Chapter 3: Becoming a Self-Sufficient Old Farmer

The vast yet gentle energy nourished every cell within Lothar's body, a sensation that he found immensely comfortable. Though not his first experience, the feeling remained just as pleasant. For the young Lothar, soaking in the nutrient bath was second only to learning from his adoptive father, Thanos.

His cells eagerly devoured the energy from the nutrient solution, growing stronger with each absorption. His Saiyan physiology automatically adjusted itself according to the influx of energy—one of the many traits Thanos admired about this race. To him, this constant self-adjustment, along with the Saiyan's adaptability and rapid recovery abilities, was the reason why Lothar's species was naturally suited for battle.

Thanos often wondered how far Lothar could grow once fully cultivated. The Black Order—Corvus Glaive, Proxima Midnight, Ebony Maw, and Cull Obsidian—were all formidable warriors in their own right. Each had the ability to independently lead missions across the universe, contributing significantly to Thanos' march toward his grand vision.

Yet, that was their limit.

Thanos could see the ceiling of their potential. His vision, however, required warriors who could surpass the Black Order. The universe was vast—so vast that not even Thanos could fathom how many worlds awaited his salvation. A future warrior capable of surpassing the Black Order was worth nurturing, especially one like Lothar, who had been under Thanos' care since infancy, absorbing both his ideology and combat training. Unlike the outsiders who joined midway, Lothar was different.

He was family.

Time trickled by as Thanos, helmet removed, sat casually in front of the nutrient chamber, waiting for his son's emergence. No matter how busy he was, he always set aside time to converse with Lothar whenever they returned to the Sanctuary. These conversations were opportunities to subtly imprint his philosophy onto the young, impressionable mind.

To Thanos, Lothar was a blank canvas, ready for him to paint.

"Father."

The nutrient chamber door opened, and a dripping Lothar stepped out. The first sight that greeted him was Thanos' solitary figure seated before him.

"This session lasted twice as long as the last one. Lothar, your progress is remarkable—far beyond my expectations." Thanos pulled out a black training suit he had prepared and helped the small limbs into the outfit. His large hand ruffled the damp locks atop Lothar's head, satisfaction and warmth written across his face.

The longer Lothar remained in the chamber, the more energy he absorbed. From barely lasting an hour to now soaking for two full days—this was the progress he'd made over the past year.

"Really?" Lothar's wide eyes sparkled with delight, his red tail wagging behind him. More than anything, he loved hearing Thanos' praise. Each word of approval not only validated his efforts but signified another step closer to avenging his mother against Frieza.

He enjoyed this feeling of steady, incremental progress—a principle Thanos had instilled in him. One must advance step by step, unwavering in their goal, dedicating every ounce of effort toward its realization. Every small improvement, every minor gain, would ultimately form the staircase to the throne of success.

"How fast am I progressing?" Lothar asked, blinking expectantly.

"Faster than light itself." Thanos' gentle smile returned as he clasped the small hand.

Lothar knew exactly how fast light was thanks to his father's teachings. The compliment made him instinctively want to grin, but he quickly remembered another lesson—never let emotions show on the surface. He immediately schooled his features, trying to suppress his joy.

"In front of me, there's no need to hide your feelings. I am your father, not your enemy."

Father and son shared quiet conversations, painting visions of the future.

"Father… what is your dream?"

Lothar had long been curious about this. Over the past three years, he'd heard countless mentions of "Lord Thanos' grand vision" from the Black Order—especially from Ebony Maw, who always began waxing poetic but never finished before veering into flattery.

My dream?

Thanos' smile faded, his expression turning solemn. Lothar's curiosity deepened at the sudden shift, but before the boy could dwell on it, Thanos lifted him onto his broad shoulder and strode out of the Sanctuary to its edge.

The black expanse of space unfolded before them, dotted with countless brilliant stars—a breathtaking tapestry reflected in Lothar's wide eyes.

"Do you see those stars, Lothar?" Thanos raised his right hand, pointing at the brightest star on the horizon.

Lothar nodded silently.

"The universe is filled with countless worlds, each as beautiful as those stars. They provide life and resources, but resources are finite, while life continues to multiply without end. The more life expands, the faster resources deplete. My dream... is to give dying worlds a second chance through absolute balance."

By eliminating half of a planet's population, the remaining inhabitants could thrive with the preserved resources—harsh yet necessary. It was a belief forged in the ruins of Titan, his homeworld, whose once-prosperous civilization fell to resource scarcity.

Many saw the problem, but none acted. Thanos alone carried the burden of salvation, unwavering in his resolve.

"What will you do after achieving your dream, Father?" Lothar asked, wrapping his small arms around Thanos' chin.

"After?" Thanos chuckled softly, gazing at the boundless stars.

Perhaps... he would retire to some quiet, forgotten world. He'd become a self-sufficient old farmer—tending to fields, washing fruits in rivers, watching sunsets from the porch of a simple home.

A life of battle behind him, enjoying a peaceful twilight.

The dreams of a warrior, born from a broken world.

-----------------------

Want to read ahead of schedule?

Join here for advance chapters: PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON