Beyond Invincible

Nolan took a deep breath, leaning forward over the building's ledge as the Flaxans below finished constructing the portal. Mark stood beside him, silent, staring at the ground with a neutral expression, his arms crossed and occasionally shifting his weight. Nolan glanced over at him. "It's not easy, you know," he said quietly. 'Having to cope with thousands of years worth of memories.' 

"I know what I did was bad," Nolan continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to understand, your life, Debbie's life..." He paused, swallowing hard. 'My own life.' "They're very important. I'll do anything to keep them safe, even if it means becoming a monster to everyone else." 'It's nothing new.' 

"What I did here, to these people," he went on, his gaze drifting back to the Flaxans. "The same thing will happen on Earth if I become soft. If you don't learn when it's necessary to kill, to permanently put down a threat."

Mark frowned but stayed silent, and Nolan sighed. "But I realized I can't force you to change your mind. You have to learn and grow on your own. All I can do is make sure to train you as much as I can."

Mark's eyes widened in surprise, finally meeting Nolan's. "If you truly want to embody your ideal of heroism," Nolan said, his tone firm but gentle, "first you have to become extremely powerful. It won't happen overnight, but if you promise me you won't complain, ever, then I will do the same and promise to keep my hands as clean as possible."

Mark hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, his voice barely audible. "I promise."

Nolan studied his son for a long moment, searching for any sign of hesitation in his expression. He didn't expect Mark to understand—not yet—but the fact that he was willing to listen was enough for now.

"Good," Nolan finally said, straightening. His gaze flickered back to the Flaxans, watching as the portal hummed to life with a soft, pulsating glow. "But first, let's go back home." His eyes turned to one of the Flaxans as they handed each of them a device. Nolan nodded to Mark and put it on his wrist. "We've been stranded for far longer than I had planned. We can always return here if necessary."

Mark nodded, slipping the device onto his own wrist. "Let's go." he replied with anticipation.

Nolan activated the device on his wrist, and a faint hum filled the air as the portal's energy began to swirl around them. The Flaxans stepped back, their expressions unreadable but their movements cautious. Mark glanced at his father, his jaw tightening as he braced himself for the transition. The last time they'd used a portal, it hadn't gone smoothly, and the memory of being stranded in this alien dimension still lingered in his mind.

The world around them blurred, colors and shapes melting into a chaotic swirl of light and sound. For a moment, Mark felt weightless, untethered from reality. Then, with a sudden jolt, his feet hit solid ground. The air smelled familiar—damp, earthy, and tinged with the faint scent of exhaust. They were back on Earth.

Mark nodded, his chest tightening at the thought of seeing his mom again. It had been months—or at least it felt like months, but it could even be a year. He wasn't entirely sure how long they'd been gone. He glanced at Nolan, who was already walking toward the mouth of the alley. "Dad," Mark called after him, his voice hesitant. "What happens now?"

Nolan paused, turning to look at his son. His expression was calm, but there was a hardness in his eyes that made Mark uneasy. "Now," Nolan said, his voice steady, "we go home and take a shower. Then we get rid of or trim our beards—whatever style you prefer—and finally, we'll eat the food my lovely wife prepares."

Mark stumbled and stared at him with confusion. "Are you kidding me?" he blurted out.

Nolan shoved his wrist, displaying the device, right in front of Mark's face. "You want to know how long we were away?" he said, his tone serious. "Less than a day, but in that dimension, we fought for almost three years. Congratulations, son, you've become a man now."

Mark blinked, his mind struggling to process what Nolan had just said. Less than a day? But it had felt like an eternity. The battles, the training, the endless cycles of fighting and surviving—it had all been compressed into a single day on Earth. He ran a hand through his now-thick beard, the coarse hair serving as a reminder of the time that had passed for him.

Nolan lowered his wrist, his expression softening slightly as he saw the confusion and disbelief on Mark's face. "Time moves differently in the Flaxan dimension," he explained. "It's one of the reasons I chose it for your training. Out there, you could grow stronger without losing precious time here. But now that we're back, it's time to readjust."

