The sky burned in shades of red and black, like an open wound in the fabric of the universe. Ash fell, heavy and lifeless, covering the remnants of a world consumed by chaos. The bodies—broken, crushed, torn open like sacks of meat—were scattered across the charred streets. The buildings, once monuments to progress, were now nothing but bones of concrete and twisted steel, relics of a civilization that never recognized its own decay.
I floated above the destruction, feeling the heat of the flames licking my skin, inhaling the dense air tainted with the fetid stench of charred flesh. The entire world seemed shaped by my will. A grotesque painting, signed with the blood of billions.
The faces of the victims were etched into my mind—expressions of eternal terror before vanishing into the shadows of death. Their wide eyes, their screams turning into silence. The thrill of watching living beings beg for mercy, only to realize that mercy was never an option for me. The pleasure of seeing hope disintegrate into despair, feeling warm blood splatter against my face as I crushed bodies like mere insects.
I laughed.
I laughed because this world never stood a chance. I laughed because the Viltrum Empire wanted me to conquer it, but I decided I'd rather watch it unravel, layer by layer. I laughed because I could.
Then came the darkness.
The pain.
It was the pain that woke me, pulling me from the abyss of my thoughts. It started as a thin needle, then turned into a tidal wave of suffering. My body was a battlefield between searing agony and exhaustion.
I didn't know if time was passing. The pain distorted everything, turning the world into a haze, and I blacked out. When I awoke, the scenery had changed—new faces stood before me, some familiar, others strangers. And the torture resumed, relentless, without compassion.
My vision adjusted slowly, as if each second was a monumental effort. Cold metal encased me, and the cruel white light burned my skin. Shackles suspended me in the air, my hands and feet immobilized as if I were nothing more than a broken piece, a trophy of an empire that thrived on the suffering of others.
I tried to move, but each attempt was torment. My body, marked by cuts, burns, bruises—everything throbbed in pain. Some wounds had been cauterized, others remained open, bleeding, inflamed. The pain robbed me of control, but then—a snap.
Something hot pierced through my ribs.
I screamed, but the sound was drowned out by my own agony. A spear of energy tore through my body, melting flesh and bone. My muscles seized, and the smell of burning flesh mixed with the heavy air.
"Do you think you're a god, Mark Grayson?"
The cold voice sliced through the air like sharp blades. I struggled to focus, but everything was blurry, distorted. A Viltrumite stood before me, looking at me with immense disdain, as if I were the filthiest of creatures.
"You are nothing but a mistake."
Spitting blood, I tried to laugh, but the metallic taste choked me, my throat tightening as the warm liquid trickled from my mouth. I felt my broken teeth, sharp, cutting the inside of my cheeks.
Another Viltrumite appeared—more imposing, older, with a grotesque scar across his jaw.
"Shut up." He punched my face with crushing force.
My head snapped to the side, and something in my skull cracked. The pain spread like fire, consuming my mind.
I tried to laugh again, but the sound came out broken, a suffocated gurgle.
"We conquer worlds, we don't destroy them without reason." The Viltrumite's voice was deep, filled with palpable menace. "You disgrace our blood."
I lifted my head, my smile fractured, my broken teeth dripping blood.
"You hide behind a facade of justice, talking about rebuilding the empire. But in the end, you're just as insane as I am."
The punch came before I could finish, and my vision blacked out for a moment. I heard the sound of my skull shattering, the weight of the blow crushing me. My body felt like it was caving under the immense pressure.
And then, once again, I faded into unconsciousness.
Time passed in a blur, but the pain was constant. Every time I woke up, different faces stared at me—new Viltrumites, some familiar, others unknown, but the torture was always the same. My eyes burned under the merciless light of the room, the shackles dug into my skin, and the strikes and blades continued to tear me apart.
Sometimes, I could hear the words—emotionless, without remorse. But soon, the pain would pull me back into the darkness, and everything would dissolve.
I awoke again, but I didn't know how much time had passed. Something inside me shifted, like a strange presence, a sensation of something crawling beneath my skin. I wanted to scream, to struggle, but I couldn't. The pain still consumed me. I looked down and saw a metallic tube inserted into my navel. It pulsed with a life of its own—something was moving inside it.
"They feed on regenerative flesh."
The distant voice of the man sounded like a cold, empty echo.
"The process will be slow. But don't worry, we'll ensure you remain conscious."
I wanted to scream, but there was no sound. They had sewn my mouth shut while I was unconscious, and now, only pain remained.
Mechanical pincers descended toward my face, piercing my eye sockets. I had no time to process the sensation before I was consumed by it. The world exploded in agony. Something inside me tore, pulled, ripped away. My body convulsed as my vision faded, turning into searing white, and then… nothing.
Silence. Darkness.
When I could see again, something was wrong. I was still perceiving the world, but it felt different—cold, artificial. My eyes were no longer mine. The reflection in a metallic wall confirmed it. My pupils were red.
"Your luck is that there are few of our kind left." A Viltrumite's voice echoed with deadly coldness.
"Thragg ordered us to spare you. But now, you are nothing more than a weapon."
Another Viltrumite approached, his gaze hollow, disdainful.
"You were sent to multiple planets to prepare them for the Empire, but you destroyed them all with your sadism. You killed billions—without reason, without strategy, just for pleasure. You are a mistake… but we can fix that."
He leaned closer to me, the scent of metal and pain invading my senses.
"Your punishment is to live as a slave. The Empire will see everything you see. You will have no privacy, no free will. Now, you belong to us."
They stepped away, leaving me alone in the dark cell. My artificial eyes recorded everything, every detail of my prison, as I tried to close them… but I couldn't.
The Empire was always watching.