A/N: EDIT: Alas, this chapter isn't getting much in the way of feedback due to the site glitches, that's a real spirit breaker... can anyone even see this...? T_T
Here we go! As promised, a Thursday update! Dark helped immensely with this chapter. We also have news!
Invincible is now on the weekly week rotation...
...with a twist~!
Meaning, my health permitting, updates will henceforth become bi-weekly for both Apples and Atoms and Vanguard. We made an exception for Vanguard on Monday, but starting Thursday (today) its every other week. In short, Vanguard will be updated next Thursday, (April 3rd) followed by Apples on the 10th, so on and so forth.
Hopefully folks enjoy that.
As always, I appreciate any review given. It truly does help me write. Large or small, any feedback is better than nothing at all.
As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than little 'ol me. I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time. Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story. Simple as that. As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes, one and all.
As always, we'll be listing Naruto's current offspring in order from oldest to youngest from here on out to prevent confusion. First and foremost, there's Samantha (Eve), then Joshua, Luca, Jessica, and finally little Amanda.
Last but not least, we're going to keep running with the class Invincible meme of:
*Insert Title Card* the first time any character says the titular word.
Not EVERY time mind you, that'd be excessive.
Folks found it funny last time.
Away we go!
"Here's the thing...multiverse theory's a bitch."
~You Know Who.
What We Fear
The Maulers looked up from their work as the warehouse door swung open.
Mauler One blinked.
Mauler Two blinked HARD.
In hindsight Naruto couldn't really blame them; there WERE two of him, after all, small wonder they were confused. He'd informed them over the phone of what would be happening -of the change in plans-but even then seeing was believing. They edged back warily from his dour counterpart, giving him a wide berth as he stalked over to the machine that would -should!- restore his wife.
The Maulers had done good work for him in the past, and they would in the future.
What had Cecil said? Don't waste talent. Even his own alternate was arguing for it. He'd have to look through that notebook once he got back. There was work to be done on that front; allies to recruit, enemies to destroy, crises to avert...if, in fact, his other self was telling the truth.
Maybe he should share some of it with Cecil...
Still, one of the Maulers somehow had the gall to grin at him. "Dabbling in cloning yourself now, are we?"
Sinister snarled and stalked past them, eyes darkly intent on the pod.
Naruto walked after him. "Don't mind him. He's a dick."
"I heard that, you cheeky whippersnapper! Stop yapping and start helping! Are you blue buffoons ready or not?!
The leftmost Mauler managed a nod, only for a first to thrust itself at his chest.
"Here." Sinister shoved the chip containing Polly's memories into their hands. "Break this, and I'll break you. Now, are you ready?"
The twins exchanged an annoyed glance, but reluctantly agreed.
"We're ready."
(.0.0.0.)
Rudolph Connors was ready.
Known as "Robot" to the outside world at large -his true name and face unknown to all but a select few- his twisted malformed body hidden away, contained in a glass tank where none could see him. Such had been his life for a time- a very long time indeed, now.
But no longer!
He had chosen his timing well, waited until the ideal moment when Fire Shadow was away from his abode. His latest drone was well-prepared; made particularly sturdy; hopefully capable of standing up to a proper punch from the mighty monarch.
Was that the right title to give him? Possibly. He hoped so.
Fire Shadow was not a being he wished to provoke without proper protection; even before captivity he had proven himself near godlike in his own right. He'd only grown stronger since. Strong enough to contend with the likes of Viltrumites and more, to cause natural disasters and whip up storms in his wake.
Oh, yes. He had been watching. Waiting, and in waiting, observing.
But more than observe, he had done what few else could.
Listening.
Such a powerful body. If he had his DNA and the proper cloning facilities, he could craft a body that would truly be...
*Insert Title Card*
...but he did not dare. Any attempt to take genetic material from him without permission would result in disaster. His senses were legendary; he would surely sense such an attempt. And even should he succeed he had no idea how to USE this vaunted chakra substance.
Such required training; methods he currently lacked.
And so he remained bound behind the glass, trapped in this malformed shell.
In truth a small part of him preferred things this way; better for them to see the metal shell than the malformed monster beneath.
But he longed to be normal, to see the outside word.
To touch.
Feel.
Be.
Perhaps that was a bit poetic of him. He'd had no one but his own thoughts for quite some time now. Working with the Mauler Twins was not something he'd considered. What was the saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? He would be the first to admit he did not entirely understand humanity; ironic, given he was more human than Fire Shadow and his entire hybrid family.
But that was neither here nor there. He was stalling. He knew he was; how foreign it was to feel fear; he'd not felt it since his parents first placed him the tank. Fire Shadow could -and would- kill him in properly provoked. Moreover, he had no reason to help him, even when asked. Yet he had to reach out to him again. He must, else he'd go mad.
Bracing himself, he sent a mental command to his drone, bidding it to step toward the Mauler's warehouse.
He was distracted. Open to dialogue. This was his one chance.
His best opportunity!
A sudden flare of pink light split the sky behind him, arced upward, and struck the drone from the side, annihilating it in a single blast. He scarcely had time to comprehend the sudden ambush before it ended, obliterating the drone and the delicate electronics within it in a rush of fire. The feed cut off in a rush of static, but not before he glimpsed a scowling face.
Rudolph heaved a watery sigh within his tank. Blast. He'd forgotten about the daughter.
Thrice he had sought to approach Naruto now and thrice he had stymied.
Today, it seemed, would be another day just as the last.
For now, he would maintain his silent vigil.
Someday he'd escape this tube.
That day would come.
But not today.
(.0.0.0.)
Naruto held his breath as the chamber hissed and fell silent, the last lights on the Mauler Twins' contraption flickering out.
A thin wisp of cooling mist curled around the glass tube where a woman's still form lay . Polly… No, not his Polly – she stood beside him, squeezing his hand so hard it almost hurt – but the other Polly, the one from Sinister's world. The one he was sacrificing so much to bring back. That body wasn't meant for, her, it had been meant for HIS wife, and now they'd have to fashion another, complete with a complex chakra system.
Naruto's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for a sign, any sign, that their gamble had paid off.
Polly squeezed his hand anew; she had insisted on being here to see this through. Now her violet eyes were fixed on her alternate self with a mix of awe and trepidation.
Across from him, Sinister Naruto—his darker counterpart—stood rigid with tension. The usually confident, cold-eyed warrior now looked suddenly, unmistakably vulnerable. Sinister pressed both palms flat to the glass, his face inches from the barrier as he peered at his wife's unmoving features inside. Naruto could see the tremor in the man's arms. Despite all his power, Sinister was afraid.
Afraid to hope.
Behind them, the small crowd of onlookers seemed to share the same taut silence. Eve hovered near his shoulder, pink energy flickering unconsciously around her fists in in a fit of nerves. To her, the woman in that chamber was another version of her mother—a mom from a world where things went very differently.
They'd had to leave her younger siblings with Brandyworth for this. Wouldn't do to scar the poor kiddos if -and that was a big IF- this worked.