Mark shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around it. "So… Mom thinks we've only been gone for a few hours?"

Nolan nodded. "Exactly. And we're going to keep it that way. No need to worry her with the details." He clapped a hand on Mark's shoulder, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up. You look like a caveman."

Mark couldn't help but let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Yeah, well, you don't look much better," he shot back, gesturing to Nolan's own unruly beard and battle-worn suit.

Nolan smirked, a rare glint of humor in his eyes. "Fair enough. But I'm not the only one who's about to face your mom's wrath if we track dirt into the house."

The mention of his mom brought a sudden wave of emotion crashing over Mark. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her until now. The thought of seeing her again, of sitting down at the kitchen table and eating one of her home-cooked meals, made his chest ache with a mix of relief and longing.

As they flew out of the alley and into the familiar streets of their neighborhood, Mark couldn't help but feel like a stranger in his own world. The cars, the streetlights, the people walking their dogs—it all seemed so mundane compared to the destruction he had been surrounded by in the Flaxan dimension. He glanced at Nolan, who was flying with his usual confidence, as if nothing had happened.

"Dad," Mark said quietly, "do you think I'm ready? For whatever comes next?"

Nolan didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes forward, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said, "You've come a long way, my son," he said with pride. "We both have become so much more than what we used to be. I just don't want to take any risks with the Viltrum empire. The Grand Regent... Thragg, he is in a league of his own." 'Even if the truth comes out, will we be able to defeat him together?' He thought grimly.

Mark nodded, his father's words sinking in. He still didn't feel ready. "Right... How are we going to stop forty-nine very angry Viltrumites from enslaving Earth?"

They landed on their lawn, and Nolan turned back to him. "I suppose I haven't been clear about my words. The reason we've been training was the Grand Regent. I know a way to deal with the others in a more... peaceful way, just like you would want."

Mark's eyes widened, a flicker of hope sparkled in his chest. "Peaceful? How?" he asked with skepticism but also curiosity. The idea of avoiding an all-out war with the Viltrumites was almost too good to be true.

Nolan hesitated, his expression growing more serious. He glanced toward the house, where Debbie was working in the kitchen, oblivious to their conversation. "Not here," he said quietly. "Let's talk inside. But keep this between us for now."

Mark nodded, though his mind was going overdrive, trying to process his father's words. What could his father possibly have in mind that would prevent a war with the Viltrumites? And why hadn't he mentioned it before? They walked into the house, the familiarity and ambience was enough to make him tear up.

Debbie looked up as they entered, her face lighting up with a smile. "There you two are! Dinner's almost ready. Go wash up—you both look like you've been through a war zone."

Nolan forced a smile, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "Just a long day at work," he said smoothly. "We'll be right back."

Mark followed his father upstairs while covering his face. When they reached the bathroom, Nolan closed the door behind them and turned to face Mark, his expression grave.

"Listen carefully," Nolan began, looking at himself in the mirror while already working on trimming his beard. "We've been through a lot during our clashes. I trust that what I'm about to say isn't heard by anyone, is that clear?"

Mark cringed under Nolan's glare and nodded. "Got it... If it helps avoid any bloodbath, I'm all ears."

With his confirmation, Nolan continued. "I'm Argall's son, the old emperor of the Viltrumites." Mark's breath hitched. "That's right, I'm the rightful heir to the throne."

Mark stared at his father, his mind reeling. The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, shaking the very foundation of everything he thought he knew. 'Argall's son? The rightful heir to the Viltrumite throne?' It was almost too much to process. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

Nolan watched him carefully, his expression unreadable as he continued trimming his beard in the mirror. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said, his voice low and measured. "But it's the truth. My father, Argall, was the emperor of Viltrum before he was assasinated, before the scourge virus almost wipes out al the Viltrumites."

