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EmmaCruzader
EmmaCruzader

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Almost Invincible! [SI-OC] 4: The Beginning

4: The Beginning

"Look dad!"

The boy shouted excitedly, running happily around the room, holding a childlike drawing high up with his small hands.

Seated at his desk, a man of enormous physical and athletic build stopped what he was doing to turn toward the little one, and leaning slightly, took the paper he offered him, raising an eyebrow upon seeing its contents.

“And who is this?” he asked, pointing at the crude drawing of a figure dressed in red and white, with a cape billowing behind his back.

The boy rolled his eyes before letting out a small giggle.

"Duh, ¡it’s you!"

¡BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!!! - CRASH!

Mark’s eyes flew open, staring at the ceiling in confusion. After a few seconds, he slowly sat up, his right hand still resting on the broken pieces of his alarm clock.

‘What the hell was that?’ he wondered, bewildered. It was too vivid, more than any kind of dream he had ever had; every detail, every sensation and feeling, was as if he had truly been there.

But it couldn’t be, because his father had disappeared when he was still young, leaving behind a wife and two children to fend for themselves. He barely had any memories of him; hell, he didn’t even remember his face or his voice.

But this dream… recalling it as best he could, made his attention focus on that strange yet familiar face. Where had he seen it? and that drawing at the end…

“Are you ready?” The sudden question interrupted his train of thought.

Looking up, his eyes widened slightly as he saw Nolan dressed in his red and white suit, casually leaning, arms crossed, against the frame of his bedroom door.

Such an image caused something to finally click in his head.

‘They’re coming back,’ he thought, partly relieved and partly very worried.

When he wished for ‘Mark’s’ memories to start coming back, he did so assuming it would be like watching a movie or a Youtube video, with details, of course, but at the same time with him being nothing more than an external spectator. He didn’t believe that anything he saw would affect him, not deeply at least, but this was different. This was nothing at all like sitting on your couch and hitting play with the remote while eating popcorn.

Every instant, no matter how short, felt like him, as if that memory were his and every feeling as well.

He didn’t yet know whether that was a good thing or a bad one, but even if he had an answer it wouldn’t be of much use to him, since he had no way of avoiding it.

No, unless he decided to fuck his own head up, and that was definitely a big no.

So he stopped overthinking it, tossed the blanket that was still covering him aside and stood up, stretching briefly as he answered his father’s question.

“I’m always ready, old man!”

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"Urgh!"

With the air being violently ripped from his lungs, Mark doubled over on himself before being sent flying backward, his body soaring through the air dozens of meters until it crashed down and began skidding across the ground, spinning and spinning out of control.

In his path, trees and rocks were crushed as if they were made of wet cardboard, barely helping him slow down long enough so that he could compose himself and use his flight ability to cancel the inertia of his movement.

He barely kept himself floating for a few seconds before falling to the ground on his hands and feet, blood streaming from his mouth and nose in a gush that formed a small puddle in which his bruised face was reflected.

‘I don’t feel so ready anymore’ he thought, breathing raggedly.

Everything hurt, every part of him without exception, except perhaps his testicles, which Nolan had had the decency not to strike directly.

How he had ended up like this was, truthfully, quite simple. After his visit with Art and the man’s promise that he would have his super suit ready in no time, Nolan went off to continue with his ‘heroic’ work, while Mark had returned home, where he spent the rest of the day trying to improve his connection with the speed force.

It was at night, in the middle of dinner and when his father returned, that Mark decided to take the first step toward what he considered his grand plan to become stronger as quickly as possible.

Asking him to continue training with him just as they had done the day before, even discreetly suggesting, so that his mother wouldn’t suspect anything, that he increase the difficulty even more.

His request had excited Nolan far too much; he could see it in the pride that lit up his eyes at that moment and, being the good space-genocidal bastard that he was, he didn’t even try to persuade him to reconsider. He immediately agreed, telling him that he would train him in the same way a true elite Viltrumite soldier would be trained.

