The throne room of Viltrum was cold.
No warmth or grandeur. Just stone and silence.
Smooth gray walls rose into a vast vaulted ceiling lined with subtle lighting strips, engineered for efficiency, not spectacle. The floor gleamed from decades of footfall and blood. No banners hung. No flags. No echoes of ceremony. Only the hiss of the heavy doors sliding open broke the stillness.
Conquest entered.
He walked like a man who'd never been stopped. His gait was crooked, his stance slightly favoring one leg, but every step was grounded in violent confidence.
White hair, thick and rough like steel wire, crowned a face weathered by war. Scars ran down his neck and into his uniform, each one an untold story of carnage. His right eye was gone, just a milky void surrounded by damaged flesh. His other eye, sharp and shining, flicked once across the room and then down as he dropped to one knee.
Thragg was already seated.
He sat upright on a plain stone throne, carved directly into the floor of the Imperial Chamber. A single step elevated it, just enough to force any visitor to look up. His red and gray uniform was flawless. No specks of blood. No rips. No fatigue. A white sash hung across his hip armor, pristine. His chest was broad and unmarred.
There were no scars on Thragg, a testament to his transcendent strength.
"You're late," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Conquest smirked, eyes lowered. "Had a thing. Resistance cell on Val-Tarax. They thought if they hid in caves, they'd become able to hide from us."
He chuckled to himself.
"They died as they lived: foolish to the very end."
Thragg didn't blink. "You find humor in delay?" he asked with no warmth in his voice.
"I find humor in weakness."
Thragg's eyes narrowed in sharp and immediate silence..
Conquest's grin faltered. He bowed his head in fealty.
Thragg rose.
The movement was fluid and controlled.
He stepped down from the dais and walked slowly toward his general, each footfall deliberate.
"I sent four Viltrumites to Centauria nearly a year ago," he said. "Not an army. Not even an extermination squad. Four trusted Viltrumites handpicked by me."
"I heard," Conquest said. "They didn't come back."
Thragg stopped in front of him.
"One was found. What was left of him at least. The rest… vanished. No signal. No trace."
Conquest looked up. "And why are you telling me this my Lord?"
"Because on the planet of Centauria was a boy. A child of Centauria. A child of mine."
That earned a pause. Conquest stood, but slowly. His expression twisted with wicked interest.
"A bastard son of Thragg?" he asked.
Thragg turned and walked toward the wall behind his throne. A star map hovered silently in the air, glowing with marked systems. He zoomed in with a motion. A single yellow light blinked faintly on the galactic edge.
"He was born to Kushina, the last of Centauria's royalty. She carried an ancient power. She told me he would inherit it. Presumably along with my strength."
Conquest tilted his head, smile growing again.
"And you just now decided to care?"
Thragg's back was still to him.
"I didn't care before," he said. "I sent those four to kill him. I thought it necessary to tie up an loose ends."
He turned.
"But he survived and killed them. Then vanished."
The admission hung in the air.
"He's been undetected for almost a year. No movement. No activity. Nothing but rumors."
Conquest exhaled sharply. "Impressive. For a kid."
Thragg stared at him. "He's more than that."
Conquest took a step forward, licking his lips.
"You want him dead now? Or brought in?"
Thragg was silent a moment longer.
"I want him found," he said at last. "He's dangerous. But not just because of his power. Because he's like me. He's calculating. Adaptive. Ruthless."
He frowned.
"And yet… he has survived without becoming a tyrant. He's not just hiding. He's learning. Becoming stronger."
Thragg looked away, jaw clenched.
"I don't want to kill him. Not unless I must."
Conquest raised a brow. "He's your blood."
"I don't need blood," Thragg said flatly. "I need loyalty."
He walked back toward his throne but did not sit.
"If he resists… if he refuses to become loyal and willing to the Viltrumite cause.."
"I'll break him," Conquest said, stepping forward. "Or bury him. Maybe both!"
Thragg's eyes narrowed. "You're not to underestimate him. That's what the others did."
"I don't underestimate," Conquest said. "I savor."
His voice dropped, more a growl than a whisper.
"I enjoy the fight, my lord. The sound of cracking ribs. The way blood sprays when it hits vacuum. The thrill of pressure against my bones. I like pain. Theirs. Mine. It doesn't really matter."