Mark's mind slowly put the pieces together. "So… you're saying you're the rightful king of the Viltrumites?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nolan nodded, his eyes meeting Mark's in the mirror. "In a sense, yes. But it's not that simple. Thragg has held the throne for centuries, and he's not the type to give it up willingly. He's built the Viltrumite Empire into a war machine, and he's convinced most of our people that his way is the only way."

Mark swallowed hard, his thoughts spinning. "But if you're the rightful heir… doesn't that mean you could challenge him? Take back the throne?"

Nolan turned to face him fully, his expression grim. "It's not that easy. Thragg is the strongest Viltrumite alive. He is so powerful I'm not sure we could take him out even with the help of all the other Viltrumites. It's too risky, and unnecessary."

Mark's fists clenched at his sides, frustration bubbling up inside him. "So what are you saying? We just let him keep ruling? Let him enslave Earth and who knows how many other planets?"

Nolan's gaze hardened as he splashed water onto his face. "No. I'm saying we have to be smart about this. When the time comes, I'll deal with him personally." His eyes shifted down to his bracelet. "Even if it takes me a thousand years."

Mark looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

Nolan met his gaze, his eyes steely. "I have my ways. For now, we focus on what we can control. We keep training, we stay strong, and we prepare for the innevitable."

Mark stared at his father, the weight of his words settling heavily on his shoulders. A thousand years? The idea was almost incomprehensible. To think that his father was willing to play such a long game, to wait centuries for the right moment to strike, was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was a reminder of just how different Viltrumites were from humans—how their sense of time, their patience, and their resolve operated on a scale he could barely grasp.

"But what about Earth?" Mark asked, his voice tight with frustration. "What about Mom? You're talking about waiting centuries, but we don't have that kind of time. That psychopath could decide to invade tomorrow for all we know. What happens then?"

Nolan sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "Son, this is exactly the reason why I don't oppose your mom about sending you to college." He guided him to the door. "Focus on living your life, I'll do the thinking." With those words, he gently closed the door behind Mark.

Mark just remained in the hallway, staring at the closed bathroom door, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Frustration, confusion, and a lingering sense of helplessness churned inside him. His father's words echoed in his head: "Focus on living your life, I'll do the thinking." It was classic Nolan—calm, collected, and infuriatingly dismissive. But this wasn't just about some minor disagreement or a training session gone wrong. This was about the fate of Earth, of his mom, of everything he cared about.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. 'Focus on living my life?' How could he, when the threat of the Viltrumites loomed over them like a storm cloud? How could he just go to college, hang out with friends, and pretend everything was normal when he knew what was coming?

The sound of his mom's voice calling from downstairs pulled him out of his thoughts. "Mark! Nolan! Dinner's ready!"

Mark took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He couldn't let his mom see how shaken he was. He plastered on a smile and headed downstairs, where Debbie was setting the table. The smell of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes filled the air, and for a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

"Finally," Debbie said, shooting them both a playful glare as Nolan emerged from the hallway, freshly shaven and looking as composed as ever. "I was starting to think you two were avoiding me."

"Never," Nolan said with a warm smile, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "Just had to clean up. You know how it is."

Debbie rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Well, sit down before it gets cold." Her eyes landed on Mark's beard. "What happened to you?" Her eyes narrowed and turned toward Nolan. "You two better have a good explanation."

Mark forced a laugh, trying to keep the mood light. "Just a long day, Mom. We got a bit... carried away with training."

Debbie raised an eyebrow. "That explains the dirt." Her face crunched as she sniffed him. "What about the beard?"

Nolan looked at the ground as Debbie stared daggers at Mark. "I'll let Mark explain everything."

Just then, Cecil materialized beside Nolan, looking very disheveled. "I'm afraid that'll have to wait," he said, his voice urgent. "We have a situation."

Debbie's eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to Cecil. "What's going on?"

Cecil glanced at Mark and Nolan, his expression serious. "Nothing alarming, just the possible end of the world if we waste more time."

