Time Elapsed: 3 Years
The Citadel – Flaxan Dimension:
"Again."
The command came from Angstrom, safe behind the observation glass.
I didn't argue. I didn't have the breath to argue.
I was suspended in the center of the gravity chamber, flying and trying to hold a stationary position against a magnetic pull that was trying to rip my limbs from their sockets.
Opposite me was a slab of hyper-dense alloy, roughly the size of a semi-truck.
"Use the flight leverage," Angstrom's voice crackled. "Don't push from your shoulders. Push from the vector."
I gritted my teeth and stopped trying to bench-press the slab. Instead, I anchored my gravity field, creating a fulcrum point in mid-air behind me. I became a lever.
I drove my palm forward.
BOOM.
The slab didn't just move; it launched. It flew across the chamber and embedded itself three feet deep into the reinforced wall.
I dropped to the floor, sweat dripping from my nose.
"Efficiency rating up by 15%," Mauler announced, checking a holographic display. "You're generating force from angles that shouldn't be physically possible without ground contact."
"Good," I panted, wiping my face with a towel that felt like sandpaper. "What's next?"
"Piercing strike drills," one Mauler said, tossing me a block of tungsten. "You have to be able to pierce, not just bludgeon. A fist breaks bones. A spear-hand pierces hearts."
I caught the block. It had been three years since I woke up in the tank. On Earth, barely a day and a half had passed.
I looked at my hand. It was calloused, thicker. My smart atoms were hardening, reacting to the constant, brutal trauma we were inflicting on them.
"Reactive adaptation," the Maulers called it. We broke my body down, and it rebuilt itself harder.
I drove my fingers into the tungsten. It yielded like clay.
Time Elapsed: 5 Years
I was running on a custom built treadmill with a deck that moved at Mach 10.
"Endurance is above baseline!" Angstrom shouted over the roar of the machinery. "Keep the pace!"
My lungs burned, but I didn't stop. The threats coming in the near future wouldn't be as merciful as Nolan was.
I pushed harder. The sonic boom I was creating inside the chamber rattled the containment shielding.
I was showing good progress in my physical strength, speed, and durability but wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed to be stronger than what the original timeline's Mark was going to become.
I ran until the machine smoked and sparked, the bearings melting from the friction. Only then did I slow down.
I stepped off the platform, steam rising from my skin. I checked the data pad Angstrom handed me.
Strength Increase: 150%
Endurance Increase: 80%
Speed Increase: 80%
It's an improvement, but there's still a long road ahead.
I was stronger than I was when I fought Nolan. Significantly stronger. I was above the levels of Season 3 Mark. But it still wasn't enough, so I thought it was time that I utilized a significant advantage that, that Mark didn't have.
Or should I say two significant advantages.
The Laboratory:
"You want to do what?!" one Mauler asked, looking up from his microscope.
"I want you to hack my biology," I said, sitting on the edge of a steel table.
I was shirtless, wires and sensors attached to my chest and temples. The Maulers were currently analyzing a sample of my blood.
"Smart atoms are versatile," the other Mauler admitted, "but they aren't magic. They are biological computers. You want us to reprogram them?"
"I want you to enhance them further," I corrected. "Ya'll know I have significant weaknesses. Certain frequencies of sound destabilizes my equilibrium. Having to hold my breath in space. And my energy reserves... they deplete if I fight too long without rest."
I pointed to the holographic diagram of my DNA.
"Viltrumites are durable enough to survive near the surface of a star. We can even touch the Sun for a brief moment and live. But even so, we cannot use that ability to the fullest. The Sun is just too overwhelming."
I looked the Mauler in the eye.
"I want to change that. I want to turn my durability into an additional fuel source. If you can incorporate a nanotech-infused serum into the smart atoms—something that acts as a collector, or turn them into biological solar cells—I could absorb and store that energy to boost my recovery and strength mid-fight."
A Mauler stroked his chin. "You want to turn yourself into a biological reactor."
"Exactly," I said. "I want to be able to dip into a star and come out fully recharged."
"Bio-nanites fused with the smart atomic structure," the other Mauler muttered, his eyes lighting up with the challenge. "It would be... theoretically possible. But the integration process would be long and the pain would be very excruciating. There's a high chance your body rejects it initially."