Even Angstrom Levy had fallen quiet, his usual smug commentary absent as he watched from the corner, arms folded. The dark-skinned dimension traveler swallowed, looking markedly uneasy at the sight of what his knowledge had helped accomplish.
By the far wall, Anissa lingered with arms crossed tightly, jaw set. The Viltrumite woman tried to appear aloof, but Naruto saw how her eyes flicked to the chamber with undisguised apprehension. The raw emotion in the room was enough to make even a hardened soldier shift on her feet.
A soft beep signaled the final heartbeat monitor coming online. Naruto exhaled sharply as inside the chamber, the woman's chest rose—first a tiny, shallow breath, then another. She was breathing. The restoration had worked. By the Sage, it actually worked… he thought, relief and disbelief flooding him in equal measure. He exchanged a quick, hopeful glance with his Polly, whose lips parted in a silent gasp.
Sinister moved first.
In a blur he yanked open the chamber door. The seal broke with a gust of cool air as he wrested it aside and flung it into a wall. He reached in with trembling hands to gather the limp form of his wife.
The Maulers edged back, wisely holding their tongues. Just as well. There were some lines you didn't cross, and you did not mock a man's wife.
"Polly…?" Sinister's voice, usually so arrogant and sure, emerged a broken whisper. Gently, he eased her out, cradling her against his armored chest. The woman's head lolled on his shoulder as he lowered her to the ground, kneeling.
For a terrifying moment, her eyes remained closed. Naruto felt Polly's nails dig into his hand, heard Eve's sharp intake of breath. Then the woman stirred. Her fingers curled weakly into the fabric of Sinister's black cloak. Her eyes fluttered open.
Naruto's memory flashed to a similar moment months ago: Polly – his Polly – opening her eyes after twelve years in a forced coma . The shock and fearful hope in her gaze… He saw the same thing now in this Polly's eyes as they struggled to focus on the face above her as she stirred in her new body.
She blinked, disoriented. "N-Naruto…?" she croaked, voice thin from long disuse. Her gaze roamed over Sinister's face. Naruto realized Sinister still wore the bone-white mask he'd donned in battle – a habit from ruling his world – and perhaps it confused her. With a shaking hand, Sinister tore the mask off and tossed it aside. He leaned closer, letting her see him fully.
"It's me," Sinister choked out. He brushed sweat-damp golden hair from her brow. "I'm here, love. I'm here." The raw emotion on the man's face was startling despite his refined speech – Naruto had never heard himself sound like that, so desperate and tender.
The woman – Polly – focused on him.
Slowly, recognition dawned and a fragile smile crept onto her lips. "You…you did it," she whispered. "You saved me." A trembling hand rose to cup Sinister's cheek, much as Naruto's own wife had once done to him . Sinister all but nuzzled into her palm, tears bright in his eyes.
For an instant, Naruto felt an immense wave of triumph and relief wash through the room. They had done something good. Something miraculous. Behind him he heard Eve emit a joyful little sob, as his Polly murmured, "Thank heavens…" even as her voice quivered. He even allowed himself a small smile, basking in the afterglow of what they'dd one.
But the moment of joy shattered almost as soon as it began. Polly's restored gaze drifted past her husband's shoulder—and fell on Eve.
Naruto saw the change immediately. Polly's eyes, warm with reunion a heartbeat before, widened in sudden bewilderment at the sight of the pink-haired teen. "S-Samantha…?" she breathed. Sinister tensed, turning to follow her line of sight.
Eve stepped forward uncertainly. "Hello," she said softly, tears still shining on her cheeks. She managed a wobbly smile. "I'm… I'm Eve." Naturally, she defaulted to her nickname." Are you feeling alright?"
At the name Eve, a shadow of confusion crossed the revived woman's face. She looked between Eve and Naruto's Polly, who now stood just behind her daughter with an astonished expression. Slowly, the color drained from the woman's cheeks. Her hand clutched Sinister's cloak.
"This… this isn't my world," she realized in a whisper. Her eyes darted around the room, really taking it in for the first time—the banks of unfamiliar machines, the faces of strangers, the duplicate versions of people she knew. She saw Naruto standing with her own double. She saw two Narutos—one holding her, and one across the room.
Polly's breath hitched in panic. "Where… where's my daughter?" she rasped suddenly, voice rising in alarm. Her gaze swung back to Eve—so like the daughter she remembered, yet older, and cautious, and standing with another Polly who held a baby. "Samantha!" the word escaped her in a pained croak. "Where is she!"
Sinister's arms tightened around her. "She's not here," he said, anguish threading through each word. "Love, look at me. She—" He struggled to get the words out. "SHe didn't…make it. I'm sorry."
Naruto felt his throat constrict. He knew this truth would cut like a knife. In Sinister's ravaged world, their "Eve" was gone —lost in whatever calamity had befallen them. They had brought her across worlds, but they could not bring back the rest of her family, long since turned to dust in the wind.
For a heartbeat, Polly just stared at her husband as if not understanding. Then her face crumpled. A wail of despair tore from her lips. "No…no, no!" She pushed away from Sinister's chest, lurching unsteadily to her feet. Sinister rose with her, refusing to let go, but she pounded weakly at his shoulders. "Why? Where is Samantha? Where is my baby?!" she cried. Her violet eyes, so like Naruto's Polly's, overflowed with sudden tears. "Where is she?!"
Eve pressed a hand to her mouth, emotions finally breaking loose as half-ran toward the devastated woman. "I'm here!" she blurted out, instinctively wanting to comfort her. "I-I mean—I'm a Samantha. I'm your Samantha in this world." She hesitated, unsure if her words helped or hurt. "I'm safe, I'm alive. It's okay—"
Naruto reeled her back, afraid of an imminent explosion.
But Polly only sobbed harder; she didn't even seem to see her. "My Samantha…my little girl…" Her knees buckled, and Sinister supported her carefully to the floor. She didn't seem to notice Eve's offer at all, lost in a private world of grief. Her hands fisted into Sinister's cloak, and she buried her face against his chest. "She's gone!" Polly keened, the sound ragged and hollow. "I h-have nothing…nothing left!"
Naruto felt tears prick his own eyes at the sight. Just minutes ago, this woman had been dead—or as good as—and now she was alive, only to feel such immeasurable pain.
We gave her life, but not the life she truly wanted, he thought with a heavy heart. He stepped forward, longing to help somehow, but froze, realizing there was nothing he could do to mend this wound. All his powers, all his miracles, and he couldn't reunite a mother with her lost child.
The knowledge burned.
Sinister Naruto held his wife tightly, bowing his head over her as she wept, his face a mask of torment. Naruto could see his counterpart's jaw working, hear the hitch in his breath as he fought back his own tears. Sinister's blue eyes met his across the sobbing woman's shoulder, and in them he beheld a familiar helplessness. He wants to comfort her, to make this right, and he can't. Sinister had conquered his world, bent civilization to his will—yet here and now, he was utterly powerless.