Hearing that sent a chill down Mark’s spine, but even so he clenched his teeth and agreed, knowing that things were not going to be rosy. But he had already steeled himself; without suffering there is no victory, right? So it didn’t matter how torturous it was, he would endure it like a champion.

Or so he thought… but he was wrong.

It wasn’t just about taking a beating like he did on his first day in this world. When Nolan said he would train him the way an elite Viltrumite soldier would be trained, he meant it quite seriously.

Every punch, every kick and elbow strike, everything was done in a way that made his body receive the greatest amount of damage and pain possible. Mark felt as if every bone in his body had been broken at least three times in the few hours they had been training.

And the only reason he was still conscious and not in a hospital bed, half paralyzed, was without a doubt the Speed force.

Oh, his father didn’t know that; instead, he praised him for recovering in record time, lauding his persistence even as he kept hitting him, telling him that of all the Viltrumites he had known, he was without question one of the fastest he had ever seen heal.

He attributed it all to his own physical and mental capabilities, but Mark knew better.

He could feel it; every time he was gravely injured, the speed force inside him throbbed faintly, like some kind of secondary power that activated without him having to think about it, accelerating his recovery to what he theorized was three or four times the normal speed.

Which was incredible, because he already healed absurdly fast to begin with.

The most baffling part of all was that it didn’t seem to drain nearly as much energy as he had expected it to. Honestly, by this point he thought he would already be writhing with hunger, but instead he was only just starting to feel the need to eat something.

Why? Why was fifteen seconds of super speed enough to make his stomach growl as if he hadn’t eaten anything in days, but several hours of training, where his body was constantly recovering from paralyzing injuries, weren’t?

He didn’t understand it and suspected he wouldn’t figure it out anytime soon, but even so he was immensely grateful to have something like that on his side at this moment.

Getting to his feet, he brought a hand to his nose and, with a quick tug and a cracking sound, set it back into place, the spike of pain barely registering in his mind.

Enhanced healing speed or not, it was best not to let his body set broken parts on its own; that only ended up being more painful than doing it himself.

Descending from the sky with his hands behind his back, Nolan looked at the staggering and battered Mark with a frown, concern briefly blooming within him before being crushed by determination.

He couldn’t afford to have doubts now. At last, his son had awakened that spark inherent to every true Viltrumite, proving himself more than worthy of his heritage.

Coddling him would only harm him; a Viltrumite in training was never allowed to stop, not until his broken and bloodied body could barely breathe.

Even so… A short break wouldn’t be bad.

“It’s almost noon already, let’s stop for now and eat something” he said; yes, even the best of Viltrumites still needed food. If this were the empire, Mark would have to hunt his own meals regardless of his injuries, but on Earth there wasn’t a convenient way to indulge in such luxuries, so food made by Debbie would have to suffice.

The offer made Mark, who had already adopted a guarded stance and was ready to throw himself back into the fray, to pause, his stomach choosing that moment to let out a slight growl.

In fact, that seemed like a great idea.

“Sure” he replied, feeling the fatigue weigh down on his shoulders.

It didn’t take them long to find a clearing in good condition, far from the disaster zone that was the area where they had been training.

Sitting in the shade of a large tree, Nolan took out the food Debbie had prepared beforehand for both of them, handing Mark his portion.

“Your flight has improved quite a bit, your balance is much more stable,” he commented, and in response, Mark nodded.

He supposed that being thrown from one side to another without knowing where the ground ends and the sky begins makes you learn fairly quickly how to move three-dimensionally through space, that and the fact that flying was one of the coolest things to focus on.

“On the other hand, your strikes are still a bit weak, but your agility and reflexes have increased quite a lot; you react better and faster,”

Now that was something he couldn’t entirely attribute; once again, the speed force played an important role here, although to explain it one first had to understand how the Viltrumites’ own ability to perceive the world at high speeds worked.