"Pain is irrelevant," I said flatly. "Can you fix the ear issue, for now at least?"
"We can reinforce the inner ear canals with a dampening lattice," a Mauler said. "It wouldn't make you immune to sound based attacks, but it would raise the threshold significantly. "
"Let's do it," I said. "Start the research. I would like a prototype protocol ready before I go back."
Angstrom walked in, looking at documents. He looked tired. Opening portals drained him, even with new tech upgrades to alleviate the drainage.
"We have a problem with the training simulations," Angstrom said. "The holograms aren't adapting to you anymore. You're predicting their algorithms."
"I know," I said, standing up and ripping the sensors off my chest. "I need real opponents. Possibly Viltrumites."
"We can't fight real Viltrumites," Angstrom said. "Not yet."
"No," I agreed, walking over to a digital map inscribed with information on various worlds. I pointed to a sector of the multiverse. "But there are infinite dimensions with infinite Earths with infinite Mark Graysons."
Angstrom paused. "You want to recruit them?!"
"No," I said, my voice cold. "You said it yourself, almost all of them are evil. I don't want allies. I want sparring partners. We find dimensions where I turned evil, or where I'm working with Nolan. We capture them. We bring them here."
"To experiment on?" one Mauler asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's dark, even for us."
"To train," I said. "If I can beat myself at my worst, I can beat anyone."
Angstrom and the Maulers nodded.
"Alright, I'll begin looking into them," he said gathering documents together.
Time Elapsed: 8 Years, 4 Months (Earth Time: Day 4)
Training Room:
An alarm blared while I was in the middle of a routine flight session.
A Flaxan commander ran in, bowing low.
"Sire! A portal has opened in Sector 4! Intruders! They are heavily armed!" he said, a newly designed voice translator aiding him.
"Show me," I commanded, stepping onto the platform.
A massive screen flickered to life on the wall of the training deck. I saw a clearing in a forest nearby. Standing there, looking confused and in a defensive formation was a team.
Robot, Rex Splode, Dupli-Kate, Monster Girl, and Eve.
The fuck?!
"Why are they here?" I questioned, wiping sweat from my forehead.
"They think you were kidnapped, remember?" Angstrom said, appearing beside me. "They're most likely here to rescue you."
I watched the screen as Robot scanned the area trying to search for incoming threats.
"We can't let them find you like this," Angstrom said.
"Yea," I responded, not taking my eyes of the screen.
I definitely wasn't ready to go back yet. The solar upgrades weren't finished, I hadn't scouted the other worlds yet, and I hadn't adapted the new technology I wanted.
"Commander," I said, turning to the Flaxan general. "Mobilize the shock troopers. Engage the intruders."
The General nodded, drawing his weapon. "We will slaughter them for you, My Lord."
"NO," I snapped. The General flinched, dropping to one knee.
"Do not kill them," I ordered. "Capture them if you can. Harass them. Scramble their tech. But if a single one of them dies, this entire city will feel my wrath. Do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes, My Lord!" he said, scrambling away.
I turned back to Angstrom, while eyeing the screen. "Can you get the jammers ready? Robot is very mart, and most likely made the portal to get here. And I bet he's going to try to open a portal back as soon as things get hot."
"How about we split them up, then?" he suggested.
"Yea, I like that," I said, hand on my chin. "And I think I know what to do. Specifically, with the Robot and Monster. They need... special attention."
On the screen, the first wave of Flaxan tanks rolled out of the treeline. Rex Splode threw a handful of charged coins, blowing the tread off the lead tank.
"I guess it's showtime," I muttered.
The Battlefield (Sector 4):
On the screen, the battle was chaotic. Eve was creating pink forcefields to protect the group from plasma fire, while Rex was maniacally tossing explosive disks at anything green.
"They're holding their own," Angstrom noted.
"They sure are," I said, analyzing their movements like I analyzed the simulations. "But they're getting overwhelmed."
I turned to the Mauler Twin at the console. "Can you target the Robot and Monster? Use the displacement mines."
"And the others?" he asked.
"Flush them out," I said. "Open an unstable vortex behind them. Scramble their inner ears with high-frequency pulses. Make them retreat."
On the monitor, a Flaxan shock trooper threw a silver disc at Robot's feet.