Polly—the original—approached carefully, tears streaming down her face in empathy. Slowly, carefully, she knelt on the other side of her alternate self. Gently, she placed a hand on the grieving woman's back. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her own voice breaking. "I know it hurts. I…I lost twelve years with my Samantha. I thought I'd lost her forever. I can't imagine losing all of them." Her words were soft, meant only for the other Polly, but Naruto heard the tremor of shared pain.
The crying woman lifted her head, eyes red and desperate. She looked at the face of her counterpart—identical to hers but lined with concern—and then at Eve, who hovered nearby trembling. Realization seemed to dawn fully: this world's Polly had her daughter alive, had even more children, a family intact. And the unfairness of it all slammed into the revived mother like a tidal wave. She clutched at Polly's sleeve, searching her face. "Your Samantha…she's here?"
Took her long enough to notice.
"Yes," the original -his!- Polly answered gently. She reached out and drew Eve closer with her free arm. Eve knelt, allowing this stranger—yet not a stranger—to take her hand. "This is my daughter, our daughter. She's standing right in front of you, healthy and strong." she offered a kind smile, though tears spilled down her cheeks. "And you are alive to see her, even if she's not exactly the one you remember."
Sinister's Polly stared at Eve through her tears. Her gaze swept over the girl's face – so full of concern, so painfully similar to the little Samantha she'd cradled and sung to sleep in another life. Shaking, she lifted a trembling hand toward Eve's cheek, then halted, snatching it back. "No," she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "This isn't mine. None of this is mine… My babies are gone!" Her voice cracked on that final word, and she doubled over in grief.
Eve burst into tears then, unable to contain herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She reached out despite the woman's protest, wrapping Polly (her mother's double, a woman who in another world had loved her deeply) in a tentative embrace. "I'm so, so sorry." The older woman didn't resist. She collapsed against Eve's shoulder, sobbing openly now. "I wish there was something I could so...
But she couldn't. None of them could.
Naruto looked away, chest tight as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. There was a weight in the air, an ache in his chest he hadn't felt in a long time. It reminded him of battles lost, of funerals attended… of the day he'd first thought Polly had died years ago. It was wrong—they had achieved something incredible tonight, and still it wasn't enough. Some things, even chakra and science and multiverse portals, could not fix.
He sensed movement at the edge of the room and glanced toward it.
Well that he did, too; because Anissa abruptly turned upon one heel and stomped toward the exit, her posture stiff. The Viltrumite's eyes were downcast beneath her dark brows, her expression a storm of discomfort and distress she clearly didn't want anyone to notice. But he did. Eve as she Anissa pushed open the heavy door with perhaps more force than necessary, he caught a glimpse of her face – a flash of pain, swiftly masked as anger.
Without thinking, Naruto gently freed his hand from his wife's. Polly looked up at him questioningly through her tears.
"Go," she whispered, nodding toward the door. "Talk to her."
She understood: Anissa shouldn't be alone right now.
Even so, he didn't want to leave them alone.
Naruto squeezed Polly's shoulder in silent thanks and stepped away from the heartbreaking reunion unfolding on the floor.
Angstrom Levy edged aside as Naruto passed, unusually somber. The portal-maker's eyes were fixed on the two Pollys and Eve huddled together. Gone was his typical smug grin – instead he looked unsettled, even sad. Naruto had no time to dwell on it, but he felt the significance: even Angstrom, who had wandered countless worlds, seemed struck by the cost of crossing universes etched in the sobbing woman's cries.
"Levy-
"I know." Angstrom finally pushed himself off a nearby wall and deigned to speak, "No harm will come to them. Besides, I need to have a word with the Maulers anyway...
Naruto slipped out the door after Anissa, leaving behind the sounds of quiet weeping and murmured consolations. As the door closed, he heard Sinister's voice break at last in a whispered apology to his wife, and Polly's answering sob. It was almost too much to bear. They had given this family a second chance at life, but not a second chance at joy. Naruto's fists clenched.
Sometimes, even a victory can feel like a defeat, he thought grimly as he hurried down the corridor after Anissa's retreating figure.
(.0.0.0.)
Anissa moved fast, nearly as fast as when she flew.
By the time he emerged into the dimly lit corridor, she was already halfway to the exit that led to the facility's rooftop. She didn't so much as glance back.
Naruto jogged to catch up, his shinobi-trained steps quiet but determined.
"Anissa!" he called gently. His voice echoed off the concrete walls, stopping her at the threshold of the roof access. She stood rigid, facing away, one hand braced against the door frame. For a long moment she didn't answer. Naruto could see the rise and fall of her shoulders as she took a shuddering breath.
Finally, without looking back, Anissa spoke, her tone harsh and tightly controlled. "What do you want?" She pushed the heavy metal door open, and cool night air swept into the hallway. Above, the sky was a deep black canvas pricked with stars.
He approached slowly, giving her space, wary of spurring her into violence. "I just wanted to check on you," he said.
...you've checked," she grunted. "Happy now?"
Hooo boy.
He followed her through the doorway onto the flat rooftop. The city stretched out beyond the lab's compound, lights glittering in the distance. A breeze tugged at Anissa's short ebony hair and rustled Naruto's blond locks, but it was he who spoke next. "That was… a lot to take in back there."
Anissa let out a short, bitter laugh. "You think?" She moved to the edge of the roof, planting her hands on the concrete ledge and staring out at the horizon. In the pale moonlight, her usually proud face was cast in shadow. He could still see the conflict written there: her brows drawn together, lips pressed thin. Not anger, not exactly. Something more raw.
He stepped up beside her, resting his forearms on the ledge. For a while, neither of them spoke. The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the gentle whoosh of wind. Naruto gave her time, sensing she needed it. He remembered countless nights back in Konoha standing atop the Hokage Monument when things got hard—sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend silently by his side. Sometimes silence could speak volumes.
At length, Anissa broke the quiet, her voice low. "I'm not used to this…feeling." She clenched a fist against the ledge. "Watching that woman grieve… seeing everyone in there so—so broken." She exhaled sharply through her nose. "It shouldn't bother me. I've seen people cry before. I've seen worlds burn." Her tone tried to be cold, but it faltered. "Viltrumites are taught that strength is what matters. That weakness and sentimentality will only get you killed."
Naruto tilted his head, studying her profile. "Do you believe that?"
Anissa's jaw tightened. She didn't answer directly. Instead, she looked to the stars above. "Back home, if someone lost their family… they'd be expected to move on, or at least hide their pain. Public displays of sorrow—" She shook her head. "They're…shameful." The word came out quieter, as if she herself wasn't so sure anymore. "Weakness."
Naruto's heart squeezed as he realized how much she must have been holding in. Anissa always wore a mask of brash confidence, quick with a cruel quip or a dismissive sneer. To see her disturbed, even hurt, by another's sorrow was something new. "There's no shame in what Polly's feeling," he said gently. "Or in what you're feeling, Anissa."
At that, she rounded on him, eyes flashing. "And what exactly do you think I'm feeling?" she snapped. The defensive anger in her voice didn't hide the glimmer of wetness in her dark eyes. "You think I'm upset? That I pity her? I barely know that woman!" she straightened to her full height, crossing her arms like a shield. "This is ridiculous."
