"Sereen!" Thragg swooped low. He didn't even care that there were people who saw him fly down from the sky, carrying a massive black stone monolith with his bare hands as though it weighed absolutely nothing. Strangely, the whole thing was actually quite heavy for its size, weighing in at nearly five hundred tons, maybe a little less; it was hard to accurately gauge the heft of objects that were less than a thousand tons. That said, Thragg simply dropped the monolith on the outskirts of the nearby ruined city whose name he'd forgotten. But, among the crowd, was a face he'd never forget – his daughter.
She looked older, jaded. Her eyes were heavy and exhausted. And yet, despite that, she became a leader among the masses. Because, clearly, everyone else was taking orders from her. Left and right, she barked commands, organizing the survivors and managing the resources they'd scavenged and maintained. She was a natural leader, like her brother, and very much unlike her mother, who definitely and very fortunately wasn't allowed to be a leader, due to numerous incidents that marked her intensive inability to do so. Still, Thragg found, she looked just like her mother – the same eyes, the same hair, and the same barking voice that demanded attention.
The other survivors scurried around her, obeying everything that came out of her mouth, men, women, and children alike. Tents were put up, water bottles were filled, and large quantities of broth simmered in large vats, ready to feed the masses while the... Iron Men, the skeletal robots, slowly and gradually rebuilt the city... kind of. Thragg wasn't sure what they were doing, but they were doing something and his best guess was that they were rebuilding, at least, some of the most important infrastructure, like the water pipes and sewer systems.
Shocked, fearful, and confused gazes were sent his way as he descended towards the camp of survivors. A few of the Iron Men stopped whatever it was they were doing and turned to him, their baleful green eyes intensifying briefly. Sereen's mouth hung open as she walked towards him. Thragg landed just outside the camp, a hundred pair of eyes fixed upon his form, which still bore some damage from his little trip to the Rangdan Mothership, a few scratches and tears here and there, but nothing major. It would've been such an unfortunate waste if the suit his son made for him was torn apart fully. At least, in its current state, Argall could still find a way to fix it.
"Dad?" Sereen said, walking up to him. "You're... flying? What? Dad, you were flying?! How? Wait... oh... dad!"
She then rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him, breathing a sigh of relief. Thragg smiled as he hugged her back, similarly filling with relief. "When I heard about the attack, I assumed the worst. But, still, your mother and I trained you well; I held onto the hope that these marauders could not possibly have broken your will, my daughter."
"Heh, a bunch of aliens ain't taking me down!" Sereen said as she broke away and stepped back. There were no tears in her eyes – no weakness. She was rock solid, like a great mountain – unbowed and unbroken. Sure, she had a few injuries here and there, but such things were expected in war. Thragg smiled. He was proud of her.
And then, he frowned inwardly, realizing his own folly. He was proud of her for the wrong reason. And his mindset had taken a step back. He was a father, not a warrior or a king. He was her father. "I'm happy to see you alive, regardless, my daughter."
"Where's mom?" Sereen asked, her eyes briefly turning to the sky."Is she flying too? I wouldn't be surprised if she's also flying, ya know? That woman's crazy. Actually, dad, why were you flying and what was that huge hunk of rock you were carrying?"
"My ability to fly is a... well... it's a long story, one that is better told somewhere private." Thragg answered. "As for your mother..."
"She's dead, isn't she?" Sereen asked. No, Thragg realized, it wasn't a question. Somehow, she knew her mother was dead. If nothing else, it was merely a confirmation she sought, not an answer. And so, Thragg nodded. Sereen huffed and smiled, closing her eyes. "Yeah, I figured. When the aliens started appearing I just...felt something was wrong. I wasn't sure what it was, but I just felt it. And then, I heard mom's voice, felt her presence. And I knew that she was dead."
"Oh well," She chuckled and shook her head. "She was gonna bite the dust eventually; after killing dragons and wracking up the highest kill count ever recorded by every Scrapper's Guild in the whole planet, the only thing that could've done her in were invaders from another world. Well, at least, I knew she went out swinging."
She died in her sleep, peacefully. But, Thragg figured, Sereen didn't need to know that anymore. It was much better for her to think of and remember her mother as the hero she'd always looked up to when she was younger, the greatest and the craziest Scrapper the planet has ever seen.
"She did..." Thragg said. She seemed to be taking his a lot better than he did. Thragg gestured at the survivors. "Are they all that's left of the city?"
Sereen turned over her shoulder, glanced at the people who were looking at them, and nodded. "I'm sure a bunch more escaped into the steppes, but these guys are the ones who stayed behind and were lucky enough to find shelter in the bunkers of the Iron Men."
His daughter sighed and sagged. "Honestly, dad, if these guys hadn't showed up when they did, I'd be dead now."
"Then, we should find a way to thank them." Thragg nodded. His fears, it seemed, had beenunfounded. The Iron Men, in fact, helped the humans instead of becoming just another foe. That was... a relief, he supposed. But, still, Thragg remained hesitant about the skeletal machines. There was something about them that unnerved him, like a great emptiness that clung about their metallic forms. And his instincts, honed through thousands of years of war and thousands of battles, screamed of danger; these things, these machines, were capable of harming Viltrumites. Somehow, he knew that; or, at least, every fiber of his being recognized that fact.