He smiled again, too wide.
"I want to see what your bastard can do. I want to feel him try to stop me."
Thragg stared at him for a long time.
"And if he beats you?" he asked.
Conquest's grin only widened. "Then I die doing what I love."
Thragg finally sat, settling into the stone.
"I want him alive, if possible. He can be useful. He may yet serve the Empire. He's not like his mother. There seems to be no softness in him. No sentimental nonsense."
He looked away.
"But if he won't kneel, he dies."
Conquest turned to leave, energized now. His metal hand flexed at his side, claws twitching.
"I'll find him," he said. "And if he resists…"
He stopped at the door, glancing back.
"I'll make sure he never gets up again."
The doors slid shut behind him.
Thragg sat alone in the silence, fingers pressed together in thought.
His son had killed four of the Empire's finest.
A year of silence.
And now… the hunt had began.
He wasn't sure if he wanted the boy back.
Or if he simply wanted to know which part of himself the child would become.
_____
Naruto stood in the center of Mark's room, arms crossed, expression blank, one eyebrow twitching ever so slightly.
Chaos had colonized the space.
Clothes clung to the ceiling fan. Shirts, socks, and boxers were draped over the back of the desk chair like they'd lost the will to go on. Jeans were pooled on the floor like collapsed bodies. Crumpled paper balls littered the carpet like snow after a nuclear fallout.
Empty soda cans peeked out from beneath the dresser with some still hissing faintly from unfinished carbonation. Cartoon posters lined the walls, all creased and pinned unevenly: Seance Dog, The Immortal Man, Tiger & the Tree. At least three of them were crooked.
Near the bed, a pile of half-finished sketches curled at the edges. One featured what looked like a kaiju made of spaghetti with laser eyes. In the corner, beneath the window, a lone sock lay curled into itself, hardened like it had seen things it could never unsee.
And everywhere.. Everywhere, Gundam action figures lay scattered.
Tiny mechs with massive guns, broken wings, snapped limbs. They were strewn across the floor like casualties of war. A few still stood valiantly upright, watching over the battlefield. One had a toothpick taped to its arm like a makeshift bayonet.
Naruto exhaled through his nose.
He bent down, plucked one of the figures from the floor between two fingers, and turned it over, squinting at it like he'd just unearthed alien tech from a crash site.
"I'm not well-versed in Earth history," he said, voice dry and unimpressed, "but don't little girls play with dolls?"
He tossed it lazily at Mark.
Mark caught it with one hand and recoiled like he'd just been slapped. "Okay.. First of all, they're not dolls. They're action figures. Massive difference."
Naruto gave him a long, blank stare. "I see no difference."
Mark pointed a finger at him. "Second of all, being a geek is cool now. We won. Society finally caught up. So maybe Amber likes them too, you ever think of that, ya asshole?"
Naruto cupped his chin and made a show of thinking. He tilted his head. "Hmm. That only leaves the dirty laundry, the crusty dishes, the stale chips on your pillow, and…"
His gaze drifted to the nightstand.
"…the lotion and tissues."
Mark followed his eyes, froze, then launched into a panic cleanup, grabbing the bottle and the tissues and shoving both into the trash like he was disposing of a body.
He straightened, flushed, exhaled hard through his nose. "You done?"
Naruto gave a slow, sarcastic thumbs up. "I'm sure Amber will be very impressed. Just be yourself."
Mark opened his mouth to retort but Naruto's ears twitched.
A knock at the front door.
Mark heard it too.
His face shifted from indignation to panic so fast it was almost impressive. "She's early?!"
Naruto was already at the door, sliding his sneakers back on without urgency.
"Looks like my time has come. Try not to fail too hard in procuring a mate. No pressure."
Mark groaned behind him. "You're the worst."
As Naruto headed downstairs, Amber was already coming up. They passed each other on the steps. She gave him a polite smile and nod. He returned it with a blank one and kept walking.
In the kitchen, Debbie looked up from rinsing a plate.
"Leaving already?" she asked.
"Didn't want to third wheel the awkward mating dance," Naruto said. "Tell Mark I said good luck."
Debbie smiled, a little amused. "Will do."
He stepped outside, letting the door click shut behind him.