It was something almost automatic, activating and deactivating when faced with situations that required it. In day-to-day life? Unnecessary. Their perception remained within an average range, allowing them to experience what happened around them almost the way a human would.

But then you focused. By concentrating enough, Mark could make everything look like it was in slow motion, process things faster, increase his reflexes whenever and however he wanted; that was the active part.

The automatic part came into play when something fast enough approached him, whether it was dangerous or not. As long as it moved at a certain speed, his synapses would accelerate on their own… only if he was aware it was coming. That is, he had to pick it up, whether by hearing it or seeing it; or in any other way, which is why he called it something almost automatic.

That came with a major flaw: if whatever was approaching him was much faster than all of his senses, then he wouldn’t even notice it until it had already hit him.

And Nolan knew how to exploit that weakness quite well, often throwing blows that seemed slow before moving instantaneously, making him react incorrectly, or moving too fast only to come to a dead stop the very next second, barely giving him the chance to try to dodge or block.

That made concentrating far too difficult, causing his reaction speed to often return to normal on its own, leaving him relying solely on the automatic part of the ability, a part that, as already stated, Nolan bypassed easily.

This is where he cheated. After his visit to Art’s shop, Mark spent the rest of the day focusing solely on trying to activate the Speed force without using the formula. He failed many times and ended up spending a good portion of ‘his’ savings buying food once everything at home ran out.

Needless to say, his mother got quite upset with him over that, but well, he made up for it by buying more, so in the end she forgave him.

The result of his attempts wasn’t much, he barely managed to make the speed force inside him move, and activating it without using the formula required quite a bit of effort, but he did it, and with that came something incredible.

Even without actively using his power, he felt how his way of perceiving the world transformed. It was hard to describe and he could only compare it to changing the definition of a video.

Aside from that, he hadn’t noticed any other changes, at least until today’s training began.

Suddenly, dodging was easier and every time he moved at high speeds he could maneuver better, react faster and with more precision.

The only drawback came when he stopped or slowed down, and all those advantages seemed to diminish significantly.

Which, in a way, made sense, since standing still or moving slowly was the opposite of what the speed force represented. Likewise, the faster he moved, the better he could perform, or so he theorized; he still had to experiment more, of course. His understanding of the Speed force was still in its infancy.

But he could already feel that he was on the right path.

“The training has helped a lot, after every beating you give me I feel like I get much stronger,” he said after a few seconds, so as not to remain silent for too long.

And it wasn’t entirely a lie. While the speed force was giving him some unexpected benefits, it was undeniable that fighting Omni-Man was helping as well.

He supposed this was where Viltrumite physiology came into play. He had only been training with Nolan for two days, if you counted his first day in this world, and he could already feel certain changes, even see them.

The original ‘Mark’ hadn’t exactly been a bodybuilder; he wasn’t overweight, nor was he excessively skinny, but lifting weights clearly hadn’t been his hobby. But now, Mark could flex his arms and see some muscle there; even his abdomen was starting to feel firmer, thank God.

And he still had another six days of this infernal training awaiting him; he wondered what he would look like by then.

He hoped the change would be quite noticeable, because convincing Debbie to let him miss an entire week of classes hadn’t been easy, even with Nolan’s support. But in the end she had agreed when he told her how he needed to get used to and improve his control over his powers, or he might end up accidentally hurting one of his classmates.

“It's natural, listen Mark, we Viltrumites have a capacity for adaptation beyond that of any other species in the universe. Viltrumite DNA is so strong that it can self-repair from almost any damage; this, of course, naturally causes our strength to grow exponentially when faced with high-stress situations like the ones I’ve been putting you through,” Nolan explained, emphasizing that last part.

“Many species can do this to a lesser extent, like humans, for example, but what differentiates us from them is that their bodies have a limit. Their self-healing capacity is slow and not very effective on its own, while over time small injuries accumulate in their bodies and, unlike us, they never manage to heal them completely.”

