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Chapter Text

Weeks had passed since Maskless had been recruited by Angstrom to help him destroy the world of his counterpart from another universe, but boredom had not yet replaced the excitement and anxiety he felt at the mere thought of regaining the part of his soul that had been torn away from him so prematurely: WILLIAM. He was the only one occupying his thoughts. Both in life and since his death, he had never ceased to be a constant in his mind.

Since his death, these thoughts have only intensified, along with his emotions. It can indeed be confirmed that Mark had not fully emerged from the five states of grief after his loss.

 

He was in a rather isolated wing of the ship, where the myriads of distant stars, immersed in the dark and cold void of space, could be observed through a huge window.

He did not want to be among the other variants, especially those who praised the Empire, evidently having accepted his father's offer. The variant he hated most, however, had to be the one that looked like a poor imitation of Omni-Man. Same color pattern, same attitude, extremely similar voice, even the same build, almost. The only thing missing was the famous mustache, and Mark would have mistaken him for the original. And he HATED him.

Everyone else was weird and annoying to him.
He never imagined he could wear a mohawk and be proud of it; I mean, he looked like he'd lost a bet and been FORCED to cut it that way, but he was PROUD OF IT??? The worst part was that he never shut up, all he did was brag about how he'd become the emperor of Viltrum, how he'd turned Earth into his playground, and about his harem. Yeah. Sure. He tried to stay as far away from him as possible, but every time he spoke or bragged, Mark couldn't help but make a face that showed VERY clearly how he felt. He knew if he saw it, an argument would start, but it was a habit he just couldn't shake. He doesn't remember where he got it from, maybe Amber.
He'd never even thought of growing his hair, and yet there it was: a version of himself with long, thick hair, looking like he stepped out of a Pantene commercial, wearing a short-sleeved tracksuit to flex his biceps. It was too obvious that he was a narcisist.

But as much as they annoyed him, none of them beat the variant without the lenses. The guy was crazy. From the way he acted, he looked like a kid who'd eaten an almost illegal amount of sugar. Maybe he was even a masochist, he couldn't figure it out, because every time he talked to the others, it was either to ask them to fight or to rage bait them JUST for the amusement of watching them refrain themselves from strangling him because they knew it would give him satisfaction.

There were some whose only question, looking at them, was "HOW?" and "WHY?". Like, for example, the variant dressed like a flaxan. I mean, seriously. FLAXANS?? How the hell did he become one?

Because of the situation on the ship, he almost never spoke to anyone. At most, he'd answer a few questions, but otherwise, he was alone most of the time.
He thought about when he'd finally be able to hug William again. He knew it wouldn't be his William, but he didn't care. William would have been the same in any universe. Even if he hadn't loved him in this one (which would surely have made him pretty upset), he would have been content simply to be by his side as a friend (thinking it was hurting him more than expected). He could never imagine being friend-zoned by William, but it was a different universe, after all.

On the ship, the only variant he'd spoken to was the prisoner. He couldn't contain his curiosity at seeing all those scars. The other seemed a little annoyed by the question, but he could understand the reason for that curiosity, as he then went on to tell him his story.
He told him briefly about how he'd rebelled against his father, his prison sentence, and his long prison term in Viltrum, where he'd endured torture before he could be executed. At the end it didn't happen, thanks to Angstrom's intervention.
At least there was someone who shared his hatred for his father and the Empire on that damn space ship.

There was one variant, however, that gave him goosebumps. He wore a costume with a cape that reminded him of a wasp because of the yellow and black colours. His face often wore a sinister smile, just like him. He couldn't understand his behavior. He almost seemed predatory from the way he looked at them.
Maskless wanted to stay away from him at all costs.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when an arm slung around his shoulders, startling him. He immediately turned to see who it belonged to, only to be greeted by a smile almost too wide and toothy to belong to a normal person, let alone his sharp canines.

"There you are!" Sinister exclaimed, almost too excited to see him. "You know, we were looking for you, we couldn't find you anywhere, but here you are, all alone, staring out into space." He concluded with a pleased laugh.

"Why were you looking for me?" Maskless asked, trying to push his arm away from him, but Sinister didn't seem to want to oblige.

"Angstrom called us to clarify some parts of the agreement, and he needs everyone there." He replied, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at Mark's face. The smile remained.

"Did they ask you to come look for me? Why didn't Levy send one of his cameras?" Maskless was feeling increasingly uncomfortable, and the fact that they were so close didn't help at all.

"Oh no, they didn't ask me anything. In fact, Angstrom was about to send one, but I offered to come look for you myself." He was staring at him now.

A shiver ran down Mark's spine. "Why did you care so much?"

"See, you're intriguing. You're always alone, staring into space, not caring about anything. You're completely disconnected from your surroundings." He paused. "What are you thinking so intensely about?" His smile faded.

"It's none of your business," Mark spat, starting to get angry. If only he hadn't been disgusted by even touching him, he would have punched him right in that fucking smile of his. He pushed himself away from Sinister, finally freeing himself from his arm, heading for the door to join the others, leaving Sinister alone behind him.

 

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Sinister watched him leave without saying anything. "It's none of my business, huh? Aren't we supposed to be the same person?" he whispered to himself.

He knew he was thinking about William. Everyone here was, including him.

He'd talked to the others, wanting to get a feel from his multiversal counterparts before killing them.

He liked to get to know his prey.

Like he had with William. But with him, it was different.

He kept thinking about him. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see him. He was even haunting his dreams now. He couldn't forget him, he doesn't even know why. He just knows he needs him.

This time, he wouldn't make the same mistake. He would keep him alive, he would savor him until his last breath.

And no one could stop him. No one. He would kill them all once this joke was over and he would take the William of this pathetic universe with him. He would teach him to love him, and they would be happy, just as he should have been with his William.

Damn cancer.

The memory left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He walked toward the assembly point. The sound of his boots on the metal floor reminded him, like clockwork, that his wish was almost fulfilled. But this only increased his hunger.

Chapter Text

Mark was flying home after another fight with a supervillain. He was covered in dirt and blood (it wasn't clear whether it was his or the villain's, but Mark knew it was mostly his. He sure hit hard for a second-rate villain...). All he wanted to do was take a nice shower and go see his favorite person: William.

He knew about his superhero activities; he was the first one Mark told about his powers, of course. He was his biggest supporter and admirer, always willing to stay up all night just to warmly welcome Mark home and tend to his wounds. Mark always told him there was no need and that he should also think about himself and his own health (even though he secretly hoped to find him there waiting for him after every battle), but he kept repeating that Mark was the one who should take care of himself the most, and that since he wasn't, then he would. He was truly an angel. A wonderful person. Mark has no idea how he could have found someone like that, willing to be with him and make such sacrifices FOR HIM. He was the luckiest guy in the world.

 

William was right, Mark knows. Ever since he got his powers, his father has been training him nonstop, day and night, sending him on missions and having him fight whatever villain they find causing chaos, be it a kaiju or Godzilla's distant cousin. Naturally, Nolan had him hired by Cecil, so he could give him any assignment at any time, regardless of place or time.

The only thing that kept him going and not collapsing on the floor every time he finished another training session with his father after a fight was knowing that William was waiting for him, ready to cheer him up...in whatever way Mark would have preferred. Knowing that William would always be on his side, cheering him on, spurred him on to always try to give his best in his new job. Of course, Mark also tried to do this to make his father proud and to save people, even if those were only part of his true motivations.

 

He finally arrived home. A few lights were on, illuminating part of the driveway, where his mother's car was parked, indicating she had already returned from work and was preparing dinner for everyone. Mark knew that seeing him in that state would make Debbie very worried, and she would also tell him to avoid touching anything so as not to dirty the furniture, so he decided not to enter through the front door, but through his window. He would clean everything up later; there was no rush. Or rather, there was, because he wanted to get to William as quickly as possible, but that could wait until tomorrow morning for the Mark of the future.

He entered the bedroom and immediately removed his mask; he couldn't stand it, but it was necessary to hide his true identity and ensure that those he cared about weren't threatened by some enemy.

He floated toward the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He turned on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up, and in the meantime, he took off his costume. Looking closer, it was probably in worse condition than its owner, torn in places and completely covered in blood and dirt. It would surely be the next one to be washed, although it would most likely have been sent to the trash can.

Looking in the mirror, Mark saw that he wasn't much better off than his costume either. He had a black eye that was starting to swell slightly, and his lower lip was split, most likely from his teeth breaking through the skin from the repetitive blows he'd taken. The rest of his body was covered in bruises and scratches, especially on his chest and sides. His back was barely visible, but he imagined it was no better. Yes, that blood was definitely his. But it didn't matter; his almost instantaneous wound healing, inherited from his father, would make all traces of the fight disappear in a few hours.

He touched the water. It had finally reached the desired temperature, and Mark didn't hesitate to step into the shower.

As he scrubbed his skin, he thought about what he would do next. He didn't want to keep William waiting, but it seemed wrong not to eat what his mother had prepared. Usually, he and William ordered food, since they were both too tired to cook in the evening, but on those rare occasions when Mark begged him with his most convincing puppy dog eyes, sometimes even going so far as to get down on his knees, William cooked his famous lasagna. With Mark's help, albeit somewhat dispensable, in the preparation, even though William always told him to stay away from the stove and focus on setting the table. It might seem like an exaggeration, but William truly feared that one of the episodes in which Mark cooked for them would happen again.

 

Once, when William had a cold and fever, Mark, who was obviously at home taking care of him, wanted to try making some chicken soup to make him feel a little better.
He wished he'd never done it.
Somehow, he almost managed to burn the soup and William's kitchen.
Before the chest-nut could know it, Mark had everything tidied up, making sure any remaining traces of smoke were carried away by the evening breeze by opening a window. So, Mark, not wanting to disappoint William, decided to have his mother make it for him, and once it was ready, he quickly went to retrieve it and bring it to William.
Although Mark didn't think he'd noticed, William had heard and seen almost everything while he was going to the bathroom. Too tired to do anything, he let it go, remembering, however, to never let Mark cook again.

Mark smiled at the memory.

 

After his shower, he'd come to the conclusion that it would be best to stay for dinner, but first he'd have to text William to let him know he was fine and would be right over. He dried his hair with a towel and his body with another, which he tied around his waist before leaving, taking his costume with him and holding it as far away from him as possible with two fingers, as if it were radioactive. He left it in the laundry basket in his room, fortunately empty until now. He immediately grabbed a change of clean clothes: CK underwear, a pair of cotton socks, baggy gray sweatpants, and a black long-sleeved T-shirt that accentuated his muscles.

It might have been obvious that he'd chosen these clothes to show off his boyfriend, but for everything he did for him, that was the least he could do. And William too, even if unintentionally, made Mark notice what he was wearing...
His body wasn't muscular, but rather toned and lean. And Mark adored it. William often wore jeans that accentuated a certain part of his body, making Mark almost jealous knowing that others besides him could admire it. He almost always wore simple T-shirts with jackets to complete his outfit, or sweatshirts when he was lazy, but this only made him more and more attractive to Mark. In fact, William could have worn a caterpillar costume and Mark would still have found him the most beautiful boy in the world. For him, it was like looking at an angel. With his pale skin, his light brown hair, and his blue eyes. He could stare into those eyes for hours.

He took his phone from his costume pocket and texted his beloved.

 

YOU: I'm back from the mission.
I'll have dinner at home. My mom's already cooked, and I wouldn't want to offend her if I told her I'm eating at your place, but I'll be there as soon as I'm done! <3

WILLIAM <3: Don't worry, take it easy, I'll wait for you :D

 

Mark hearted his message and stared at it with a stupid, lovestruck smile plastered across his face.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Debbie's voice announcing that dinner was ready. He went downstairs and into the kitchen, where he found his parents already sitting there talking over wine, waiting for Mark to start eating.

"Mark, honey, how did the mission go? Did you have any difficulties?" Debbie asked, worried at the sight of his face. Apparently, it would take a little longer than expected for his eye to heal.

At his wife's words, Nolan frowned slightly, before turning his gaze to his son. A hint of disappointment could be seen in his eyes at seeing the state he'd returned to.

"It went well, don't worry Mom, I'm fine. It wasn't too complicated." Mark assured her, sitting down and starting to eat. Debbie, however, hadn't been very reassured by Mark's words, continuing to look at him with a bit of concern, but saying nothing.

"It took you too long to defeat him, you have to stop holding back." Nolan declared, his expression incomprehensible, his tone almost icy. Mark looked away, ashamed. He didn't want to kill anyone, not wanting William to see him as a murderer. He knew his father, if necessary, would kill his own if they were too dangerous or took too long to fall, and he expected his son to do the same.

"I know, but if I hadn't, I would have killed him." he defended himself, looking at the plate in front of him. He couldn't look his father in the eye. Nolan looked at him with a strange intensity, but he didn't say anything; he couldn't in front of Debbie…

"Honey, don't think about it. Your father just wants to push you to do your best. Don't think about it anymore." Debbie gave him a gentle smile. "But how's school going? You're almost graduating, and I know you and William have decided to go to college together."

Mark wasn't really interested in continuing his studies and going to college, but since William wanted to study nursing, he intended to be there for him as much as possible to help him as he was doing with him. Even though it would be complicated, he would choose a simple major so he could graduate and not just have a high school diploma to show for it, but above all so he wouldn't waste his parents' money, completely unaware of his true reason for wanting to go to Upstate.

"Everything's alright. William is helping me catch up on some subjects. Because of my assignments, I can't study much, but thanks to his help I'll have no problem graduating. He and I have decided to go to Upstate. The tuition isn't too high, and there are plenty of courses to study."

"You don't necessarily need to go to college. You already have a job. I don't see the need." His father had already told him that he thought it was a waste of time, but Mark was as stubborn as he was, and so was Debbie.

"Come on, Nolan, it's up to Mark whether he goes or not, and I think it would be best if he graduated." Debbie immediately defended him. Nolan sighed. He knew it was pointless to continue arguing with his wife about these matters, so he finally agreed to his decision to go to college, but with the sole condition that he would continue his training and put his work first. Mark agreed; everything was fine with him as long as he was by William's side.

Dinner continued with Nolan and Debbie each talking about their day, and Mark listening and commenting when something piqued his interest.

 

After dinner, Mark washed the dishes as usual, doing it as quickly as possible, even though William had told him to take it easy eralier.

"I'm going to bed. I have to wake up early tomorrow to show a house in the next town," Debbie said, kissing Mark on the cheek and bidding him good night before going upstairs.

Nolan was in the living room reading; he too would be going to bed soon, but first he had something very important to do.

 

"Son, we need to talk."

Mark was about to go up to his room and then sneak over to William, but his father's voice stopped him immediately. He thought his father was scolding him for his weakness in not wanting to kill, now that his mother was away, and if she was already asleep, she surely wouldn't have heard them, being a heavy sleeper. Before he could think too much about it or say something, or lie to get out of this situation, Nolan spoke.

"I noticed you're very close to your friend, William. Too close." His tone was calm, but beneath the surface calmness one could detect hostility towards the person he was speaking about.

How did his father find out about his relationship with William? He hadn't told anyone; they'd kept it a secret precisely to prevent their parents from finding out. It seemed, however, that they'd done something wrong...that Mark had done something wrong. As much as he tried not to point it out, every time he talked about something concerning William, his voice, his behavior, his face, all took on a softer tone. He was aware of this, but he always tried to hide it well.
Apparently, however, he was wrong.
This discovery could have led to very unpleasant consequences. His father might have told him to break off ties with William, but surely he would never hurt him, right? ...Right?
He didn't even want to think about it, he couldn't imagine it. A life without William wasn't worth living. If something had happened to him, if his father had hurt him BECAUSE OF HIM, he didn't know what he would do, how far he would go.
Mark's heart was starting to pound, and he feared his father would hear it and become even more suspicious. His hands were shaking, and his forehead was damp with cold sweat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to look as normal as possible. He swallowed.

 

"What do you mean?" he tried not to show the tremor in his voice.

"Mark, I've noticed that every time you finish a mission or training session, you fly off right away. I followed you yesterday. I wanted to see where you were going in such a hurry, and I saw you with him." Nolan spoke almost like a father worried about his son, as if he'd seen him hanging out with a group of drug addicts. "I understand that you're...best friends," he could hear the disdain in his words, "but I hope he's not the reason you're holding back." Nolan looked at him with a more serious expression, his calm never faded. Mark stared into his eyes. He didn't know what to say. It was true that he wasn't letting himself go for fear of upsetting William, but he would never admit it.

"It has nothing to do with William. I have no intention of having people on my conscience." Mark let his annoyance seep through. Nolan sighed.

"I never told you the real reason I came to Earth..." Nolan looked at the floor, then turned back to Mark.

He revealed everything to him: the true nature of the Viltrumite empire, his mission, Mark's destiny. Mark was shocked; he remained still, his mouth dry, his hands trembling from the rage he felt at his father's every word.

"But you've changed! You've fallen in love with Mom! You save people, you're a hero!" Mark exclaimed.

"Mark, calm down. I've never forgotten my mission, but to fit into this planet's society and gain people's trust, I needed to adapt to its norms. I love Debbie as much as I would with a pet." Nolan remained calm, convinced of what he was saying. Mark, however, couldn't believe what he was saying. "Our mission is only to weaken the Earth and prepare it for the invasion of our people. It was nice being with your mother, raising you together, but I remain loyal to Viltrum."

"A PET?! OUR MISSION?!" Mark shouted, furious. How dare he speak like that about his wife, the mother of his son?

"Lower. Your. Voice." Nolan ordered, his patience wearing thin. "You're a Viltrumite, Mark, not an Earthling, and you have responsibilities."

"I don't give a shit! I will never help you enslave the planet I was born and raised on for people I don't even know!" Mark looked at his father defiantly.

"If you resist, then I will kill William." he declared sternly, looking Mark straight in the eye.

Mark felt his stomach knot; he can bet his heart stopped for a second as soon as he said those words. A drop of sweat ran down his temple.

"He's the cause of your weakness. When he's gone, you'll finally understand that Earth has nothing to offer you."

Mark didn't know what to do. He couldn't accept conquering Earth with his father. That would mean betraying his planet, his friends...William. But if he didn't, then he would lose him forever. Yes, Mark would betray him, and he might certainly hate him for it, but at least he would be alive. If he explained everything, maybe he would even forgive him.
There was no other choice at that point; he had to accept.

"Fine...I'll help you conquer Earth, but promise me you won't touch him," Mark replied reluctantly.

"I'm glad you changed your mind. If he doesn't get in the way, I won't hurt him." His usual calm tone returned.

Mark stared at him, hatred and anger in his eyes, but Nolan didn't care; for him, the conversation was over. He got up from the couch, said goodnight to Mark, and went upstairs to join Debbie in bed, leaving Mark there, who was following him out of the corner of his eye.

Mark sighed, his anger replaced by grief and self-disappointment. He stood there for a moment, staring at the floor, as if it could reveal the solution to this ordeal. An alternative.

After a while, he too headed to his room, turning off the living room light.

He picked up his phone; it was 9:32 PM; he had a message from William.

 

WILLIAM <3: Hey Mark
Is everything okay?
If you're too tired, you don't have to come. Don't worry, we can meet tomorrow morning for breakfast :)

 

Everything wasn't okay, but William made it seem more bearable. Even though he's not proud of it, he doesn't regret accepting for William.

 

YOU: It's all right, I'm coming, sorry if I kept you waiting too long.

 

He wanted to tell him why it was taking so long to arrive, but he preferred to talk to him in person.

He put his phone in his pocket, without waiting for his response, opened the window, and flew to his house.

Right now he just needed to be in his arms.

 

He arrived at his house almost immediately. He approached William's bedroom window. Through the glass, he could see the small lamp he kept on his bedside table, illuminating part of the room with a warm light. William was lying on the bed, scrolling on his phone, most likely watching TikTok as always.

Mark knocked, immediately drawing William's attention. As soon as he saw him, William smiled and immediately got up from bed to open the window for him to come in.

"Mark!" he said excitedly, then moved to allow him lower himself to the floor. As soon as he was down, they embraced each other tightly.

William was the first to pull away, gently cupping Mark's cheeks with his hands, inspecting his face with a worried expression, seeing the state he was in. The swelling around his eye had almost completely disappeared, but the purple tinge was still there, while his split lip had completely healed.

"He really messed you up, huh?" A small smile spread across his face, though his expression remained concerned.

"Yeah." Mark replied, smiling, "But it doesn't matter now. The important thing is that I'm here with you." Mark was DOWN BAD. He grabbed William's hips, pulling him even closer, and brought his lips to his, closing the agonizing distance between them.

William returned the kiss, soft and slow.

They remained still like that for a few minutes, with the light of the lamp and the moon illuminating them. Then, Mark pulled away from William, who was looking at him placidly. He wanted to tell him the truth, he couldn't keep it a secret from him, he deserved to know. He just had to find the courage.

"William... I need to talk to you about something very important..." he began, his face contorted in an expression of defeat and sadness. Reluctantly, he placed his hands back at his sides.
Seeing him like this, William grew worried. He removed his hands from Mark's cheeks and held them together in his lap. Before he could ask what it was about, Mark spoke first, explaining in detail what his father had told him, from seeing them together and understanding how close they were to how he betrayed Earth and forced Mark to do the same under threat. As he spoke, William's expression couldn't help but change from worried to shocked and frightened. When Mark then said he agreed in order to protect him, William covered his mouth and winced. He was clearly on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry, William. I know you're surely disappointed in me, but I had no other choice." Mark took William's hands in his, desperate, his eyes moist with tears that were about to fall. "You mean everything to me. I could never condemn you! Especially knowing you'd die because of me..." Tears streamed down his cheeks. Mark began to cry desperately, kneeling in fornt of Willaim.

