Chapter 16: Thanos’ Gift

In the year 2233 of the Cosmic Calendar, Lothar—the youngest adopted son of Thanos, last survivor of the Titan race, and a commander of the Black Order—officially took control of Chitauri Prime with Thanos' approval.

The current Chitauri King, The Other, abandoned his royal dignity and willingly prostrated himself before Lothar, showering him with excessive flattery. Within three short days, tireless Chitauri soldiers erected a grand palace, and the resources dispatched by Thanos—far beyond anything the Chitauri had ever received—stirred them to the core.

They had never known what it was like to enjoy basic resource provisions without constant warfare.

For the first time, they understood the bittersweet truth of the saying: Survival depends on power. The previous Chitauri King had fought relentlessly to develop and strengthen their race, not out of blind ambition, but because Chitauri Prime was impoverished, preventing their species from making significant progress.

The planet's harsh climate, its abysmal geography, and its barren energy reserves had always weighed heavily on the former king. Yes, the Chitauri were cybernetic organisms, but that did not mean they could exist without resources. Even the Eternal Titans could not survive without sustenance, let alone the Chitauri, whose biological composition was far inferior.

For the sake of survival, expansion, and resource acquisition, the previous king had led his people through an era of struggle. Yet, ultimately, his desperate attempt at progress led him to challenge the wrong opponent—Thanos. His failure was absolute, costing him not only his own life but also the fate of his entire race, which The Other handed over to Thanos without hesitation.

…

"Prince Lothar, this is the final batch of supplies on the list," The Other reported eagerly, directing Chitauri soldiers as they unloaded the cargo from the transport ships into the resource storage facility.

Seeing Lothar appear at the entrance, The Other immediately abandoned his checklist and hurried over.

Unlike his usual battle-ready silver armor, Lothar wore a simple black training uniform, its fabric clinging to his sharply defined muscles. Beads of sweat trickled from his forehead, a clear indication that he had just come from an intense training session.

Without a word, Lothar strode past The Other, heading straight for the main transport vessel.

"Prince Lothar—"

"Silence."

Lothar halted and cast a cold, piercing glance over his shoulder. The Other's breath hitched, and whatever he had been about to say was forcibly swallowed. He had no doubt—if he spoke another word, the steel-like tail behind Lothar would pierce through his chest without hesitation.

With the irritating buzzing silenced, Lothar resumed his stride, boarding the flagship of the transport fleet. The Other, determined to remain in Lothar's good graces, quickly followed, barking orders for the surrounding Chitauri soldiers to clear out. None were to stand in Lothar's way.

Lothar noticed all of this but showed no reaction. His expression remained as cold and unreadable as ever—a lesson he had learned from his adoptive father, Thanos. A true ruler must never reveal their emotions easily. A competent leader must not only grant their subordinates rewards but also instill fear. The balance of power lay in the dual forces of mercy and intimidation.

How to master this balance? Thanos had not provided an answer, merely stating that Lothar would have to figure it out on his own. In Thanos' eyes, this was yet another form of training—one that would benefit Lothar in the long run.

After all, even the warmongering daughter of Asgard had led an army to conquer worlds. As Thanos' most favored son, Lothar could not afford to lag behind. Though their domains rarely overlapped, Thanos took pride in his son, believing that Lothar was no less formidable than Hela herself.

…

"Prince Lothar, this…?"

The Other tilted his head, staring up at the massive device before him. It dominated his field of vision, a construct of unknown purpose. Despite his extensive knowledge, he had never encountered a weapon quite like this—something that appeared to be a cannon, yet not quite.

After all, he had never seen a weapon capable of firing an artificial moon.

The device emitted beams of energy that interwove in midair, forming a full, luminous moon. As its ethereal light bathed the transport ship, The Other suddenly sensed an overwhelming surge of energy radiating from Lothar's body—an aura so intense that it sent chills down his spine.

So, it's artificial after all…

Feeling the storm of power surging through him, Lothar opened his eyes. His gaze remained locked on the artificial moon, struggling to suppress the primal, violent instincts that threatened to overwhelm him. Two seconds later, having barely regained control, he reached out and deactivated the device. The artificial moonlight vanished instantly.

It wasn't as effective as a true full moon, but it was still useful. Most importantly, it meant that from now on, Lothar could transform at will, free from external limitations.

This was Thanos' gift to him—a celebration of Lothar's official rise to command. And it was very practical.

"Just a power amplification device," Lothar remarked flatly, his form returning to normal.

The Other was momentarily stunned, then overwhelmed with joy.

Prince Lothar had actually responded to him! That meant he wasn't entirely insignificant in Lothar's eyes—not just some disposable pawn.

"Congratulations, Prince Lothar," The Other said, bowing deeply. Since he lacked the rank to earn Thanos' favor directly, he had fully committed himself to Lothar instead. His words were laced with genuine delight, for Lothar's strength could only bring him greater benefits.

Yet, he had learned his lesson—not to chatter excessively. After his brief congratulations, he fell silent.

"Have the device moved onto my warship," Lothar ordered. "Woz, guide him."

"Understood, Lord Lothar."

A blue, rotund, feline-like figure materialized in a holographic projection before The Other. The robotic cat's wide, innocent eyes and comically round body left The Other momentarily baffled.

Lothar… has such a childish side?

"Woz…?" The Other murmured, glancing down at the mechanical feline.

His mind raced. If aligning himself with Lothar meant indirectly securing Thanos' favor, then currying favor with this peculiar machine—clearly important to Lothar—was also worth considering.

After all… what exactly was this cat?

"The Other, sir," Woz spoke in a polite yet neutral tone, "do you have any questions?"

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