Naruto met her gaze steadily, letting her vent. He recognized the pattern: anger as a cover for pain. He'd done it himself more than once in his youth. "Maybe you don't know her," he agreed, "but you understand loss. Anyone could see that hit you hard in there."
Anissa opened her mouth as if to argue, but no words came. She turned away again, one hand rubbing at her eyes in frustration. "Damn it," she muttered, voice thick. "I don't even know why it hit me. I barely flinched when my own father died in battle. Why do I care that some woman from another universe is crying over her spawn?"
"Child," he corrected gently. "She's lost her daughter, ya know...
She gnashed her teeth and didn't respond.
Naruto stepped closer and spoke softly, "You're upset you have a heart, no matter how much you pretend otherwise." He offered a faint, understanding smile. "You care more than you want to admit."
She glared at him over her shoulder. "Care? I'm a soldier of the Viltrum Empire, Uzumaki. I'm not some weak-kneed Earthling ruled by my emotions." The words rang hollow, and they both knew it; after a beat, she let out a slow, unsteady breath. "At least…I wasn't." Her gaze fell to her hands, fingers curling and uncurling as if she didn't know what to do with them. In a small voice, she added, "Everything's changed. I've changed, and I don't know what to do about it."
He could think of a few things, none of which he dared say aloud.
"That smiling "Sinister" version of yourself," she said suddenly, surprising him. "He claimed to have killed me in his world. Without thought. Without hesitation. Without remorse. Such is what a warrior should be. Cold and pragmatic. Ruthless and unfeeling. Unfettered by such...sentiment...
Something wet dripped down onto the rooftop.
Was that a...?
Naruto felt a swell of empathy. Carefully, he reached out and placed a hand on Anissa's shoulder. She tensed at the contact but didn't pull away.
"You've been through a lot recently," he said. He thought of the upheavals she'd faced: discovering truths about Nolan perhaps, witnessing his family fight with such fierce love, even possibly questioning her mission here on Earth. "It's okay to feel conflicted. It means you're thinking for yourself, not just doing what you were taught."
She closed her eyes, another tear slipping free before she hurriedly brushed it away. When she spoke, her tone was laced with bitterness—at herself, not him. "You don't understand. If I start caring…if I start sympathizing with humans, with anyone, it could make me hesitate when the time comes." Her voice dropped. "Hesitation gets you killed. Or worse."
Naruto's grip on her shoulder firmed, preventing her from bolting. "That's what your people taught you. Lemme tell you what I've learned: caring about others is not a weakness." He thought of all the battles he survived because he had people to protect, not despite it. "My empathy, my connections—they make me stronger. They give me something to fight for, to live for."
Anissa finally looked directly at him, her eyes searching his. "How do I reconcile that with who I'm supposed to be?" she whispered. "I was sent here to…to do a job. To prepare this planet for subjugation." It was the first time she'd openly admitted that to Naruto, and it hung in the air like a dark cloud between them. "If I fail my duty—if I falter—I betray the Empire. But after all I've seen with you, with your family…I'm not sure I can just follow orders anymore." Her voice cracked, anger and despair mingling. "I hate this. I hate feeling…weak."
She gripped her right wrist and squeezed; he heard the bones in her arm creak audibly.
Would she tear off her own arm in a fit of anger?
Hopefully not-but he wouldn't chance it.
Naruto stepped in front of her, gently turning her by the shoulders to face him fully. "Look at me, Anissa." She reluctantly met his eyes as he spoke. "You're not weak. Far from it. It takes strength to question what you've always been told, to feel and still stand your ground." His tone was earnest, each word deliberate. "Tonight, you saw that even doing something good can have pain. And it scared you. I get that. But you didn't turn away because you're weak—you turned away because you care. Because you have a conscience. And that makes you stronger than any cold-hearted conqueror."
She swallowed hard. "Stronger…? It doesn't feel that way."
He offered a small smile, bittersweet in its sorrow. "Feelings rarely do at first. Give it time." He let his hands fall from her shoulders, leaving only a comforting presence behind. "I know you, Anissa. You're one of the toughest people I've met. You could probably punch straight through this building if you wanted." That earned him the faintest ghost of a smirk on her lips. "But true strength isn't just muscle and power. It's also heart. And you've got that, even if you've tried to bury it."
Anissa looked down, her short hair casting shadows over her eyes. Naruto could sense the war inside her easing, just a fraction. "Back in there," she said softly, "when Polly started crying…I wanted to leave, yes. But a part of me… a part of me wanted to do something. Anything to stop that pain." She shook her head restlessly, grumbling under her breath. "And I realized I didn't know how. I don't know how to comfort someone like that. Not without feeling…lost."
Was this the breakthrough he'd been after? Possibly. He didn't dare say it aloud.
Instead, he nodded. "None of us really know, honestly. There's no easy fix for that kind of pain." Pivoting away from her, he leaned against the ledge, looking up at the stars. "All we can do is be there for each other. Let them know they're not alone in it. Sometimes that's enough." He glanced back at her. "You being there, even if you didn't say a word—that mattered."
She let out a slow breath, steadying herself. "Perhaps." Silence fell between them again, but it was less strained now, more contemplative. Anissa uncrossed her arms. She looked at him with an expression that might have been gratitude. "Thank you… for coming after me," she said stiffly, unused to voicing such sentiments. "I'd prefer you keep this between us." She gestured vaguely at her face, indicating the tears she'd tried to hide. "If Thragg or the others ever learned I—"
Naruto held up a hand and smiled kindly. "This stays between us," he promised. He mimed zipping his lips. "Besides, I doubt anyone in there was in any state to notice you leaving, except maybe Levy. And he's got his own problems."
At the mention of Angstrom, Anissa snorted softly and rolled her eyes. "That little worm sees everything, I swear." The tension in her posture had loosened, replaced by her familiar sardonic edge—though gentler now. She inhaled deeply, seeming to draw strength from the crisp night air. "I just needed…air. I'm fine."
It wasn't entirely true, but Naruto didn't call her on it.
"Alright," he replied easily. He leaned out over the ledge slightly, peering down. "Not thinking of taking off on me, are you?" A wry note entered his voice. "I can keep up, you know."
Anissa managed a chuckle—quiet and brief, but real. "Hmph. You're welcome to try." She glanced at him, and this time her eyes held something softer. "But no. I won't run." She squared her shoulders, as if bracing herself. "We should get back. I left in a…hurry."
Naruto understood: she had bolted because she felt overwhelmed, and maybe now she felt a twinge of guilt for abandoning the others. "They'll understand," he assured. He gestured toward the door. "Whenever you're ready."
Anissa nodded. Together, they walked back toward the stairwell. Just before heading inside, she paused and put a hand on Naruto's arm. He looked back, and she opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated. Finally, she said in a low tone, "Your family… You really think that's what gives you strength? Loving them like that?"
He saw the chink in her metaphorical armor. It took everything he had not to whoop with joy. Breakthrough successful~!
