AN: This will be my first ever work done so go easy on me guys! So basically I became obsessed with Invincible and now I wanted to write about it, because of my disappointment with the lack of Invincible fanfics I decided to write my own as you can clearly see. Without further ado let's get on with this shall we?

I own neither Invincible or any other works shown throughout the series

Chapter 7: American Boy

Nolan and I fly low over the desert, dust swirling in the air behind us. "You're flying too low, Mark," Nolan says, glancing at the sandstorm I've left in my wake.

I shoot him a grin, adjusting my altitude slightly. "Just lost my train of thought." Hearing a certain mummy yell in anger.

"Keep up the speed, but focus," he advises. "You've got power, but you need to push yourself to get to my amount of strength. Being a Viltrumite isn't easy, Mark. You always need think of different ways to maneuver, while also moving, your opponent won't give you time"

I give him a thumbs up. "Oh, I've got this."

Nolan does a quick spin in the air, a maneuver I've seen him pull off countless times. With a smirk, I copy him, spinning cleanly through the air, surprising him.

"Not bad," he admits.

"Not bad?" I scoff. "That was perfect."

He chuckles. "Alright, enough showing off. Let's head to Mount Everest. Last one there washes dishes for a week."

Without hesitation, we both take off, racing toward the towering peak in the distance. I push myself, digging deep, and for the first time, I realize I'm actually keeping pace with Nolan. No—wait—I'm faster. I focus harder, leaning into the speed.

Everest looms ahead, and as we near the summit, I give one final burst of energy, landing just moments before Nolan does.

I grin, turning to him. "Guess you're washing dishes."

He lands beside me, clearly impressed despite himself. "Well, looks like I've got some competition now."

We stand there in silence for a moment, the snowy peak of Everest stretching out before us. Nolan stares out at the horizon, his expression softening.

"Sometimes, I forget how beautiful this planet is," he says quietly. "Viltrum... was nothing like this."

I keep my eyes on him, knowing the truth about Viltrum's history. His words are always measured, carefully constructed to maintain the facade. But I'll play along, for now.

"Must've been hard leaving everything behind to come here," I say, baiting him slightly.

He glances at me, his voice steady. "It wasn't easy, but Earth... it offered something different. Your mother... she made it feel like home."

I give a small nod, but inside, I'm watching him closely. I know the real reason he's here, the real history of Viltrum. He's been keeping the truth hidden, and for now, I'll let him. But soon enough, the time will come when we won't be having conversations like this.

Nolan suddenly claps me on the back, breaking the tension. "Alright, last one home takes out the trash for a month."

I don't give him a chance to finish. "Well guess you're taking the trash out too," I shout, already taking off toward home with a grin on my face. For a moment, I hear him laugh before he's right on my tail, and we race back toward the city, the sky blurring past my eyes.

As Nolan and I land in front of the house, I touch down first, with a small grin of satisfaction. I've been getting better at everything—faster, stronger—and the fact that I'm now ahead of Nolan, even if by a bit, feels good. Nolan lands just behind me, smiling proudly, again impressed by how far I've come.

When we step into the house, Debbie's already inside, a glass of wine in hand and her laptop open on the kitchen table. She glances up at us, her eyes shifting between me and Nolan. "How was it?" she asks, her tone casual, but I can sense the subtle curiosity.

"Great," Nolan says, a little too eagerly. "We pushed hard today, but our boy's already got me beat in speed." He claps me on the shoulder again, clearly enjoying the chance to brag about my feats.

I smile, playing along. "Yeah, it's been a long day. I'm thinking about heading over to see Robot, though."

Debbie raises an eyebrow, and Nolan looks curious as well. "Robot?" Debbie asks.

I nod quickly, trying to keep it casual. "Yeah, he's been working on some new projects, and I wanted to see if I could lend a hand." Total lie. The truth is, I've been dying to see if Robot could help me with the rail cannon blueprints I've been working on. I've kept that under wraps for a while, but now that I've made significant progress, I need some help locating materials and using some of his equipment for this project.