He continued, and Mark stopped getting lost in his thoughts, giving him his full attention. After all, he was a Viltrumite now, and understanding more about his species, its anatomy, and its biological functioning was extremely important in many ways.

“That is what makes us superior. Yes, humans can adapt to extreme situations over time, but this is still dangerous for them; in the end, whether or not they can survive depends on their physical and mental state. Disease and old age, all those things are walls that limit them, just like all the other species in the universe… with the exception of the Viltrumites,” he said with evident pride. Mark could even hear the faint disdain when he mentioned all the other ‘species’.

“None of those disadvantages apply to us. We are always at our best; old age only strengthens us and diseases cannot weaken us, not even affect us. Our bodies are made to quickly adapt to any kind of environment, feed on any kind of food and breathe any kind of gas, as long as it has a minimal percentage of oxygen, and if necessary, endure entire weeks without doing so,” the more he spoke, the more excited he seemed.

“Injuries that for other species would be totally fatal are nothing more than mere nuisances for us; as long as your heart and brain are not completely destroyed, you will not die. So you don’t have to worry about being hurt, because every time you are, you will come back stronger!” he exclaimed, putting his hand on Mark’s shoulder.

“You truly are 'Invincible' now, son.”

Mark swallowed quietly, returning a smile he didn’t feel.

Being a Viltrumite sounded pretty incredible... until another Viltrumite entered the equation.

Even so, everything his father said gave him a lot to think about; he had no reason to lie to him, and someone who had lived for thousands of years should know his own species’ capabilities quite well.

If it was all true, then his body had far more potential than he had initially believed.

'As long as the brain and heart are not completely destroyed huh...'

Glancing sideways at Nolan, Mark filed this away as something important, because he would undoubtedly use it in the future.

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Six days later, Mark found himself back in Art’s shop.

“How does it feel?” the man asked, and Mark made a few more stretching movements before nodding in satisfaction.

“Like a second skin,” he praised, clenching his fists and adopting a simple pose, looking at himself in the mirror in front of him with a wide smile. Somehow, wearing an ultra-tight suit was far less uncomfortable and far more incredible than he had imagined.

Having muscles again helped too. Now his body was not only in better shape, but he was also taller. It surprised him that the suit didn’t need any adjustments, considering how much he had changed since the day Art had taken his measurements.

The fabric was incredible in that regard, automatically adjusting to his physical build. He wondered what the limit was: how far could it “stretch” before extra fabric would need to be added?

‘Black looks good on me; blue too, and silver definitely highlights my abs.’

He was quite happy with how the changes he had made to the suit’s design translated into reality. For a while he had been worried it wouldn’t look good, but now that he could appreciate it from different angles while wearing it, that doubt vanished.

The best part was definitely the mask area, which, just like in the original design, covered from his neck up to his forehead, leaving only his lower jaw exposed along with his hair. The only major change was around the eyes; instead of those horrible oval lenses, Art had made the area follow the contour of his face, with the eyes covered by a white protective membrane, in pure Batman style.

From the outside you couldn’t see anything, but once he put the mask on nothing hindered his vision, as if his eyes weren’t covered at all.

“Thanks Art; your work is incredible,” he said, turning toward the man with a smile.

In response, Art shrugged.

“Your design did most of the work, I just had to do the manual labor,” before Mark could object to that, Art pointed toward the exit with a warm smile.

“Come on, go and try it out, I know you’re dying to fly with it”

Mark sighed, nodding to him gratefully, knowing that arguing would be pointless. Giving him one last farewell gesture, he lifted off the ground and vanished in a blur, leaving behind only a small gust of air.

“And there he goes, another satisfied customer,” Art thought, taking a swig of the beer he had just opened. Then he turned and looked toward one of the suits on display that he still hadn’t managed to sell. It was a full-body yellow and orange set, with what looked like discs around the shoulders and upper chest, as well as a larger one below the navel that, combined with the suit’s design, almost looked like a boxing championship belt.

