Chicago smoldered under a gray dawn, its skyline jagged with broken buildings and plumes of smoke. The Viltrumite fleet had retreated, their ships vanishing into the void, but the city bore the scars of their assault—cratered streets, shattered homes, and a quiet that felt more like exhaustion than peace. Mark Grayson stood on the roof of the Grayson house, his Invincible suit torn and bloodied, his goggles cracked. The weight of the battle lingered in his bones, but so did a flicker of hope. They'd won. Earth was still theirs.
Saitama leaned against the chimney, eating a slightly crushed donut he'd scavenged from a wrecked food truck. His yellow tracksuit was pristine, as if the war had never touched him. "Nice view," he said, licking glaze off his fingers. "Kinda smoky, though."
Mark managed a tired smile. "You saved us, you know. All of us."
Saitama shrugged. "Just punched some guys. You did the hard stuff."
Mark shook his head, looking out at the city. The Teen Team was below, helping with rescue efforts. Eve's energy constructs lifted debris, freeing trapped civilians. Monster Girl, in human form, handed out water bottles. Dupli-Kate's clones directed traffic, and Rexplode, despite a bandaged arm, argued with a paramedic about "hero privileges." Robot's drone coordinated with Cecil's cleanup crews, its scans ensuring no Viltrumite tech remained.
The victory was real, but it came at a cost. Nolan's return had saved Mark, but his betrayal still stung. Debbie's tearful reunion with her husband was bittersweet, their future uncertain. And Viltrum, though wounded, wasn't defeated. Thragg's final scream echoed in Mark's mind, a promise of retribution.
Cecil's voice crackled through Mark's comm, pulling him from his thoughts. "Invincible, report to HQ when you're able. We've got cleanup, intel to analyze, and… your dad's in custody."
Mark's stomach twisted. "Custody? He helped us."
"He's a Viltrumite who killed the Guardians," Cecil said, his tone flat. "We can't trust him yet. Get here soon."
The comm clicked off. Mark sighed, rubbing his neck. "This never gets easier."
Saitama tossed him a donut. "Life's messy. Eat. It helps."
Mark caught it, the gesture grounding him. "Thanks. For everything."
Downstairs, the Grayson house was a haven amid the chaos. Debbie sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Nolan stood by the window, his Omni-Man armor removed, wearing civilian clothes that looked wrong on him. The air between them was thick with unspoken words.
Mark entered, Saitama trailing with his donut bag. Debbie looked up, her eyes red but steady. "Mark, you're okay."
"Yeah, Mom," he said, hugging her. "We're okay."
Nolan turned, his face a map of regret. "Mark… I don't expect forgiveness. I just want you to know I meant it. I chose you. Earth."
Mark's throat tightened. "You stayed behind on the dreadnought. You came back for me. That's a start."
Debbie's voice was soft but firm. "A start, Nolan. Not a fix."
Nolan nodded, accepting the weight. "I know. I'll face whatever comes—Earth's justice, Viltrum's wrath."
Saitama, leaning in the doorway, munched loudly. "Heavy stuff. Anyone want a donut?"
Debbie managed a laugh, the tension easing. "You're ridiculous."
"It's a gift," Saitama said, grinning.
Mark sat, the family together for the first time since Nolan's betrayal. It wasn't perfect—trust was a long road—but it was enough for now. The war had taken its toll, but it had also forged something stronger in Mark. He wasn't just Invincible; he was a leader, a son, a hero.
At Teen Team HQ, the team debriefed in a makeshift war room, the warehouse's walls patched with tape and hope. Robot's monitor displayed scans of Viltrumite debris, his voice calm but urgent. "The fleet's retreat was tactical. They've lost their hub, dreadnought, and Thragg's leadership, but their numbers remain formidable."
Eve, her arm in a sling, frowned. "So we're not done?"
"Not yet," Robot said. "Cecil's fortifying Earth's defenses—satellites, hero teams, and salvaged Viltrumite tech. We've bought time, not victory."