"Please. Forgive me." he managed to say between sobs, looking William in the eyes.
William was crying too. He seemed torn, as if he were trying to find any other solution besides the one Mark had chosen. But there were no others. He had no powers, he couldn't help Mark defend the planet. He was just human. He was just a scared boy who didn't want to die.

William fell to his knees in front of Mark, to his surprise, and hugged him tightly. Mark, hesitant, then hugged him back.

Neither of them said anything. They stayed that way for a few moments, enjoying each other's warmth, which slowly calmed them down. Mark, however, couldn't stop crying quietly in his boyfriend's arms.

William was the first to break away from the embrace (keeping his hands on Mark's shoulders) to look him in the eyes.

"Mark, I'm not angry. I can't be, knowing you're doing this for me." Hearing those words, Mark felt very reassured, but he still thought that perhaps William should have been. After all, he had just condemned the Earth, just for him. "I know how difficult this decision must have been for you, and I'll never blame you for it." William firmly believed what he was saying. "But...you can't just hand over Earth that easily. There must be another way out of this mess," he finished determinedly.
Mark looked at him in shock. He didn't know what to say.

"B-but if I oppose them or try to stop them, my father will kill you! I can't!"

"To stop them, you don't have to fight them. What if you sabotaged the preparations secretly, without your father finding out? Maybe the Viltrumites, seeing that Earth isn't ready for conquest, will leave." William tried to reason, keeping calm.

Mark considered what he'd said. It didn't seem impossible. If he were smart and careful enough, he could do it. That way, he wouldn't lose William or Earth. He just had to figure out how to put the plan into action.

"It could work..." Mark replied. If there was a chance, he'd take it immediately.

William smiled. He cupped Mark's face and kissed him, slowly. Mark grabbed his hips as he returned the kiss, closing his eyes.

Slowly, the kiss became more desperate, almost hungry. Mark licked William's lips, asking permission to insert his tongue, and William opened his mouth. The sweet kiss was becoming deeper and wet as the minutes passed, with William occasionally showing how much he appreciated it by moaning into the kiss.

Mark, excited and already half hard, wanted to move to William's bed. Without leaving William's mouth, he picked him up by the back of his thighs and moved them both onto the mattress. Now William was underneath Mark, lying on his back, and was pulling the raven-haired boy closer from his shoulders, while Mark, on top of him, was between his legs.

They broke the kiss to catch their breath, a thread of saliva still connecting their mouths. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Mark moved into action again, kissing and nibbling along William's neck. William continued to moan softly every time Mark's lips made contact.

"Ah! Mark...!"

At that close proximity, he could smell William's scent and the lustful sounds he made, and that only drove him to continue. William was everything to him. Nothing could ever take him away. Mark lived for William; without him, there would be no reason to continue living.
Mark slid his hands under William's shirt, feeling his body as if he wanted to imprint every curve on the palms of his hands. His soft, pale skin was like velvet to him. He couldn't help but worship him.

William wasn't too fond of his body and because of that, he never felt particularly confident. He even tried going to the gym but the results were minimal. Mark, on the other hand, loved his body, thought it was beautiful, and never missed the opportunity to show him how much he liked it, especially when they were having sex. This time was no exception.

If he was half hard before, now he was fully hard.

"I love you," Mark whispered, voisce husky, finally pulling away from his neck. "I love you to death." He started kissing him again.

He began rubbing himself against William's crotch, who was also getting hard, to get some friction. The action elicited a gasp from the boy beneath him.

Mark pulled away from William, who was completely red. His lips, parted to catch his breath, glistened with saliva, and he stared back at Mark with lidded eyes.

He couldn't control himself anymore.

He quickly took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor, and William did the same, a little more awkwardly due to the position he was in. As soon as he took it off, Mark began kissing every single part of his body. A shiver ran down William's spine, and he placed a hand in Mark's hair, signaling him to continue.

After a while, Mark reached the hem of his pants. He looked at William with a look consumed by desire, seeking his consent to continue. William nodded, and the other wasted no time. He unbuttoned his pants, unzipping them with his teeth (he needed to spice things up, and he knew William loved it when he did that), while continuing to look him in the eyes. The chest-nut clung to the sheets as if they were the only thing keeping him in the alive.

He took off William's pants, placing them on the floor, leaving him in his boxers, which had formed a tent from his erection. Mark admired what he had done. William was there, beneath him, his legs spread, showing himself at his most vulnerable state, glistening with traces of Mark's saliva on his body, his cheeks rosy with arousal and embarrassment.

He couldn't have been more beautiful for Mark.

"You're so fucking beautiful..."

He pulled down William's boxers, removing them and freeing his dick. He spread the brunette's legs wider and took it in his hand, giving it a few strokes, eliciting moans from the other. William had to cover his mouth to keep from making too much noise and risking waking his parents. Mark, however, was upset he could no longer hear him. He began licking the tip, eliciting an immediate reaction from his boyfriend, and then moved on to the rest of the shaft. William was immersed in pleasure and it was becoming harder to stay quiet.

It got much more difficult when Mark decided that if William didn't want to be heard then he would force him.

Mark suddenly took him into his mouth, sucking and bobbing his head up and down. William arched his back, resting his free hand on Mark's head, all he could do was moan louder with pleasure, much to Mark's delight.
Honestly, Mark didn't care at that point whether William's parents could hear them or not. At worst, he'd lie and say they were watching porn, like two "normal" straight boys, and they'd believe him.

As he continued sucking, he reached out and brought his hand to William's mouth, indicating to lick his fingers. William immediately understood what he wanted to do and opened his mouth, doing as he'd been implicitly asked. The sensation of William's tongue was quite testing. Especially with him moaning quietly foem the sensation of being sucked off.

When he felt it was enough, Mark withdrew his hand, stopping sucking but continuing to stroke with his other hand, and inserted a finger into William's hole. William moaned louder from the intrusion.

Finally, Mark would hear to him again.

He began moving his finger in and out, eliciting the same reaction from William. Then he added another, doing the same thing, scissoring to open him up more. He could see how the chest-nut was enjoying it by the way his moans intensified and became more acute with each passing moment. Mark was proud of himself for giving him such pleasure and for being the reason behind it. He couldn't wait to give him even more pleasure when he was finally finished preparing him.

"M-mark- AH! I'm cum- ming!" William tried to warn him between gasps.

"Yes, come for me." Mark replied, speeding up his movements. He had now stopped focusing on his cock, concentrating entirely on his hole. A satisfied smile had settled on his face as he watched William fall apart at his hands (literally).

It was only a matter of time before William arched his back again, groaning and coming on his own stomach.

At that point, Mark decided he was ready, open enough to take him. He removed his two fingers, drawing another moan from William's mouth as he struggled to catch his breath. His hole was clenching on mothing, missing what had filled him before.

Mark didn't want to keep him waiting any longer, and honestly, if he didn't relieve himself immediately, his cock would explode (according to him). He immediately removed his sweatpants and his boxers (which had a rather obscene wet precum stain), throwing them both to the floor, leaving him completely naked as well. As soon as he removed them, his cock sprung up, finally free from the restraints. Evry vein was visible, his tip was coured a pinkish red and the base was covered by pubic hair.

William couldn't help but stare. It wasn't the first time they'd done it, but each time he was speechless at the sight, wondering how he'd managed to take it the last time without splitting open. Yet he loved how it made him feel, he couldn't help it once it was inside of him.

Mark always noticed when William stared at him, and he was very proud of it. How could he not? The person he loved most in the entire universe looked at him like that, with as much lust as he felt in his presence.

Okay, maybe not quite; no one was as desperate as him, he kenw it.

"Are you ready?" Mark asked, a slight urgency evident in his voice.

"Yes, I need you..." William replied, his voice lascivious, stretching his hole.

The action made the wheels in Mark's mind almost stop moving. That boy would be his downfall, but he didn't care.

He took William's legs and draped them over his shoulders, moving closer and adjusting his position, gripping the other's hips. He aligned his cock with William's entrance and pushed, inserting only the tip for now. William bit his lower lip, trying not to let out another moan, as Mark watched him intently for any sign of pain on his face.

The chest-nut nodded, signaling him to continue, and the other obeyed, pushing the rest of his length until it was fully in. William moaned softly, biting his lip harder to keep from screaming.

He was so hot and soft inside. Mark almost didn't want to come out. He couldn't wait any longer, he needed to move. If he didn't relieve himself, then he would truly explode (no, that wouldn't happen, but okay, drama queen, just say you want to fuck, you dog in heat). But he had to hold back, he didn't want to hurt his beloved.

"Y-you can move now." said William, voice slightly trembling.

Mark wasted no time and began moving slowly, starting with a slow but steady pace.

They were both moaning and gronanin in pleasure, but Mark was trying to maintain the established pace. He wasn't finding it easy to hold back, and he was worried that if he squeezed William's hips any harder, he'd leave marks on his pale skin. But how could you not fall in love with those blue eyes that rolled back with every thrust? Those rosy lips that couldn't contain his voice, remaining half-closed? That soft hair that tangled on the pillow? That lean, supple body, whose skin glistened with sweat against the lamplight?

Mark suddenly thrust harder, startling William.

"Sorry!" Mark apologized immediately, stopping and looking worriedly at his boyfriend.

William smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not hurt. I like it when you let go..." he replied, still blushing at his confession.

Mark blushed too. "So you want me to go faster?" he asked smugly.

"...yes..." William confirmed, looking away in embarrassment.

Mark then pulled almost all the way out, leaving only the tip inside, and then quickly pushed back in. William's reaction was immediate; this time he couldn't even stop himself from letting out a surprised cry of pleasure, making it almost easier for Mark, who from then on began to move faster. They were both losing themselves in an almost suffocating pleasure.

To change things up a bit, Mark moved closer to William's face, bending his legs and bringing them closer to his shoulders. In this new position, he was able to penetrate much deeper, touching his prostate. By this point, William was seeing stars.

Mark brought his lips to William's parted ones, from which lascivious moans of pleasure continued to escape, closing the gap with a wet kiss.
He knew he truly looked like a dog in heat at that moment, but how could he not behave that way with William responding so well to his cock, squeezing it with every thrust. In short, how could he control himself? It was too much. Too much even for him. By now his mind was completely clouded by pleasure. By William.

William, trying hold on to a shred of reality, grabbed Mark's shoulders, pulling him closer and scratching him by doing so.

They only broke the kiss to catch their breath, or rather, only because William needed it. Mark, after all, could hold his breath for hours. While William breathed, he nibbled the skin between his shoulder and neck, leaving marks with his teeth. On his neck, however, he reserved kisses and hickeys, which would be forcefully visible the next day.
William often told him not to leave too many marks so as not to arouse his parents' suspicions; it would be quite difficult to cover them up, and besides, he wouldn't be able to come up with a very belivable excuse. Mark always told him he wouldn't overdo it, but he always left too many at the end.
He wanted people to know that William wasn't single, that he already belonged to someone. That he belonged to Mark. Even if he didn't mean to, he knew William attracted other boys besides Mark. Sometimes he saw how a certain Rick, or whatever his name was, approached him after class. He saw how he looked at him the same way Mark did. It was too obvious. When he saw them together, Mark would immediately join in the conversation, sticking close to William, visibly annoying Rick, who was almost forced to move away. William, however, dear, sweet, innocent William, was a little too dull to notice the other boy's feelings, simply thinking they were friends.
A few weeks ago, to spite Rick, Mark, before going to lunch with William, took them both to an empty bathroom, one that almost no one went to. There, he began kissing William, who, although a little surprised by the sudden affection, didn't pull away. Then, he moved to his neck, sucking and kissing the skin.
William, since there were there, couldn't see the mark he left.
When they left, careful not to be seen, they went together to the cafeteria, where Rick was sitting at a table eating his lunch. While they were eating, Rick approached them and sat down across from William and Mark (who had made sure there were no other free seats near the other boy). During their conversation, Mark saw Rick continue to stare at William's neck, seeing the bruises that had formed. They weren't very visible from a distance, but if you got closer, you could see them clearly. Mark will never forget Rick's disappointed and angry expression when he was faced with the proof that he didn't (and never would) have a chance with William.

After a few more thrusts, Mark felt himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm.

"William—I'm about to cum…!" Mark declared between moans.

"M-me too!"

He gave a few more thrusts and then cummed inside William, who came for the second time, staining Mark's abs and his owns stomach, crying out another moan of pleasure. Mark slowly thrusted some more, makings ure that his um wouldn't leak out, and then pulled out, leaving him empty.

He fell on top of William. They were both panting. He moved away, resting next to William, looking at him with a smile full of affection.

"I love you," said William, snuggling into Mark's chest.

"I love you too," Mark replied, hugging the other and pulling him closer.

They stayed like that, simply cuddling.

Mark was the last to fall asleep. He couldn't sleep, still thinking about what he had to do to save William and the Earth. The fate of humanity and his beloved were both in his hands, and he couldn't help but feel oppressed.
As he tried to fall asleep, he thought of all the ways he could counter his father. He had said they would have to weaken the Earth for the arrival of Viltrum, and that certainly meant eliminating its only sources of defense against threats. The Guardians of the globe. Yes. They would be his father's first target. He had to warn them, warn them about Omni-man.

Tomorrow he would tell them everything. He would leave when his father was home and head to their headquarters. He would also warn Cecil; surely he could find countermeasures to defeat his father. He knew the guardians were strong, but he doubted they could defeat his father. Cecil, however, would have a weapon capable of stopping him.

He finally had a plan, and he would make it work. It had to work.

William's heartbeat and warmth brought him back to the present, calming his thoughts. Mark tightened his embrace slightly, kissing his head and letting himself fall into Morpheus's arms.

That would be one of the last nights they would spend together.

 

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Sunlight shone through the window into William's room. The rays reached Mark's eyes, waking him. He blinked, trying to adjust to the light. As soon as he fully awoke, all of yesterday's events came flooding back to him: the fight, dinner with his parents, his father's revelation, him crying in front of William (he would never forget how pathetic he was), their solution, their moment of intimacy, and his final plan. Mark had to inform Cecil and the Guardians that day without his father finding out and arousing suspicion. A weight settled on his chest.
What if Nolan noticed something was wrong with his behavior? Or if the Guardians got carried away and attacked him at the wrong time, ending up dead, having accomplished nothing and condemning William? Or if Cecil doesn't have anything he could use against Nolan? After all, he himself, as a half-Viltrumite, didn't know his own weaknesses, let alone a human.
There were so many questions, but what other choice did he have? He had to have faith in not only himself but also Cecil and the others. That was all he could do.

William made a small noise, disturbed by the light shining on his face, interrupting Mark's thoughts. The raven-haired boy realized he was still dirty from the night before, blushing. He needed a shower.

He reluctantly pulled away from William and climbed out of bed. He closed the curtain so his beloved could still sleep, and picked up his own clothes from the floor. He grimaced at his boxers, which still had a visible, now dry, precum stain.

It was obvious now. He was a simp.

He grabbed a pair of boxers from William's drawer; he certainly didn't want to put his own back on. Of course, he would give them back, after all, he already had some of William's things at home that he had taken without him realizing...

He snuck out of William's room to go to the bathroom and clean up, careful not to wake William's parents, who were still asleep in their room.
He took a quick shower, dried himself off, and put his own clothes back on. He had used his boyfriend's shower body wash and shampoo, and now his scent was imprinted on his body. He couldn't have been happier.

Before leaving, he took a clean towel and dampened it with soapy water to clean his cum from William's body. He left the bathroom and quietly returned to the bedroom, where William was still asleep.

He looked so cute as he slept. Mark's heart filled with lovefor him.

He gently rubbed William's body, making sure not to wake him. He made sure to clean every inch of skin, but he didn't bother with the remnants of his creampie inside William; he didn't know how to keep it from looking weirder than it actually was. William would take care of it once he woke up.

When he was done, he covered William with a clean blanket from his closet.

He didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but he couldn't stay; he had to hurry and inform Cecil.

He gently shook William's shoulder, and William opened his eyes, looking at him with a tired smile.

"Good Morning." Mark said softly.

"Hi." William whispered.

"I'm sorry I can't stay for breakfast, but I have to go. I have to talk to Cecil."

William nodded, cupping Mark's cheek and kissing him.

"You can do this. I believe in you." William whispered proudly.

Mark looked at him fondly, then kissed his forehead and walked toward the window.

"I love you. I'll come back later." Mark finished, giving William one last smile before leaving and flying out the window.

 

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Everyone at the Pentagon already knew him; it had become his third home, so to speak, for how many times he'd been there over the past few months. So it wasn't difficult at all to ask to speak to Cecil.

"He's in his office. I'll let him know right away." said Carol, a young woman who worked as his personal secretary.

"Thanks." Mark replied, before heading to Cecil's office. He wanted to tell him first, before the Guardians, so that if anything went wrong with the plan (WHICH SHOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED), they wouldn't be unprepared.

He knocked on the door, and when a "Come in" answered, he opened it and entered the room.

Cecil was sitting at his desk, reading some documents placed directly in front of him, but he stopped as soon as Mark entered the room.

"What do you need, kid?" Cecil asked, an almost permanent monotone expression on his face.

"I have something of vital importance to tell you about the planet's safety." His words seemed to capture the old man's attention, and he moved forward to the desk, placing his hands clasped in front of him.

"What is it?"

"My father...he confessed to me that he wants to prepare Earth for the conquest of his planet, Viltrum. He asked me to join him, but when I refused, he threatened to kill someone very dear to me," Mark confessed. Cecil was studying him.

"Did he tell you about his plan to 'prepare' the planet?"

"He just told me we need to weaken it. I think he's referring to the heroes protecting it; after all, they're the only ones defending the globe. In fact, I believe his first targets will be the Guardians. I came here to warn you of this. I fear they won't be able to defeat him, but perhaps you have a weapon that can work against him. One that can take advantage of one of his weaknesses."

"I understand." He replied with a long sigh, sounding like he, too, didn't know how to handle the situation. After all, how do you defeat an adult Viltrumite? "We need to warn Immortal of the situation immediately; we can't lose the most powerful group of superheroes on Earth." He paused to think, then continued, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mark, but even I don't know your father's weaknesses yet. Let's just say I've never had the honor of studying him like a lab rat." Cecil concluded. It might not have seemed so on the outside, given his unreadable expression, but inside, panic was building.

"So—" Mark began, wanting to know what his plan was, but was quickly interrupted by the other.

"With no object capable of weakening him, our only strength is the fact that he doesn't know we know his true intentions. It's true that the Guardians wouldn't be able to defeat Omni-Man alone. You, as a Viltrumite, however, have a greater chance than they do."

Mark knew Cecil was right. The only person who could kill a Viltrumite was another Viltrumite. He absolutely had to stop him himself.

"Yes, I know. I'm the only one who can kill him. I'll do it." All the hatred and anger he'd felt last night returned with a vengeance. The mere thought of his father's words and threats was all the motivation he needed to face him.

Cecil nodded. "We need to come up with a plan to catch him off guard. You need to find out what his next move will be. You'll have to tell me everything in person; it would be too risky to talk about it over the comm; he might hear you."

"Yes. When I have more informations, I'll come back," Mark finished, turning to leave.

"Be as credible as possible, or we're all dead."

Mark left, closing the door behind him.

Yes, he had to stay calm. If his father found out he was backstabbing him, William would suffer the consequences. He couldn't make mistakes.

He had to get home; if his father noticed he was missing, he'd become suspicious.

 

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He entered through the window; there was no question of going through the front door now. It was 8:26, Nolan should be awake by now, and his mother would have already left for work. He usually woke up much later on the weekends, exhausted from training and fighting, so if he showed up now, it would be strange.
He changed from the clothes he was wearing yesterday into a simple, loose-fitting short-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of Denim pants.
After changing, he sat on the edge of his bed, thinking about how he could look his father in the eyes without revealing all his hatred for him. But above all, how he would approach him to extract the information he needed. He just had to gather his courage and stay calm.

It was 8:48 by now, he was hungry, he'd been awake for an hour, and he usually ate breakfast right after getting ready. It might be a good time to go out, but if his father asked him why he hadn't stayed in bed longer, he'd make up an excuse on the spot.

 

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

 

In the kitchen, Nolan was sitting at the dining table, typing away on his computer. He was most likely working on his next book, though Mark doesn't understand why he's maintaining this facade even when no one was around to see.

As he was walking down the stairs, Nolan caught sight of him from the corner of his eye and stopped typing, closing his computer.

"Good morning, Mark."

"...Hi..." Mark replied coldly, going to get a bowl of cereal and milk.

How could he be so normal after what he'd told him yesterday?

"On Tuesday, I'm going to kill the Guardians of the Globe, and you're coming with me. It'll be quicker if there's two of us." Nolan announced, still in that disgustingly calm voice, as if he were talking about the weather and not about wanting to kill people. It also seeme like he spared him the trouble of asking him he was planning to do.

Mark turned to look at him, but said nothing. He poured his cereal and sat down across from him him.

"How are you going to get rid of them?" the boy asked, looking at the bowl, not wanting to return his father's gaze.

"We can't let them find out. Not yet. I'll call them all to an emergency meeting at their headquarters. Once they're all there, we'll attack them together to disorient and kill them all. None of them can be left alive. If Cecil finds out, then it'll be a real nuisance."