Art would admit it hadn’t been his best work, but then again, designing something while drunk isn’t always the best idea.

“Now, I just have to get rid of you”

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BOOM!

“¡WOO-HOO!!!” Mark exclaimed, accelerating and soaring high into the sky, leaving a massive sonic explosion behind him.

He went beyond the clouds, ascending into the atmosphere and floating for a few seconds at the boundary that separates the Earth from the void of space. Then he let himself fall, descending hundreds of meters in an instant.

Halfway down he curled in on himself before snapping straight, and as if his feet were pushing off an invisible surface, his body shot forward, triggering another explosion of air.

BOOM!

Soon his flight carried him back to the city and, with grace and skill, he maneuvered between its tall buildings, taking in sights he had never been able to see before.

He already longed to go farther: to the lush forests, the endless deserts, to stand atop their pyramids, see Niagara Falls, plunge into its waters and even sail through the storms of the seven seas.

He had the whole world in the palm of his hand, and nothing would stop him from enjoying it to the fullest… at least until trouble arrived and the planet suffered the consequences.

The thought wiped the smile from his face, reminding him of the weight he had placed on his shoulders by choosing the side he had chosen. It wasn’t just about protecting humanity; there was much more at stake. Everything that existed on Earth now depended on him winning, because he didn’t know what kind of things the Viltrumite empire would do if it ever managed to conquer this world.

Would they exploit it? Strip its resources until leaving it dry, until burning its forests, polluting its seas and blackening its lands?

The possibility wasn’t small. Viltrumites weren’t exactly the kind type; according to everything he had seen in the series and what he had heard about them, they were undoubtedly more the overexploiting type. With so many worlds under their yoke, worrying about the well-being of a single one that wasn’t their home planet would surely seem insignificant to them.

‘And there goes my good mood,’ he thought, grimacing, but he couldn’t keep dwelling on it, because the very next second the color red completely flooded his vision.

‘Huh?’ he blinked, his perception of time slowing automatically.

In slow motion he watched as a laser beam the size of his torso rushed straight toward his face, barely half a meter away from hitting him head-on.

‘Hmph…’ He rubbed his chin; without moving out of the laser’s path, he leaned to look in the direction it had come from, narrowing his eyes to better make out its source.

‘It’s that guy!’ he exclaimed mentally as he recognized his attacker… more or less. He didn’t actually remember his name, but the design was fairly familiar, especially considering the massive cannon that replaced his left hand.

‘Could it be a coincidence?’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. By giving Art a complete design to work with, he thought he would finish his super suit long before this guy showed up, but somehow he had ended up running into him on the very same day his suit was completed, almost exactly the same way it had happened in the series.

That made him frown, reminding him of a concept he had heard elsewhere, one that explained how certain events and occurrences were always destined to happen one way or another.

‘The Speedforce mentioned something about the fate of the world too, didn’t it?’ At the time he hadn’t paid it much attention, but as he thought back on it, he realized how important it sounded.

If destiny really existed, did that mean that no matter what he did, nothing would change in the end?

‘No, I’ve already changed things; small things, yes, but tangible ones. Besides, it also said that my future was blurry; meaning that even for an all-powerful multiversal cosmic force, the consequences that my existence will bring to this world aren’t entirely set in stone,’ he thought, fairly convinced by his own reasoning.

But just because his future wasn’t set in stone didn’t mean everyone else’s was the same; perhaps being there at that moment and place, to meet him, was undoubtedly that guy’s fate.

‘Tough luck for you, friend.’ Given that this was the case, Mark decided to play his part just this once, not only because he genuinely felt like hitting something after having ruined his own good mood, but also because he wanted to test the durability of his new super suit.

‘Alright, Art, let’s see if your suits really are as ‘indestructible’ as you say they are.’