ZOOP.
A localized gravity well opened. It didn't explode; it imploded. Robot and Monster Girl were sucked in instantly, vanishing from the battlefield before they could even scream.
The air around Eve, Rex, and Kate began to warp. The high-frequency cannons fired. I saw them clutch their heads, disoriented. A massive, swirling portal opened behind them—the exit.
"Push them," I commanded.
The Flaxan tanks advanced, firing warning shots. Eve, realizing they were overwhelmed and separated, grabbed Rex and Kate. She hesitated, looking around for the other two, but the fire was too heavy. She flew backward into the vortex.
The portal snapped shut.
"Status," I said shortly after.
"Intruders expelled," the General reported over the comms. "Prisoners secured in Sector 7 containment."
"Good work," I sat down on a bench, the adrenaline fading. "Strip the Robot of his suit and put them in the labor camps. Make sure the Robot sees pieces of our broken tech lying around. Let him build something."
"Build what, My Lord?"
"Everything," I said. "Infrastructure. Weapons. And biological stabilization units. He's smart. With the right technology he can do nearly anything. We'll need his effort before we leave."
"You are an evil genius," Angstrom commented. "You sure, you're not an evil variant?"
"With what I just did to them, I might as well be."
Time Elapsed: 10 Years, 5 Months (Earth Time: Day 5)
The Labor Camp (Sector 4):
Two years had passed since the battle in the forest.
The labor camp we put Robot and Monster Girl in was designed to look like a scrap yard. Piles of alien metal, burning barrels, and "guards" patrolling the perimeter. While several "laborers", worked diligently.
They're actually former Flaxan dissidents that agreed to be here, and captured beings from other worlds that Angstrom had placed here for this exact moment.
I wore ragged, dirt-stained clothes over my tattered suit. I rubbed ash on my face. I stood near a pile of debris, lifting heavy girders, waiting to "run into" the duo.
I heard them before I saw them.
"This is efficient," a deep, synthesized voice said.
I turned.
Walking toward me were two people I almost didn't recognize.
One was a young woman: fairly tall with an athletic build, wearing a complex belt device that hummed with energy. Her face was hardened, her eyes scanning the perimeter with a warrior's focus.
And walking next to her was a young man. Tall, lean, with copper-colored hair. He wore a makeshift suit of armor, less bulky than his drone suit, more streamlined, powered by a glowing core on his chest.
They stopped when they saw me.
"Invincible?" the woman whispered.
I dropped the girder with a heavy thud, kicking up a cloud of dust. I stepped back, wiping ash from my eyes, letting my shoulders slump into a defensive posture.
"Do I know you?" I questioned, eyebrow raised. "How do you know me?"
The woman took a step forward, her hands raised. "Invincible, it's me. It's Monster Girl."
I squinted, looking her up and down.
"Monster Girl?" I looked at the guy next to her. The copper hair. The face structure. He looked exactly like Rex Splode, just... less annoying. "And... Rex?"
"No," the man said, his voice calm. "It's Rudy—I mean Robot."
My jaw dropped in surprise. "Robot? But you were... mechanical. How'd you become human?"
"A lot has happened," Rudy said, his eyes scanning the perimeter. "We've been here two years, Invincible."
"You have?" I said, expression astonished. "That's insane. I've been here for about six."
Monster Girl closed the distance and hugged me. It was tight, desperate. "We thought you were dead. We thought they killed you when they took you."
"Well I'm alive," I said, hugging her back. "Barely, but I'm here."
I pulled away, looking at them. "How is this possible? You guys... you grew up."
"We had to," Rudy explained. "The Flaxans realized I quickly understood their technology. They forced me to upgrade their grid. In exchange, I built this armor. And I modified a genetic accelerator."
He tapped his chest plate.
"We forced our bodies to age to their prime. We couldn't survive here as children. We needed to be efficient."
"We're ready to fight now," Monster Girl said, her fist clenching.
"With you two here, escape seems very possible now," I said.
I looked around, lowering my voice, checking for the "guards" I had positioned perfectly. "Listen. Me and the other captives have been planning something for a while, but could never get the dialect of the Flaxans down to put it in motion. But now that you two are here, things may work out well.
"Right the other captives. How did they get here?" Monster Girl questioned.