He didn't answer, continuing to chew without even once looking his father in the eye. He knew he'd heard him, so he didn't need confirmation.

Mark now had all the information he needed.

He finished eating rather quickly. He didn't want to stay there with him one more minute. He put the bowl in the sink and headed for the front door.

"Don't wait for me for lunch." He left before Nolan could ask him anything else.

 

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

 

He intended to stay as far away from him as possible. He hadn't planned on returning until Tuesday, but the thought of leaving his mother alone with him worried him too much. He feared he might hurt her.

He flew to the Pentagon again. He was starting to feel like a postman by now. Cecil apparently wasn't in the office. Carol led him to another room.

Cecil was inside a huge, dark room. There were other people, all sitting at black desks with monitors in front of them. Each screen showed a different clip of his father fighting a monster or another S-class supervillain.

"You were quick." Cecil mused.

"My father wasted no time in telling me his intentions. Thank him." Mark replied sarcastically. He was so frustrated and angry with his father that he couldn't control his emotions.

"What did he tell you?"

"He wants to set a trap for the Guardians in their own headquarters. He said I'll have to help him to speed things up."

"I understand. I've already warned them. They assured me they wouldn't show any hostility towards Omni-Man; they're aware of the sensitivity of this situation." He paused, looking at some monitors. This caught Mark's attention.

"Are you trying to figure out if he has a weakness by analyzing his fights? Do you really think that you'll find anything?" Mark thought it was pointless to try to find even the slightest weakness in his father by just watching a few videos. They would never be able to find one now, after more than 18 years of Omni-Man fighting for global defense.

"We think we might discover something we've been too stupid to see until now. I admit, I've never really watched your father at work very closely. You know, there was no need to find a countermeasure against our best hero before. We're evaluating his every move, block and defense. It could definitely be useful when you face him."

"I hope you can find something that can help us." He sighed. "I wanted to ask you a favor, though."

"What did you want to ask me?"

"I told you my father threatened to kill someone very dear to me if I didn't help him. If the mission doesn't go well, I need to know he can't find him to hurt him. I want you to hide him; he mustn't find him, he mustn't get to him. You have to do me this favor; I can't risk losing him." He was desperate, his last words showing fractures at the edges. The mere thought of condemning William made him feel unbearably nauseous.

"Fine. But I can't guarantee you complete protection. You know how strong he is—" he couldn't finish his sentence. Mark grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and leaned so close to his face that Cecil could still smell the cereal he'd eaten earlier.

"I don't give a shit! I know the Pentagon walls are like papier-mâché to my father, but I just want him not to be found! There must be at least one useless, tiny, fucking room in this facility. Hidden so well it's not even listed on the plans. And that's where you'll put him." He let go of Cecil, who was still stunned by Mark's sudden fury. Everyone in the room had turned toward the two of them at that point, some guards even pointing their weapons at the boy.

Mark realized what he'd done, noticing the extra pairs of eyes turned on him and the guns pointed at him (not that they could have done anything to him). "Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I overdid it. But please make sure he can't find him."

Cecil motioned for the guards to put their weapons down. "Leave it, kid." He was used to Mark's bullshit by now, and this wasn't all that different. "I'll make sure this 'he' is well hidden in here. Bring him to me before Monday." He adjusted his jacket.

"Thanks. I'll bring him to you tomorrow. I have to go now. If you find out anything call me on the comm, I won't be home long anyway." Mark concluded, before leaving the room, trying to ignore the heavy gazes still focused on him.

 

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Mark texted William to tell him he was coming and flew to his house. He had to inform him of everything that had happened, especially the decision he'd made without consulting him. He knew William wouldn't be very happy about having to hide from the outside world for a few days in a government facility without having had any say in the matter, but Mark was doing it for his own good. Surely he would understand.

He arrived at his destination. The window had been left open so Mark could walk right in without knocking. William was at his desk, studying for his English literature test that was due that week.
Mark thought he studied too much. In fact, he often came to his house just to distract him and get him to do something other than study. William had expressed his annoyance every time, but eventually Mark managed to convince him to put down his books and play video games with him.

He climbed in through the window, attracting William's attention. William stopped reading his textbook to turn his attention to his boyfriend.

"Hey, William." Mark said, a gentle smile forming on his face as his eyes rested on the other boy.

"Mark, how did it go?" William asked, concerned, hugging Mark, who returned the affectionate gesture.

"Good, if you will. My father wants to attack the Guardians on Tuesday and wants me to help him. That's where I'll attack him when he least expects it. I told Cecil everything, too; he's already informed everyone."

"Good, at least you guys have a plan."

"Yes." Mark avoided William's gaze looking at the floor floor, scratching the back of his neck. He had to tell him. "I also... asked Cecil to hide you at the Pentagon. If anything goes wrong, I don't want you to be killed because of me. I'm sorry I didn't ask your opinion on this, but I can't risk anything happening to you." Mark said worried.

William was astonished. He looked at him with a slightly betrayed look, but then it was completely replaced by one of understanding and surrender, as he himself didn't want to die. He sighed. "I understand, Mark. Thanks for wanting to keep me safe. While I'm not crazy about being in a government facility, I like being killed in my own home by my boyfriend's father even less." he said finally with a small laugh. He had intended to defuse the situation, but his words had the opposite effect on Mark, who now felt even more responsible.

Mark placed his hands on William's shoulders, looking at him solemnly. "I promise nothing will happen to you."

William's expression softened. "I know I'll be safe with you protecting me."

They brought their lips together and kissed slowly and slowly.

"Tomorrow I'll take you to Cecil. It's best if we tell your parents something credible for their son to disappear for a few days," Mark said, caressing William's cheek.

"It won't be too hard to make up something believable. When they asked me about the noises last night, I said we were watching porn, and they believed it." They both burst out laughing.
"I'll tell them you invited me to go camping and that I'll be back next weekend. It should be a good lie; they'll believe it."

"Let's hope so. It would be a little weird to have to confess the real reason." They both laughed.

 

He spent the rest of the day with William. They played video games, got take out and talked more about their situation and their hypothetical future in college if everything went according to plan. Mark, however, wanted that future to be not hypothetical, but real.

When evening came, Mark said goodbye to William, telling him he'd pick him up the next day.

As much as he wanted to stay there with him, he couldn't help but go home. Especially since his father had already scolded him for spending too much time with William. He didn't want to make things worse.

 

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

 

He saw Debbie's car parked in the driveway; she must have come home from work.

He entered through the front door this time, careful not to be seen by any neighbors; the last thing he needed to do was explain to some guy why he could fly.

Debbie greeted him, asking where he'd been, and Mark had to make up a lie on the spot. He said he'd been out with Amber, that they'd had lunch together. That seemed enough for his mother to believe when she started asking him how he was doing and other such questions. Nolan was nowhere to be found. Cecil must have sent him somewhere far away to stall for time.

Mark had dinner alone with his mother, discussing Debbie's work and how his day had gone. They washed the dishes together, and then Mark gave her goodnight.

He felt exhausted. Only now was he feeling all the stress he'd accumulated since this morning.

He put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. Before falling asleep, he thought about what awaited him the next day. He would accompany William to Cecil, stay with him for as long as William needed, and then return home immediately, always so as not to arouse too much suspicion by his prolonged absences, especially when there was no one to fight. Would William be okay? Would he feel alone down there without anyone he knew, without him? Would he really be safe?
He wanted to believe at all costs that William would be okay, that Nolan wouldn't find him. But something inside him told him it was all pointless, that William would die, and that it would all be his fault.

Mark was starting to feel helpless. That feeling, coupled with the frustration he felt at not being able to guarantee the safety of the only person he'd ever loved so ardently in his entire life, was overwhelming him. Soon, all those negative emotions overflowed in the form of tears that streamed down his face, wetting his pillow.

And so, Mark cried himself to sleep in his room, while Omni-Man returned from who knows where outside.

 

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

 

The next morning, Mark woke up to someone knocking on his door. He recognized the person knocking: his father.
Mark rubbed his eyes, turning to his alarm clock on the bedside table to see what time it was: 7:3 AM on a Sunday morning.

Nolan entered his room. "Mark, get ready. We have to train for tuesday. Since you came home late yesterday, you missed training, so you'll have to train twice as hard today. Hurry up." he declared, then left immediately afterward, without giving Mark a chance to complain.

Mark lay there, staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to get up, especially not to train with him to kill the Guardians. But he knew there was no point in disobeying him; he was too insistent, and if he didn't move willingly, then he would force him. Like the last time... when he was 14.
He had refused to practice flying with his father because he wanted to continue playing video games. Nolan, losing hi patience, broke his beloved PlayStation and forced him to fly around the globe five times in a row. If he hadn't obeyed, Nolan admitted he would punish him much more severely. Obviously, his 15-year-old self, already after breaking his PlayStation, had been convinced to do as he was asked, but hearing his father tell him in that dangerous tone that he would punish him even more severely if he didn't cooperate had certainly dissuaded him from disobeying him again.

This time, he didn't want to know how he would threaten him. If then he had broken something he cared deeply about at the time, then this time, nothing would stop him from doing it again.

He got out of bed and went to get ready; a cold shower would wake him up.

He would make the most of this training and turn it against his father.

Speaking of William, he wanted to take him to Cecil in the early afternoon, but knowing how much time he would spend training, it would surely take him much longer to get back, especially if he had to train twice today. He needed to let William know he was late. Maybe he'd come by in the late afternoon, making up another excuse for why he wouldn't stay for dinner.

After he finished showering, he texted William when he'd be arriving, telling him he'd stay with him for as long as it took him to get used to it.

Once ready, he put on his costume (a clean one, just like the one he'd worn the other day, since it had been put in the washing machine, hoping to clean it) and went down to the kitchen, where Nolan was already waiting for him.

"Let's go," he said as soon as he saw him.

"But I haven't had breakfast—"

"A true Viltrumite can go months without food or water. Learn to suppress hunger and thirst." he said coldly, finally, not wanting to hear any more complaints.

Mark didn't argue, didn't say anything. He just stood there, staring at the floor and trying to stay calm.

Only now was he realizing how difficult it was not to yell at his father and anticipate their fight.

 

Hours passed before Mark was finally able to return home. He was exhausted. They had practiced flying, pushing Mark's abilities until he matched his father's top speed. Then they had engaged in a sort of friendly fight, where Mark, despite great difficulty, had almost managed to beat him, before his father punched him in the stomach so hard it robbed him of all the oxygen in his lungs and sent him crashing to the ground, clutching his stomach. Nolan seemed clearly impressed by his son's abilities, much improved from before. His strength had also increased, so much so that the blows he landed were almost as powerful as his own.

Mark, on the other hand, thought he still wasn't strong enough. He hadn't truly reached his full power, and especially not his father's. Sure, he was proud of himself for having improved so much, but he would have to do better to beat his father. Above all, he was infuriated by the fact that he was still so much weaker than him.

 

By the time he got home, the sky had already changed color. From its intense blue, it had become a mix of blue and orange. It was really late. Mark was all sweaty, and even though his stomach still hurt (it's sure to form a big bruise), he needed to get it sorted out before going to William.

He took a quick shower and changed into something comfortable, a sweatshirt and sweatpants (he had plenty in the closet). He went downstairs to where his parents were discussing that evening's dinner. Mark couldn't understand how his father could still be so natural with Debbie after the way he'd called her.
He said he was going out to see a movie with Amber (his excuse for everything these days; when it's all over, he'll invite her out to dinner with him and William) and that he'd have something to eat with her. His mother seemed a little disappointed that Mark wasn't at dinner, but told goodbye, wishing him a good time. His father, on the other hand, said nothing, watching him attentively as he walked out the front door.

As soon as Mark closed the front door, he picked up his phone to let William know he was coming. He saw that he'd seen the previous message, replying that he'd wait for him and that in the meantime he'd get ready to take the things he wanted to bring.

He walked toward William's house, thinking it best not to fly in his civilian clothes again. The last two times had been extremely important exceptions, and he needed to hurry, but this time he could take his time. Especially since if his father had seen him flying, he wouldn't have believed his earlier excuse and would have followed him.

When he reached his destination, he rang the doorbell. He could hear someone inside rushing to open it. Immediately afterward, the door opened, and William smiled at him on the other side.

"Mark!" he said, before embracing him in a warm embrace. Mark immediately returned the hug, resting his cheek on the other boy's soft hair, inhaling his scent.

Oh God, that alone was enough to make him feel better. He had to remember to change his shampoo. It wasn't enough to smell that scent only when he was with William, but to have it on him. As if William were always with him.

"Are you ready?" Mark asked softly.

"Yes. I packed a bag with some things I want to bring with me."

"Perfect. What about your parents?" He broke away from the hug to get a better look at his boyfriend's face. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them we were going camping together for a week and that you'd come by later to go with me. They didn't want to at first, but they let me because they know that I'm studying really hard for school. They left a few minutes ago to go out to dinner together. They say hi, by the way." William explained.

"Oh, thanks." Mark smiled.

Yes, they loved him.

"Well, we'd better go, I don't want to keep Cecil waiting too long. Give me the bag."

William went in to get it and then returned to Mark, handing it to him. Mark slung the strap over his shoulder.

"Can we go?" Mark asked.

"Yes, just wait while I close the door." William replied, pulling the door shut behind him and closing it with his key. "Okay, let's go."

Mark picked him up bridal style and flew toward the Pentagon. William clung to him. He loved flying. Feeling the wind in his hair.
He often asked Mark to take him on trips, and Mark was always ready to take him wherever he wanted. They went to Rome, Copenhagen, Ottawa, Puerto Rico, and many other places.
But this time was different. They weren't going to a new city to have fun and try the local food. They were going to take William to a maximum-security government facility so he wouldn't be killed. And that didn't make the flight very pleasant for either of them.

"Where will they put me?" William asked, a nervous expression forming on his face. Mark's heart sank at the sight of him so worried.

"I asked them to put you in a secret room, so you'd be safe. I'll stay with you tonight, as long as you want. Don't be afraid." he reassured him.

William seemed a little calmer at those words.

 

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

 

At the Pentagon, they were escorted by guards to where Cecil was waiting. They entered a completely white room; nothing could be seen except the two of them, the guards, and Cecil, who stood there in the middle.

"You must be the one Mark told me about." Cecil said monotone, reaching out to shake William's hand.

"Uh, yes. I'm William. You must be Mr.Stedman." William shook the man's hand. Mark hadn't yet left his side and was watching the interaction between them very carefully.

"Yes." he replied simply, finally releasing William's hand and putting his back in his pocket. "Follow me, I'll take you to where you'll be staying." he turned and started walking away from the opposite side from which they entered.

Mark took William's hand, intertwining their fingers, and gave him a reassuring smile. William returned it with a kind smile. Together, they followed Cecil.

After a moment, Cecil stopped in the middle of nowhere, as if there was something in front of him they couldn't see, and moved his hand as if to open a door. The two boys watched in amazement, as if they were witnessing a magic trick. From the once completely white space, they could glimpse a rather small room, with a bed, a bedside table with a lamp and a landline phone on it, a small table with a stool, and then another door on the wall where the bed was attached, which most likely led to a small bathroom.

"This is the most hidden and secluded room we have; only Donald and I know of its existence," Cecil declared as he entered, with the boys following him, who did the same, looking around. "For anything, just call the number saved in the phone you see there, and my secretary will answer you. Any questions?" Cecil asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, it's all clear," William replied immediately.

"Good. I'll leave you two alone. Afterwards, Donald will come by to bring you dinner, William. When you leave, Mark, call Carol. Donald will always be the one to show you out, since you can't see inside the room." Cecil finished, leaving and closing the door.

"I've never been to the Pentagon, but I never imagined I'd see anything like this." William said, referring to the white room.

"I've never seen it before; it's the first time Cecil has shown me. We usually only meet in his office." Mark was looking around for a moment. He thought the room was tiny, but William would only be staying there for a few days; it just needed to be well hidden. And from what he could see, it was indeed.

William sat down on the bed, and Mark put the bag on the floor, near the coffee table. He didn't see the point; there was practically nothing in that room.

"Can you stay until tonight?" William asked, flashing his most convincing puppy dog eyes (let's just say he'd learned some things from his boyfriend). Mark had already told him he'd stay as long as he wanted, but seeing those eyes was almost convincing him to stay there forever. It wouldn't be bad. Just the two of them, hidden from the world. Hidden from his father. But of course, that wasn't possible.

"Of course I'll stay!" Mark said, flashing a smile. He sat down next to William and placed a hand on his thigh. Thinking about it, they were alone, no one could hear them, he hadn't seen any cameras, and they were literally hidden from everyone and everything. What better time for a little intimacy? He could finally hear William scream his name in pleasure without having to hold back. The thought alone was already turning him on.

"What would you like to do?" he asked seductively, his hand lightly squeezing the other's thigh, who was blushing slightly.

"I brought the Nintendo Switch, we could play Mario Kart together." he replied quickly, avoiding Mark's gaze.

Mark was enjoying every moment, loving it when he made him nervous. He leaned closer to William's face, who shifted awkwardly, his hand still on his leg.

"Or?" he asked, smirking. William was all red.

"M-Mark...I-I, I'm not very comfortable doing it here..." he said, extremely embarrassed to say it.

Mar immediately moved away from William, removing his hand from his leg. He absolutely didn't want to force him to do it here if he felt uncomfortable. He gave him a sympathetic smile, but William continued to look at the floor.

"Sorry..." William said, taking his left arm with his right hand. He looked like he felt guilty for not giving in.

"No! You don't have to apologize! If anything, I should apologize for making you feel uncomfortable. I understand that this isn't the best place for sex, so you don't have to feel guilty for rejecting me, Will." Mark immediately assured William, who met his eyes and smiled kindly. "I'm sorry." Mark hugged William, kissing his temple. The chest-nut returned the hug.

Mark freed himself from William's arms to look him in the eye. "Shall we play Mario Kart, then?" Mark suggested. "I'll absolutely destroy you this time!"

William laughed. "Sure, you'll definitely beat me this time." he said, rolling his eyes playfully and getting up to grab his Nintendo from his bag.

 

They played until Donald knocked, bringing them sandwiches. Mark won only three out of twelve races, but was consoled by a kiss from William. After eating, they stayed in bed cuddling. Mark was behind William, being the big spoon, while William was the smal one.

 

"Promise me you'll be okay, that you won't get killed." William said suddenly. Mark tightened his embrace.

"I promise. I've gotten stronger, I won't hold back any more." Mark replied. "I'll protect you no matter what," he added in a whisper.

They remained in that position until Mark realized William was asleep. He had to go, he couldn't stay here. He'd told them he'd be with Amber that night, yes, but they definitely wouldn't spend all night eating together after the aforementioned movie.

Slowly, and careful not to wake William, Mark got out of bed. He called the number stored on the phone and quietly asked Carol to send Donald to take him to the exit.

While he waited, he sat on the stool and watched William, who was sleeping so sweetly.

As soon as he heard Donald's footsteps approaching, Mark immediately opened the door, leaving and closing it softly so as not to wake William.

Donald, somewhat weirded out, avoided asking questions, simply telling Mark to follow him out.

 

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

 

The next day, his father wanted to repeat the intense training of the previous day. He said that if he trained harder, he would be able to catch up. Besides, tomorrow would be the day he would put an end to everything.

For Nolan, it would be the beginning of a slow, secret conquest; for Mark, it would be the end of the threats and lies of the monster he called father.

Today, too, they spent the whole day fighting and flying, and this time too, Mark was getting closer and closer to matching his father's strength. During both training sessions, they didn't speak much; the only one who exchanged a few words was Nolan, who limited himself to commenting on some of Mark's moves. Otherwise, glances sufficed.

 

While he was training, William had texted him, asking if he could stop by again and spend some time with him. Apparently, being able to just play video games in that closet wasn't the most fun thing in the world, and he needed someone to talk to. And let's just say that calling Carol every hour to see if she was free to chat wasn't working, as she always said she was busy.

When Mark saw the messages, he immediately thought about replying that he'd be back to hang out with him, but then he realized he'd have to find another excuse to skip dinner with his parents again, and he couldn't always bring Amber into the mix.

Come to think of it, he didn't have many other friends besides her and William. He'd never made friends with other superheroes, as his father never allowed him to be part of any team. At first, he thought it was because there was no point in working with other heroes when he could already be considered the second-strongest hero in the world, but now he understood the real reason. If he got too attached, it would be harder to get rid of them. Sure.

Despite this, he had occasionally worked with groups against bad guys and, inevitably, met the members of a rather famous group called Teen Team. They were nice, especially the leader, Rex Splode, who was very funny, but they never became real friends, just acquaintances. His girlfriend, Eve, wasn't very pleasant to be around, however; she was too clingy for his tastes and he didn't like her at all, especially since she was still dting Rex.

Returning to William, Mark finally texted him to tell him he couldn't come because he was afraid his father might follow him again, since it was the second time in a row he'd gone out after training, and he absolutely didn't want to risk his whereabouts being discovered.
William would understand.

In fact, what did he need other friends for when he was here? Amber was also a dear friend, but she would never be on the same level. You could say he put her on par with his mother (yes, he also put his mother below William, don't judge him; he already knows he sucks).

 

At dinner, his mother asked him how his practice was going, and when she told Nolan he couldn't miss any more school days, he told her he'd be back at school the day after tomorrow with no other commitments. Debbie complained a lot about this, but he kept telling her it was necessary, because he had to improve. When she saw there was no way to change her husband's mind, Debbie changed the subject, tired of always talking about superhero stuff, and brought up some gossip about her real estate agency. It might not have seemed like it, but Mark was quite interested in the topic, the opposite of his father.