Naruto smiled warmly, thinking of Polly, Eve, and all the others waiting below. "I know it is. They're my reason for everything." He met Anissa's gaze. "You'll find your reason too. Something—or someone—that makes it all worth it."
For a fleeting second, a distant look crossed Anissa's face, as if a memory or thought stirred. He wondered if she would speak on it.
Instead she simply replied, "Maybe."
He acted without think and looped an arm around Anissa's waist, drawing her closer. The Viltrumite warrior tensed again, this time for an altogether different reason; he knew what she was expecting, saw the flash of raw hunger in her eyes as she leaned into him...only for him to deliver a quick peck on her cheek.
"It'll be alright, ya know."
Anissa blinked and drew back, briefly befuddled. "I do not understand. Why kiss my face instead of my lips? Is this an earth custom?"
Naruto laughed. "You'll understand someday."
She latched onto him with a growl, grabbing him by the waist. "I wish to understand now."
"Nope." he broke her hold easily and took three steps back, quietly reveling in her gobsmacked expression at being denied. "Not with the kids around."
She sashayed after him, hips swinging. "They won't hear us."
Naruto crossed both arms before his chest. "No means no."
Anissa pouted. "Can I least touch you?"
...I'll allow it."
Huffing, she reached out to cling onto him again, but gentler this time, pushing her head into his shoulder. He sighed, bemused by her behavior. She mumbled something else just then; three little words spoken so quickly -so softly- he almost didn't hear them with her lips muffled into his costume. Why, it almost sounded like...
His eyes widened ever so slightly.
This time, he made no effort to escape.
With that, the two stepped back inside, leaving the cool starlight behind.
The heavy door swung shut, and in the darkness above, the wind carried on, indifferent and free.
Neither of them noticed the faint streak of light far in the sky, growing brighter by the second – not yet.
(.0.0.0.)
Pride and fear made for a heady combination.
Nolan Grayson was currently experiencing both as he stood in the backyard of his suburban home, arms folded, watching his son with a practiced, encouraging smile. Night had long since fallen once more, and the quiet chirp of crickets underscored the hush of the neighborhood. Under the cone of a single porch light, Mark was attempting to hover a few feet off the ground. The teenage boy's face was scrunched in concentration, tongue peeking out one corner of his mouth as he focused.
"Easy does it," Nolan called softly. "Remember, control comes from the core. Feel the push, don't force it." Outwardly, his tone was patient and warm – the perfect picture of a proud father coaching his son. "Careful, now...
Mark wobbled in the air, his sneakers a foot above the grass. He grinned widely.
"I think I've got it—" he began, but the moment of balance broke. With a yelp, he tipped sideways. Nolan blurred forward and caught his son under the arms just before the boy could face-plant into the lawn.
Mark laughed breathlessly as his feet found ground. "Heh, maybe not quite got it." He looked up at his father, eyes shining with excitement even in failure. "But did you see that? I was floating, Dad!"
Nolan chuckled, releasing him. "I saw. Not bad for your first night." He gave Mark an affectionate clap on the shoulder. "You're doing great, son."
Inside, Nolan's heart squeezed painfully. Mark's enthusiasm was infectious and devastating all at once.
He has no idea what's ahead of him, Nolan thought, the proud smile on his face never faltering. No idea what being like me truly means…
"That felt so cool," Mark went on, animated. He was practically bouncing on his heels. "I mean, I actually flew! Kinda. A little wobbly, but still!" He paused, tilting his head curiously. "How old were you when you first flew?"
Nolan forced himself to focus. "Me? Oh, much younger," he said with a light laugh. "Viltrumite kids usually start displaying powers even before adolescence. You, ah, took a little longer." Nowhere near as long as he would have liked. He ruffled Mark's hair. "But that's perfectly fine. Everyone develops at their own pace."
Mark nodded, accepting his words with the implicit trust only a child could possess. He gazed upward at the starry sky. "I can't wait to actually soar through the clouds like you do." His voice turned a bit wistful. "To really join you out there."
Nolan felt something twist in his gut again.
Join him… If only it could be that simple. He pictured Mark flying at his side as a true Viltrumite, father and son conquering the skies. A dream he'd once nurtured. But now—after living on Earth for so long, after coming to love this planet and its people—he realized with a quiet dread that Mark's journey would not be one of simple joy.
If he joins me in what I truly am… I will lead him into horror.
Treasonous thoughts. Weakness. Sentiment.
The Grand Regent would not approve.
Pushing those disturbing thoughts aside, Nolan kept his expression bright. "You'll be soaring in no time," he said confidently. "We'll practice a bit every day. Before you know it, you'll be faster than sound." He mimed a jet shooting off, eliciting a grin from Mark.
They walked back toward the porch together. The night air was cool, smelling of dew and the faint smoke from a barbecue somewhere down the street. Mark was rambling happily about how he'd shown up Todd (a school bully) earlier that day, accidentally throwing a baseball into orbit when his strength manifested. Nolan responded where appropriate—chuckling at the right moments, offering a mild scold that Mark should be careful with his strength around normal people—but his mind was only half on the conversation.
In truth, Nolan's thoughts were drifting, heavy with worry. He had dreaded this day for years: the day Mark's Viltrumite powers would awaken. He remembered telling himself maybe it won't happen. Maybe Mark would be ordinary, human, and spared the burden Nolan himself carried. A foolish hope, as it turned out. The reality was undeniable now—Mark was one of his people, gifted with the same abilities.
And that meant…
Nolan's gaze slipped past Mark to the silhouette of their house, where inside the warm glow of the kitchen window he could see his wife, Debbie, washing up dishes. She glanced outside and offered them a wave. Nolan waved back, still smiling. Debbie's love, Mark's trust – he had them both, for now. But he knew with a crushing certainty that these days were numbered.
Once Mark is fully trained… once he's strong…
"Dad? You okay?"
Mark's voice broke through Nolan's reverie. The boy was looking at him, brow furrowed in concern.
Nolan realized he had fallen silent, staring off. He summoned another reassuring smile. "I'm fine, son. Just…thinking about how proud I am." He reached out and squeezed Mark's shoulder. "Today is a big day. You're becoming who you were meant to be."
Mark's face lit up with pride at the praise. He placed his own hand atop his father's. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot." He hesitated, then asked quietly, "Is Mom okay? I mean…with me having powers now?"
Nolan glanced again at Debbie's figure in the window. She had paused in her chores, drying her hands with a towel as she watched them. She looked happy, if a little apprehensive—Nolan could imagine her worry for their son's safety. An earth custom.
Viltrumite mothers were nowhere near so...soft with their spawn.
At length, he nodded. "She's okay. You know your mother, she'll worry no matter what." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "She made me promise not to drop you from too high up during training."
Mark laughed. "Oh god. You dropped me once and she'll never let it go."