Nolan, oblivious, just nods. "Mark, just remember you and I have training tomorrow, and if you are interested in tech then Viltrum has the best in the galaxy, certainly better than anything on earth."

Debbie narrows her eyes a little but doesn't press further. "Just don't stay out too late. You've still got school in the morning."

I nod, already making my way toward the door. "Got it. I won't be long." I grab my suit, and in a flash, I'm out the door and into the night sky.

Real subtle Nolan. Thinking back to his comment about Viltrumite superiority.

As I land outside the new Guardians HQ, I spot Robot overseeing things, monitoring the team's movements. This was my first time approaching him about anything tech related, and it felt like the right moment to reveal what I'd been working on. I walk up to Robot casually, trying not to draw too much attention.

"Robot, you got a sec? I need to talk to you... privately," I say, my voice low enough that only he could hear.

As Robot and I step away from the others, I can feel his curiosity about why I've approached him so suddenly. I don't waste time.

"Robot, I know you took some blood from Rex earlier," I say, getting straight to the point. His head tilts ever so slightly, the subtle shift in his posture betraying his surprise. "Relax, I'm not here to call you out. Honestly, I don't care. I figure you've got your reasons, and I'm not here to judge. In fact, I need your help."

Robot remains silent, waiting for me to continue. He doesn't seem defensive, just intrigued. I take that as a sign to move forward.

"Here's the thing—I've got a weakness," I say. "High-frequency sound. It messes with Viltrumites. And I need to figure out how to fight through it. It's not something I can do on my own, though. I don't even know the specific frequency, and I'm guessing you've got the tech to help pinpoint it."

His eyes, or what I assume are his eyes, seem to scan me, processing the information. "I wasn't aware of that particular vulnerability."

"Not many are," I admit. "I'm telling you because I trust you can help me find the frequency and create a controlled environment where I can adapt to it. In return, I'll help with any projects you may need assistance with."

After laying out my concerns about the Viltrumite frequency weakness, Robot remains silent for a moment, clearly processing what I'd shared. But I'm not done yet.

"There's one more thing," I add, pulling out the small notebook from earlier. "I've been working on this—blueprints for a long-range rail cannon. I've made decent progress, but I'm missing a few key materials and the equipment to bring it to life."

Robot glances down at the blueprints, his curiosity piqued. "A rail cannon? Intriguing... This design is far more advanced than I expected."

I shrug, trying to downplay it, but I can't help feeling a little proud. "Yeah, I've been working on it since my time in the Flaxxon dimension. Learned a lot while I was there. The thing is, I need your help. Do you have the materials and tech to assist with this?"

Robot studies the blueprints for a moment, then looks back at me. "I do have access to the necessary materials and equipment. This is a complex design, but feasible with the right resources. I can assist in its construction—if you're certain this will aid you."

"I'm sure. Having a long-range option could be a game changer for any future fights. And with your expertise, we could make something even better than I imagined. Don't think I'll keep the blueprints to myself though, I'll share them with you so you can make your own."

Robot seems to consider it for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I'll assist you with the rail cannon. Between that and your need to work past the frequency, we can work on both projects simultaneously."

"Perfect," I say, feeling a rush of excitement. "This is going to be a great partnership."

Robot turns back to me, his mechanical voice steady. "Agreed. Let's proceed carefully. I'll start gathering the necessary materials. When you're ready, we can begin testing both projects."

"Got it," I say, shaking his hand. "Thanks, Robot. I knew I could count on you."

With Robot agreeing to help with both my rail cannon and the frequency training, I feel like I'm making serious progress. He's clearly impressed, probably thought I was just another meathead superhero. But before I take off, something else crosses my mind.

"How's the team coming along?" I ask, glancing toward the rest of the Guardians.