 

After finishing eating, he helped his mother wash the dishes as usual and then went to bed. His parents were still in the living room watching a movie together, and Mark couldn't help but feel the same feeling of disgust that he always felt at seeing his father being so casual with hiss mother.

He went to his room and, before going to bed, he texted William, talking mostly about his improvements in his training and how much he missed him. Even though they had already seen each other the day before, Mark couldn't help but miss the other boy terribly.
He was truly a lost cause.

They continued texting until William went to bed, bidding each other goodnight.

Even though Mark was still physically tired from his tiring day, he couldn't sleep. Tomorrow he would have to kill his father. It was true that all the love he could have for him had now been replaced by hatred, but it was still true that he was his father all the same. Could there have been another solution? Perhaps a more media-friendly one? Mark kept thinking about it, but every idea he came up with was flawed, and in every imaginary interaction with Nolan, he remained firm about wanting to conquer Earth.
He was therefore left with the conclusion that the only way to prevent Earth from being conquered and William from being caught in the middle was to kill his father. That way, the Viltrumites would stay away, and everything would go back to the way it was before.
And, most importantly, William would survive.

Mark was confident that with his strength and speed now almost on par with his father's, he would be able to beat him. He was certain of it. Furthermore, he would have the advantage, because Nolan would never have expected it.

 

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

 

The next morning, Mark woke up AGAIN to his father knocking on his door. And once again, before he could say anything, his father entered.

"Mark, wake up. We'll train again this morning. In the afternoon, we'll attack the Guardians, and you'll have to be ready. You mustn't underestimate them, and you mustn't hold back. You must eliminate them." he said heavily.

Mark didn't answer. What was he supposed to say?

Nolan seemed irritated by his son's silence, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Do you understand?"

Mark sighed. He hated every single second of this interaction. "Yes." he said dryly.

"Now hurry up and get ready." the other concluded, leaving the room the way he had entered a few minutes earlier.

Mark stayed in bed for a while longer, staring at the ceiling. "I won't kill anyone but you." he thought, then got up and went to get breakfast before going to wash up.

 

Like yesterday, they spent the entire morning training, but their main focus was on the fight.

Mark was significantly more agile than Nolan, but still inferior in strength by a few numbers. During their friendly sparring match, Mark continued to hit Nolan with all his might, as Nolan had explicitly told him he'd never get anywhere if he held back, but Mark always managed to parry and find an open spot. Sometimes, however, when he was really getting angry, he managed to catch his father off guard with the barrage of blows he landed. In those moments, he no longer fought cleanly and with control, as Nolan had taught him, but erratically. He no longer just punched, but also kicked and, only once, headbutted.
Whenever this happened, he always prevailed, until his grit faded, replaced by exhaustion, and his father easily overpowered him.

But Mark would make sure their final showdown didn't end that way.

 

Finally, the moment arrived. At 5:28 PM, Nolan and Mark headed to the Guardians' headquarters to set up the ambush that would get them out of the way. When they arrived, Nolan sent the signal for them to gather there.

Mark's heart was pounding. He was buzzing with anticipation of what would happen next.

When the Guardians didn't show up, before his father could put the pieces together, he would pounce on him and unleash all his rage on those punches and kicks he would deliver, aiming to disorient and ultimately kill him. Yes. Everything would go according to plan.

 

A few minutes passed. They were still alone. No sign of the Guardians.

It was time.

Mark glanced at his father from the corner of his eye. He was still, his gaze fixed on the empty space where their targets should be.

Perfect. He was completely distracted, he wouldn't have noticed a-

 

Mark was thrown across the room, slamming hard against the wall, leaving a crater with him still inside. He didn't understand what had happened, what had hit him. He only felt a dull pain on his right cheek. His vision was still blurry. He looked up and saw his father.

Nolan was floating in front of him. He looked at him with anger and disappointment. His arms were on either side, ready to strike again.

"You've deeply disappointed me, Mark," Nolan began "Did you really think I'd never understand that the reason the Guardians haven't arrived yet is because you'd already warned them?"

Mark's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, as if his body thought the slightest noise or movement would give him away.

"W...how did you...?" he rasped, disbelief and shock present in his voice.

"A person's hartbat increases only when they're excited, anxious, scared...or because they're hiding something." His gaze intensified. Mark was petrified, unsure of what to do. "The Guardians would never ignore an emergency call. When I heard your rapid heartbeat, I thought it was just the anxiety of having to kill them. But then I realized it wasn't that." He began to slowly approach. "You agreed to join me to conquer Earth. You would have become the Viltrumite you were always meant to be, no longer a weak, useless human." He spat out the last part in disgust, as if he were talking about nothing more than cockroaches.

Mark tried to stand up. He had shaken free of his tranny at those words. He was furious.

"I WILL NEVER CONQUER EARTH!" he shouted angrily, charging at his father at top speed.

But as he was about to strike him squarely in the face, his fist met resistance. Omni-Man had caught him before it could collide with masterful precision and calm, and held him tightly in his palm. Mark looked at him in shock. He tried to pull his hand from his father's firm grip, but was unable to. Then another blow struck him squarely on the left cheek.

Omni-Man released his hand, painful from the grip, and grabbed him by the neck, slamming him into the wall where he'd been thrown before.

"It was him, wasn't it?"

Mark couldn't breathe. He clawed at the Viltrumite's hand to try to pry it off and get air, but the other man was holding him too tightly. His heart was beating rapidly, as if it wanted to break free from his ribcage, push its way between his ribs, and force its way out of his chest. Terror had now almost completely replaced the rage he'd felt just seconds before. The thought that William might be in danger was coming true not only in his mind, but also in his reality.

"He convinced you that this planet is worth something. He's the only thing still keeping you connected to these animals." he said harshly. "If I eliminate him, you'll finally understand that there's nothing Earth can offer you." He finished sharply, before launching himself out of the structure at top speed, upward, until he was nothing but a speck.

No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

Mark gasped for air and coughed convulsively. He fell to his knees, holding his throat with one hand.
He had to get up immediately, chase his father, and stop him. He had put William in danger, all because he hadn't been able to stay calm. He had forgotten that their senses were more acute and those of humans, therefore, his father could hear his frantic heartbeat.

He stood up — his throat still hurt — and took flight himself.

If Nolan wanted to kill William, he would definitely have gone to his house, where he expected to find him.

His father didn't know William wasn't home, so when he arrived, he wouldn't find anyone, especially since his parents were still at work at that hour.

He arrived at William's house. The roof had been breached right in William's room. He went down through it, expecting to find his father disappointed at having found no one. But when he entered, not only had the boy's room been ransacked — the bed overturned, the closet overturned, all of William's personal belongings strewn across the floor — but there was no sign of his father in the room.

His heart didn't slow down, it incresed its beats once more.
He searched the entire house with his super-speed. Even William's parents' bedroom was a mess, not to mention the living room.

Mark couldn't understand where his father had gone. If he wasn't there, then where could he have gone?

Then he thought of something that made his blood run cold. What if, when he stood there, seeing no one, he realized that Mark had taken William to a place where he thought he'd be safer? What if he realized that William was in the Pentagon and that Cecil was hiding him? There really wasn't any other safe place he could have taken William, after all.

 

Mark's eyes widened in realization.

 

Mark hurtled into the sky at full speed, almost completely destroying the living room of William's parents' house and breaking the sound barrier. He had to get to William immediately, he had to protect him. He absolutely had to kill his father before he could reach him.

He hoped with all his heart that Omni-Man hadn't actually realized he was there and had gone somewhere else to look for him, perhaps to Antarctica or some random desert.

Mark was shaking with rage and fear. If anything happened to William, he would NEVER, EVER forgive himself.

 

And yet he should have been safe. He was in a room accessible only to Cecil and Donald; only they knew of its existence, no one else. Cecil would never betray him. He was trusting him. He was handing him the MOST IMPORTANT person in his life. He wanted to believe it with all his heart, he had to believe it.

Or he would kill whoever was with him.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when he arrived at the Pentagon.

The building was half destroyed; fleets of people were fleeing, frightened. It looked as if an asteroid had crashed into the structure.

Mark's fear had become reality. Omni-Man had obviously been there.

"SHIT!" Mark exclaimed.

He immediately flew inside and saw some guards also fleeing. He grabbed one of them by the arm.

"Where's Omni-Man?!" he roared.

"He— He's with Cecil!" he said, frightened. Mark tightened his grip.

"WHERE?!" he yelled. The guard screamed in pain.

"IN THE MONITOR ROOM!" He was shaking violently.

Mark let go, leaving everyone else behind. He hurried toward the room he'd been in a few days ago, where he'd seen all those computers showing his father's clips.
There, the room was half destroyed. The walls were dented and cracked. Donald was on the floor, unconscious. His glasses were broken, and his nose was bleeding.
Nolan wasn't there. Neither was Cecil.

CECIL! THAT SON OF A BITCH!

 

He rushed toward the white room he remembered at top speed, passing through the few walls that remained almost intact.

In there — in the white space — he saw it.

 

The door to the room where William was supposed to be staying had been smashed as if it were made of paper. There was no sign of Cecil.

 

OH NO! NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!

 

He ran inside and saw a scene straight out of one of his worst nightmares.

 

Nolan was standing there. Before him was William. A huge hole had gone through his body, his intestines spilling into the hole and onto the boy. A dark red puddle was forming beneath him, growing ever larger. William's face was frozen in pure terror. Those beautiful blue eyes had lost their sparkle and were staring at the ceiling blankly, unfocused.

 

"WILLIAM!" he screamed in anguish. His pupils had become small blak dots on his eyeballs, his skin grew pale and his hands didn't stop shaking.

 

It couldn't be true...
It had to be a dream. A horrible dream from which he would soon wake up; there was no other explanation.

 

He fell to the ground, kneeling before the corpse of the man he'd promised to protect. "William..." he whispered. "No...no, it is not possible... William, wake up!" Mark begged, shaking his shoulders. But of course he didn't wake up.
"It can't be true. No, no, NO!" he screamed desperately. He didn't even notice that he'd started crying irrepressibly and that his tears were falling down the other's cheeks. "I- should have protected you. I promised you-, you trusted me...and I let you down..." he tried to say between sobs.

"Stop it. You're pathetic. He was only another human." Nolan said sternly.

 

Mark lunged at his father, catching him by surprise. He began hitting him savagely, blinded by rage. He seemed almost possessed.

He slammed him against every wall in the building, until he hit the floor. Nolan tried to hit him back, but it seemed to be having almost no effect.
Mark, in fact, felt nothing but rage. The physical pain had been completely obliterated by the emotional one. He couldn't do anything to him.

 

He kept punching him until all he was hitting was the ground. Because of how hard he'd hit him, he'd dug into his flesh until he reached the earth beneath.

There was no trace of his face left, just a mess of red, bloody flesh where a few teeth and fragments of his skull could be seen. His eyeballs had fallen out of their sockets and landed in the middle of the mess.

At that point, Mark regained control. He looked at his father's mangled body with disgust and contempt, but he still wasn't satisfied.

He thrust his hand into the other man's still-intact chest and pulled out the heart, now frozen. He didn't care, though, as he squeezed it between his hands, causing it to burst. The blood still inside sprayed out, staining Mark even more.

 

Mark was completely covered in his father's blood. His face, hair, hands, chest, all covered in blood, still wet.
Mark's knuckles were cracked, you could almost see the bone. Under his suit, he was covered in bruises all over his body, especially on the sides.

But he felt nothing. Nothing. He couldn't feel anything, not even pain. Just anger.

 

He walked away from his father's body.

 

He had to find Cecil.

 

He slowly scanned the building, passing by the room where William was still lying. When he saw him, an immense sadness and grief overwhelmed him. He took him in his hands, holding him as if he were made of porcelain and would shatter instantly if he moved suddenly. Holding him close and careful not to spill what remained of him onto the pool of blood at his feet, he gently, very carefully, placed him on the bed. He gave him one last kiss, caressing his now cold cheek, and closed his eyelids to finally let him rest.

 

After he had made Cecil pay for revealing William's true location to Omni-Man, he would return for him.

 

He returned to his exploration of the remains of the Pentagon. There was only debris and bodies left under the rubble. Before, when he saw scenes like this, Mark would have felt saddened that he hadn't been able to save those people, but now he felt absolutely nothing. He was completely indifferent.

After a few more minutes of searching every corner of the place, he returned to the monitoring room, where he found Cecil talking to a guard, while behind him, Donald was being carried away on a stretcher. As soon as the guard who was talking to Cecil saw him, he pointed to him, calling him by his hero's name. Cecil turned, and though his expression remained impassive, a hint of fear for the boy was visible behind his eyes.

"Go, join the others." he said, turning to the guard, who immediately obeyed, then turned fully to Mark. "Mark, what happened—"

"Why?" Mark hissed in anger.

"I had to. Your father came in and destroyed everything. He wanted me to tell him where the boy was, or he would've killed everyone inside the building. It would have been the life of one or the lives of hundreds." Cecil explained calmly.

Mark remained silent. He was considering the man's words.

 

The life of one or the lives of hundreds... To Mark, the answer was more than obvious. He would never sacrifice William for anyone else.

 

He soon came to the conclusion that he didn't really care about the future of Earth, or even its inhabitants, but that he had always cared only about William. It's true that he still felt a certain affection for the place where he was born and the people close to him, but he would have sacrificed everything for William.

 

Mark continued to watch Cecil in silence, then, using his super speed, he grabbed Cecil by the neck, lifting him off the ground. The man was holding Mark's hand, trying to break free, but it was like trying to bend steel.

"I don't give a fuck about the people in this fucking building. You promised to protect William; you only had one fucking job. You betrayed me just to save some pathetic people's lives, letting an innocent person die." he seethed through gritted theet.

"You don't...understand..." Cecil tried to say, choking.

"No. You don't understand."

A loud crack came from Cecil's neck, and he suddenly stopped moving, going limp. Mark dropped him, then crushed his head with his boot, as if crushing a grape.

 

Then, as if he hadn't just killed one of the most important leaders of the American government, he retreated to the room where he'd left William.

 

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

 

Mark had to break the horrific news of their only son's death to William's parents. He saw them devastated, cursing him for causing their son's death, blaming him entirely.

They had to move, as their home had been almost completely destroyed by Mark and his father. They wanted to take William's belongings with them, but Mark begged them on his knees to leave them, as they were the only things that reminded him of his beloved. They didn't want to, but eventually they gave in and left their old home with all of their son's belongings.

Mark, of course, didn't blame them for hating him. He hated himself, too. He knew it was all his fault.
He should have kept his pact with his father, so William would still be alive. Even if he would have hated him, at least he wouldn't be 5 feet underground. Not a day went by that he didn't blame himself for not having done so.

 

When he told his mother everything that had happened, telling her the truth about her husband and her relationship with William, which he had kept secret until then, she couldn't help but feel betrayed, angry, disappointed, but above all sad. She felt not only that she had lost her husband — or rather, the man she thought was her husband — but also her own son, stained with the blood of his own father and his employer. She also couldn't understand why Mark hadn't been honest with her and hadn't told her he was dating William. She would have supported him, whatever his sexual orientation, and would continue to love him, because he would always be her son.

But things had changed; she no longer recognized him.

 

Days had passed since he had buried William.
All of William's friends and relatives had come to the funeral, including Mark, Debbie, and Amber, who was also a dear friend of William's. They were all sad, but Mark was almost worse off than anyone else. When it was time for the audience to give a speech in his honor, Mark couldn't speak, bursting into tears. He had to be escorted from the lectern by Amber.

 

Amber had always been there for Mark, calling whenever she could to make sure he was okay and hadn't done something stupid. She tried to cheer him up, to reassure him, telling him that William was in a better place, at peace, but that he would always be in his heart, by his side. Mark desperately wanted to believe it, but simply believing it wasn't enough; he NEEDED William back with him, by his side. Looking at him with those big blue eyes, smiling sweetly as he did every time they cuddled in bed, hugging him tightly like when Mark needed a reminder that everything would be okay, hearing his soft, gentle voice, the sound of which was like music to his ears, inhaling his sweet lavender scent.

 

Mark no longer lived in his childhood home; he had practically moved into William's room. He did nothing but lie on his old bed, wrapped up in the covers, and imagined William beside him, smiling sweetly at him, as he always did. Every day he got up only to visit William at the cemetery, spending hours there, crying. He always brought new flowers. He knew William loved sunflowers. For how many he brought, his grave was surrounded by them.

 

He no longer worked as a hero; he had retired. Everyone knew his true identity because of the mediaa, and he no longer cared about keeping it a secret. Only very rarely, when the opponent was too powerful, was Mark called upon to intervene. This was also the case when two Viltrumites, first Anissa and then Conquest, arrived to carry on Nolan's mission. He killed them both. He had a visceral hatred for the Viltrumites, so it was a pleasure to get rid of them.
He had promised William he wouldn't allow Earth to be conquered, and he had to at least keep that simple promise, even if he actually didn't really care anymore.

 

As for the Pentagon, Donald had replaced Cecil, deemed the most suitable to carry on his legacy. Everyone knew Mark had killed him, but what could they do? He was the only one capable of defending Earth if other Viltrumites came to claim it.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENT WARNING: smut, graphic depiction of corpse, gore, Maskless is a pathetic little bitch

 

Three years passed, during which Mark did nothing but lie in William's bed, but it had by then completely lost William's scent.
Sometimes Amber and Debbie would visit him at the cemetery, when they knew he was there, or at the abandoned house. Mark didn't talk to them much; he didn't have the strength, but they insisted.

 

One day, while he was alone, a green portal opened in the room. Mark, seeing it, immediately stood up, ready to kill anyone who came out. Immediately, an African-american man emerged from the portal. He was covered in scars, and his head was abnormally large.

"Hello, Mark." the man said.

Mark was certain he had never seen him before. "How do you know my name?! Who are you?!" Mark shouted.

"I am Angstrom Levy. I come from another dimension. I'm gathering Invincibles from other universes to help me destroy the world of the Invincible that has reduced me to this."

"And why should I help you?" he had no time for this.

"Because if you do, I can give you whatever you want in return."

Mark considered the man's words. Whatever he wanted... William. If he followed him, he could have William back. It was an opportunity he couldn't waste.

"Okay. I'll help you."

Chapter Text

They had all gathered in the room where Angstrom was monitoring the Mark that lived on the Earth they were about to destroy. Angstrom was in front of all the variants, standing on a metal platform where he carefully watched the monitors in front of him, while he waited for the return of the variant who had offered to retrieve the one who hadn't yet shown up. The others were crowded in front of him, impatiently awaiting the arrival of Sinister and Maskless.

 

"How long will those two take to get back?! Did they get lost on this fucking ship?" the variant with the Mohawk shouted impatiently.

 

"Well, it's a pretty big ship, they might have gotten confused with all the rooms in here." the one with the mask covering his entire face tried to reason.

 

"The one in the bee costume isn't that stupid to immediately forget the damn way to reach us. The other one I'm not sure." said Mohawk with a mocking laugh.

 

"But why was he so keen to go looking for him himself? We could have started without him; he certainly wasn't essential." said the variant with the Empire symbol on his shoulder. He, too, wasn't much loved by the others for his bratty four-year-old attitude, but he was definitely a step below the one without the lenses in the collective opinion. They all strated nicknaming each other and he had been labelled as the Emperor-wannabe for his continuos blabbering about how he became Viltrum's emperor and had a ton of slaves.

 

"Yeah, he's been acting very strange lately—" the Prisoner couldn't finish his sentence when a voice boomed from the corridor.

 

"It's not nice to talk about people behind their backs." said Sinister with a grin, entering the room with Makless next to him.

Sinister finally caught up with him when he was almost there, but did nothing else. He walked behind him, silent, staring at him from behind. If his stre could pierce a hole through Maskless' head, he would certainly have one on the back of his head by now.
Maskless considered turning around a couple of times to see what he was doing, feeling extremly uncomfortable, with every single hair on his neck being raised, but he absolutely didn't want to make eye contact with the other. Therefore he decided to try and ignore him, even though his counterpart's gaze was bound to give him goosebumps.

 

"Finally! What the fuck took you so long?!" shouted the veiled variant.

 

"Who cares? Are we starting this fucking meeting? I can't wait any longer, I just want to destroy this worthless planet and take what's mine!" Mohawk countered.

 

Everyone seemed to agree with what the variant had said, as no one else said anything, turning their gaze to Angstrom, who had abandoned the monitors, distracted by the arrival of the two variants.

 

"Now that you're all finally here, we can begin. As you already know, I asked you to gather here because I'd like to know what each of you wants as a reward for helping me wrestle with my personal vendetta against this dimension's Invincible. You can also take whatever you want from this universe, if you don't want anything from other dimensions." Angstrom said, sounding almost bored.
He didn't want to give them anything at all, but if he didn't keep his promise, they would surely kill him, and he needed their help.

The variants were silent for a moment, then a voice spoke up.

 

"I want this dimension's William!" Sinister announced, a wolfish grin plastered across his face.

 

The air suddenly tensed. All eyes were on Sinister, who had a smug smile on his face. He knew he'd get this reaction from everyone else if he'd said it first, and he loved feeling the ferocious glares of the variants directed at him.

Maskless, who was standing next to him, tensed completely. His eyes were wide.

"What the fuck did he just say?" was what everyone in the room was thinking, except Angstrom, who was shocked to hear such a statement.

