, trying to calm the pain of leaving her soon behind. The warmth of her skin on mine sends a shiver through me, human part of me craving more of this forbidden gentleness.
But the Conqueror's Ledger remains with me, its cold reminder of who I am. I step back, eyes' HUD reoriented on the next assignment. The blue glow disappears as I exit Susan's bedroom, leaving her to the tousled bed and nagging self-doubts already sure to torment her.
The halls of the Baxter Building stretch out before me, ominously quiet, the specters of scientific achievement standing over me silently. I make my way through to Dinosaurus's quarters, the System urging me on with unrelenting force. The door creaks open, and I see my partner lost in thought before rows of banks of display screens, each one of them displaying detailed models of the world's ecosystems.
He lifts his head as I make my approach, his twisted smile curling up his ancient face. "Ah, Conquest," he rasps, his deep boom of a voice seeming to echo off the walls themselves. "You arrive just in time."
The space is cluttered with technology and fossils, an odd combination of past and present perfectly suited for him. His models dominate the center, his eyes aglow with a fever that teeters on the cusp of madness. His massive fingers thread through the holoscreens, fashioning the information with accuracy that doesn't match his bulk or force.
"Reed and Ben have been... enlightening," he says, his smile expanding. "Their knowledge of Earth's ecosystems is vast, yet so close-minded. They only see things they want to preserve, not things they need to destroy."
I nodded, identifying with his emotions all too well. "And what have you learned from them?"
Dinosaurus's eyes flickered with interest. His tail thumped behind him as he gestured at the screens. "They talk about balance, protecting life," he said. "Where's the fun in that? Where's the thrill of watching things burn?"
I leaned against the doorway, my new body humming with energy. "And do they listen to you?"
He chuckled, low and rough. The floor vibrated under the sound. "Yes. Reed finds my approach unusual, but he's curious. Ben? He sees me as someone who challenges the order, someone from a world that fears change."
I glanced at him, feeling a flicker of respect. He was clever. The way he slid into their routines, influenced them without them noticing—it was impressive. Even the Butcher's Voice would have to acknowledge it.
Then there was Johnny Storm. He was volatile, a tightly wound spring. He'd kept his distance from me lately, his gaze sharp whenever our paths crossed. Smart, instinctive. Hot-headed, yes, but careful enough to notice what was going on.
He had probably noticed Susan's attention, how she lingered when I passed, how her eyes followed me. I could almost feel his suspicion tracing my movements as I walked the halls. Johnny Storm, cautious, controlled—for now.
I had work to do. I left Dinosaurus to his screens and headed toward the conference center, where I'd been told Reed Richards was waiting. Voices carried faintly through the halls, low and tense. Electricity hummed faintly between my fingers as I approached the door.
Inside, Reed was stretched over a holographic display, studying the world in detail. Abigail Brand stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"Conquest," Reed said, glancing at me. "I didn't expect you here."
Abigail's gaze fixed on me immediately. She was trained for this. S.W\.O.R.D. agents could see through masks. The Butcher's Voice whispered, but I ignored it. I was in control.
"Reed," I said quietly, "you're busy."
He waved me off without looking up.
Abigail's stare didn't waver. "You know there are new security restrictions," she said, calm but firm.
I nodded. "I noticed the extra drones."
Reed turned fully, his long frame moving easily into a standing posture. "Yes," he said. "Your new energy signature drew attention. Security protocols changed."
My heart skipped. The Butcher's Voice reminded me of the risks, but I tried to mask my excitement. "Nothing to worry about," I said, forcing a casual smile.
Abigail's eyes narrowed further. "There have been unexplained surges near the Baxter Building," she said. "They match your signature."
The Butcher laughed in my ear. *So much for a low profile.*
I forced my muscles to relax and met her gaze. "Miss Brand, it's all part of research," I said, keeping my voice even. "I've been exploring new ways to control my abilities for better results."
Reed didn't look at me. "Abigail, this is Conquest," he said, calm but firm. "He's been helpful. He's shared knowledge about the universe I didn't have before."
She didn't let it pass. "Reed," she said, voice sharp. "I'm here for evaluation. This isn't a social call."
Reed's expression tightened. He could sense I wasn't telling everything, but he was drawn by the knowledge I could provide. "Conquest," he said, leaning slightly forward, "I'm sure you'll cooperate with Abigail's review."
"Of course," I said, forcing it out. The words felt rough in my mouth.
Abigail stepped closer. Her hair was pulled back tight, her eyes scanning me like a judge. "Let's begin," she said.
The upper tier of the Baxter Building was quiet. The wind whipped past the windows. Outside, the city went on. I didn't notice it. All I could focus on was the tension in the room, the assessment that Abigail was about to begin.
She stood in front of me, still and exact. "Your beginnings," she said. "I need the details you haven't told Reed."
I lean against the railing, the metal cold under my hand. "Origins are complicated," I say, keeping my voice low. "Mine? They come from a world where only the strong survive. The weak get left behind."
Abigail doesn't flinch. Her eyes stay on me. "I don't believe in fairy tales," she says, her tone sharp.
I force a small smile, more for show than anything else. "Facts are relative," I answer. "But if you want the truth… I come from a place where power rules. Where everything is about dominance, and the weak get pushed aside."
Her stare doesn't break. "And what are you, Conquest?" she asks, blunt and direct.
I meet her eyes. "I'm from that world. I'm the result of it. I'm the kind of being shaped to conquer, to dominate. I exist to take what others cannot, to win where others fail. That's what I am."