As I do, I notice Rex in the corner, folding a paper airplane. He lines it up, aims carefully, and lets it fly. The airplane sails straight through the air, hitting Black Samson square in the back of the head. Samson spins around, looking annoyed, while Rex just sits there, smirking like a kid who just got away with something.

Robot sighs. "As you can see, they're still... adjusting."

I suppress a laugh. "Yeah, seems like it's going great."

I land on the back patio, seeing Nolan and Cecil already deep in conversation. My parents are inside, listening as Cecil briefs them about NASA's upcoming manned mission to Mars. From the sound of it, they want someone to shadow the astronauts—just in case things go sideways. Nolan, though, isn't interested.

"I'm needed here, Cecil. My son needs training, and with the Guardians gone, I have responsibilities on Earth," Nolan says, crossing his arms.

Cecil looks exasperated. "I get it, but Earth needs a win. People need to see progress, and this mission could be that."

Nolan shakes his head. "If Earth's attacked while I'm on Mars, who's going to care about a space mission?"

Before they can argue further, I step forward. "I'll go."

Nolan raises an eyebrow. "That was the moon, Mark. Mars is different. It's space, and it's a two-week mission. Not to mention, you're needed here too."

I shrug, feeling confident. "Dad, I can handle it. I've come a long way. Besides, we both know I've got a good handle on things, and you've been saying I'm ready for bigger responsibilities."

Cecil jumps on the opportunity. "If Mark wants to go, it'd be a big help. And he's not wrong; Earth could use this mission as a symbol of progress."

Debbie, sitting quietly at first, looks at me thoughtfully. "I don't love the idea of you missing school, but you've been balancing things pretty well so far. If you want to do this, I trust your judgment."

Nolan looks at Debbie, then at me, a glint of pride in his eyes despite his reservations. "You've improved, but don't get cocky. Mars is a different ball game."

"Noted," I say with a grin. "But seriously, I've got this."

Cecil nods, clearly relieved. "Alright, pack a lunch and be ready. You leave tomorrow."

As I head inside, I catch Nolan shaking his head but with the same small, proud smile he's been giving me since I returned from the Flaxxon dimension. Looks like I'm going to Mars. But first I gotta go to school first tomorrow.

I gotta ask Robot for a favor tomorrow regarding the mission, which should help in dealing with a problem before it becomes a problem.

I spot Eve by the lockers, and before I can even open my mouth, she's already walking over, a familiar grin lighting up her face. This time, though, instead of a playful nudge or joke, she steps right in for a hug—something she's been doing more often lately. It's quick, but there's warmth in it that lingers after she steps back.

"Hey, Mars boy," she says with a smirk. "You ready to ditch Earth for a couple of weeks?"

I laugh, shrugging. "Ready? Please. I would've taken a camera and some props with me if I could."

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. "You're impossible. Just don't blow up Mars while you're at it, alright?"

"I won't blow it up, only because there would be astronauts on it, but after they leave is a different story. There might be xeno filth on the planet." I reply in a mock serious tone.

Eve laughs, but there's a softer tone underneath it this time. "You know, you've been handling all this superhero stuff pretty well. Balancing saving the world, Mars missions... How are you not freaking out?"

I shrug, trying to keep things light. "Who says I'm not freaking out? I just wing it most of the time. But seriously, I've got good people around me. Makes it easier."

She gives me a knowing look. "Good people, huh?"

"Yeah," I say, finding my next words easy. "Like you."

Her expression softens, and she gives me another hug. "When you come back... there's something I want to ask you."

I give her a soft smile, returning the hug, and having a pretty good idea what the question is. "I'll be sure to answer right."

I land at the Guardians' base, heading straight for Robot's workspace. I've got a few hours before I need to leave for Mars, but first, I need to whip up something to help me navigate while I'm out there. No way I'm risking getting lost between Earth and Mars without a plan in place.

I spot Robot tinkering with some device, the usual silence emanating from him. He looks up as I approach.

"Invincible," he greets, "Do you require something?"