 

"What makes you think you'll be the one to take him?!" shouted the Emperor-wannabe.

 

"None of you will have him! William is MINE!" shouted Maskless. He couldn't believe the other variants wanted William too; he thought he was the only one. He would never let any of them take him; they'd have to walk over his body before they could even touch him.

 

"I don't think so, you idiot! William, comes back with me!" replied Mohawk.

 

"I'll rip the head off anyone who dares take him!" demanded the variant dressed as a Viltrumite.

 

"You're all a disgrace to the Empire, you don't deserve him." interjected the variant with the mustache.

 

"Oh, and you're more than worthy, aren't you, little mustache?" the long-haired one said sarcastically.

 

"I'll kill you all if you come near him!" said the Prisoner.

 

"I'll never let you take him!" said Full Mask.

 

A crowd of Invincibles began arguing, all intending to take William with them or take him for themselves.

Sinister stood there watching. He knew a fight was about to break out between the variants and could only enjoy the spectacle.

 

Maskless and everyone else were at each other's throats, and it was only a matter of time before someone started a full-blown brawl.

 

Angstrom, on the other hand, was carefully observing the variants' attitudes.
It would be very helpful to know that they all shared a common weakness. He let them shout at each other a bit more before taking matters into his own hands. After a while, hearing the voices of other versions of your archenemy was tiring.

 

"Enough. If you can't decide among yourselves, then you'll have to decide another way."

 

"I say William comes back with me and the others take Eve or whoever the fuck they want." Mohawk replied.

 

"JUST TRY TO TOUCH HIM AND I'LL TEAR YOUR ARMS OFF AND RAM THEM SO FAR UP YOUR ASS THAT THEY'LL COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!" said Maskless. He was about to lunge at the other, but was stopped by one of Angstrom's spheres, which positioned itself between him and Mohawk, who was also ready to fight.

 

"You look like children. You're so pathetic. You could never take care of William." said the variant dressed as Omni-Man.

 

"You're literally dressed like our father, who definitely didn't get the Best Dad of the Year award. What makes you think you're the best option to take care of William?" Full Mask asked sarcastically, pointing an accusatory finger at the other variant.

 

"The fact that I'm the only one not making a scene like the rest of you."

 

"Please, you're just a cheap copy of our father. You don't even have a mustache." said mustache Mark.

 

"Sorry, buddy, but that mustache is awful, it doesn't look good on you at all, you look forty years older." said the Prisoner.

 

"HOW DARE YOU?! It's the greatest symbol of loyalty to Viltrum, and I don't care if you like them or not!"

 

"I don't even know why we're worrying about him taking William. Who would want to be with someone LIKE THAT?" said the variant with the mask covering his hair.

 

"He's really ugly, yeah, but you and the bald one are also terrible. Maybe if I punched you, I could improve your features." laughed lensless Mark.

 

"Enough! All you're doing is arguing among yourselves, wasting my time. If you don't decide right now who this 'William' will go with, I'll take care of it myself." declared Angstrom.

 

All the arguments died down on the spot at Angstrom's words. Some were about to shout an insult or a threat, but were beaten to the spot by Sinister.

 

"I propose we fight. We'll take William to the ship and after we've done what you asked, those who survive will return here to fight each other. The last one standing gets William." Sinister explained with a devious smile.

 

The other variants looked at each other. They were considering the proposal.

No one would ever give up William willingly, so it would actually make much more sense to force it. After all, only the strongest could ever deserve William. A second chance.

 

"Sounds like a great idea." Angstrom said with satisfaction.

It was perfect. This scum would eventually eliminate itself; he wouldn't even have to lift a finger. He would use them for his own plans, and then get rid of them by using them against themselves.

 

"Who's going to get William here, though?" asked Viltrumite.

 

"Me." Maskless replied immediately.

 

"And why you?" Mohawk asked, annoyed.

 

"I'm the only one here who most closely resembles the Mark of this dimension. If he saw one of you, he'd definitely be scared and never come here." he explained.

 

Sinister studied him carefully. He wasn't wrong. If they hadn't tricked William into thinking the one bringing him here was his Mark, then he never would have accepted, or worse, he might have alerted the Mark of this dimension.
It wouldn't have mattered if he ran away or resisted; he couldn't stand a chance against a Viltrumite. But it wouldn't have been a good start. And besides, it would have been a real pain in the ass if this Mark had stood in their way.

 

"That's true. And his costume is the closest thing to the one this Invincible wore; the differences are minimal. Plus, his personality and character are almost identical." Sinister said seriously. As much as he didn't want anyone else to get close to William, he also didn't want to ruin his plan.

He was close, very close.

He couldn't get this close to his prize and not get it in the end.
He just had to suppress his jealousy.
When William will arrive on the ship, they would finally be reunited.

He could already feel his stomach growling and his mouth salivating at the mere thought of tasting William in his mouth again.

 

"If it's a matter of costumes, mine is practically identical to the current one; I can take off my mask and go there myself. William could get suspicious if he sees 'him' wearing his old costume." Full Mask insisted.

He wasn't about to let another version of himself go get William. He needed him much more. He HAD to hold him in his arms again. He didn't know what his other self might do to him, but judging by his behavior earlier, he didn't seem to be able to control his emotions. He might get carried away by his feelings and hurt or scare William. He wasn't trustworthy.

 

Sinister and the others considered Full Mask's proposal. Indeed, he too might be a good candidate, but only if he took off his mask.

 

Maskless, on the other hand, wasn't happy at all. He was getting more and more annoyed.
HE would go get the love of his life. HE would be the first to see him again. HE would be the one who would stay by his side at the end.

 

"Then take off your mask. Let us see." Maskless said with a wicked smile.

 

Full Mask was taken aback by Maskless's sudden words. All eyes turned to him. He was starting to feel pressured.

 

He had always been a very shy and reserved person, which is why he had chosen to wear a mask that covered his entire face. William and his mother had always protected him and encouraged him to do and try new things. Thanks to William, in particular, he had made great progress, becoming more open with people and less shy. But since he and his mother died... all that progress was nullified.

Not leaving the house for two years, not even for his hero work, had worsened his shyness and social anxiety.
It's strange to think that the most powerful being on Earth was afraid to talk to people unless he wore a mask that made him unrecognizable.

 

His hands had started to sweat. Even though he didn't want to take it off, he HAD to convince them that he was the better option to find William first.

The mere thought of being able to hug him again calmed him instantly.

 

Full Mask took hold of the hem of his mask and removed it, revealing his face to everyone present.

He didn't look very well. He hadn't shaved in quite some time, nor had he cut his hair. In fact, he had grown a bit of a beard, and his hair had gotten longer. He also had dark circles under his eyes, the result of several sleepless nights spent crying or staring into space for hours.

 

The other variants seemed very surprised to see a version of themselves in that state.

Sinister looked at him impassively, studying him.

Maskless, on the other hand, smiled smugly.

"My costume is identical. AH. Yeah, sure. You didn't realize, though, that you don't look anything like us without that stupid mask." Maskless thought. (At this point, he looks like a fucking cartoon villain, it's too ridiculous.)

 

"You look nothing like our counterpart from this dimension. Your hair is too long and you have a beard. If you don't cut it, he'll have to go there." Omni-Mark said, emphasizing the last part with a note of disdain and jabbing his thumb in Maskless' direction.

 

"Yeah. You look homeless with that beard. How long has it been since you looked yourself at the mirror?" Mohawk asked, grimacing at the sight of the other..

 

"...uhh, two years..." Full Mask replied embarrassed, trying to avoid the judgmental looks of his counterparts.

 

"Two years!?" Prisoner exclaimed in astonishment.

 

"Ever since my William died, I haven't had the strength to do anything. I didn't even have the will to take care of myself." Full Mask defended himself, still looking at the floor. Just thinking about that time depressed him and made him realize how much he needed William in his life.

 

Some of the variants couldn't help but understand how he felt, stopping judging him and looking at him with understanding. They, too, hadn't been in the best of circumstances since the death of their universe's William.

Maskless's smug smile faded. He had been in the same situation and felt a certain compassion for him. He knew he wasn't the only one to lose his William, but he was equally certain that no one could ever match the amount of love and affection he felt for him.

 

Other variants, however, weren't as compassionate towards Full Mask, keeping their expressions serious or impassive. They continued to silently judge the variant.

 

"Well, if you don't shave off that hideous beard, you'll never get close to William." Emperor said impatiently.

 

"There are no ants or razors on this ship, so there's no point in wasting any more time with this discussion. I'll go get William and bring him here. End of story." Maskless said sternly.

He couldn't stand all this chatter anymore. As much as he pitied the other, he wouldn't let him go in his place.

 

"Yes, that's true. There's nothing that can be done." Omni-Mark said monotonously.

 

Full Mask didn't know what to say or what to do at this point. If he couldn't change his current appearance, he could never get close to William, especially not with the mask on.

He'd thought for a moment that he could go buy all the shaving supplies and then go to William's, but it would be impossible not to stand out in that costume, and he didn't have his civilian clothes. Going to his counterpart's house to get something to wear would be very risky, as someone might see him.

At that point, all his hope to find William first was quickly shattered

 

"Then it's settled. He'll go." declared Sinister.

Chapter Text

The professor's voice was becoming more and more like just another background noise. William had tried to concentrate, really, but his mind just wouldn't stop thinking about what had happened with Rick a few days ago. He hadn't been able to think about anything else since he and his boyfriend broke up.

It was pretty hard not to think about it, especially after being together for six months.

They'd gotten together a few weeks before Rick was kidnapped by Sinclair, and even though they'd only recently gotten together, they were pretty close.

They went on many dates together, especially bowling, since it's William's favorite, but also to the movies. Rick really enjoyed going to the cinema, he especially liked rom-coms and action films, carrying William along whenever a new film dropped.
William had always criticized him for his rather peculiar tastes, but deep down, he didn't mind watching some silly romantic films with him. He managed to make them enjoyable, especially when he took his hand during the movie and held it tightly.

William had never enjoyed going to the movies as much as he did with Rick.

After Rick suffered those atrocities at Sinclair's hands, William had been nothing but supportive. He helped him calm down when he had another panic attack after one of his now recurring nightmares, he was always by his side, never leaving him alone. He even accompanied him to his therapy sessions, spending his time—free or not—always with him.
Even though there wasn't much choice, since Rick had taken Mark's place in their dorm room, he never left his side, knowing he needed his help.

But despite everything, in the end, Rick wanted to end their relationship. He said that after what had happened to him, he didn't feel like staying with anyone; that he needed space and some time alone to better process what he had been through. But when he saw William's sad and disappointed expression (he had never been able to hide his emotions) at what he had said, he immediately reassured him, telling him that he could think of it as a simple break. That, as soon as he felt better, they would return to their previous relationship.

Anyway, William, had no choice but to respect his decision.

Of course, immediately after that conversation, he ran to Amber to tell her about it—or rather, to try to form comprehensible sentences while he cried and stuffed his mouth with ice cream on her couch. Throughout that whole, rather pitiful scene (in William's opinion), Amber did nothing but listen and try to comfort him, telling him that Rick just needed time and that everything would be back to normal very soon.

William, however, kept thinking that maybe it was his fault, that he had been oppressive, perhaps. Too present.

But he was driven to ask himself the same question over and over again:

How could he leave him after everything he had done for him?

At first, he truly thought he didn't deserve that kind of treatment at all, but then, thinking about it more carefully, maybe he would have done the same if he were in his place...
After all, he too was about to be turned into a reanimam by Sinclair, but, luckly, Mark saved him in time.

But if he had delayed saving him and he would have turned into one of Sinclair's monsters, then perhaps he would have reacted even worse.
Thinking this way he no longer felt too sad, even though a slight sense of disappointment remained. After all, they had been dating for six months, which was quite a long time, at least for him.

He was brought back to the present when everyone in the classroom stood up to leave. He hadn't even noticed that the professor had finished speaking and that he hadn't even heard everything he'd been explaining so far.
Fuck.
What will he do on the next exam?

William put his laptop in his backpack and also stood up to leave. He'd finished his classes for today, so he was finally free for the day, even though he'd have to make up for this last class alone.

————————————————————————————

He was now alone again in his dorm room. Given how things had gone between them, Rick decided to move back in with his parents, even though they were an hour's drive from the university. He certainly couldn't stay there with William after they'd broken up (or, as Rick suggested, "taken a break").
Yeah, William wanted to believe it, but he didn't really think they'd get back together, or at least not anytime soon. Would he still love Rick enough to want to get back together? He didn't know, but knowing himself, there was a chance he'd be persuaded by any extremely romantic gesture the other would make to get back together.

Oh, no, wrong. He meant "to conclude that period dedicated to his own personal reflections on life and other bullshit." He always gets confused.

He didn't mind having the room all to himself, though. It wasn't bad not having to take turns going to the bathroom.

He grabbed his things and placed them on his desk; if he wanted to catch up on an entire class, he'd have to start right away.

He had a looong night ahead of him.

Before sitting down, he also made himself a pot of coffee; he was going to need it badly, otherwise he wouldn't even have made it to evening without collapsing down his chair.

How nice it was when he didn't have to stay up all night studying and could take it easy? When he could stay up late watching TV series and stupid, cheesy reality shows rather than having to memorize the name of every single bone in the human body.

Well, he was the one who wanted to study medicine, so the blame for his suffering lies within him, he supposes.

William sighed, exasperated at the mere thought of having to stay up all night and then have to go to another class the next day again in the morning.

He won't make it to the end of the month, he was sure of it.

————————————————————————————

Four hours had passed, during which William had to drink eight cups of coffee every time he felt like he was about to throw out all his books and fall into bed so he could finally let his eyelids close, which were so close to closing on their own from exhaustion.

Before starting to study, not even knowing the topic (yes, he had no idea what the professor had said; thinking about his ex was more important, don't judge him), he texted a colleague, Brandon, with whom he'd spoken a couple of times when they'd sat next to each other by chance, exchanging numbers later to help each other. From that day on, they texted almost every week to exchange notes. He asked if he could send him his, and he gladly sent them to him right afterward.

If it weren't for him, William would have been ruined. They should have gone out more often; during their break, he should invite him for a smoothie (maybe he has had enough coffe for the rest of the year, his body had had enough).

He'd also added a few pages from the book their professor had recommended them to his notes, so he wouldn't leave out any information on the topic.

After all that time, he had to say he was making good progress. He'd managed to memorize most of the lecture. Luckily, the topic wasn't too complicated, and YouTube was a great help for certain things.

He deserved a break, yes. He'd earned it.

He rose from his chair to refill the jug with more coffee, but as soon as he stood up, a sudden headache struck. It was most likely due to all the coffee he'd drunk, or to the fact that he hadn't taken his eyes off his books in quite some time.
He decided to leave the almost empty jug on the kitchen counter and instead lie down on his bed.

He just needed to lie down and rest his head; he'd stay there for a few minutes and then get back to studying.

But as soon as he put his head on the pillow, his body immediately relaxed, as if it had been tense all along. He felt heavy, he didn't even have the strength to move to one side.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't think; he was focused on looking straight ahead.

The minutes passed. William didn't know how long he had been staying there, waiting for the pain in his head to fade, but he didn't want to start studying again right away.

The light bothered him; maybe if he closed his eyes, the headache would subside.

But before he knew it, however, he was already asleep.

————————————————————————————

*knock* *knock* *knock*

William woke up suddenly to the sound of someone knocking on his window.

SHIT.

He'd fallen asleep. What time was it?

The headache had subsided. He got out of bed and took his cell phone from his drawer, where he'd put it to avoid any distractions, to see what time it was. It was 9:23 PM; he'd slept for almost two hours and would have continued if he hadn't been woken up.

He was quite confused. Still groggy from his previous sleep.

*knock* *knock* *knock*

"William?" asked the person behind the window. His voice sounded nervous and rather urgent as he spoke his name.

It was Mark, that was obvious. The only person who could knock on his window could only be someone who could fly and reach the fourth floor of his building. And besides, the voice certainly couldn't leave any room for further doubt.

But what was he doing here?

It had been days (maybe two weeks, he doesn't remember) since they last saw each other. They'd continued to text each other occasionally, but only briefly, as they were both very busy, albeit for different reasons.

Their conversations always revolved around just checking on the other, what he was doing or had done so far, if there had been any news, and things like that.

They'd often tried to arrange to meet up for an outing, to finally spend some time together, but they never managed it. Something always happened that meant one of them couldn't be there, and in the end they simply settled for playing some games on their phones together, like their now-familiar Roblox (William didn't have the money to buy video games on his computer; it was all spent on the bare minimum to survive and on coffee - he hoped he wouldn't become addicted at that point, but he doubted it).

But anyway, if Mark needed to meet urgently to talk to him about something, he would have let him know in advance, so he didn't understand why he was here. He hadn't received any texts from him.

He hurried to the curtained window so as not to leave him waiting outside.

He pulled back the curtains, revealing the outside. The light from his room was also projected outside the glass, and thanks to it, he could barely make out Mark's face against the darkness of the surrounding sky.

He immediately noticed that Mark was without his mask and that his expression was very strange. He could bet he saw it change as soon as he saw him. He seemed oddly surprised and excited, his eyes widened at the sight of him, as if he could hardly believe he'd seen him.

He understood that they hadn't seen each other in a while, but perhaps it was a bit exaggerated to react that way.

William opened the window.

"Hey Mark," he greeted, stepping back to let him in.

As soon as Mark entered the room, he threw himself into William's arms, nearly knocking him backward. He hugged him tightly, almost taking his breath away, as if he might vanish in his arms as soon as he let go.

William, taken aback, tensed at first, but then hugged him back, patting his back.

He couldn't see Mark's face, as he was practically hiding in the crook of his neck, but he thinks he heard him sobbing and—

WAS HE SMELLING HIM?!

William was feeling very uncomfortable at this point.

What was wrong with Mark?? He'd never acted like that before. He could be a little clingy sometimes when he was feeling down, but he'd never sniffed him before!

He tried to break away from the embrace, but Mark didn't let go right away; instead, he nuzzled his cheek into the crook of William's neck, as if he were some kind of cat starving for affection.

A shiver ran down the chest-nut's spine.

"Mark, could you please let go of me now?"

Mark loosemed his hold. Only then did William manage to pull away.

Mark released him, taking a step back, but still staying very close to William, who, however, also took a few steps back. Mark's eyes were moist, you could see they were shining in the lamplight.
William didn't understand why he was crying. Was it for him or because something had happened to him? Plus, he was acting very strange. He was worried, afraid something serious had happened.

Maybe a bad guy had hit him so hard on the head that it changed his personality, who knows.

“William…” Mark whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He was looking at the boy with an intensity he couldn't fathom. He was the center of his attention.

It sent shivers down William’s spine.

“Mark, what's going on? You're acting weird.” He was worried, but the way he said those words revealed his uneasiness.

“Oh…sorry, Will, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…” he apologized, he looked at Will like a kicked puppy. “I…I've just been having a bad day and I needed to see you.” His voice was so soft and gentle it felt like velvet.

Maybe he was right, and Mark had his ass kicked by a villain.

Now that he'd made things official with Eve, he spent most of his time with her, not that he had any other choice since they worked together. But, of course, Mark was with her outside of work too, sometimes spending entire days with her on romantic dates.

If something had happened to him, the first person he'd tell would surely be her, as much as William hated to admit it (even though he'd done the same thing with Amber). So he didn't understand why he'd come to him for comfort first. Could something have happened between him and Eve, then?

"Well, I'm flattered you wanted to come to me, but what happened to you?" The concern he felt was more than evident.

Mark remained silent for a few seconds, looking away from William's gaze to the floor.

"...Well... I had a fight with... Eve..." he replied, sounding uncertain even in his own response.

The way he said Eve's name was rather bizarre, but William brushed aside his doubts, thinking that maybe Mark was just still a little shaken.

He was right after all. He must have done another one of his usual stupid things to fight with the girl. And it had to be a pretty big one to fight with her, too.

William knew her; they were good friends, and he knew she wasn't the type to take things too easily; in fact, she was always ready to listen to the other person and their side of the story. For her to argue with Mark enough to make him so emotional, something very serious must have happened.

"What happened between you two?"

Mark avoided his eyes again.

"I...uh...I don't want to talk about it right now." he said evasively.

William wanted to insist that he answer the question, he was too curious to know what had happened, but if the other didn't want to talk about it he had to let it go... for now.

Looking closer, however, he realized that there were other things wrong with him.
He wasn't wearing his mask, just his costume, only this wasn't the one he'd seen him wear lately; it was the same one as before. Also, his hair was noticeably a lottle longer, but that could be because he hadn't found the time to cut it yet.

“Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me right away if you don't want to, but at least tell me why you're not wearing your mask. I thought you cared about your secret identity. When I found out you were Invincible, you made a scene just because I joked that I'd tell everyone if you didn't take me flying, and now you're flying around without it?” William asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mark blushed slightly, probably embarrassed.

“It's so dark out that no one would recognize me, and I've never liked the mask. I only wear it because I have to…” Mark replied sheepishly with a smile.

Well, actually, William never really liked that mask either. The lenses were really ridiculous, they looked like bug eyes. And he was right, it was very dark, you couldn't even see the moon because of the clouds. No one would've ever recognized him.

“Hmm, you're right, actually. It's a shame the moon can't be seen tonight, though. Oh, well, never mind,” William said, shrugging. “Why are you wearing your old costume again, anyway? I thought you'd traded it for the black and blue one.”