Nolan chuckled, but inside he winced. Earlier that evening, when Mark had begged to start training right away, Nolan had agreed – and perhaps he'd been too rough. In a moment of enthusiasm (and testing Mark's resilience), he had thrown Mark a bit higher than intended. Mark had panicked and tumbled, and Nolan caught him, but Debbie had run out shouting up a storm. Nolan had apologized profusely, chiding himself. He was used to training Viltrumite youths in the old ways—sink or swim, tough love.
But Mark was…different. Half human, raised with tenderness. Nolan had to remind himself to be gentle.
They stepped onto the back porch. Through the screen door, Debbie's voice called, "How's it going out there, Flyboy?"
Mark grinned and called back, "I'm getting the hang of it!" He looked at Nolan with youthful determination. "One more try, Dad? I think I can hover longer now." His eyes pleaded for another round. "Pleeeaaase~?"
Nolan opened his mouth to respond, but Debbie interjected firmly, "It's almost midnight, you two! School tomorrow for Mark, work for both of us—let's wrap it up, please."
Mark groaned theatrically, but Nolan found himself oddly relieved. "Your mom's right," he said. "We've done enough for tonight." He patted Mark's back. "Go on inside. I'll be right there."
Mark gave a good-natured shrug. "Alright. Thanks for the lesson, Dad." He paused, then stepped forward and, rather awkwardly, gave Nolan a quick hug. Nolan blinked, surprised, before returning it. His son's arms around him felt both wonderful and heartbreaking.
"I love you," Mark said quietly.
For a second, Nolan couldn't speak. He simply held his boy a little tighter. "I—I love you too, son," he managed, voice thick. "I always will. No matter what happens."
Liar.
Mark pulled back, smiling bright enough to melt the darkness, then headed inside, sliding the screen door open. "Don't stay out too long," he tossed back to Nolan. Then he disappeared into the house with a bounce in his step, already babbling to Debbie about how he hovered three feet high.
The door closed, and Nolan was left alone on the porch, the night pressing in. His smile fell away like a mask. In the silence, he could hear his own heartbeat. He turned his face up to the stars that speckled the sky above. How many worlds had he seen under those stars, conquered in the name of Viltrum? Countless. And soon Earth would join them—if not by his hand, then by others. If not willingly, then by force. Mark's powers awakening only heralded that the time was fast approaching.
Nolan clenched the wooden porch railing. The cedar board cracked under the pressure of his superhuman grip, splinters digging into his palm. Despair coiled in his chest like a living thing, a hissing serpent poised to strike and bit down, sinking its venomous fangs into all he held dear.
He doesn't deserve this, Nolan thought, anguish washing through him. My boy…
Mark was good, and kind, and so trusting. Nolan felt sick with guilt at the thought of shattering that innocence. Whether by revealing his own bloody intentions or by refusing and incurring Viltrum's wrath, Mark would be hurt. Either path was a torment: make his son into a conqueror, or watch his son become his enemy.
He released the railing and stared at his unmarked hand. He remembered when these hands massacred entire civilizations, how he justified it as a necessary step for the good of the galaxy. He recalled the compromises he had made since coming to Earth, all the blood and horror—and how he'd kept it secret, coming home that night to kiss his wife with blood still crusted under his nails. All this he did to pave the way for Mark's future rule, subtly weakening Earth's defenses, all while Cecil and the GDA remained none the wiser.
Nothing overt, nothing like ambushing and slaughtering the Guardians of the Globe -though he contemplated the act many times- but soon he would be forced to act.
And now… I'd undo it all if I could. Nolan closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. If I could spare Mark what's coming…
Through the kitchen window, he could see Mark excitedly demonstrating some air-punch move to his mother, who laughed and ducked away from the playful swing. They looked so happy. Nolan felt moisture at the corners of his eyes and quickly wiped it away. Viltrumites did not cry—certainly not Nolan Grayson, seasoned warrior. But in this moment, he felt the sting of tears he refused to shed.
He forced himself to breathe slowly. In and out. Inhale and exhale. He had to stay in control, for his family's sake.
I still have time, he told himself, trying to quell the panic. Mark's training would take months at least, if not years. He was just a boy. The Viltrum Empire wasn't breathing down his neck yet—though Anissa's presence on Earth was a reminder that he was being monitored due in no small part to his own actions.
And…there was Naruto Uzumaki and his bizarre family. They complicated everything, but perhaps…perhaps they also offered a sliver of hope? Naruto was stronger than any being Nolan had ever met. If—when—the time came, could Naruto protect Mark? The very notion of needing protection from his own people made Nolan feel both hopeful and ashamed.
Or could he be turned? The man would do anything for his family. Anything...
Would he kill the Guardians of the Globe? He wasn't on good terms with them these days, barely so with War Woman.
More thoughts. More plans. None of which brought him relief.
He let out a long sigh and gazed upward once more. Somewhere out there, beyond the stars, his homeworld Viltrum hung silent, its empire spanning galaxies. Once, Nolan had been steadfast in his duty to that empire. Now, the thought of Mark being dragged into that millennia-old war of conquest made him feel hollow.
What future awaits you, my son? he thought sorrowfully. Is it one where I am your enemy? Or one where I've damned you to be like me?
There was also a third possibility; one he hadn't dared to consider...
...no. He was no traitor.
Neither answer satisfied the gnawing worry in his soul. Nolan realized he was trembling—a microscopic tremor no human eye could detect. He steadied himself and drew up to his full height, assuming the image of strength once more. Taking one last look at the peaceful neighborhood around him, he mustered a determined expression and turned toward the door. Whatever inner turmoil plagued him, he would not let it touch Mark or Debbie tonight. Tonight was a night for celebration, for a boy's dreams coming true. He would not tarnish it with his fears.
As he opened the screen door, Nolan cast one final glance at the sky—and froze at what he beheld there.
A streak of light flared above, high in the atmosphere, bright and fast. For an instant, he thought it a meteor. But his keen Viltrumite vision honed in on the object, sharpening the distant image against the starry backdrop. His blood ran cold. That was no meteor. It was a figure, wreathed in fire from atmospheric entry, rocketing toward Earth's surface with purpose.
Nolan's throat went dry. Only a true Viltrumite could descend at such speed and survive unaided.
And there was only one Viltrumite he knew who favored that dramatic comet-like entrance.
"Thula…" he whispered, heart pounding anew.
(.0.0.0.)
High above the Earth, the night sky blazed fiery tears as a burning object tore through the upper atmosphere.
What looked to human eyes like a shooting star was in truth a lone warrior making her descent.
Thula felt the familiar searing heat licking at her as she breached the atmosphere, a corona of flame encasing her body. It would have incinerated any spacecraft – but to a Viltrumite, it was merely a warm welcome. Her lips curved in a small smile as she plummeted toward the blue planet below.
She had traveled far and fast to get here once she'd received Nolan's message. The Viltrum Empire did not tolerate delays or failures, and Nolan's prolonged mission on Earth had raised eyebrows among their ranks. When communications grew spotty and Anissa's reports abruptly ceased, the empire decided to send a reminder of their reach.
Thula had volunteered.
Any excuse to put that upstart Anissa in her place, she thought with a touch of malice.
And if Nolan Grayson had gone soft, well… she would handle that too.