Debbie's eyes widened, and she looked from Cecil to Nolan, her face pale. "What are you talking about?"

Nolan crossed his arms. "Cecil, what happened?"

Cecil's expression was grim as he adjusted his glasses, the faint glow of his holographic displays reflecting in the lenses. "We've got a problem," he said, his voice low and urgent. "A big one. And it's not the kind we can ignore."

Debbie's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes darting between Cecil and Nolan. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

Nolan stepped forward, his calm demeanor slipping just enough to reveal the tension beneath. "Cecil, spit it out. What's happened?"

Cecil hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking to Debbie before settling on Nolan. "It's Atom Eve," he said finally. "She's… unstable. And if we don't contain her soon, she could level the entire city—maybe worse."

Mark's heart skipped a beat. "Eve? What happened to her?"

Cecil's jaw tightened. "We're not entirely sure. All we know is that she's been compromised. Some kind of device—a collar—has been placed on her, and it's amplifying her powers beyond anything we've ever seen. She's not in control anymore."

Debbie's voice trembled as she spoke. "Is she… is she going to be okay?"

Cecil didn't answer right away, and the silence was enough to make Mark's stomach drop. "We're doing everything we can," Cecil said at last. "But we need to act fast. Nolan, Mark—I need you both on this. Now."

Nolan nodded, his expression hardening. "Understood, We're moving out."

Mark didn't need to be told twice. Eve was his friend—one of his closest friends. The thought of her being in danger, of her powers being used against her will, made his chest tighten with fear and anger.

Debbie reached out, grabbing Nolan's arm as he turned to follow Mark. "Nolan, please… be careful. Both of you."

Nolan paused, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "We will," he said quietly. "I promise."

As Mark threw on a fresh suit and grabbed his communicator, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him. This wasn't just another mission. This was Eve. And if something happened to her…

He shook his head, forcing the thought away. He couldn't afford to think like that. Not now. He had to focus. He had to be ready.

When he came back downstairs, Nolan was waiting by the door. Cecil was gone, presumably to coordinate from the Global Defense Agency's headquarters. Debbie stood in the kitchen, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes filled with worry.

Mark hesitated, then walked over to her. "Mom," he said softly, "we'll be fine. I promise."

Debbie nodded, though her expression didn't change. "Just… come home safe, okay? Both of you."

Mark forced a smile, though it felt hollow. "We will."

As they stepped outside, Nolan turned to him. "Stay close, and do exactly as I say. This isn't a training exercise, Mark. Eve's powers are dangerous, and if she's not in control…" He trailed off, but the implication was clear.

Mark nodded, his jaw tightening. "I know. Let's go."

They took off into the night sky, the city lights blurring beneath them as they raced toward the coordinates Cecil had provided. The wind whipped past Mark's face, but he barely felt it. His mind was focused on one thing: saving Eve.

As they approached the location, the air grew thick with tension. The ground below was a war zone—buildings twisted and shattered, streets torn apart by raw, uncontrolled energy. And at the center of it all was Eve.

She hovered above the wreckage, her body glowing with an intense pink light. The collar around her neck pulsed with the same energy, and her eyes—usually so full of life—were blank and unfocused. Around her, the very fabric of reality seemed to warp and bend.

Nolan landed a safe distance away, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "This is worse than I thought," he muttered. "Mark, stay back. Let me handle this."

Mark shook his head, his fists clenching. "No way. I'm not leaving her."

Nolan turned to him, his expression stern. "This isn't up for debate. Eve's powers are too dangerous right now. If she loses control completely—"

"I don't care!" Mark snapped, his voice cracking with emotion. "She's my friend, Dad. I'm not abandoning her!"

Before Nolan could answer, Eve looked their way, and pink energy rippled through the ground. Nolan grabbed Mark and flew into the air just in time. "Dad... What?" Mark stared in disbelief as the ground turned into a fleshy mess out of a nightmare, lifeless eyes staring back at him from the now meat-made streets and buildings.