"Yes, actually," I reply. "I was wondering if I could use some of the equipment and materials you've got lying around. I need to put together a basic space navigator."

Robot tilts his head slightly, curious. "A navigator? For the Mars mission?"

I nod. "Yeah. Cecil wants me to shadow the astronauts, but I was thinking about flying ahead to check for any potential threats ahead. Specifically, I need something to keep track of Earth, Mars, and their ship, so I don't get separated."

Robot considers my request for a moment, then nods. "I don't see why not. But do you think you might require assistance?"

Before I can respond, a sudden commotion from across the room grabs our attention. I turn to see Black Samson with his hands around Rex's throat, just like something out of The Simpsons. Rex's legs dangle, and he's flailing like a madman, though you can tell Samson is pissed, judging by his manhandling and shouting at Rex.

Robot sighs. "I am going to have to take back the offer unfortunately, but it seems I'm going to have to step away, apologies, Mark"

"No problem," I snort. "Also you might want to hurry looks like Rex reached a new shade of purple"

He pauses, watching Rex slowly turn an even darker purple, then looks back at me. "Good luck with your project."

As Robot speed-walks over to break up the attempted murder, I can't help but laugh. It seems Rex has inherited the original Mark's habit of getting his ass beat. Turning back to the task at hand, I grab what I need and head to a workbench.

The navigator pings just as I finish making the last few tweaks, right on time. I exhale in relief. I wouldn't say I'm cutting it close, but I'm definitely not giving myself any room for error. As I float next to the spacecraft, Cecil's voice cuts in over the comms.

"Good timing, Invincible. Remember, stay out of sight unless something goes wrong. You're here to shadow the astronauts and, if necessary, deal with the Martians."

I nod, even though Cecil can't see me. "Understood," I say, trying to sound as serious as I can. Of course, I already know the deal—the Martians live underground, keep to themselves, and they're not the ones I'm worried about.

It's the Sequids.

I glance at my navigator. The ship is right on track for Mars, as expected, and I've got everything laid out. Earth, Mars, the ship—it's all there. I flick it on, thinking ahead. If I can get to Mars early, I can clear out the Sequids before they even become a threat. It'd be the smart move.

"Hey, Cecil," I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I was thinking... since I'm faster than the ship, what if I went ahead to check for potential threats? You know, make sure everything's clear before the astronauts even get close."

There's a pause on the line, and I can almost hear Cecil weighing his options. He's cautious by nature, and I know he's not entirely convinced I can pull this off without a hitch. Still, I've been handling myself pretty well, and he knows it. He's also seen how I've been doing against Nolan in previous spars, and knows I can match just about match Nolan in strength and even heard that he surpassed him in speed.

And that's part of why he's nervous.

"Only if you check thoroughly," Cecil finally says, his voice laced with caution. "And you get back to them the moment something seems off."

"I will," I reply, as seriously as I can. He doesn't need to know that I'm already planning to deal with a certain parasitic threat on Mars.

As I speed ahead, the real reason behind Cecil's careful watch on me lingers in my mind. It's not just about trust—it's about power. He's been comparing me to my dad, and he's not wrong to be cautious. If both Omni-Man and I decided to turn… well, Earth wouldn't stand much of a chance. And Cecil knows it. Heck, I know it, remembering the variants of Invincible that took over the planet with and without Nolan's help.

That's why he's got bugs in our house. Keeps an eye on us, just in case. Smart guy. But I'm not Nolan, and this trip to Mars? It's about proving that.

With my navigator locked onto Mars, I press forward, ready to deal with the Sequids before they get the chance to become a problem.

As I blaze through space, the ship gradually falls behind, my navigator confirming it's still on course. Over the next few days, I check a solid chunk of space around the direction the ship is heading. A bit of a patrol to ensure nothing's going to catch it off guard. The further I go, the more confident I am that it's smooth sailing all the way to Mars.