“Uh…the last one I had got torn, so I had to put on one of the old ones…” Mark replied, still looking at the floor.

“How do you keep tearing it? Aren't you supposed to be 'Invincible'?” he joked, emphasizing his point by making quotation marks with his fingers.

Mark smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I should be, but apparently I'm not entirely.” he said. He had an almost nostalgic look on his face.

William laughed, earning a smile from Mark.

His moment of hilarity, however, was quickly ruined when the thought that he still had to finish studying popped into his mind.

It was moments like these that made him think of abandoning everything and going to the mountains to be a hermit.

Come to think of it, it wouldn't even be so bad: all alone in a little house lost in the greenery, living off his own vegetables. However, he doesn't believe that there's internet there; it would have been a problem if he couldn't watch Netflix up there.

"Is everything okay, William?" Mark's worried voice brought him back to reality. He must have noticed his change in mood.

"Fuck, Mark, sorry. It's just that I still haven't been able to finish studying what the professor explained in today's class. You know, all I've been able to think about is what happened with Rick." He confessed exasperatedly, holding the bridge of his nose with his right hand, while his left rested on his hip.

Mark stiffened, his expression darkening.

"What happened?" he asked, his tone icy.

Now that he thought about it, he'd actually forgotten to tell Mark that he and Rick had "taken a break." He didn't know anything.

He'd found the way he asked the question rather bizarre, though, as if he were angry that he'd mentioned the other.
As far as he knew, Mark and Rick had never argued; in fact, they were good friends. But why that reaction, then?

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you that Rick and I had, as he calls it, 'taken a break.'" His eyes rolled when he said the last part. "He said he needed space to think about what Sinclair had done to him, and that when he was better, everything would go back to the way it was." He finished with a sigh.

Mark was stunned. All the animosity he'd been exuding before quickly dissipated as William spoke.

"What an asshole!" Mark exclaimed, still looking astonished.

“Yeah. But, you know, I think I can understand that. Thinking about it, I think if I were in his situation, I'd want some space too.”

What he said shocked Mark. He was left agape, for some reason.

Was he afraid he'd move away from him?

“Oh…!” the Viltrumite exclaimed.

“Yes, I was really hurt at first, but now I think I've gotten over it. The only thing is, I'm not sure if I'll ever get back together with him. You know, if I'll still be in love…”

“William, Rick doesn't deserve you! If he just left you out of nowhere after everything you've done for him, then let him stay alone!” Mark declared energetically. He had immediately approached William and, as he spoke, held his hands cupped to his chest.

William was stunned by Mark's sudden exclamation, not expecting it in the slightest.

It seemed to him that perhaps Mark was a little too interested in his current situation with Rick. But what did he mean he didn't deserve him?

"Uh, okay, Mark... don't you think you're exaggerating a little?" William asked, removing his hands from Mark's grasp.

"No." the other said firmly.

He was really convinced, huh?

"Okay, well, I'm pretty tired, Mark, and I still have to finish studying, so it would be better if we talked tomorrow, when I'm not looking like a walking dead." William suggested, taking a step away from Mark, who immediately panicked.

He was afraid of being left alone or something?

“W-wait! How about we go for a flight before you get back to studying? Some fresh air will help you wake up better!” Mark tried to persuade.

It wasn't a bad idea at all… Mark hadn't taken him flying in a while, and he'd love to feel the wind in his hair again as it blew through the air. Besides, it would be better to accept the offer now that Mark himself is suggesting it; who knows when he'll have the same opportunity again.

“Hm…if you really insist…” William agreed with a sly smile.

“Awesome!” Mark exclaimed excitedly, grinning from ear to ear.

William had never seen him so happy when he took him flying; usually, he was always annoyed. Evidently, that fight with Eve had really changed him. Who knows?
When he feels better, he'll have to ask him what happened.

Mark took him bridal style using his super speed, holding him tightly against his body. The sudden movement stunned William for a second.

Immediately afterward, Mark came out, flying through the same window he had entered a few minutes earlier.

As soon as he was outside, William felt the cool evening breeze welcoming him.

They weren't flying too fast; it really felt like they were strolling in the sky. You could see the college below quite well, and William could see the city from that height.

“Do you want to see the moon?” Mark asked, smiling. His eyes were shining.

“Yes, that would be fantastic!”

Mark smiled like a child given permission to buy as much candy as he wanted at a store.

They climbed higher, until they reached the cloud dome above and passed through it.

William even managed to touch a cloud. He had always wanted to, imagining them to be as soft as cotton candy, but was disappointed when the cloud dissolved as soon as he touched it, like smoke.

Once they passed the clouds, they found themselves immersed in a vast midnight blue sky, studded with myriads of stars, the largest and most precious gem among them all being the moon, full and brilliant, like a beacon on a stormy night at sea.

Thanks to the clouds below, the light pollution from the city had no effect.

It was beautiful, a breathtaking sight.

William's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in amazement.

He had never seen anything like it. Whenever he looked up at the night sky, he could barely make out a few stars, but at this altitude, he could see many more with greater clarity.

“It’s beautiful…” he managed to whisper.

“Yes, it is.” Mark said. His grip tightened slightly.

William was completely focused on the moon in front of them and wasn’t paying the slightest attention to Mark. In fact, he didn’t see that he wasn’t looking at it at all, but at him.
He was the center of his attention once again, not that he hadn’t been before.

They remained floating there for a few more minutes, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the moment.

William felt all the accumulated tiredness and stress suddenly wash over him. He felt the same sensation as a few hours earlier, before falling asleep.

“Mark… I’m so tired, I feel like I’m about to fall asleep. Could you take me back to my room, please?” William asked tiredly.

“…Yes, of course… I’ll take you there right away…”

They began to descend slowly.

Mark's arms were unconsciously cradling poor William, who, despite trying his best to stay awake, just couldn't keep his eyes open. The warmth of Mark's body pressed against his wasn't helping at all; in fact, it almost felt like he was resting on a nice, soft pillow, rather than on his chest.

They didn't even have time to emerge from the cloud dome before William had already fallen asleep in Mark's arms.

Only when they had completely passed over them did the Viltrumite realize that the boy in his arms had fallen asleep.

————————————————————

Mark felt his heart clench at the sight of William in his arms, sleeping so peacefully.

Finally, he had him with him; it almost seemed unbelievable that they were together again.

He wanted so badly to hug him tightly and kiss him passionately; he didn't know how he had stopped himself from doing so the moment he saw him earlier.
He wanted to show him how much he still loved him, how he remained his one true love even after what had happened to him in his universe.

He knew it wasn't the same William, HIS William...but it was still him... Same look, same smell, same voice, the differences were minimal, perhaps only his personality was different. This William was more blunt and sarcastic, but Mark didn't care; he loved him anyway.

Even their attitude toward studying was identical! Oh, poor William. Always so dedicated to school, so much so that he didn't think about his own health and well-being.

The only thing he couldn't stomach, however, was that in this universe, William had the crazy idea of getting together with RICK. What had he seen in him here? Whatever universe it was, Rick would always be inferior to Mark, in every possible interpretation, even according to that of the Viltrumites.

Rick is just an annoyance. A small obstacle on his path to complete happiness with HIS William.

On the ship, he'd truly thought he could hold back, that he could even just be his friend, but now...having him in his arms again...let's just say he wasn't so sure anymore.
The only thing that was certain, though, was that he'd never let his counterparts take him. They didn't love him as much as he did, they were undeserving of his affection!

Speaking of counterparts, the Invincible of this planet was a real dumbass. On top of getting his ass kicked by every bad guy he faced, he'd let someone as perfect as William escape for...Eve?? Really? He'd understand Amber or Rex, but why Eve? That redhead in his universe was so annoying, he doubted she was so different in this one.

But maybe it was a good thing he hadn't gotten together with William; it would have been much more complicated to be by his side with him in the mix.

His thoughts were interrupted when Angstrom's spherical camera swung into view. A reminder of what he had to do.

Right. He'd almost forgotten. His variants are waiting for them at the ship.

As he flew to Upstate, he'd thought about taking William and escaping with him to a remote, hidden place so the others couldn't find them, but all his plans were dashed the moment he saw that same camera following him.

It was obvious; he should have known they didn't fully trust him. After all, they were all the same person; who wouldn't have done what he'd planned? They already knew.

Mark let out a deep sigh, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake William.

He didn't want to kidnap him, especially not to take him there. He'd surely be scared to death to find himself in that unfamiliar place, surrounded by psychopathic versions of his best friend who wanted him for themselves.
He especially didn't want Sinister anywhere near him. He didn't know what he could possibly do to him; he was unpredictable.

But on the other hand, his previous plan wasn't much better. He'd planned to suggest they go see the ship, lying that Cecil had lent it to him for a mission, but William might’ve never said yes, since he was tired. Besides, what would he’ve done when he saw everyone else?

Perhaps the best thing to do was simply take him there while he was still asleep, let him rest in peace while he could. When he woke up, he'd reassure him and explain everything; it was the least he could do.

Yes, it was the best thing to do; it had to be something less sudden. He couldn't risk giving him a heart attack.

He resumed flying, heading toward the space ship. He moved at a steady speed, not too fast to wake William. Plus, he didn't like the idea of returning immediately; he wanted to be alone with him for a bit more, while he still could.

When he got there, it would be hell…

Chapter Text

Anxiety, excitement, anticipation. All sensations felt by each variant on the ship. The opportunity for a second chance, to try again, to start over. The assurance that this time would be different. They wouldn't make the same mistakes they'd made in their universes before.

Now they were just waiting for William to arrive.

 

_____________________________________________________

 

They remained there, in the same room where they'd earlier argued with each other over who would have William. Angstrom was there with them, he hadn't moved. He had no intention of missing another show like that, especially when they'd decided to follow Maskless with one of his cameras.

As soon as he'd left, Omni-Mark had suggested sending a camera after him to keep an eye on him. He didn't trust the variant, and the others shared his concern: that he might run off with William and cheat them, leaving them empty-handed.
Each of them knew they would have tried if they'd been in his position. Alone with William, an entire planet and more at his disposal, the ability to maximize his chances of keeping the boy, avoiding a confrontation with the other variants and securing his own reward. Who wouldn't have thought of that?

Angstrom, however, had nothing to lose. He could only care if the variants ultimately eliminated each other immediately after destroying the nations of Mark Grayson's planet in that dimension. If it weren't for that, he wouldn't be so interested in the variants' ulterior motives.

For now, he'd enjoy watching them drool and fight over a common Earth boy. This was just one more revenge on his archenemy.

Now that he thought about it, the idea of ​​allowing the surviving variant to take that boy back to his universe with his Mark watching that unfold wasn't bad at all. It would be the cherry on the cake.

So, Angstrom sent one of his many cameras after him. There was no need for it to be hidden, stealthy, because he wanted him to notice, to realize that he had no chance of escaping the inevitable clash that would occur at the end of their task. He knew, deep down, that not many of them would survive with all those heroes trying to defend the planet, even if, admittedly, in vain. No one was truly as powerful as a Viltrumite, let alone an entire army.

What the camera captured was shown live on one of the largest screens in the room. Naturally, all the variants were clustered around there, tightly packed, even though there was a lot of space around them. Some, unable to get a clearer view of the screen covered by the other variants, some even taller and more robust, had to levitate a little higher to see what was being shown.

No one wanted to miss the moment the William of that dimension would be captured on camera. They were all curious to see him, to discover how different he was from their own.

Sinister, from his various interactions with his counterparts, had already gotten a taste of how certain variations of his William were completely different from him. But he was fascinated, intrigued. He wanted to know them all, touch them, feel them, taste them. He wanted to compare their flavors, to discover if they were the same or if they reflected their different personalities. Would it be more sour for the more rebellious ones? More bitter for the more serious ones? Stronger for the more resolute ones? Or sweeter, like for the more passionate ones? He was curious, really curious. Maybe the Maskless' William would be so sweet it would rot his teeth, who knows; from how hurt he felt, it seemed their relationship was extremely deep on both sides. A bit like that of the other, Full-Mask. He had mentioned his relationship with William. He seemed to burn with passion talking about it. His William was one of those who attracted him the most. So different, yet so similar to his own. He was a sociable, extroverted creature, one of those people who knew half the city's people, but could only remember the names of those who attracted him. He was always active, never still, eager to experience new things, to live. A creature almost the opposite of the version of himself he had spoken to.

His William wasn't the same, but he wasn't all that different either. He felt the same curiosity, the same desire to try new things, even if that desire wasn't as genuine. He and Sinister shared that same hunger, that same fascination with humans, their body, their limitations, and their mind. Together they had created beautiful memories, marvelous creations, works of art that still breathed before they were finished. He recalls with bitter nostalgia the exquisite dishes he prepared, how it seemed as if he had trained his whole life to make them, and indeed, that was exactly the case. The tender, delicate flavor of the meat, the warmth of the wine along his esophagus — those were the sensations he most treasured during dinners with William. But his favorite was when it was time for dessert. When William gave himself to Mark and he could sink his teeth into his soft, succulent flesh and taste it. That was his favorite flavor. It was intense, bittersweet, with the usual iron-like aftertaste, marked above all by a slight bitterness that reminded him of dark chocolate. Every day, his desire to savor that flavor that made him so addicted returned, stronger than the day before. His hunger grew ever stronger, but he patiently waited for the appointed moment.
But how much he wished it had never happened? How much he wished their fun had never ended? If only that damned expiration date had never existed.
His worst moments had perhaps been watching him begin to die, like a flower slowly withering. And in the end, what do you do? Don't you help him? Don't you save him from his suffering? That's what he told him, at least.

He couldn't think about it anymore. He shouldn't. By now his mind was clouded by memories, his rest haunted by nightmares. But now it would be different, everything would go as it was supposed to in his universe. No cancer, no premature death, no abandonment. He would savor William again, perhaps experience a new flavor. He couldn't make the same mistake of eating him whole like the last time he had the chance… He would cherish him, venerate him, adore him, make him his idol, his substitute. They would recreate the same memories he treasured so deeply, he would make him like him, like HIS William. The time to say goodbye would never come until he himself died. He would find a way to extend his life, this time. He only hoped that the technology on this dimension's planet was advanced enough. From what he'd seen, after all, his father's version of this universe had held back compared to his own.

The screen now showed the buildings of a large university campus. It was surrounded by a grove of trees and comprised of several structures. There weren't many people out there, just a few groups of people walking around minding their own business, not bothering to look at where Maskless had stopped a few meters above the building that was supposed to be used for student dormitories. He was scrutinizing every window with extreme attention.

"What's he doing? Why'd he stop there?" the veiled Mark asked impatiently.

"He's looking for William's room, genius!" the Mark in the Bulletproof-like suit replied, annoyed.

"Do you think he'll find him looking out the window or something? And how does he know he's at that university?" the Mark with the long hair asked sarcastically.

"We should have sent the other one, he's a complete idiot!" Mohawk exclaimed irritably.

"Maybe the William from his dimension would go there." added the Mark in the Viltrumite uniform, trying to reason with the other variants.

"It's likely." Omni-Mark said confidently. It had to be that way, because otherwise there would have been no point in going there.

His William wanted to go to college too, he'd mentioned it once. He said he wanted to be a surgeon. He also remembers how cute he was when he scolded him, telling him it wasn't a stupid dream. He was so stubborn sometimes. Like when he didn't want to give up when he and his father began conquering the planet... He'd given him the chance to save himself, to stay by his side, but he refused. Mark wanted to keep trying to reason with him, to convince him that the best thing would be if he accepted Earth's fate. His fate. One where he wouldn't need to study for a useless job, where he'd be happy in a house with him. He wouldn't have to do anything, just be with Mark. However, his Father didn't appreciate wasting time. William was wasting theirs, and now he had to die; the only thing that could be chosen was who would kill him. Mark couldn't disobey his Father, but he could at least be the one who would give his little pet a quick and painless death.

He truly thought he'd done the right thing, that he'd been good, but William's absence had weighed on him like a planet.

Then, however, came Angstrom's offer. A second chance.

This time, he wouldn't make the same mistake.

"Yes, but he doesn't seem to know which room he's in!" Mark in the tracksuit mocked.

Angstrom sighed in exasperation. He communicated with Maskless through the camera.

"Do you know where the boy is?" he asked into a microphone, his voice echoing from the monitor screen.

Maskless remained silent for a moment. Then he replied in an embarrassed tone.

"...no..."

Angstrom placed a hand on his forehead, massaging it in circular motions.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Emperor shouted, "WHO PROPOSES THEMSELVES TO PICK UP A PERSON WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING WHERE THEY ARE?! AND THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE ME?!"

Lenseless burst into laughter, finding what was happening hilarious. The other variants, however, had little to laugh about.

"What does this 'William' look like?" Angstrom asked in frustration, still with his hand on his forehead. He couldn't babysit now.

"Average height, slim, fair skin, blue eyes, chest-nut hair, and a hooked nose." Maskless replied, listing all the physical characteristics of his beloved William.

"I'll send the camera to find someone who matches a boy like that and then I'll show you which room he's in. Just make sure no one sees you." Angstrom said dryly.

Maskless nodded, saying nothing. He stood there waiting.

The camera quickly flew to the building's windows. He began peering into every window, searching for anyone who resembled the person Maskless had described. It was difficult to see inside some rooms because of the curtains, but with X-ray vision, he could barely make out the person inside.

"At this rate it'll take us all night. We're not even sure he's in the college!" said Prisoner.

He was tired of waiting. He'd been waiting for five years. He couldn't take it anymore. He was this close to being reunited with William, and they were wasting time following the intuition of one of them who seemed to have completely lost his mind a few minutes ago.

After William's death and his imprisonment, he'd realized that time was extremely precious. With the William of this dimension, he wouldn't make the same mistake he made in his own universe. He wouldn't be afraid of rejection, even if, given his current state, he wasn't entirely sure he could avoid it anyway... FUCKING VILTRUMITES! They'd turned him into a freak show, with all those scars and those veins so visible from the tortures. When he returned to his universe with William, he'd make them pay! He'd exterminate them all!

"He might not be there, that's true, but we don't know how different this William is from ours. If this is one of the places some of them had in common, then we should take a look." Full-Mask replied.

Prisoner and the others didn't argue. Full-Mask was right. If there was a chance he could be there, then they had to look.

But what he said made them all think about one thing: how different would this William be from theirs? Would he look different? Would his personality be different? Each of them hoped that the William of this dimension had at least something of their own, not just in physical appearance, but above all in character. They were willing to replace their Williams with another version of them, but not enough to let them go entirely. Proof of this was the fact that they had agreed to ruin the life of a variant of themselves just to be with another version of the person they loved most. But if they were honest, they didn't really care whether he was like their William or not. Some things could be taught or changed over time, and perhaps they could get used to the other's personality and character. It would be a new beginning.

The camera continued its task of identifying their wanted man, peering into the windows of every room. It had now moved to the fourth floor; the fifth showed no one who fully matched the identikit provided by Maskless. The boys who had been shown in the various rooms all had something wrong, something that didn't match. Whether it was their eyes, their skin color, their height, their hair color and haircut, or the shape of their nose.

The screen showed another room, also one of those curtained ones. It wasn't possible to see inside clearly, but at least the lights were on. Through a not-too-narrow chink, the figure of someone could be seen on a bed with dark blue sheets. They were sleeping, unaware of the sphere spying on them.

From their body, it was clear that it was a boy. His face was quite visible given his position. He had several features identical to those shown, but his height and eye color couldn't be clearly identified since he was sleeping.

The variations were astonished as soon as the camera focused on him. That person was extremely similar to their William, the only differences being the haircut and a few features that some Williams possessed in each dimension.

But otherwise, he looked just like their Williams.

"...He looks just like him..." Full-Mask stated softly.

"It's him! He's practically identical to the William from my universe!" Prisoner exclaimed.

No one could believe their eyes.

"Is he the person you're looking for, then?" Angstrom asked monotonously. The more time they wasted searching for that boy, the longer it would take them to begin their work.

"Yes. Yes, it's him." Viltrumite replied confidently. William's face was burned into his memory like an immovable tattoo, and who they were seeing was undoubtedly him. But seeing him so helpless, so still, brought back some very unpleasant memories.

Before he could be overcome by dizziness at the mere memory of that scene, Angstrom spoke.

"We can't see the color of his eyes. In all your universes were they blue or at least light?" Angstrom asked with a certain urgency.

"Yes, in every universe he had light-colored eyes! We already told you it's him, why are you waiting to tell that idiot!? We're just wasting time!" Emperor yelled impatiently.

Angstrom was annoyed by the tone of the variant, but he didn't respond with equal authority to avoid an argument or worse, between himself and the other.

"Don't you want to be sure it's really him? There's no point in picking someone at random just because they look like him."

"So? We'll just kill him if it's not really William, and then we'll keep looking." Sinister sneered. It was obvious that from what they were seeing, he was the William of this dimension, but if he was so worried, why not reassure him? He'd been holding back for days, he couldn't wait to kill someone, to hear their screams.
He would slaughter the heroes of this useless planet, and then it would be his counterparts' turn. The one without the mask would surely be first. He could already imagine the look on his face when he would take away his chances of ever being with William again.

Angstrom looked at him silently, saying nothing.

"Maya the Bee is right; let's see if it's him first, or we'll kill him," Mohawk smirked. "He's just another insignificant human anyway; if he dies sooner or later, nothing will change."

Hearing himself called that, Sinister felt his blood boil. No one could dare disrespect him, least of all a poorly crafted copy of himself from another universe. He still remembers how he killed those pesky insects in seventh grade. Their screams of pain and their pleas were so satisfying.