"The Flaxans kidnapped almost all of them from other worlds to build their society," I responded, gesturing to the other captives. "Most are put into labor, while some like me are put against other warriors they've kidnapped to see what they're dealing with when they invade their world again."
"A human test subject," Robot surmised.
"That's awful," Monster Girl said, hand over her mouth.
I need another Oscar, for this performance.
"That's just how they operate. But now, that changes with the arrival of you two," I said.
"You have a plan?" Robot asked.
"Even better, I know where the central power hub is. And I know where the dimensional portals are anchored," I lied. "But we need a distraction. A big one."
I looked towards the direction of the other captives.
"We start a riot," I said. "We burn this place down. While the guards are distracted, we destroy the other dimension portals so they can't chase us, any of us. Then we leave."
Robot nodded, his mind already calculating the variables. "If I can get access to the main generator, I can modify the frequency to lock onto Earth's signature. But it will take time."
"I can hold the line," I said. "You'll have all the time in the world."
Three Hours Later…
The night sky lit up with explosions.
"GO! GO! GO!" I screamed, tossing a Flaxan guard—who knew to take a dive—through a structural wall.
The camp was in chaos. The prisoners were rioting, smashing equipment and setting fires to the fuel depots. Robot and Monster Girl were fighting back-to-back, their teamwork flawless after two years of survival. Monster Girl transformed into her larger, faster, and more terrifying form and plowed through a line of tanks. Robot used a wrist-mounted energy cannon to blast the guard towers with surgical precision.
I stayed close, engaging the "elites." I made it look hard. I took a few hits, rolled with punches I could have ignored, and shattered "critical" infrastructure that was actually decommissioned junk.
"The generator is exposed!" Robot yelled over the comms.
"Do it!" I shouted, holding up a collapsing wall to let a group of prisoners escape. "I'll hold them off!"
Robot jacked into the main console. Lightning arced around the spire. The sky tore open. Multiple blue swirling vortexes—different from the green Flaxan ones—appeared above us.
"It's locked!" Robot yelled, his voice straining over the roar of the energy. "Earth! And the other coordinates are confirmed!"
"Destroy the console!" I ordered, flying over to him to throw multiple "captive" aliens through. "Don't let them follow!"
Robot smashed the panel with his armored fist. The portal began to destabilize, crackling with unstable energy.
"We have to jump in! Now!" Monster Girl yelled, grabbing Robot by the waist.
I looked back at the Citadel in the distance. I saw a small, rhythmic flicker of light from the high tower—Angstrom signaling me.
Phase One complete.
"Let's go home," I said, throwing the final "captive" through a portal.
We launched ourselves into the sky.
Monster Girl went first, holding tight to Robot. I took one last look at the dimension that had been my forge for the last decade. I looked at the ruin of the camp.
Then, I flew into the portal.
Time Elapsed: 5 Days
Earth - The Pentagon (GDA Headquarters):
CRACK-BOOM.
The portal opened in the middle of the main atrium, the pressure shattered the reinforced glass skylight and set off every alarm in the building.
Three figures fell out, crashing onto the polished floor.
Smoke rose from our clothes. We laid there for a second, breathing the thick, processed air of Earth. It tasted sweet compared to the ozone of the Flaxan world.
"Security team to the atrium! We have a breach!"
Boots thudded on the floor. Dozens of rifles were trained on us.
"Hold your fire!"
Cecil Stedman walked through the line of soldiers, teleporting the last ten feet. He stopped dead, eyes going wide.
He looked at Robot—a man in his twenties wearing alien armor. He looked at Monster Girl—a woman in her prime, the curse of her de-aging reversed. And then he looked at me. Beaten, bearded again (I had stopped shaving for the 'labor camp' look), and radiating a quiet, dangerous exhaustion.
"Mark?" Cecil asked, his voice losing its usual cool edge.
I stood up slowly. I helped Monster Girl and Robot to their feet. We stood together.
"We're back," I said, my voice rough.
"Stand down," Cecil ordered the guards, waving his hand dismissively. He looked at me, a mixture of relief and deep, calculating apprehension on his face. "Medical team! Get them to the infirmary. Now!"
As the medics rushed in with stretchers, I caught my reflection in the glass wall. I looked exhausted.
Perfect, just perfect.