True enough, there were plenty of things in the universe, plenty of beings, who were more than powerful enough to harm or seriously hurt a Viltrumite. But most of these entities were singular existences, not entire armies. He had to be weary. Of course, instincts were just that, instinctual, not driven by rationality, but by primal urges and emotions; it was entirely possible that he was wrong. After all, he'd been wrong many times before, despite his instincts telling him otherwise.
"Sure," Sereen shrugged. "They apparently have a leader, but I don't know where it is or who it is, actually."
Before Thragg could reply, Sereen's head snapped to the side, where a heavyset man was busy pouring a large volume of broth into a sizable bowl. "Oy! I don't care if you used to be the mayor of this city! You get the same rations as everyone else! Now put that back or I swear you'll be eating dirt before the day ends!"
"You're a Scrapper!" The man spat, refusing to do as Sereen commanded. "I am a servant of the masses, elected by the people; you don't have authority over me!"
Sereen marched up to him, wrenched the bowl from his grasp, and poured its contents back into the simmering vat, before then grabbing the large man by his right ear, breaking his balance by extending her right leg forward and then slamming him headfirst into the ground, immediately knocking him unconscious. Thragg grinned. He taught her that move when she was little more than a child. One of the most effective means of self defense. It wasn't mortally deadly and neither would it cause serious injuries, even lesser since the ground was soft. Sereen then turned to the crowd and held out her hands to the side. "Does anyone else want to eat the ground? No? Then try not to follow this guy!"
The crowd dispersed. Thragg noted a few Scrappers among them, trying their best to maintain some semblance of order; more than likely, these young Scrappers were under Sereen's leadership, following her commands as best as they could.
"By the way, where's Argall?" Sereen asked as she walked back to him, before her eyes narrowed. "Please don't tell me he got vaporized too; that would really suck."
Thragg shook his head. "No, your brother was with me when the aliens first attacked. He is safe; he fought in the defense of Alka, alongside Scrappers, even when he wasn't one. I have no doubt of his capability and neither do I yours."
"That's... good to hear," Sereen sighed. "Honestly, I've always felt kind of guilty for not trying to get to know him better. We'd spent... years together, but I just kind of kept pushing him away; I regret that a lot, actually."
Thragg smiled. It wasn't some form of misplaced jealousy or malice on Sereen's part. No, Argall hadn't been the most social child when Thragg first brought him home. He was silent, kept to himself, and rarely ever spoke. Such a thing was common among Viltrumite children, but apparently not among humans. Argall was also too large and too heavy to be carried like an actual infant. And so, interaction between them dwindled. And, at some point, they just stopped talking to each other. But, at the very least, there was no hatred or animosity between the siblings, just detachment.
"Well, Argall should still be in Alka, unless the whole city was leveled." Thragg said. "You should meet him when you can. Sereen, everything is about to change for this world. That attack isn't going to be an isolated case; the Rangdan will attack again and again and again until this planet belongs to them. This world needs leaders, who are not afraid to make changes, to bring progress, to usher in a golden age."
Thragg gestured at the survivors, the few people who lived thanks to Sereen's judgment and leadership. "They are alive because of you. And now, they must live under your guidance."
Thragg glanced at the mayor's still-unconscious form. No, not him. He was unworthy. Leadership was not a privilege, but a responsibility. It came with no perk, no advantage – nothing. It was a burden, meant only to be shouldered by those with the strength and the will to do so. "No one elsecan lead them, otherwise, my daughter."
"I know," Sereen breathed in and sighed, shaking her head. And then, she chuckled. "Just thinking about it is annoying, but I know. The mayor's fucking useless and these people kind of look up to me already; so, I can't just leave them, even if I'd rather much prefer mom's life choices, ya know? All she did was go on these crazy adventures and fight and kill these crazy monsters. But, I'm the one that gets saddled with responsibility."
"But, dad, I'll do my best," She grinned. "Can't just let these idiots govern themselves."
"But dad," Sereen continued. "You gotta tell me how you were flying back then. Don't think I forgot about that, old man."
Thragg smiled and nodded. "Is there a place where we can speak privately, then?"
Sereen nodded and led him into one of the numerous tents that dotted the place. From the equipment he saw inside, Thragg figured that this one belonged to her, exclusively. Or, someone else shared it with her, but was too afraid of her to stay and so walked out. A lot of the Scrapper Equipment Sereen had was inherited from her mother, who was all too excited to part ways with some of the most powerful weapons and armor she possessed. The Dragon Fang was there, a dagger that was made from the tooth of the dragon whose skull Nareena dragged to Alka. Thragg held it once and found that it was sharp enough to leave a red mark on his skin if pushed with enough force. Nareena's once-favored armor set was here too, made entirely of starship-grade metal and decorated with animal bones – heavy and cumbersome, but provided its wearer with a crazy amount of strength.
Thragg sat on the floor and Sereen sat across him. "So, why'd we have to talk about this in secret, dad? I mean, everyone already kind of saw you flying and carrying around a big rock that was... what? A thousand tons? Not much point hiding."
"How I am able to fly is not nearly as... haunting as who I used to be," Thragg said. "And, I believe it's time I tell you about the man I used to be. I've only ever told your mother this; you deserve to know as well. To begin, I think it's rather obvious that I am not, in fact, human. But you already knew that, did you?"