Through the eyes of a Conquerer

Nolan's pov:

I stand at the window of my study, gazing out at the night sky, my thoughts far from the peaceful suburban landscape below.

The stars above hold the truth of my existence - my origins, my purpose, my destiny. Tonight, they seem to mock me with their distant indifference to the conflict raging within.

The boy, Megumi Fushiguro, has complicated matters considerably.

I replay the demonstration in my mind, analyzing every detail with the precision honed through centuries of combat experience.

The way he matched Mark's strength without visible strain. The impossible reflexes that allowed him to track movement at Viltrumite speed.

The durability that shrugged off an explosion that would cripple most enhanced humans.

This was no ordinary power set. No random mutation or scientific accident.

What I witnessed today was something unprecedented in my centuries of life before Earth: a being with physical capabilities approaching those of a Viltrumite.

I move to my desk, where a glass of bourbon sits untouched. The house is quiet - Debbie asleep upstairs, Mark in his room, likely still processing the events of the evening.

My family, unaware of the true nature of my thoughts.

The irony doesn't escape me. For years, I've searched Earth for signs that humans might be compatible with Viltrumite genetics.

Mark's existence proved this compatibility beyond doubt - a half-human, half-Viltrumite hybrid with the full range of our abilities.

But Megumi represents something different, something potentially more significant.

If his abilities are natural - if they represent an evolutionary advancement in human potential - then the implications for Viltrum's plans are profound.

Our numbers have dwindled catastrophically. Once a mighty race that dominated an entire galaxy, we now count fewer than a couple hundred pure-blooded Viltrumites in existence.

The Scourge Virus and our own brutal civil war saw to that. Our conquest of Earth isn't merely about expanding our empire - it's about survival.

About finding compatible breeding stock to rebuild our population.

Mark's existence confirmed Earth's suitability for this purpose. But Megumi... Megumi suggests possibilities I hadn't considered.

If humans are evolving toward Viltrumite-level capabilities naturally, they could produce offspring with our men and women that maintain or even enhance our strengths while potentially eliminating weaknesses.

Selective breeding with the most advanced specimens could accelerate our recovery, perhaps even elevate our species beyond its former glory.

Megumi would be invaluable in such a program. His genetic material, combined with that of our remaining females, could produce a generation of hybrids with extraordinary capabilities.

The thought is coldly practical, befitting a Viltrumite officer tasked with ensuring his species' survival. Yet something in me recoils from it.

I take a sip of bourbon, letting the burn distract me from the uncomfortable direction of my thoughts.

When did I begin having these... hesitations? These moments of doubt that would be considered treason on Viltrum?

I know precisely when. It began with Debbie. With the unexpected depth of connection I formed with this fragile, temporary human woman.

It grew with Mark's birth, watching my son develop - slowly at first, then with the sudden emergence of his heritage.

And now these doubts gnaw at me when I contemplate Megumi's fate in a conquered Earth.

I've seen the boy at my dinner table, engaged him in philosophical discussions, observed his interaction with my son.

There's a quiet intelligence there, a dignity that reminds me of... myself, perhaps, before centuries of following orders hardened me into the perfect Viltrumite weapon.

For a brief, treasonous moment, I allow myself to imagine an alternative. What if I had never received the order to prepare Earth?

What if I had been allowed to live out my cover identity in peace, to watch Debbie age and die naturally, to guide Mark without the shadow of my true mission hanging over us?

I could have waited. Viltrumites live for thousands of years. I could have delayed the conquest until after my human family was gone, sparing them the trauma of betrayal.

Sparing myself the necessity of destroying what I've come to... value.

The admission, even in the privacy of my own thoughts, feels dangerous. Viltrumites do not form attachments. We do not hesitate. We do not question orders.

Yet here I stand, questioning.

And now there's Megumi. Another variable I hadn't anticipated. Another human who has demonstrated qualities worthy of... respect.

Who might, under different circumstances, have been someone I could mentor rather than subjugate.

I drain the bourbon and pour another, a human habit I've adopted that provides momentary distraction from uncomfortable thoughts.

The alcohol doesn't affect me - Viltrumite physiology processes it too efficiently - but the ritual itself has become soothing.

My orders are clear. Prepare Earth for conquest. Eliminate potential resistance. Assess human compatibility for breeding purposes.

I've delayed the first phase - the elimination of this planet's primary defenders, the Guardians of the Globe - longer than I should have already.

Every day of delay increases the risk of discovery, of intervention from the Coalition of Planets, of some unforeseen complication. Like Megumi Fushiguro.

I need to move forward with the plan. The Guardians must be eliminated, and soon. With Earth's primary defense force removed, the transition to Viltrumite control can begin.