Turns out, I've got more stamina than I thought. First day without sleep? Not too bad. By what I figure is the second day, I start realizing I don't even feel tired. My adaptation's kicking in, helping me push through without feeling the usual crash. By the time the third day rolls around, I only clock in about four hours of sleep before I'm up again, fully charged. Guess the whole "not needing much sleep" thing is going to come in handy.

Three days ahead of schedule, I finally arrive at Mars. The navigator lets me know I've beaten the ship with time to spare. Now to get the Martians' attention—because walking in like a tourist isn't exactly on my to-do list.

I land with a solid thud, but that's not enough. If I want to meet the Martians and not waste time, I've got to make some noise. So, I punch the ground. Hard.

The crater I make is deep—miles, at least—and loud enough that the ground around me shakes violently. I stand at the bottom, waiting, arms crossed. I've got to hand it to the Martians; they don't take long to react. In about ten minutes, I see them approach from the edges of the crater, weapons raised.

"About damn time y'all got here!" I shout grinning up at them, then I fly up and land at the edge.

The Martians don't waste any time, flanking me on both sides with weapons drawn and start leading me to their underground city. I can feel their eyes on me, but they stay quiet. It'd be almost eerie if it were any more quiet . So, of course, I try to break the silence.

"Nice place you got here," I say, peering around at the ancient, carved-out tunnels. "Kinda reminds me of that time I visited the desert, though I couldn't stand it. You see I don't like sand, it's coarse, rough, irritating and it gets everywhere."

No response.

"Hey, you guys ever heard of christianity? Pretty popular where I'm from."

Still nothing. I glance over, thinking I see a raised eyebrow on one of them. Close, but no cigar.

By the time we reach their emperor's chambers, I've tried about a dozen more one-liners and quips, but none of them have landed. The closest reaction I get is what might be a twitch from one of the guards. I'll take it as a win.

As the doors open, we walk into a massive room, adorned with Martian symbols and a large throne where the emperor sits. The other Martians line up, each upon the side of the emperor, and more surrounding me.

"Who are you?" the emperor asks, his voice booming and authoritative. He eyes me carefully, disdain clear on his face. "You have been caught trespassing on the surface, it is forbidden for any being to set foot here. You should have stayed where you came from, outsider."

I sigh, already knowing where this is going, not answering the question. "Look, I'm just here to kill all the Sequids, so if you could just let me know where to go that would be great."

The emperor's eyes narrow. "The Sequids are a slave race, our slave race, they are no threat to us. But you, you are a different kind of threat. If one of those creatures were to attach itself to you, it would spell the doom of Mars."

He snaps his fingers, and a row of Martian guards raises their weapons.

"Yeah, I figured this was coming," I mutter. "Execution, right?"

"Correct," the emperor declares. "No other being could withstand—"

"Hold on." I snatch a weapon from a nearby guard before anyone can react. The Martians flinch, raising their weapons higher, but I roll my eyes.

"Relax, I'm not gonna hurt anyone," I say, twirling the weapon casually in my hand. "Just proving a point here."

Before anyone can stop me, I press the blade to my skin and push down hard. The Martian weapon, which looks like it could pierce through solid steel, snaps in two against my skin with a loud crack.

The room falls silent, and the guards freeze. I hold up the broken pieces, raising an eyebrow.

"See? I'm not so squishy. Now are you all done?"

The Martians stare, dumbfounded, while I toss the pieces aside.

"I'll take that as a yes, now can we please talk about those Sequids?" I say, clearly enjoying the mix of shock and disbelief on their faces.

The moment the Martians realize I'm no longer asking for cooperation, the emperor's expression shifts from concern to sheer panic. His voice trembles as he gives the command, "Kill him!"

Immediately, every Martian in the room springs into action, throwing everything they've got at me. Beams of energy, spears, and whatever technology they have at their disposal—all of it is launched my way.

But it doesn't matter. I keep walking toward the emperor, barely fazed. They even try to bind me by morphing together, entangling my limbs, but I just calmly pull them off me. I don't even break my stride. It's like they're nothing more than a nuisance, barely an itch on my skin.

