"Uncle Art, you look young too!"
Jovian wore a flawless, practiced smile as he greeted Art warmly.
"This kid really knows how to talk. He looks so strong—perfect, just like you!"
Art studied Jovian, and for a moment it felt like he was seeing Omni-Man Nolan's shadow in the boy.
"Of course."
"He'll be my finest offspring."
Nolan nodded, utterly certain his child would be the best.
"Can I have that suit?!"
Off to the side, Mark's eyes sparkled as he stared at a combat suit.
"Uh…"
"Sure, of course…"
Art gave a mild smile. Compared to Jovian—who was perfect in a way that barely felt human—Mark looked more like what he actually was: a teenager. A kid should be a little noisy.
"I already had suits prepared for you two!"
As Art spoke, he flicked his hand. Two rotating display pods opened with a soft whir, revealing two sets of combat gear inside.
"So cool…"
Mark's was a bright orange-and-yellow skintight suit. Once he got it on, he couldn't stop twisting and swaying, admiring himself from every angle.
"Uh…"
Jovian's gaze twitched. Honestly… it was ugly.
"Actually, I'd like a white one—ideally similar to my dad's. And can you print a single letter on the chest for me?"
Jovian turned to Art with that same polite smile.
"Of course."
Art nodded. A request like that was easy. As a professional who made superhero suits for a living, he got suggestions from heroes every day. And every suggestion was another chance to refine the design.
"But can I ask… why put an 'F' on your chest? What does the 'F' mean?"
Art looked genuinely curious.
"Like my dad, Omni-Man—everyone has a hero name, right? A code name."
Jovian pointed at Nolan as he spoke.
"Sure. So the 'F' is…"
Art understood immediately. Every superhero had a call sign. Even teams did. And Omni-Man's child was practically destined to become one of the greatest heroes on Earth.
"'F' stands for Fuck the Humans"
Jovian just smiled.
"What?!"
Art froze.
"Hahaha!"
Nolan burst out laughing. He looked at Jovian with nothing but affection and pride—yes, that was the attitude a Viltrumite should have. A Viltrumite should do what a Viltrumite does.
"Uh…"
Art panicked. What was happening here?! Omni-Man's kid was supposed to be a superhero, wasn't he?! No matter how he looked at it, this sounded like a supervillain in the making!
"Relax. I'm kidding. 'F' stands for freedom."
Jovian shook his head at Art's alarm, making it clear it was just a joke.
"Freedom…"
"A freedom fighter! Fighting for this free country?!"
Art's eyes lit up. He nodded again and again, thinking to himself that Jovian really was Omni-Man Nolan's child. That sense of responsibility was beyond everything. Jovian was a born hero.
"Heh."
Jovian chuckled softly and didn't explain further. He wasn't about to tell his dad's old buddy, Wake up, man—my first meaning was the real one. Stronger powers, less responsibility. Be a perfect super bastard.
"I'll pull an all-nighter and make your suit tonight. Come pick it up tomorrow afternoon!"
Art looked like he'd been injected with pure adrenaline. He swore he'd craft the best combat suit he'd ever made in his life—for the child who inherited Omni-Man's will.
"Dad, so tomorrow afternoon—"
Jovian blinked at Nolan.
"Tomorrow afternoon, we move."
Nolan smiled back. He understood.
"Thanks, Uncle Art. You're going to be proud you made this suit with your own hands."
Jovian smiled and patted Art on the shoulder. He swore that if Art knew Jovian was going to wear the suit Art made personally—and use it to clash with the most "just" and most powerful superhero organization on Earth, the Guardians of the Globe, in a showdown where either they die… or they die—Art would be so excited he wouldn't sleep at all.
"Dad, Jovian… don't you think this suit is kind of… flashy?!"
Mark was still bothered by how loud his outfit looked, completely unaware his father and brother were plotting to overturn Earth's entire superhero establishment.
"Yeah, a little. It could use some improvements."
Nolan nodded lightly. Mark's suit really was a bit too bold.
"It fits you, little brother. But remember one thing—I'm your brother."
Jovian nodded, then emphasized his place.
"Come on! Jovian, you were born like, a few seconds before me!"
Mark looked indignant. If the doctor had pulled him out first, he'd be the older one.
"Just look at our builds. You can tell I'm the older one."
Jovian puffed his chest slightly and looked down at Mark from his six-foot-three frame.
"Oh…"
"If I spent all day in a boxing gym like you, I'd be tall too!"
Mark blamed his six-foot height entirely on not training enough. After all, he and Jovian were made from the same genetic blueprint—if Jovian could hit six-three, there was no reason Mark couldn't.
"I'm looking forward to the day you catch up."
Jovian smiled, utterly unconcerned.
Right now, he was thinking about how to deal with Mark going forward. He'd already decided to align with Nolan—meaning, on the level of interests, he stood on the opposite side of this planet. And the idiot in front of him was too slow to understand that…
"My foolish little brother…"
Jovian knew what Mark could become. In the later days, Mark truly lived up to his name—Invincible. Once he grew into it, he'd be valuable even against the Viltrumite leader, Thragg.
Yes—Jovian wasn't satisfied with only Earth. He wanted a bigger game. If he was going to be the Freeborn, then he would be the Freeborn of the entire universe. Even Nolan's people—the Viltrumites—wouldn't get to stand on his head.
"You're calling me dumb again…"
Mark felt wronged. He had no idea how he was dumb. He'd been getting called that by his brother since he was a kid, and sometimes he honestly felt like the reason he looked slow was because his brother had called him slow so often.