She was no Conquest, no battering ram to bring worlds low.
Hers was a more surgical touch.
She was a knife.
As the first wisps of cloud shredded around her, Thula adjusted her trajectory with a subtle shift of her shoulders, quietly reveling in the warmth. This was her favorite part. The descent; that brief moment of freedom when she fist came to a new world and made herself known. The ground rushed up to meet her: a sleeping continent, lights of cities sparkling in the darkness. She narrowed her eyes, scanning rapidly. Her mission was twofold—find Anissa and Nolan, assess the situation, and enforce Viltrum's will as needed.
Thula's heart thumped with adrenaline and anticipation. It had been too long since she stretched her muscles on a proper mission. Rumors had reached her ears of unusual happenings on Earth—whispers of some powerful alien influencing Nolan, of battles against foes not of this world. She dismissed most as exaggeration. Still, she remained wary. Never underestimate a backwater planet, she reminded herself, recalling worlds where resistance had surprised them.
Breaking the sound barrier with an explosive crack, Thula angled toward a densely populated area rimmed by mountains and sea—California, if she recalled Earth's geography from Nolan's old reports. It was night there, but she could easily spot landmarks from high altitude. Her enhanced eyes caught the glint of a large dome structure that matched the description of the Global Defense Agency's West Coast facility. If Nolan was dealing with any trouble, the GDA would likely know.
She decided on a dramatic entrance—fear was merely another tool in her arsenal, after all, albeit a useful one.
Her mind made up, Thula accelerated, becoming a brilliant comet of fire and lightning. Below, late-night onlookers in the city of San Francisco would gasp at the sudden streak across the sky, some reaching for phones to record what they thought was a meteor. The air around her howled; a sonic boom rippled out in her wake, rattling windows for miles.
Moments later, she slammed down from the heavens onto the front lawn of the GDA complex. The impact was earth-shaking – literally – a thunderous boom that cracked pavement and sent a plume of dust and soil erupting upward. The shockwave shuddered through the building. Car alarms blared in the distance as Thula straightened from her three-point landing, brushing bits of concrete from her knee.
She stood tall in the settling dust, her Viltrumite uniform practically untouched by the fiery descent. She tilted her head, allowing her long braid to uncoil from the back of her head, bestowed with her favored hunting knife at the end. With a slow, deliberate motion, Thula slid off the breathing apparatus she'd used for high-altitude travel and clipped it to her belt. From there, she took her first breath of Earth's air and subsequently sneered.
Thin… weak… but breathable.
Alarms began to wail within the facility, red lights flashing. Thula's keen hearing picked up shouted orders and frantic activity from inside. Soldiers—human security—were scrambling. She almost felt pity. What did they think they could do to her?
The front floodlights burst on, bathing her in harsh white.
Thula raised a hand to shield her eyes, more annoyed than blinded.
A muffled voice boomed through a loudspeaker: "This is a secured facility! Identify yourself!"
In response, Thula planted her feet, crossed both arms before her chest and let out a booming voice of her own, loud enough to rattle the glass in the guard booths: "I am Thula of Viltrum!" Her words echoed across the courtyard. With a single powerful stride, she loosened her limbs as she approached the fortified main entrance.
Under her breath she added, "And you're in my way."
A squad of GDA security personnel in tactical armor poured out from a side door, energy rifles raised uncertainly. They fanned out, trying to surround her.
Thula's lip curled in disdain. She didn't break stride. One particularly bold agent fired a warning shot – a bright blue plasma bolt – that splashed against Thula's chest and dissipated, singing the fabric but leaving her unharmed.
Thula arched an eyebrow. "Warned you," she muttered.
In a blink, she lunged. A single snap-kick sent the nearest armored truck flipping end over end like a toy, crashing into the parking lot. The men opened fire in a panicked volley; dozens of energy blasts converged on Thula. She moved through them like a specter, the bolts hardly slowing her. With precise, efficient strikes, she tore the weapons from their hands and sent the soldiers scattering with bruises and broken pride. She was careful not to kill; Emperor Thragg's orders were to minimize needless casualties—a dead planet was worth nothing—but a few cracked ribs would send the message.
Within seconds, the squad lay disarmed and groaning on the ground. Thula stepped over them and grasped the thick steel door of the main entrance. With a screech of tearing metal, she ripped it off its hinges and tossed it aside.
Inside the lobby, more agents stared, stunned by the sight of this lone woman breaching their defenses with contemptuous ease. Thula's bright eyes swept the room until they locked onto a figure in a suit at the back, flanked by a few superhero-types who must have rushed to respond to the alarm. The suited man – balding, with a distinctive eyepatch – was barking into a communicator but fell silent as Thula casually flung aside what remained of the door.
She strode forward, boots clicking on the tile now littered with debris. "Director Cecil Stedman, I presume," Thula said, recalling the name of the GDA's head on Earth. She smirked at the astonishment on the man's face. "Take me to Nolan Grayson. Now."
Behind Cecil, two heroes stepped protectively forward – one, a towering bearded man in gold and blue (the Immortal, if she remembered correctly from intelligence briefings) and the other, a dark-clad woman wielding a rather impreissive mace (likely War Woman). Of the other defenders, she saw no sign.
Were they hiding? Or had she simply arrived before them? No matter...
Cecil held up a hand to stop them from attacking outright. His single eye narrowed at Thula. "Thula, is it? Omni-Man didn't say he was expecting company."
Thula let out a short, humorless laugh. "Omni-Man? Is that what he calls himself? He doesn't know I'm here… yet." She cocked her head. "If he were doing his duty, I wouldn't need to be here." Her tone sharpened like the blade she wielded. "You have something – or someone – interfering with Viltrum's plans. Reports of multi-dimensional interference, unsanctioned genetic experiments… It ends tonight." She took another step, and Immortal shifted, muscles tensed.
Thula barely spared him a glance. "Stand aside, little heroes. My quarrel isn't with you, unless you make it so."
Cecil's voice was calm, but a vein in his temple pulsed. "You come into my house and start making demands… You're a guest on this planet, ma'am. Maybe cool off and we can—"
Arrogance without strength requires correction.
In a blur of motion, Thula closed the distance and seized Cecil by the throat. Gasps echoed as War Woman raised her mace and Immortal moved to intervene, but Thula's next words halted everyone. "Don't." She held Cecil aloft effortlessly; he gagged, feet dangling. "I did not come for diplomacy. I came for results. Now…" She lowered him slightly so he could speak, though her grip remained iron. "Where is Nolan Grayson?"
Cecil coughed, wincing at the pressure around his neck. Yet despite the precarious position, he mustered a gravelly retort. "You think… I'll just tell you?" he rasped. "Go to hell, lady."
Thula sighed, almost disappointed. Humans could be admirably stubborn. A pity, really; if this one weren't so old he might've made a suitable mate.
"Wrong answer." She drew back her free hand, clenched in a fist. "If you have any last words, I will hear them now.
Cecil grunted and raised his right hand, middle finger jabbing upward.
Thula blinked. "I do not understand that gesture."