Clenching his fist, he hurled himself toward the beam of light, which was already less than a meter away from reaching him, and without holding back in the slightest, he struck it.

!!!

Fist and laser beam met head-on; for a fraction of a second there was silence, and then, in the very next instant, the shockwave rapidly spread outward and the energy beam exploded in the air with a deafening roar.

BOOM!

Mark smiled, ignoring the shockwave that ruffled his hair, and looked at his smoking knuckles with satisfaction. His gloves were in perfect condition; the suit had passed the test with flying colors.

Following the first laser, another one fired three seconds later in a different direction, aiming toward a tall building. Mark could see the people inside through its windows, who were already looking at him in astonishment, unaware of the imminent danger they were in.

Without hesitation, he hurled himself forward at full speed. His figure became blurry, as if he had teleported, suddenly appearing in the path of the beam of light once again. And just like the first time, his fist collided with it, but on this occasion it did so from a different angle, since he wasn’t just trying to intercept it.

ZZZIIIUUUMMM!!!

As if the laws of physics had decided to cease to exist, the laser curved abruptly, redirecting itself toward the sky, where it pierced through the clouds before disappearing.

‘Being a Viltrumite is fucking awesome! hahaha’ Mark exclaimed in his mind, laughing internally at the absurdity of what he had just done.

This new life of his might be full of challenges and dangers, but if there was one thing that made it almost all worth it, it was how damn cool it was to have superpowers.

Shaking his head, Mark glanced sideways at the building behind him, making sure it was still intact, with the people inside a bit more frightened than before but still safe.

If he had been one of them in his previous life, he would have already run for the stairs or the elevator to get out of the place as fast as possible; but for some reason none of them did, as if their instinct for self-preservation had gone on sabbatical. Instead, when the shock passed, some pulled out their phones and pointed them at him, while others began to clap and cheer, smiling at him and thanking him.

Mark could only return a half-smile, somewhat bewildered, giving them a quick wave before turning his attention back to the ‘villain’. The guy had already realized that someone was interfering with whatever he was trying to do, and his gaze, hidden behind a helmet with a long red lens, was now fixed on his figure suspended in the sky.

There was no exchange of words; the man aimed his laser cannon directly at him, beginning to charge a powerful third beam of light, and Mark propelled himself forward, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

The beam had barely begun to emerge from the cannon when his fist slammed into it, sending it back the way it came.

¡KABOOM!!!

The resulting explosion enveloped their figures in a thick cloud of smoke, a cloud that Mark’s hand cut through like a knife, stretching out to grab the villain by the neck before he could be sent flying by the shockwave.

“Urgh!” his muffled grunt made Mark raise an eyebrow, surprised that he hadn't passed out. With a quick and simple movement of his free hand, he cleared the smoke surrounding them to get a good look at him.

His entire laser-arm weapon was shattered up to the shoulder, causing second and third-degree burns across most of his now-bare torso. His helmet had also fragmented, tearing away and leaving barely half of his face visible, with a single eye looking at him with a mix of anger and fear.

“Shit! I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to… uh, you know what? you were about to blow a hole in that building full of people, so I guess you deserve it,” Mark apologized with a grimace as he saw his injuries, but then he realized who he was talking to and took it back.

“Rhgf!” he replied, and Mark assumed that was his admission of guilt and that, on top of that, he agreed with his impeccable logic.

Nodding, Mark turned toward the other people at the scene, who turned out to be a group of police officers taking cover behind their patrol cars.

“It’s all yours, guys,” he said, tossing the villain onto the ground in front of them.

The officers exchanged a quick glance before shrugging and holstering their weapons. In a world where heroes were the norm, being helped by one of them when a situation got out of hand was fairly common in their line of work; perhaps the only truly interesting thing about this occasion was seeing a new face.

Even more so when he seemed to be someone quite strong and not the typical kid who would end up dead in an alley over a stupid mistake.