Mark will need to be brought fully into the fold, made to understand his heritage and his responsibility to our species.

And Megumi... He will need to be carefully handled. His power makes him too valuable to eliminate, too dangerous to ignore.

Whether he becomes an ally through persuasion or a resource through conquest will depend on his adaptability.

I find myself hoping, against all Viltrumite training, that he chooses alliance. That he recognizes the inevitability of our victory and accepts a place of privilege in the new order.

It would be... preferable to the alternatives.

The thought of forcing him into a breeding program, of reducing someone of his evident capability to a genetic resource, continues to sit uncomfortably with me.

It's the most logical course of action from a purely Viltrumite perspective, but logic has become increasingly difficult to separate from these emotions I've absorbed during my time on Earth.

I move away from the window, pacing the confines of my study. My reflection catches in the glass of a framed photograph - Debbie, Mark, and myself at the beach last summer. The perfect image of a human family. My cover identity made flesh.

Except it's no longer merely a cover. That's the problem.

I pick up the photograph, studying the faces. Debbie's smile, so open and trusting. Mark's adolescent awkwardness, unaware of the heritage flowing through his veins.

And my own face, wearing an expression of contentment that would be unrecognizable to my Viltrumite commanders.

For a moment, looking at this image, I allow myself to imagine a different outcome. One where I reveal the truth to Debbie and Mark, but not as prelude to conquest.

Instead, as a confession, an unburdening. Where I explain my mission but declare my intention to defy it. To protect this world rather than subjugate it.

The fantasy is brief, extinguished by centuries of conditioning and the cold reality of Viltrumite power.

They would simply send another. And another. Until Earth fell. And my family - my human family - would be among the first casualties of my betrayal.

No. There is only one path forward. I must complete my mission. Prepare Earth for Viltrumite occupation. Ensure that Mark embraces his heritage and takes his rightful place in our hierarchy.

And Megumi... I must determine whether he represents an evolutionary advancement or a genetic anomaly.

Whether his abilities can be replicated or are unique to him. Whether he can be persuaded to serve willingly or must be controlled through other means.

The coldly practical part of my mind - the Viltrumite officer who has conquered worlds without hesitation - calculates the most efficient approach. Observe him further. Test the limits of his abilities.

Determine his weaknesses. Assess his psychological profile for vulnerabilities that could be exploited.

If he proves as valuable as I suspect, he would indeed become a primary breeding candidate. Our remaining Viltrumite women would ensure his genetic material is preserved and propagated.

He would father a generation of hybrids that might represent the future of our species.

The fact that such a fate would likely be against his will is... regrettable. But necessary for the survival of my people.

I replace the photograph on the shelf, my decision made. The Guardians will be eliminated within the coming months. Earth's defenses will crumble. The conquest will begin.

Mark will be given the choice to join us willingly, though I have no illusions about his initial reaction.

He's been raised with human values, human attachments. He will resist at first. But he is my son, a Viltrumite by blood. In time, he will understand his place in the natural order.

And the boy... He will be carefully monitored in the coming days.

His relationship with Mark and the Teen Team provides the perfect opportunity to assess his capabilities more thoroughly, to understand the source and limits of his power.

When the time comes, he too will be given a choice. Serve willingly as an ally and genetic contributor to Viltrumite restoration, or serve unwillingly in a more restricted capacity.

His power makes him too valuable to waste, but also too dangerous to allow complete freedom if he opposes us.

I finish my bourbon and set the glass down with finality. My path is clear, despite these uncomfortable human emotions that have infected my thinking.

I am Nolan Grayson to this world, but I am Omni-Man to the universe. A Viltrumite officer with a mission that supersedes all personal considerations.

Earth will fall. The Viltrumite Empire will endure. And those humans worthy of preservation - Mark, Megumi, perhaps a few others - will serve the greater purpose of rebuilding our glorious civilization.

As I prepare to join Debbie in bed, maintaining the charade of the devoted husband for a few months, I push aside the treasonous whisper that suggests I've made the wrong choice. That there might be another way.

There is no other way. There is only the Viltrumite way.

Yet as I climb the stairs, that whisper persists, carrying with it images of Sunday dinners, of Mark's first steps, of Debbie's laughter.

Of philosophical discussions with a reformed delinquent whose intelligence and power have earned my reluctant respect.

I am a soldier. I have my orders. I will complete my mission.

But for the first time in centuries, I find myself wishing those orders had never come.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

So yeah... I thought it was time to show Nolan's perspective.

Though one thing was annoying, constantly calling Megumi, well Megumi. Nolan doesn't really have other names for him, that's why.

Also, do please tell me how you found the chapter, the more interactions I have with you guys the more motivated I am to continue writing more chapters.

So yeah, I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)