"Call me Maya the Bee again, and I'll bite off your windpipe and shove it right down your throat." he threatened in a low, cold voice, staring into the other's eyes.

The others seemed rather taken aback by the specific threat. But Mohawk kept his gaze fixed on the other.

He smiled with a wry grin. Things were getting rather interesting.

"I'd love to see...Maya the Bee!" he countered with a challenging grin.

Sinister gritted his teeth.

What was in front of the monitor before was now off to the side in the blink of an eye, in a flash of yellow and black. Sinister's hand was clamped tightly around the other's throat, who hadn't had time to move.

The yellow-suited variant showed no emotion through his frozen, motionless expression, but he seemed pleased to see the other barely breathing.

"Try saying that again." Sinister ordered with a smug smile. All his teeth were visible, like the fangs of a beast ready to bite its prey and kill it.

"Stop your pointless bickering, we're not done yet. Once we get William back and destroy the planet, you can kill each other." Omni-Mark said, irritated by the two variants.

Mohawk, however, maintained his defiant air, looking Sinister straight in the eyes. Even though the other's grip on his neck was nearly choking him, he would never give him the satisfaction of seeing him surrender. He could go fuck himself.

"Maya...the...Bee..." Mohawk gasped.

"Oh! He said it again! Kill him like you promised, come on!" Lenseless encouraged enthusiastically. He couldn't wait to finally see some action after all this time doing nothing. He had tried to start a few brawls with the other variants, but no one was paying attention anymore! It was a real bore! At least in his dimension there was Willy to entertain him — while he was still alive, that is. He sure knew how to hit him! The Guardians had been fun, too, even though they hadn't lasted as long as he'd hoped. What a shame! His father had told him they were the best, but he'd never seen such pathetic heroes. Perhaps the ones in this dimension will be better, maybe they'll even stand a chance against him!

The variants turned to Lenseless with expressions bordering on disgust.

"What the fuck...is the problem...with you?!" Mohawk choked out enraged.

The grip on his throat tightened even more as the variant urged Sinister on, as if his muscle memory had responded to a stimulus.

Because of the variant, however, Sinister lost the will to kill the counterpart he still had by the throat. He certainly wouldn't have satisfied that being who couldn't even have the right to share his DNA.

He let Mohawk go (though he had to admit he was extremely tempted to do what the annoying variant had told him). "This is just a waste of time," he declared, still angry, returning to his place in front of the monitor, which still showed the boy they assumed was William.

"Awww! I was really hoping to see you rip out his windpipe, but it looks like you can't actually kill him." Lenseless said, trying once again to rekindle Sinister's anger, perhaps even goading him into attacking him next.

But he ignored him completely, not even bothering to look at him.

On the other side, Mohawk had lunged at the other, hitting him squarely in the cheek and sending him across the room.

The variants around them moved out of the way of the cheap brawl between the two of them, who had done nothing but make the wait a living hell. Some couldn't help but feel satisfaction, however, in seeing Lenseless get hit. Almost everyone on the ship wanted to make him pay for all the times he'd annoyed or teased them, and now that someone had done it, they felt more at peace than before, like when the kid in the restaurant who'd done nothing but annoy them finally hit his head on a table. Others, however, were disappointed that someone had finally given him what he wanted, fulfilling his wishes. They hadn't expected anything from Mohawk, since every time Lenseless annoyed him and tried to start a fight with him, there was always someone else to convince him to let it go. But this time, it was different. Mohawk was beyond pissed at the other guy.

"You've done nothing but annoy me during this whole fucking wait, now I'm going to rip your fucking tongue out with my own hands!"

Lenseless laughed, almost hysterical. "YES! That's what I was talking about! Come on, hit me again! Show me how you'll make me pay!"

Mohawk gritted his teeth.

"STOP IT!" Angstrom's thundering voice came.

Everyone turned their attention to him, even Mohawk and Lensless, surprised by the outburst.

He'd done nothing but watch the pathetic scene unfold, thinking it would quickly resolve itself with the yellow-and-black variant snapping the neck of the mohawk-wearing one, but now everything had escalated because of that lensless madman. If he hadn't stopped them, they'd destroy his ship now, and he couldn't send them away without them putting his plan into action first.
They think he can't control them, lacking the means to defeat them, but they're wrong. They've practically shown him their only collective weakness, and he wasn't going to overlook it.

"Don't you want to welcome your guest right away? I thought you wanted him back as soon as possible," Angstrom said, his expression impassive, even though he was deeply pleased inside. "If you kill yourselves before he arrives, you'll never get to see him in person."

Angstrom's words seemed to have an immediate effect on the variants. Mohawk pulled away from Lenseless with a 'tsk', returning to the left side of the monitor to stare at the image of the supposed William.

Copies weren't enough anymore; he wanted the real one. After three years without him, surrounded only by humans who looked like him, he'd realized he'd only be satisfied with the real William. It had been nice to have a harem of "Williams" in his universe, but now he had the chance to have a real one again, and he certainly wouldn't let that opportunity pass him by. He especially wouldn't let copies steal what was his.

Lenseless pouted, getting back to his feet and walking toward the screen, saying nothing else, surprisingly for most of the variations.

"Tell him to go to that room. When he opens the window, we'll be able to get a better view of his face and make sure it's really him. If not, tell him to kill him quietly." Sinister said in a neutral tone, as if he were talking about something as ordinary as the weather.

Angstrom said nothing, simply panned the camera to where Maskless was still waiting, completely unaware of what was happening inside the ship in his absence.

Maskless seemed lost in thought as the camera panned to him before reaching him. When he saw it approach, he focused on it.

The camera adjusted to eye level, which was displayed on the monitor like everything else.

"I found a boy who resembles the one you described," Angstrom's voice echoed from the screen. "You must make sure this is the person you're looking for. If not, then eliminate him without being detected. No one must know you were here."

Maskless's eyes lit up at Angstrom's words, thrilled that William might be there.

"Where is he?" he asked urgently.

Angstrom guided the camera to the previous window, indicating Maskless to follow.

Once there, he stopped in front of it, hesitant.

"Is he really here?" Anxiety permeated his voice.

"Yes."

"AAGH, what is he waiting to break the goddamn window and come in?!" Emperor exclaimed impatiently.

"If he breaks the glass, he'll scare William! How do you think he'll agree to come with him?" Prisoner asked, annoyed.

"Who cares if he doesn't want to come or not! Just grab him and bring him here! He's only human, he can't oppose resistance." he replied confidently.

The room suddenly became very tense.

There were no sounds, only the sound of Maskless knocking on 'William's' window coming from the monitor. Almost all the variants' attention had shifted to the variant.

"What does that mean?" Full-Mask asked, astonished.

"What don't you understand? Humans are a lower species; insects compared to us. They cannot oppose our will." Emperor stated, as if stating a fact.

"What did you do to your William...?" Prisoner asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

But before he could respond, Maskless's anxious, urgent voice broke the silence, calling them back to what was happening on the screen.

"William...?"

At the sound of that name, the variants froze, as if whipped by the mere word.

They all stood still, frozen like statues, staring at the monitor, eager to see who would answer the call.

Moments later, the curtains covering the window were drawn back, revealing the boy's face.

Every single characteristic previously listed was present in his appearance. Before them stood a boy who looked to be 19 or 20 years old, slightly taller than average. He had pale, almost milky skin, sky-blue eyes framed by thick, long lashes, a hooked nose dotted with a few freckles, and short, wavy hair with a fringe that covered part of his forehead.

It was William. The William of this universe.

The variants in the room were completely captivated by the person before them on the monitor.

The same feeling they had felt in their universes when they were in the boy's company blossomed in their hearts, as if it were the first time they had laid eyes on him.

He was there. Really there. And it wasn't a dream, a vision, a mirage; it was the real William Francis Clockwell they had longed for since their owns were gone.

William opened the window of his room. A hint of concern appeared on his face and in his voice as he greeted the one he thought was his Mark, letting him in.

"Hey Mark."

When hearing their own name, the variants felt as if William was referring to them and not their counterpart, and the camera angle, which was completely focused on his face, didn't help. The camera was placed behind Maskless and blended into the darkness of the surrounding sky, making it almost invisible to the boy. The same couldn't be said the other way around, however, as William was completely framed by it.

Some variants were surprised that William was so calm as he saw the one he assumed was his Mark in the Invincible suit flying in front of him. It was clear that he knew the true identity of his planet's Invincible, but the same couldn't be said for some of his variants. Some Marks, in fact, kept their identities secret even from their Williams until the very end, only being forced to reveal themselves when their Williams died.

Maskless threw himself into William's arms, nearly knocking him backward, hugging him tightly. William seemed taken aback, but then returned the embrace, resting his head on Maskless' shoulder and stroking his back.

The action was quite annoying to the rest of the variants. They envied Maskless for the immediate contact with the other. How they wished they were in his place.

"Lucky asshole! He's with Will, while I have to be here with YOU." Mohawk said, emphasizing the last part with a note of disgust.

"I couldn't agree more, we all would have preferred to be with him rather than you." Prisoner retorted smugly.

This made a few others laugh.

"Shut up!" Mohawk exclaimed, returning to watch the two on the monitor.

William looked strangely uncomfortable now. Having been distracted by Mohawk and Prisoner, they didn't pay close attention to what was happening, but now they could see William trying to break away from the embrace, and Maskless not letting go, rubbing his cheek against him like a dog.

"What is he doing? Does he think he's a dog?" the long-haired one sassed.

"Mark, could you let me go now, please?" By his voice, he was clearly uncomfortable.

Mask let him go, though it was obvious he was reluctant. William took a few steps away from Mark, looking even more worried than before as he got a better view of the other.

"Did he realize that isn't his Mark?" Full-Mask asked in a panic.

"Shut up." Sinister ordered, his tone icy.

"William..." Maskless whispered, his voice sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

"Pathetic!" hissed Mustache Mark.

“Mark, what's going on? You're acting weird.” William asked. His tone was clearly creeped out.

"We're sending him because he looks more like the original, and then he turns out to be a complete idiot who can't even convince William that he's him!" exclaimed tracksuit Mark, exasperated.

"We didn't have many other options. If he doesn't convince him, he'll definitely find another way to bring him here." said Omni-Mark, his voice calm as ever.

"Oh...sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable... I...I've just been having a bad day and I needed to see you."

The others were shocked by Maskless' behaviour. They couldn't help but feel embarrassed by how their counterpart was behaving in front of William. Most of all, Emperor, Omni-Mark, Mustache, and Sinister could almost not believe how there could be a similar version of them.

William, on the other hand, seemed less uncomfortable, but more worried now.

"Well, I'm flattered you wanted to come to me, but what happened to you?"

"...Well... I had a fight with... Eve..." Maskless replied after a moment. From his voice, however, he didn't seem to bev so sure himself.

"I still can't believe he's me." Omni-Mark said, sounding almost exasperated. The mere thought of being sad over EVE disgusted him beyond belief. He didn't understand how his version of this universe could be with her.

"What happened between you two?"

"I...uh...I don't want to talk about it right now." he said evasively.

William didn't seem very convinced.

"As good as he is at pretending, he should be an actor." Long Hair Mark sassed.

"I swear." Tracksuit confirmed.

“Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me right away if you don't want to, but at least tell me why you're not wearing your mask. I thought you cared about your secret identity. When I found out you were Invincible, you made a scene just because I joked that I'd tell everyone if you didn't take me flying, and now you're flying around without it?” William asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's getting suspicious! I told you he wasn't suitable!" Full-Mask exclaimed annoyed.

"Calm down! He won't find out anything." The Mark with the mantis-eye lenses countered.

"It's so dark out that no one would recognize me, and I've never liked the mask. I only wear it because I have to..." Mark replied sheepishly.

“I don't know if that's the smartest or stupidest thing he could have ever said.” Mohawk said.

“Hmm, you're right, actually. It's a shame the moon can't be seen tonight, though. Oh, well, never mind,” William said, shrugging. "Why are you wearing your old costume again, anyway? I thought you'd traded it for the black and blue one."

“Uh…the last one I had got torn, so I had to put on one of the old ones…” Mark replied.

"How do you keep tearing it? Aren't you supposed to be 'Invincible'?" he joked, emphasizing his point by making quotation marks with his fingers.

"This William has the same bite as mine. How cute." Long Hair cooed.

“Yeah, I should be, but apparently I'm not entirely.” Maskless replied sheepishly making William laugh.

"His laugh is identical to my William's..." Viltrumite said nostalgically.

But a few seconds later, William's expression changed into a half-grimace, and he stopped laughing, as if he'd remembered something unpleasant.

"Is everything okay, William?"

"Fuck, Mark, sorry. It's just that I still haven't been able to finish studying what the professor explained in today's class. You know, all I've been able to think about is what happened with Rick." He confessed exasperatedly, holding the bridge of his nose with his right hand, while his left rested on his hip.

"RICK?!" Eperor exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and anger.

He remembers that insignificant being, how his William kept telling him how much better he was in comparison. He thought he was finally free of him, at least in his universe; he didn't imagine he'd find him in this one too.

"Who is this human?" Mustache asked, confused.

"In my universe, he was a mutual friend of mine and William's; maybe he's a mutual friend here too." Full-Mask said. He didn't want to believe that William was having an affair with Rick in this universe, he would have much preferred if it was at least his own version of himself at this point.

"What happened?" asked Maskless, his tone icy.

William looked confused and surprised for a moment.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you that Rick and I had, as he calls it, 'taken a break.'" His eyes rolled when he said the last part. "He said he needed space to think about what Sinclair had done to him, and that when he was better, everything would go back to the way it was." He finished with a sigh.

"WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?!" Emperor was furious.

"So in this universe William was with someone else." Sinister stated, bitterness and disgust present in his voice.

The other variants were equally astonished and angry.

"I'll kill him, that bastard!" Mohawk said, gritting his teeth.

"What an asshole!" Maskless exclaimed.

"Yeah. But, you know, I think I can understand that. Thinking about it, I think if I were in his situation, I'd want some space too."

"Oh…!"

“Yes, I was really hurt at first, but now I think I've gotten over it. The only thing is, I'm not sure if I'll ever get back together with him. You know, if I'll still be in love…”

"You'll never get back together with that bug! I'm so much better!" Emperor exclaimed.

"Dude, you know he can't hear you, right?" Prisoner asked.

"William, Rick doesn't deserve you! If he just left you out of nowhere after everything you've done for him, then let him stay alone!" Maskless declared energetically. He had immediately approached William and, as he spoke, held his hands cupped to his chest.

William was stunned by Mark's sudden exclamation.

"Yes, indeed!" Full-Mask said.

"Uh, okay, Mark...don't you think you're exaggerating a little?" William asked, removing his hands from Mark's grasp.

"No." Omni-Mark said. He too was getting carried away by his variants with the comments.

"No." Maskless said firmly.

"Okay, well, I'm pretty tired, Mark, and I still have to finish studying, so it would be better if we talked tomorrow, when I'm not looking like a walking dead," William suggested, taking a step away from Maskless.

"W-wait! How about we go for a flight before you get back to studying? Some fresh air will help you wake up better!" Maskless tried to persuade.

"I know what else will wake you up better." said Mohawk with a smirk.

"EEWWW, you look like a maniac!" exclaimed Emperor, receiving a glare from the other.

"Said mister humans-are-all-insignificant-insects-who-can't-stand-up-to-me." mocked Mohawk.

"IT'S TRUE AND THERE IS NO SEXUAL INTENTION IN WHAT I SAID!" shouted Emperor.

“Hm…if you really insist…” William agreed with a sly smile.

“Awesome!” Maskless exclaimed excitedly.

Mark took him bridal style using his super speed, holding him tightly against his body. The sudden movement stunned William for a second.

Immediately afterward, Maskless came out, flying through the same window he had entered a few minutes earlier. The camera moved due to the sudden turbulence. The screen now showed the two of them moving further and further away.

“Follow them!” Mustache ordered Angstrom, who glared at him but didn’t want to argue. If his plan was to succeed, he’d have to put up with them a little longer before he could do anything. So he had the camera follow them, staying a couple of meters behind them so as not to be seen by the boy.

Maskless and William moved further and further away from the college, flying a few meters below the clouds and above the myriad lights below.

"We told him to bring him to us, not go on a date with him." Cap-Mark said annoyed.

"Let's let him have his fun while he can. When he gets back, he won't have many more opportunities to do anymore things like this." Sinister retorted. "I'll make sure of that myself." he whispered menacingly to himself.

After a few minutes, Maskless's voice was heard again.

"Do you want to see the moon?" Maskless asked.

"Yes, that would be fantastic!"

"SO HE'S HAVING HIS ROMANTIC DATE WHILE WE'RE HERE WATCHING?!" Mohawk exclaimed angrily.

"As much as I don't like it either, there's nothing we can do about it now. After he's had his fun, he'll bring William here, and then it'll be our turn." Omni-Mark said confidently. He hated seeing William with anyone other than himself.

They climbed higher until they reached the cloud dome above and passed through it.

Once they passed the clouds, they found themselves immersed in a vast midnight blue sky with myriads of stars. At the center of that scenery was the moon, which was full and brilliant.

From behind, the camera couldn't get a clear picture of either of their faces, but when William began to look around, his amazement could be seen.

"It's beautiful..." he whispered.

The sight of William so happy made something flutter in the variants' stomachs. They observed the scene with great intensity, each imagining themselves in Maskless's place in that moment, with their own versions of how it would go next.

"Yes, it is." Maskless said.

They remained floating there, admiring the view, while silence reigned in the ship until someone spoke up again.

"He has to hurry! He can't make us wait this long!" Prisoner said, jealousy and envy the only things he felt as he watched his counterpart so happy.

"It's not fair that he's having fun with Willy while we're here watching!" Lenseless said sullenly.

A couple of variants were about to express their own opinions about what they were witnessing, but they stopped as soon as they heard William's tired voice coming from the monitor.

"Mark… I'm so tired, I feel like I'm about to fall asleep. Could you take me back to my room, please?"

"…Yes, of course… I'll take you there right away…"

"WHAT?! He really take him back there after all it took to find him!" Full-Mask exclaimed.

"What is he doing?" Sinister hissed, gritting his teeth.

"We had an agreement! He can't do whatever he wants!" Emperor exclaimed.

"As soon as he gets back, I'll kill him!" Mohawk said, clenching his fists.

They began to descend slowly. The camera continued to follow them from behind.

As they passed the clouds below, Maskless stopped. He seemed to have noticed something.

"Why did he stop so suddenly?" Bulletproof-Mark asked in surprise.

"You can't see from behind," Omni-Mark said. "Angstrom, move the camera so we can see both their faces."

Angstrom sighed. He kept repeating the mantra to stay calm and then get his revenge. He did as he was told and moved the camera to Maskless's left side, but not too close.

From that angle, both their faces could be seen, allowing the others to understand why Maskless had stopped.

The screen showed Mark with an expression of pure happiness, as if he had just won a prize, staring intently at the one he held in his arms, lost in thought. William had his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face. He was sleeping with his head resting on Mark's chest.

"He really did fall asleep at last..." the Mark in the Flaxan uniform said, surprised.

"How long has it been since he slept for falling asleep almost immediately after waking up?" the Mark in the tracksuit asked.

"He goes to college, obviously he stays to study at night too." reasoned Full-Mask.

"It doesn't matter. It's a good thing he fell asleep; he'll have no choice but to be brought here." declared Mustache.

"That's right. He won't be able to argue about wanting to come here or not." Omni-Mark stated.

"Of course, if only the idiot would move and bring him to us instead of just standing there staring at him!" Emperor exclaimed.

Omni-Mark sighed. "Angstrom, move the camera to his eye level."

Angstrom rolled his eyes angrily. He just had to endure the orders the variants dared to give him a little longer, and then he would begin his plan.

He did as he was told, moving the camera in front of Maskless's face.

He noticed it immediately, now turning his annoyed and bored gaze toward it. It was clear they had torn him from his thoughts and brought him back to reality. Reminding him of his true task.

Maskless sighed. He didn't say anything, just turned and flyed toward the ship at the same speed as before.

 

_____________________________________________________

 

Maskless glimpsed the ship. At that height, he had to hurry to enter or risk waking, or worse, killing, William due to the extremely thin air, given that it was at the end of the exosphere.
He hugged William tightly, shielding him with his own body as he flew at top speed toward the entrance he had exited earlier, always maing sure not to wake the boy he was holding.

They arrived quickly, barely a second later. As soon as he stepped inside, the large door separating the interior of the entrance from the exterior closed with a faint mechanical noise and a huff.

The entrance was empty, just a room slightly smaller than the one where they had gathered earlier, connected to a long corridor that led to the rest of the ship's rooms. The only light was a few red LEDs along the corners of the black and gray metal walls.

William seemed fine, breathing better now that they were no longer out there, and continued to sleep undisturbed, unaware of what was happening around him.

Makless was starting to feel guilty at this point. Doing something like this to William, even if it wasn't HIS William, was objectively wrong. It was as if he were breaking his trust, and he couldn't help but feel terrible for doing it.

However, he had to remember why he was doing it: to have William with him again. When he would find out everything, he would surely understand that he would be the best choice, considering the rest of the options. Even if he didn't love him (which was nearly impossible, given that he was perfect in every way imaginable, except for his cooking skills), he would still be by his side trying to be one of his closest friends, at the very least. He would NEVER let Rick get back together with him, though. In fact... he would just kill him straight away.