The closer I get, the more desperate they become. The emperor's guards throw themselves at me in increasingly frantic and frankly desperate attacks, but they drop one after another as I continue my path of destruction. Some lucky ones I just throw away, the rest are getting the donut treatment.

When I reach the emperor, he's visibly shaking. His proud demeanor crumbles as he stares at me with wide, terrified eyes. "Please," he begs, "Spare me. We—we can still work something out."

I ignore him. With a swift punch, I aim directly at his chest. His core—the essential organ of the Martian body—shifts, trying to avoid my strike, moving up to his head. Too slow. I'm faster, my reaction time far beyond what his fragile form can handle. My fist punches through him, bursting out the other side.

In an instant, his head and core explode into a grotesque display of gore, splattering across the throne as his body collapses forward. I step aside, letting his lifeless form fall beside me.

The room goes dead silent. I look down at the emperor's mangled body, then glance up at the rest of the Martians, their faces etched in horror.

"So, anyone feel like giving me the location of all the Sequids now?" I ask, casually wiping some gray matter off my glove.

One Martian, clearly more foolhardy than the others, charges me, screaming something about honor or vengeance. I don't even wait for him to get close. With a flick of my wrist, I cut him in half killing him, there being too much damage even if his core is still intact, both halves crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.

I glance back at the others. "Anyone else want to go in line? Or can we get this over with?"

The remaining Martians, fear now the only thing keeping them upright, scramble to comply. In moments, they begin assisting me in locating every Sequid hive location on Mars.

With the Martians guiding him, Mark methodically tracks down each Sequid cluster, eliminating them without hesitation. The Martians have been told to deal with any stragglers. For efficiency's sake, Mark turns himself into a literal windmill of destruction, arms outstretched as he spins through hordes of Sequids at full speed. He is also pushing his speed while he does so, trying to sneak in any little gains he can.

One by one, the Sequids fall, destroyed by a force far beyond what they could comprehend. By the time he hovers above the last cluster, it's all over. A few Martians stand aside, unsure of what will happen next. They stare up at him, hovering above them, radiating power.

"I'm leaving for now," Mark says, his voice steady but cold. "But listen carefully: in a couple of days, humans are coming as will I. You are not to interact with them. They shouldn't even be a thought in your heads when they get here. This is the last time you'll ever see me. And if you show yourselves when the humans are here…"

He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in as the Martians tremble beneath him.

"I won't hesitate to kill you."

He floats higher, his shadow casting over them, making his presence all the more intimidating. Without another word, he turns and rockets into the sky, leaving the terrified Martians in his wake.

With the Sequids obliterated and the Martians no longer a threat, Mark jets back towards the astronauts' ship, pulling out his navigator. He taps into his comms.

"Cecil, space is clear," Mark says. "Mars is also good to go. The astronauts won't have any problems when they land."

"Anything I should know about?" Cecil's voice buzzes through the earpiece.

"Martians and I worked something out. They won't interfere with the mission." Mark offers a half-truth, leaving out the details of his, well, forceful negotiations.

Cecil sounds skeptical but relieved. "Good to hear. Stay low until they finish up."

Mark hovers nearby, keeping a safe distance from the ship, making sure the rest of the mission goes smoothly. Aside from a lone Martian, currently a rock, getting closer to the astronauts. Hello Shapesmith. The astronauts don't even notice he's there, silently watching the Martian, he sees him attaching and blending in on one of them.

The balls on this guy. I think grinning at the scene.

With some time to kill, Mark glances at the red surface below him. Grabbing a small, jagged rock from the Martian terrain, he tucks it away with a slight smirk. Eve's gonna love this.

The rest of the mission proceeds without any complications, and Mark feels a sense of calm knowing the job's done. He took down the Sequids and has the peace of mind that the astronauts are safe, but more importantly, he's eager to get back to Eve.