Nolan ran a hand through his hair. "That's... new," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. It was all he could say as he let Mark go. "Do you still think you can handle this? Relax, it's not like I'll kill her or anything."

"Are you kidding me?!" Mark's voice was a mix of shock and disbelief. "Why would you say that? Now I'm more..." He shuddered as he stared at the ground. "Worried. Let me help—" He was cut off as a four-legged creature made of flesh and molten metal slammed into him.

Nolan clenched his fist and punched another one just as it was about to hit him. "These things..." The creatures screeched as it slammed into the ground, turning into paste as its form collapsed, though three more were formed in its place. "Eve couldn't have possibly come up with this." His eyes narrowed and he looked around, in the darkness it would be easy to ambush him if he wasn't careful.

Mark struggled to his feet, shaking off the impact of the creature's attack. His suit was scuffed, but he was unharmed—physically, at least. The sight of the grotesque, writhing creatures made his stomach churn. They were like something out of a nightmare, a twisted fusion of flesh and metal that seemed to defy logic.

"Dad!" Mark shouted, dodging another lunging creature. "What are these things?!"

Nolan's eyes scanned the area, his expression grim. "They're constructs," he said, his voice tight. "Eve's powers are being manipulated—twisted. They are making these creatures."

Mark's heart sank. "Who would do something like this?"

Nolan didn't answer right away. Instead, he grabbed one of the creatures mid-leap and tore it in half with a sickening crunch. "Doesn't matter right now," he said, tossing the remains aside. "What matters is stopping this before it gets worse."

Mark nodded, his jaw tightening. He didn't like the idea of fighting Eve, even indirectly, but he knew they didn't have a choice. If they didn't stop her, the entire city—maybe even the world—could be consumed by this nightmare.

As more creatures emerged from the fleshy ground, Mark and Nolan moved in sync, punching, kicking, and crushing the creatures just as they formed. But for every creature they destroyed, two more seemed to take its place. The ground itself was alive, pulsing and shifting as Eve's power continued to warp reality.

Nolan grabbed another creature, its body writhing in his grip. "Show me your heroism!" he shouted, tossing the creature aside. "Go and stop Eve. I'll deal with these things." With those words, he flew through the horde, using the creature in his hands as a makeshift battering ram, smashing through the grotesque masses with a stoic face.

Mark's jaw clenched, his eyes darting between the endless waves of creatures and the distant figure of Eve, who stood at the center. He took a deep breath as he clenched his hands.

"You got it, Dad," His voice trembled. "I'll stop her."

With that, Mark flew towards Eve, his body pushing aside anything that stood in his way. He was pissed, angry, and sad. If he hadn't pushed Eve away, stopped her from following them through the portal, none of this would've happened. "Fuck, fuck, Fuck!" he screamed, his frustration boiling over.

A giant wall of flesh sprang from the ground, countless bodies writhing and reaching out. Mark's eyes narrowed, and he roared, "Get... the fuck... out of my way!" He punched with all of his strength, his fist connecting with the grotesque barrier. The wall exploded, sending chunks of flesh and blood flying in all directions. He wiped his face as blood rained down.

Descending towards Eve, Mark's heart pounded in his chest. He had to reach her, had to stop her before it was too late. The ground beneath him shifted and twisted, but he pressed on, determined to get through. He couldn't lose her, not like this.

Mark landed a few feet away from Eve, the ground squelching unnaturally beneath his boots. The air around her crackled with raw, unstable energy, and her glowing eyes locked onto him with a mix of pain and confusion. The collar around her neck pulsed and trembled as sparks came out of it.

"Eve!" Mark shouted, his voice breaking through the chaos. "It's me! You have to fight this! You're stronger than that thing!"

Eve's hands trembled as she clutched her head, her voice strained and fragmented. "Mark… I… I can't… it's too much… it's hurting me…"

The collar flared again, and Eve let out a scream that sent a shockwave rippling through the air. The ground around them twisted and warped, forming grotesque shapes that reached for Mark like living nightmares. He kicked it away and flew a little higher.