"Then how about this one?"
She didn't see the device in his left hand until it was too late; a trigger of some sort bearing a big orange button.
Cecil slammed his thumb down on it.
.
..
...nothing happened.
No fiery explosion, no piercing pain, not even a sound, really.
"Really?" Thula eyed the ineffective device with mild scorn. "What was that supposed to accomplish? Did that button even serve a purpose?"
Belatedly, she noticed the Immortal and War Woman stepping back.
"Funny you should ask," Cecil granted her a death's head grin, and despite her choking him out, somehow managed to lean down enough to glower at her, alarming her with his feral smile. "Its got a fancy name and all, but the techs in R have taken to calling it the Ramen button. You just made me push it."
His forehead pressed against hers.
"You shouldn't have done that."
"Wha-
She was still speaking when a rush of wind and a blur of gold interposed between her and Cecil.
Without hesitation, she moved to end his life.
Imagine her surprise then, when she found her powerful punch caught mid-swing by a powerful hand wreathed in golden light. Five firm fingers squeezed down on the hand holding Cecil, forcing her fingers open with a painful pop, letting the director drop to the floor gasping. In the same instant, clenched knuckles barreled into her face, denting her cheek to fling her away in a heap.
Thula recovered quickly, vaulting to her feet intent on finishing what she'd started, only to find her path blocked.
Nolan Grayson—Omni-Man—hovered there, blocking her path, his face a mix of anger and worry. Behind him, Naruto Uzumaki stood with his own fists raised, golden chakra cloaking him in an eerie aura, ready to back Nolan up if needed.
Well, well, well. seemed the cavalry had arrived.
Thula's eyes flickered in recognition and surprise. Nolan's arrival she expected, but the blond man at his side radiated an intimidating power that set her instincts on edge.
So the rumors of a new player on Earth were true.
Curious.
She turned her back on Cecil, Immortal and War Woman swiftly pulled him back to safety, but she cared not; she'd already squared off against the interlopers floating to eye-level with Nolan and Naruto. A slow smile spread across her face, equal parts challenge and delight.
"Omni-Man," she greeted, voice dripping with sarcasm as she used his Earth moniker. "I was just looking for you." Her gaze slid to Naruto. "And you must be the infamous Naruto Uzumaki. I've heard interesting things about you."
On a whim, she looked about.
"I suppose you're the reason for Anissa's absence?" when neither answered her, she smirked. "Dead, then, is she? Good. I hope it hurt."
Oddly enough, they didn't rise to her bait.
Curious.
Lazily, she tossed her head, whipping up her braid behind her; the blade at the end struck the floor, kicking up sparks behind her. "I suppose we're going to fight, then?"
Naruto's golden eyes narrowed, yet he held his stance, silent and formidable.
Ultimately it was Nolan who hovered protectively a half-step ahead of him, fists clenched. "Thula, stand down," Nolan warned, trying to sound authoritative, though Thula noticed the slight tremor in his tone as he held out a hand to her. "This isn't necessary. We can talk."
Thula cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Talk? Now you want to talk? You've had years to talk to us, Nolan. Instead, you hide out here playing house and…" she gestured vaguely at Naruto, "fraternizing with cosmic strays. The Empire is done waiting." She cracked her knuckles, the sound like gunshots in the tense lobby. "But by all means, if you want to explain to the Great Thragg why Earth isn't under control yet, I'll listen."
Nolan's face darkened at the mention of Emperor Thragg. He opened his mouth to reply, only for this "Uzumaki" to step forward, shouldering his way past him to speak. His voice was calm but firm, rather pleasant to listen to. "You don't seem to understand...this world isn't under anyone's control," he delivered each word word deliberately, his sentence measured. "And it's going to stay that way."
He looked strong.
Ah. She could see now why Anissa had trouble with this one. He must've killed her.
Surely she'd been arrogant; and that arrogance had led to her demise. She would not fall into the same trap.
Thula arched an eyebrow, regarding Naruto with cold, clinical interest. The air between the three of them crackled with impending conflict. Behind them, alarms blared and frightened GDA agents tended to the injured, watching the stand-off in awe. Far above, the night sky swirled with dissipating smoke from Thula's entry. The stage was set – new allies and old loyalties colliding under the harsh fluorescent lights. Multiple worlds, multiple lives, all converging on this moment.
Thula could practically smell the turmoil in the air, and it thrilled her.
"Bold words," she said softly, her fists clenching eagerly. "Let's see if you can back them up."
She launched herself at Naruto.
A/N: For reference, we're sticking with the young version of Thula from the comics, not that crude caricature we got in the show.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter~! Next update will be April 10th!
Remember, we're now committing to bi-weekly updates for both Apples and Atoms and Vanguard. We made an exception on Monday, but starting Thursday (today) its every other week. In short, Vanguard will be updated next Thursday, (April 3rd) followed by Apples the Thursday the week after, so on and so forth.
What chaos awaits? Who will live? Who will die?! Feedback is important!
Well? What say you? Do you want this to remain a story? Yes? No? Maybe so? Make yourselves heard! Really need to hear from you, here.
So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them, I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly? Hope you enjoy the previews below, can't spoil too much.
Don't mind the X symbols, the site doesn't like scene breaks down here.
We've got some new ones and some are...intense.
They've been expanded and then some!
Read at your own risk:
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
SPOILERS AWAIT YOU!
YE BE WARNED!
(Previews)
He caught her fist.
Thula had half a second to balk.
"...woman, if that's the best you can do, this is not going to end well for you."
Bemused blue eyes blinked back at her. Crinkled now as he smiled.
And then, quite suddenly, her world inverted.
Simply put, down became up.
He was waiting for her in the upper atmosphere.
A fist swung back with intent.
She saw stars.
x
"Well?" Cecil quirked a brow at him and gestured to the scene below. "Unless you don't think you can do it."
His eye twitched. "Bold words for someone within punching distance."
"See, now you're resorting to threats. Can you do it or not?"
Naruto passed the bottle off to him.
"Hold my beer."
x
"Hoooooly shit."
"You must be Rex." The man stood before him, idly wiping blood from his hair. "Your boss had good things to say about you...before I popped his skull."
Crapbaskets. That would explain all the blood then, wouldn't it? He looked like he'd gone through a blender; no, that wasn't right, he WAS the blender, and everyone else had been sliced and diced, minced and finced like a fruit smoothie. He could still see the bodies...what was left of them at any rate.
What was that old Drowning Pool song again? Let the Bodies Hit the Floor?
Yeah, that about summed things up here.
The boy raised his hands. "Whoa, whoa! I don't want any trouble."
"No, son." the blond man tutted softly. "No, you do not."
A hand came down on his head, mussing his hair.
"Tell me, how do you feel about adoption...?"
EDIT: Hope this story brightened your day and made things better, even if only a little.
As always, I appreciate any review given. It truly does help me write. Large or small, any feedback is better than nothing at all.
Looking forward to chatting with you all when I get back from work~!
May you have a great day and lots of luck!
Warm regards,
~Nz.