A breeze drifted across the porch. He took a breath, cracked his neck—
Buzz.
His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket.
He fished it out. UNKNOWN NUMBER.
Naruto frowned. He didn't like answering unknown numbers. They usually led to people asking him to save things, destroy things, or explain things. Still, something in his gut said to pick up.
He tapped the green button.
"Yeah."
"Maelstrom," came Cecil's voice tight, brisk, and unbothered. "We've got a situation. Rogue enhanced individual. Civilians are in danger. Atom Eve's already in the air en route. I need you on-site."
Naruto blinked. "You're calling me of all people?"
"You're the closest and most available," Cecil replied. "Mount Rushmore. Go."
Click.
Naruto stared at the phone for a second.
"No goodbye and even barely any details. Rude."
He pocketed the phone, stepped off the porch, and vanished in a blur of yellow.
____
Maelstrom soared high above the clouds, a streak of yellow and black slicing across the sky. His silhouette blurred at the edges.
The cold air bit at his skin, but it didn't slow him. The faster he flew, the quieter the world got and he liked it that way.
Beside him, Atom Eve glided with a kind of effortless grace. Her pink aura shimmered like sunlight through stained glass, her body suspended in a soft glow of controlled energy. Compared to Naruto's turbulent flight, she looked like she was floating through a dream.
Naruto didn't say much. Not yet. He was still adjusting the borrowed earpiece she'd handed him before they took off, something she'd pulled from her belt with a gentle here, try not to break it before activating her powers and lifting off.
A burst of static snapped into his ear, followed by the unmistakable rasp of Cecil Stedman's voice.
"I wouldn't normally be calling in the kids," Cecil said, voice crisp with caffeine and mild contempt, "but Omni-Man's ten time zones away dealing with a kaiju the size of a football stadium, and the new Guardians of the Globe are.. How do I put this politely? About one botched PR stunt from getting dissolved."
Naruto rolled his eyes, his flight path bobbing slightly. "So we're the B-team."
"More like the competent team," Eve muttered beside him, voice calm through her comm.
Naruto tilted his head toward her, mildly impressed.
"Who's the target?" she asked aloud.
"Doc Seismic," Cecil replied. "Real name: Thaddeus Seismic. And yes, before you ask, the 'Doctor' is legitimate. PhD in geophysics and seismology. Brilliant mind, big ideas. Used to lecture at Stanford before he fell off the map and into conspiracy theories"
Naruto's brow furrowed. "Lemme guess. Now he fights crime with the power of plate tectonics?"
"Close," Cecil said. "He built himself a pair of seismic amplification gauntlets. Problem is, the gloves weren't exactly tested for... neurological safety."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning every time he uses them, it's like slamming his own head into a wall at two hundred miles an hour. We think he's scrambled something upstairs."
Naruto frowned as wind whipped through his hair. "Great. I love fighting crazy Earth men. Always full of surprises."
"He's currently attempting to remodel Mount Rushmore," Cecil added. "Claims the founding fathers are symbols of 'patriarchal imperialism' and wants to replace them with... himself. Four times."
Eve groaned. "Why do the nutjobs always go for national monuments?"
"Because it guarantees media coverage," Cecil said dryly. "Anyway—he's active, powered up, and drawing fault lines beneath the sculpture. I need you two to stop him before Abe Lincoln does a faceplant into South Dakota."
There was a pause.
"Oh, and one more thing.. Mount Rushmore is a national treasure. So maybe try not to level it."
The comm cut with a click.
Naruto exhaled. "Sure. Let's stop the lunatic with earthquake gauntlets from collapsing a mountain. No pressure at all."
Eve picked up speed, glowing brighter as she surged forward through the clouds.
Naruto followed suit, boots flaring hotter as he caught up.
As the wind roared around them and the mountain range began to come into view in the distance, Naruto muttered under his breath, "Let's get this over with."
Eve glanced sideways at him, arching a brow. "That your version of a pep talk?"
He shrugged. "I don't do pep talks. I just punch until they stop screaming or the problem is solved."
She smiled. "Fair enough."
The two heroes dove together, their forms cutting through the sky like twin comets bearing down on history's most awkward sculpture.
Below them, the earth had already begun to tremble.
___
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