"You can!" Mark yelled, his voice fierce. "You're Atom Eve! Nothing can stop you!"

Eve's glowing eyes flickered, a brief moment of clarity breaking through the haze. "Mark…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Help me…"

Mark's heart ached at the sound of her voice. He flew closer, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Just focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice."

The collar pulsed again, and Eve's expression twisted in agony. Her hand reached forward towards his. "Please, Greyson, Help me..."

Mark froze, his hand hovering in mid-air just as he was about to touch hers. "What?" he stammered, confusion and shock written all over his face. "Since when do you call me like that?"

Eve's hand trembled as it reached for him, her glowing eyes filled with a mix of desperation and something else—something that made Mark's stomach twist. Her voice, strained and fragmented, came again, softer this time. "Greyson… please…"

Mark's heart raced, his mind struggling to process what was happening. Eve had never called him by his last name before. It was always "Mark" or, when she was teasing him, "Invincible." This… this wasn't right. Something was wrong—more wrong than he'd realized.

"Eve," he said slowly, his voice cautious. "What's going on? Why are you calling me that?"

Eve's hand shot forward, grasping his hand with an iron grip. Her eyes were no longer her own, consumed by the malevolent force of the collar. "Die for me!" she screamed, her voice distorted and inhuman.

Mark screamed and yanked his hand away, clutching it close to his chest. "Oh god!" he hissed, his voice a mix of pain and fear. He looked down at his arm, which was halfway turned into gold. "Why!" he trembled, his eyes wide with shock.

In response, Eve raised her hand towards him, her eyes glowing with a fierce intensity as she began to charge energy. The collar around her neck pulsed ominously, and Mark could see the struggle in her eyes. She was fighting against the control it held over her, but it was clear she was losing.

Mark's heart raced as he stared at his partially golden arm, the cold, metallic surface glinting in the eerie pink light of Eve's energy. The pain was sharp and unrelenting, but it was nothing compared to the anguish in his chest. Eve—his friend, his teammate—was being used as a weapon, and he had no idea how to save her without hurting her.

"Eve!" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "You're stronger than this! You can fight it! Please, just—"

Before he could finish, Eve unleashed the energy she had been gathering, a massive beam of pink light surging toward him. Mark barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the beam tore through the air, obliterating everything in its path. The ground bellow was reduced to a smoldering crater, the heat radiating from it intense enough to make his skin prickle.

Mark scrambled to his feet, his golden arm hanging awkwardly at his side. He could feel the weight of it, the unnatural stiffness making it harder to move. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. Eve was already charging another attack, her expression twisted with pain and rage.

"Eve, stop!" he pleaded, flying erratically to avoid another blast. "This isn't you! You're not a killer!"

But Eve didn't respond. Her eyes were blank, her movements mechanical as she continued to attack. The collar around her neck pulsed with each blast, its sinister glow growing brighter with every passing second.

Mark's mind raced as he dodged another beam. He couldn't keep this up forever. Eve's powers were too dangerous, and if he didn't find a way to stop her soon, the entire city—maybe even the world—would be at risk. But how could he fight her without hurting her? How could he save her when she was being controlled by something so powerful?

Then, an idea struck him. It was risky—insanely risky—but it might be the only way.

"Eve!" he shouted, flying closer to her despite the danger. "If you can hear me, I need you to trust me! I'm going to get that collar off you, but I need you to hold still!"

For a moment, Eve hesitated, her glowing eyes flickering as if she were fighting against the collar's control. But then it pulsed again, and her expression hardened. She raised her hand, another blast of energy forming in her palm.

Mark gritted his teeth and flew straight toward her, his golden arm raised defensively. The beam hit him head-on, the force of it slamming into him like a freight train. He screamed in pain, but he didn't stop. He couldn't. He had to reach her.

As he closed the distance, Eve's eyes widened in surprise, the collar's control faltering for just a moment. Mark seized the opportunity, grabbing the collar with his good hand and pulling with all his strength. The metal groaned under the pressure, but it didn't break.