“Thanks for the help… ¿?” one of the officers said, approaching Mark and extending his hand, pausing when he didn’t know what to call him.

Mark smiled, accepting his greeting willingly.

“You can call me Inv-”

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“¿What’s the emergency?!” Immortal asked with a frown as he entered the Guardians of the Globe base, prepared to stop whatever threat had decided to knock on Earth’s doors once again.

That’s how emergency calls were; if it wasn’t a lunatic trying to blow up the moon, it was another one trying to sink all the coasts beneath the sea. All large-scale problems that he and his team had the duty to resolve.

“¿Aren’t you the one who should be telling us that? You’re the last to arrive, we thought it was you who summoned us,” replied the fastest man in the world, his teammate Red Rush, with an evident tone of doubt.

On the other hand, the darkest and most calculating member of the group, Dark Wing, adopted a tenser stance, narrowing his eyes as he noticed Immortal’s confusion at the question.

“¿Me? but I—” Immortal couldn’t finish his words.

Before anyone could react, Red Rush’s body became a blur, just as it did every time he moved; but, unlike those occasions, this time the man didn’t do it of his own will.

SPLASH!!!

With the sound of flesh colliding with flesh and brain matter exploding, Red Rush and Aquarius slammed into each other violently, their bodies bursting into thousands of pieces on the spot.

The rest of the team widened their eyes in horror at that gruesome image, but no one could even begin to process what had just happened, for it did not stop there.

In the blink of an eye, Green Ghost and War Woman met their own end; the former's head went flying through the air, while the latter had her neck snapped without ceremony.

The dry sound of bones breaking was what finally snapped Immortal out of his shock.

But it was too late. Whatever was attacking them was too fast and too strong, and Immortal couldn’t even begin to come up with a way to counterattack when Martian Man and Dark Wing were struck, their lifeless bodies falling at his feet.

Immortal staggered back several steps, a scream of horror choking in his throat. Panic was quickly replaced by rage, a rage that flooded his veins like molten iron.

“Show yourself! Let me see who you are!” he roared with clenched fists, his body trembling with fury, looking around frantically, refusing to be taken by surprise like all the others.

His efforts bore fruit when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure hidden among the shadows.

“YOU!” he shouted as he turned around, his eyes widening as he clearly made out his identity.

The rage that was already flooding him reached a new boiling point in that instant; his teeth ground together and, without hesitation, he lunged forward, determined to make that vile monster pay.

But no matter how furious he was, it changed nothing. The figure dodged his strike with ease and, with a simple and precise movement, drove his fist through his chest, tearing his heart out.

“Bluargh!” Immortal vomited blood and stared in disbelief at the arm piercing his torso, before lifting his gaze and meeting those familiar blue eyes, filled with disdain.

“Y-You… cough! I never liked you” was the last thing he managed to say, for the very next instant his head went flying.

Silence settled in, reigning over the place. With a soft plof, Immortal’s body fell to the ground, and his killer stood imposingly over him, looking down at him with contempt.

“Same here”

Omni-Man replied, crushing the heart in his hand before disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.

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Note:

!!! And so it begins!... unfortunately this is the last chapter I managed to have ready for this month, but next month I hope to bring several more, at least three, which I am already working on.

I know that as a Christmas gift it’s not a big deal, but I hope you liked it.

(By the way, I remembered what I wanted to say in the note of the previous chapter! I am working on a sketch of mark's new suit which I thought about adding in the previous chapter but I think it's better that it would have been in this one, the bad thing is that I haven't managed to finish it hahaha, but I will definitely bring it for you soon)

With that said, I hope you have an awesome day, I have to cook a ton of food for tonight’s party so I’ll say goodbye to you for now! thanks for all the support!

Comments

Oh hey immortal get his heart crush on top of decapitation, wonder what gonna happen to him.

Oceanus Thetitan

Merry Christmas 🎄 🎉

Asura

Tyftc. And Merry Christmas.

Sin Vergil


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