Rexplode, sporting a black eye, smirked. "Time's good. I'll build bigger bombs."
Dupli-Kate, her clones back to full strength, sighed. "You're incorrigible."
Monster Girl, sipping a soda, grinned. "He's our incorrigible. That counts."
Mark stood, addressing the team. "We did the impossible. We faced Viltrum and won. But Robot's right—they'll come back. We need to be ready, not just to fight, but to protect what we've got."
Eve nodded. "Like family. Like home."
Mark met her gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. "Exactly."
Saitama, sprawled on a crate, raised his donut bag. "And snacks. Don't forget snacks."
Rexplode snorted. "You're still weird, Baldy."
"Keeps me young," Saitama said, winking.
Robot turned to Saitama. "Your power was decisive, but your… detachment concerns me. Will you stay when Viltrum returns?"
Saitama chewed thoughtfully. "Dunno. Earth's got good fights, good people. I'll stick around till it gets boring."
Mark frowned. "Boring? You just punched a fleet into retreat."
Saitama grinned. "Yeah, but I'm still waiting for a real challenge."
The team exchanged uneasy glances, but Mark laughed, the sound cutting through the tension. "You're impossible, but I'm glad you're here."
Under the Pentagon, Cecil stood before Nolan's new cell, a reinforced chamber lined with Viltrumite-proof alloy. Nolan sat on a cot, his face calm but weary.
"You turned on Thragg," Cecil said. "Why?"
Nolan met his gaze. "For Mark. For Debbie. I lost my way, Cecil. I won't again."
Cecil's jaw tightened. "Words don't erase blood. The Guardians' deaths are on you."
"I know," Nolan said. "Judge me, imprison me, but let me help. Viltrum's coming, and you need every edge."
Cecil studied him, then nodded. "We'll see. For now, you stay here."
He walked away, Nolan's words echoing. You need every edge. Saitama was that edge, but his unpredictability was a risk. Cecil's screens showed Earth's new defenses—satellites, hero teams, and a prototype weapon based on Viltrumite tech. It wasn't enough, not against a full invasion, but it was a start.
Donald approached, holding a tablet. "Saitama's still a wildcard. If he leaves…"
Cecil rubbed his temples. "Then we pray Mark's enough. He's grown into something Viltrum didn't expect."
Back at the Grayson house, Mark and Saitama sat on the roof, the city's recovery efforts humming below. Stars peeked through the smoke, a reminder of the universe waiting beyond. Debbie and Nolan were inside, talking—slowly, painfully rebuilding what was broken.
"You think he'll be okay?" Mark asked, staring at the skyline.
Saitama popped a donut in his mouth. "Your dad? Maybe. People mess up, then they try to fix it. He's trying."
Mark nodded, the weight of Nolan's choice settling. "What about you? Robot's right—Viltrum's not done. Will you stay?"
Saitama leaned back, hands behind his head. "Earth's got heart. You, your mom, that spicy taco truck downtown. I'll stick around for now. But if I find a fight that's too good, I might chase it."
Mark's chest tightened, but he smiled. "Fair. Just… warn me if you're leaving, okay?"
"Deal," Saitama said, tossing him a donut. "You're tougher than you look, kid. Keep punching."
Mark caught it, resolve burning. "I will."
Below, Eve landed, her sling gone, her smile warm. "Thought I'd find you here. Team's heading to help with the south side. You in?"
Mark stood, pulling on his goggles. "Always."
Saitama stretched, standing. "I'm in too. Might find more donuts."
Eve laughed. "You're predictable."
"It's a lifestyle," Saitama said, grinning.
They leapt into the night, joining the city's rebirth. Earth was battered but unbroken, its heroes ready for the next fight. In orbit, a Viltrumite scout ship lingered, cloaked, its commander's voice a whisper.
"The boy's spirit holds," Anissa said. "But we'll find his breaking point."
The ship vanished, and Earth turned, its future uncertain but defiant.
End of Chapter 15