"Come on!" Mark growled, his muscles straining as he fought against the collar's resistance. "Let her go!"

Eve's hands flew to her neck, her fingers clawing at the collar as if she were trying to help him. Her voice was a strained whisper, barely audible over the crackling energy around them. "Mark… please…"

The collar pulsed again, and a shockwave of energy blasted out, throwing Mark backward. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him and the flesh gathering around him, and grabbing his body with desperation. "Let go!" But he felt weaker, that beam had took more out of him than he thought.

As he struggled to free himself, he saw Nolan flying toward them, his expression grim. "We tried your way." His voice resounded in his ears.

Mark's vision blurred as the fleshy tendrils tightened around him, their grip unrelenting. He could feel his strength waning, the golden arm weighing him down like an anchor. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one harder than the last. He thrashed against the grotesque restraints, but they only seemed to tighten in response.

"Dad…" Mark croaked, his voice barely audible over the squelching flesh. "I… I can't…"

Nolan hovered beside him, his expression unreadable. "I know," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made Mark's chest tighten. "But we don't have a choice anymore."

Mark's eyes widened as he realized what his father meant. "No… Dad, wait—"

Before he could finish, Nolan's hand shot forward, gripping the collar around Eve's neck. The metal groaned under the pressure, and Eve's eyes widened in shock and pain as the collar began to crack.

"Dad, stop!" Mark shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "You're hurting her!"

Nolan didn't respond. His jaw was clenched, his eyes focused solely on the collar. With a final, brutal twist, the collar shattered, the pieces falling to the ground as the energy around Eve dissipated. Her glowing eyes faded, returning to their normal green, and she collapsed into Nolan's arms, her body trembling.

Mark stared in stunned silence, his golden arm hanging limply at his side. The fleshy tendrils around him began to dissolve, their grotesque forms melting away into nothingness. He stumbled to his feet, his posture shaking and took a step toward Eve and Nolan.

"Eve…" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Is she…?"

Nolan looked down at Eve. "She's alive," he said quietly. "But she's weak. That collar took a lot out of her."

Mark's eyes trembled as he stumbled closer, his golden arm still heavy and unresponsive. He dropped to his knees beside Eve, his good hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow, but she was alive. That was all that mattered.

"Eve," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry…"

Eve's eyes fluttered open, her green irises dull but still filled with life. She looked up at him, her lips trembling as she tried to speak. "Mark…" she managed, her voice barely audible. "I… I didn't mean to…"

"Shh," Mark interrupted, his hand gently squeezing hers. "It's not your fault. You didn't do this. Someone else did. And we're going to find out who."

Nolan stood nearby, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. He watched the two of them with a mixture of relief and something else—something darker. Mark could feel his father's gaze, but he didn't look up. He couldn't. Not yet.

"Mark," Nolan said finally, his voice low and measured. "We need to move. Cecil will know what to do."

As Nolan carefully lifted Eve into his arms, her head lolled against his chest, her breathing still shallow but steady. Mark took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the ruined landscape around them. The fleshy ground had receded, leaving behind a twisted, warped version of the city. Buildings were half-melted, streets were torn apart, and the air was thick with the stench of decay.

"Let's go," Nolan said, his voice cutting through the silence. "Stay close."

Mark nodded, falling beside his father as they made their way through the wreckage. His mind replayed the events of the past hour along as they flew. He couldn't shake the image of Eve's glowing eyes, the way she had looked at him with such pain and desperation. And then there was the collar—the way it had pulsed with energy, amplifying her powers beyond anything he had ever seen.

"Dad," Mark said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "Who could've done this? Who would've had the technology to control Eve like that?"

Nolan's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he considered the question. "I don't know," he admitted. "But whoever it was, I'm finishing them off. Whether you like it or not."

Mark looked at his father and remained silent for a moment before saying. "We can agree on that one."