No, no, no, if William found out, there's no way he would ever forgive him or let him be close to him. He had to try to get Rick away from William in another way, a more cunning one…

The door opened again, letting in the camera he'd left behind. Even though it was extremely advanced, it couldn't fly at the same superspeed as Maskless, and besides, there was no need for it right now.

The camera flew toward Maskless and William, stopping just inches from the Viltrumite's face, who pulled away slightly annoyed.

"Follow it." Angstrom's monotone voice came from the camera, which began moving toward the corridor.

He didn't understand; if he brought William into the room with his variants, they would surely wake him and scare him, ruining everything. Angstrom wasn't stupid at all; he wouldn't let the variants ruin his plan for a mere boy. So where was he going to take him?

William whispered something unintelligible in his sleep, nuzzling his cheek against Mark's chest.

In that moment, Maskless could have died from how adorable William was.

Even though his brain told him not to, as it might wake him, his heart prevailed, and he brought his lips to William's face to kiss him on the forehead.

He was overjoyed. He felt his heart burst from the strong and profound affection he felt. He wanted to experience more moments like this with William now that he had him again, but the only thing that would stop him were his variants.
Or at least, until he eliminated them all once their mission was complete.

After a while, he too headed toward the corridor, following the camera just ahead of him.

They crossed half the corridor and then turned left and right a few times through other corridors, which led to various metal doors, until they stopped in front of a door with a sensor next to it for an electronic key to enter. This door was also metal, but unlike the others, this one had red edges with red LEDs along them.

The camera approached the sensor and, without needing a card, opened the door, entering the room. Maskless was right behind it, floating slowly within the space.

The room was very similar to the ones Angstrom had given them when they were recruited. The ceilings were high, the walls light gray, with red LEDs illuminating the corners. There was a twin bed against the right wall, with a black bedspread and white pillows. A full-length mirror on the opposite wall was next to a black wardrobe. Against the far wall was a black armchair, slightly turned toward the bed. In the middle of the room was a large, soft red rug on the floor. From the left wall, another door led to the space he could imagine was the bathroom.

Overall, the room was very tidy, and although it contained very little furniture, it didn't feel too empty given its size.

"What are you doing standing there? Put the boy on the bed and join the others in the previous room. We need to finish discussing the rest of the plan now that we've got what you wanted."

He absolutely didn't want to leave William alone. He was afraid that when he woke up, he might panic at finding himself in that unfamiliar environment. Or worse, his variants might come in here, and that was what he most wanted to avoid. But on the other hand, if he refused to leave William alone and go to the others, the variants would surely flock to them. In fact, now that he thought about it, that was the worst outcome that could have happened. If others besides him had to come in — and he was sure they would, knowing them — at least it would be one at a time. Yes, it would definitely be that way. None of them wanted another version of themselves underfoot while they were with William. After all, that was precisely why they had made that pact.

Maskless approached the bed and gently and carefully placed William down, making sure he wouldn't wake up.

He was so beautiful while he slept, even though he was every time he laid eyes on him. Despite the differences between him and his William, Mark was already starting to see him as his own. His beloved William.

He wanted to stay and admire him. Perhaps lie down next to him and hug him as he rested his face on his chest like a very large stuffed animal. He would fall asleep immediately by smelling his sweet lavender scent again and touching his soft chest-nut hair, stroking it gently. He would finally sleep peacefully. No more sleepless nights or dreams where he relived the time he found William lifeless, covered in his own blood.

But he couldn't stay there, he knew it, he understood it.

He turned reluctantly and followed the camera out of the room, casting one last sad glance at William as he left.

_____________________________________________________

Once outside, the door closed silently; Mark could only hear the swish of air displaced by the horizontal movement of the door.

"How can I know how William is doing? I need to know if he needs anything, if he's hungry or thirsty. If he needs me..."

"Relax. I'll take good care of him. He'll be fed and watered whenever he needs it. You and the others have nothing to worry about."

The camera turned and floated down the rest of the corridor, toward the room with everyone else.

Maskless wasn't convinced. Now he was even more worried. If he didn't trust his variants, he certainly didn't trust the one who'd recruited them to kill a version of themselves.

He put his feet on the floor, walking toward the camera to continue his private conversation with Angstrom.

"And how can I trust someone like you to take care of William while we're gone?" he asked suspiciously.

"Do you have any other choice?"

No. He had no other choice.

He didn't trust the others, not even himself, but if he had to — and he did — perhaps the least bad thing was Angstrom.

"I want the key to the room." Maskless ordered.

"You'll have it. You all will."

"Give it only to me! I don't want the others getting close to William." Maskless declared.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're not the only one who wants the boy, and you still haven't won the fight you all talked about. I can't deny the others access to your reward's room."

Yeah, sure. 'Their reward' his ass. William would be with him again and no one else at the end.

Maskless sighed in defeat. He didn't know how to argue. It was true that he couldn't deny the access to William's room to those he'd promised it to; if he did, the other variants would surely complain and threaten him. Plus, Angstrom wasn't the type to take sides, anyway, so even if he'd begged, he obviously wouldn't have done what he'd asked.

They continued walking toward the hall, turning down several corridors. The previous conversation was over, with nothing more to say on either side.

Now Maskless was simply preparing himself to face his counterparts waiting for him in the room.

 

_____________________________________________________

 

William slowly opened his eyes waking from his deep sleep, feeling much more rested. When his vision adjusted, he noticed something was wrong with his bedroom. There was a strange red light illuminating the room, coming from what he assumed were LEDs on the corners of the...metallic...walls...

What the fuck.

William's eyes widened. He sat up immediately on the bed.

This wasn't his dorm room. It didn't even look like a room for him.

He didn't know where he was. He was sure Mark had flown him back home yesterday after their hang out. What was this place? Where had he taken him?

It was obvious it wasn't his room either.

William thought more carefully about what had happened with Mark. Upon further consideration, Mark had continued to act strangely. Even though he apologized, saying it was because he'd argued with Eve, his behavior toward him wasn't normal. He was too affectionate and seemed to think carefully about every answer to his questions. Now that he remembered better, no longer confused by stress and tiredness, Mark's costume, even though he'd said it was the old one, had several details he didn't recall seeing before.

His spiraling thoughts were immediately interrupted by a deep voice that sounded remarkably like Mark's, coming from across the room.

"Well awake, William."

Chapter Text

Fear, a primal emotion, dating back to the earliest years of life on Earth. Everyone experiences it, from herbivores to carnivores, from preys to predators, from animals to humans. The feeling of being trapped, of being completely defenseless, of knowing you're incapable of defending yourself, of feeling your life threatened by something. This is fear.

 

And this was the first thing William felt when he saw who was with him..

 

He turned his head in the direction it came from, and he could never have guessed who he saw before him.

 

It was Mark — no, actually, it wasn't him...it didn't seem to be the Mark he knew... Or was it?

He looked the same, from what he could see, but even though everything seemed the same, it was completely different. The same raven hair with the usual crest, the same build, the iconic "I" of his costume. But the colors of his suit were completely different, only the black and yellow of the previous suit remained; there wasn't even any blue. One could almost say it was rather minimalist in comparison, if it weren't for the yellow cape attached to his shoulders.
His voice, moreover, was extremely similar to the one he'd heard millions of times and had memorized, associating it with the face of his best friend, but his was lower, almost cutting due to the slight hiss he'd just heard.

 

Could it be a doppleganger?

 

He'd heard and read several stories online about it, tellings of beings resembling some kind of lookalikes or ghostly doubles who took someone's appearance. Often, these beings weren't harmless and peaceful at all, but were actually evil, according to some, while others claimed they were spiritual beings, the sight of which was an omen of death or misfortune.

 

When he first heard about it, he'd thought they were silly urban legends or, at best, horror stories like 'Bloody Mary' or 'La Llorona', nothing he'd ever have to worry about. You might think that in a world where aliens and detective demons exist, you'd also expect to see ghosts or zombies, or believe in their existence, but he was extremely skeptical. He didn't believe it and never would.

 

Until now.

 

At that point, he had little choice but to believe it, or at least consider the possibility that they could exist. Even though dopplegangers almost always took the form of the same person who saw them, there was a chance they could also transform into somebody else to fool someone.

 

Could this be his case?

 

William didn't really want to believe it could be a doppleganger, though; it seemed too strange. After all, he'd never had any interest in the paranormal, so why was this happening to him now? And these encounters usually happened on the street or in certain places; you certainly weren't kidnapped.

 

No. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be a doppleganger.

 

So who was he?

 

As he spiraled into his thoughts, his heartbeat began to quicken. His heart was pumping blood faster and faster to his muscles, preparing him for flight or fight. He knew, however, that even if he tried to fight, he'd never stand a chance against the other, and if he tried to run away — and managed to evade the attacker before he could catch him — where would he go? He didn't even know where he was. Especially not if that strange metal door could be opened. It didn't even have a handle.

 

"Cat got your tongue?" 'Mark' asked smugly. It seemed his internal debate was entertaining him more than it should have, like a cat toying with its prey before killing it.

 

William flinched, as he's been whipped.

Hearing his voice again, he realized it was virtually identical to Mark's.

 

Suddenly, it was as if his ability to speak had been completely stripped away by a force greater than himself — by someone stronger than himself.

He stared at the other like a deer on a highway blinded by the headlights.

 

After a few more moments, which to him felt like an eternity, he spoke.

 

"You're not Mark..." he said softly, almost whispering. He'd said it more for himself, to remind himself that the person in front of him wasn't the real Mark, but...whatever he was; he was now almost completely certain it was real.

 

However, what he said reached the other's ears, who looked at him from behind his darkened glasses with great intensity.

 

'Mark' smiled, pleased, showing his teeth. William found himself staring at them. He found them weird, almost out of place. His sharp canines looked like they had been taken from the skull of a predator, designed to kill and tear the flesh of his prey for consumption. William couldn't help but imagine himself in the place of that hypothetical prey, torn apart by that creature's teeth, helpless.

A shiver ran down his spine.

 

"Oh, yes I am," 'Mark' confirmed; William frowned.

He didn't understand, was he perhaps a clone of his Mark? Did Robot, or Ruthy, clome him too and this one escaped and turned evil, or something?

 

"...how...?" William asked.

'Mark' smiled. "There's no point beating around the bush, so I'll just tell you." He rested his forearms on the arms of the chair, making himself comfortable. "I'm from another dimension. I'm not the only one. There are other versions of this universe's Mark in this place."

 

What.

 

"Satisfied? Whether you knew this detail or not wouldn't have made any difference, in the end, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't clear up all your doubts?" he finished with a grin.

 

He was dreaming. There was no other explanation.

 

Yes, maybe it was one of those dreams where you think you're awake, but in reality you're still asleep! It had to be!

 

'Mark' watched his reaction with satisfaction, as if seeing him in that state of rethinking every life choice he'd made up until that moment was fun.

 

William raised his right hand and brought it to his left arm, pinching himself.

 

He felt the pain of the pressure on his flesh.

 

He wasn't dreaming.

 

Mark burst out laughing.

 

That feeling of anxiety and fear he'd been experiencing just a few minutes ago began to grow in William again. He didn't know what would happen now.

 

Why were there variations of his best friend from other universes in his own? How had they gotten there? Was travel to other dimensions possible, then?

 

But, more importantly, what did he have to do with all this?

 

He was locked in a room with a variant of his best friend, who seemed to have a taste for sadism, and, to make matters worse, he was stuck in a place teeming with others just like him, if not worse, most likely with no escape route or communication with HIS Mark.

 

Awesome.

 

Was all this happening to him because he'd complained about studying too much? If that were the case, he'd revok everything he'd ever thought about dropping out. He'd rather burn his retinas on books and waste hours of his beauty sleep than get involved in whatever interdimensional superhero bullshit he'd been dragged into.

 

He had no idea why they'd taken him or what they intended to do to him. If they were Viltrumites too — and he was sure they were — then he was as good as dead. He was completely powerless against them; he couldn't even tickle them if he'd hit one. He just hoped his Mark would notice he was gone before it was too late.

 

"Did you really think this was a dream?!" Mark laughed. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. "You're so naive it's funny. Adorable, really."

 

So, first of all: asshole.

It wasn't his fault the situation he was in was so horrifying it felt like a nightmare.

 

"Where am I? What am I doing here?"

 

'Mark' put his right hand to his chin, as if carefully considering how to answer his question, not that it was too difficult to answer, anyway.

 

"Hmm... it doesn't matter." He rested his arm on the chair's arm again, smiling. "You wouldn't be able to escape anyway if that's what you're worried about. Besides, you're much safer here than out there."

 

"Bullshit! How could I be safe with you? You kidnapped me and locked me in here!" The fear he felt had been overcome by frustration.

 

"You'll thank us once you see the state the planet's gonna be reduced to. I just hope the heroes of this dimension are stronger than mine. It will be so much more satisfying to tear them in half." He sneered as if he were talking about something banal, like a joke.

 

But William didn't find any of this funny.

 

He felt a cramp in his stomach, as if his intestines were knotting with disgust and horror at the mere thought of all this carnage.

 

Did they want to destroy the planet? But why?

 

If what he'd told him was true, then billions of people were in danger. His parents, his friends, Mark, Amber… Rick… they were all in danger. And while he would be here, stuck, surrounded by evil versions of Mark, everyone he loved would be killed or harmed. And after them, it would be his turn.
Perhaps an even worse fate would befall him…

 

He had to try anything to escape, or at least inform Mark of what was going to happen. Even though a voice in the back of his head kept telling him it would be futile, he had to try. Otherwise, he could never live with himself, knowing he could prevent a genocide. Although he figured he wouldn't live long enough to think about it too much, given the situation he was in…

 

How could there be such evil versions of Mark?

 

Mark Grayson, his best friend, the one who wouldn't kill even if you begged him to, how was it possible that in other universes he had transformed into a cold-blooded killer? Someone who took pleasure in seeing people suffer.

 

The first hypothesis that came to mind was the influence of his father, Omni-Man, a Viltrumite who came to Earth to conquer it, and the best father of the year! He thought that in these universes, he had influenced Mark so much that he had become the perfect Viltrumite he had always wanted, convincing him to join him. But what further convinced the variants to accept?
But above all, what made them become this way?

He hadn't met the others yet (and didn't want to, even though he had already met one of them, the one without the mask. Thinking about it, he wasn't bad, certainly better than the one he was talking to now), but he already fared they wouldn't be that different from the one in front of him.

 

'Mark'...no, he didn't want to keep calling him Mark. If he kept doing that, the image of the real Mark would begin to blend with that of the other.

 

He wasn't Mark. He wasn't HIS Mark.

 

None of them were.

 

He exuded an aura of malice and sadism. He didn't seem human or a Viltrumite. He didn't even seem like Mark. More like a being wearing his skin to hide who he really was. Like a wolf wearing a sheep's skin to blend in with the others, and taking it off when it was time to hunt.

 

It was a figure that could be described in one word: sinister.

 

"And their screams!" he sighed happily. "You should hear them. They get so high-pitched sometimes. Even men!" he laughed. Again. "They sound like stupid little fags when they scream so shrilly. They always make things easier for me." He flashed a wicked smile as he said the last part.

 

William felt goosebumps on his arms.

 

"Why... Why are you doing all this...?"

"Why not?" Sinister said flatly.

 

But apparently he saw William flinch as soon as he said it, because a few seconds later he cleared up.

"I think you know that Viltrumites don't possess the power to travel between dimensions. And Robot, or Rudy, or whatever the fuck he calls himself here, has never been interested in creating a machine that would allow it. Even Cecil hasn't." Sinister shrugged.
"But maybe I can't really tell you about mine. Dear dad killed him before he could even get his beloved teleportation device built. I only recently discovered that the Cecils of my variants were obsessed with it. Some made significant strides with the technology, quite the opposite in my universe."

 

The only name that meant anything to him was Cecil. Mark had mentioned him a few times, complaining about how he treated him like shit, and let's just say William hadn't formed a good image of the man.

 

"So you can imagine we didn't come here alone." He smiled, pausing, watching William for a reaction, or perhaps simply to see him rack his brains, jumping from one hypothesis to another.

 

And he got what he wanted.

Although William noticed his slight disappointment when it didn't take him as long as he expected to find an answer. William already knew who it could be.

 

Mark had told him about almost all his encounters with supervillains since becoming Invincible. William himself asked him to tell him about them, curious and intrigued by his friend's life as a superhero. If he couldn't be like him, he could at least imagine himself in the same position through his experiences, even if, for certain things, he surely wasn't as convinced.

A couple of months ago, when Mark returned after a few days without being seen or heard from, during one of their rare phone calls when their free time coincided as if they were planets, he explained what had happened. He told him about a man, a certain Ang-something (he didn't remember, but he knew he was crazy) who had put the lives of poor Debbie and his brother Oliver in danger. Apparently, this guy wanted revenge on him for an accident that had disfigured him, or something, and had teleported them to a deserted dimension where he wanted to fight him, but in the end Mark killed him. When he told him about it, he seemed extremely shaken, kept repeating that he didn't want to, that it wasn't his intention. He also remembers hearing him cry on the other end of the phone and how his heart sank at hearing his friend so devastated.

 

If anyone could travel between worlds and hated Mark so much that he wanted to destroy the planet with an army of evil Mark Graysons, it was definitely him. Also because there wasn't much of a choice. Let's just say there weren't many people with this ability that he knew of, and from what he'd learned, no version of Cecil had ever managed to create a device that allowed it.

 

But Mark had told him he was dead. He'd told him he'd smashed his head in, that he'd become a mess of blood and brain matter on the sandy ground.

 

How had he survived?

 

"Mark told me about a guy he'd fought who could travel between dimensions, or something, but... he killed him..." William said hesitantly.

Sinister smiled wider, his lips pressed together in a thin line, making him even more unsettling.

 

"Your Mark should learn to check if his enemy is dead before claiming victory." he declared. "Oh, well, now he'll experience the consequences of his stupidity." He sneered.

 

He had no idea how he'd survived, but it was pretty clear he'd returned for revenge against him. But to even go that far? He was worse than a lunatic.

 

"Mark will beat him again! He's much stronger now!" William exclaimed, defending Mark.

"Oh, yeah?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, you gave me a better idea. If your Mark is really as strong as you say, then why not put him to the test?" he said with a wicked smile, leaning forward toward William.

 

Shit.

 

"I'll fight him personally. I'll rip out his heart and bring it to you as a trophy."

 

William felt his insides knot again.

 

No, he couldn't allow that.

 

He didn't know what this version of Mark was capable of, but if in his universe he could kill heroes with ease, as he'd implied, then perhaps he was as strong as, or even stronger than, Mark.

This time, Mark really risked not getting out of this with just a broken arm or leg. Maybe he wouldn't get out of it at all.

 

Sinister's words echoed in his head on a loop. He couldn't stop thinking about the implications of those words. The terror and anxiety were making him feel sick. And imagining the scene the other man had described certainly wasn't the solution to his growing nausea.

Reflecting on those words and the situation in general, however, he couldn't help but ask himself, finally: 'What do I have to do with this whole situation?'

'Why did they want to kidnap me? What use do they have for me?'

 

'What relationship did those versions of me have with them?'

 

Despite his darkened glasses, William felt the other's penetrating gaze on him. It was strange. It almost seemed like he was expecting something from William. A reaction, perhaps? Did he want him to cry and beg them to leave his best friend alone? To beg him on his knees to leave?

 

He didn't understand.

And maybe he didn't want to understand.

"What... What does all this mean?" William tried to sound as composed as possible, but his voice shook with every syllable. He hadn't even realized he was sweating until he felt a drop of cold sweat run down his temple.

 

Sinister seemed intrigued by the question.

He tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean? Explain." He was smiling, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

 

It was obvious he was playing with him, but he would never give him the satisfaction of seeing him crumble.

"W-Why are you so obsessed with me?" William swallowed. "What do I have to do with all this? What's so special about me that you kidnap me and keep me alive?" He clutched the bedspread in his hands.

The other man didn't answer, he was smiling, looking at him like William was a caged animal. And indeed, the difference between him and one was becoming increasingly blurred.

 

"Because you're William," he finally replied, with icy simplicity.

 

What the fuck did that mean?

 

"And what does that mean?!" he asked, desperate and confused, throwing his arms out to his sides in exasperation. He couldn't give himself all the answers he needed; that was Sinister's job, not his. So much for a gentleman.

 

Sinister looked at him placidly at first, then answered.

"You see," he rose from his chair, sending another surge of terror through William. "In every universe, you were a turning point for all of us." William tried to get as far away from the other as possible, backing away until his back hit the wall. His attempt was completely futile, as the Viltrumite had stopped less than a meter away from him in front of the bed. "You've become very special." He sat on the bed, bringing his face closer to William's, who was trying to steady his breathing, now latent in hyperventilation. But before he could say, think, or do anything else, Sinister's right hand closed around his throat. He wasn't squeezing, but the pressure of his palm made him realize that could change at any moment. "Maybe too special," he hissed.

The Viltrumite's hot breath hit his face.

 

William was afraid. Afraid of the hand holding his neck, afraid of the man before him, afraid of what was to come. His heart was pounding, but not only from fear, but also from something else, something he couldn't quite identify…

 

By now, the question that had blossomed in his head at those words was weighing too heavily on him.

He finally wanted to clear up all his doubts.

 

"...In your universes...what were we really...?" William asked softly, his voice no more than a whisper.

 

Sinister smiled, content with the question, as if he had been waiting a long time to give him an answer.

 

"Two halves of one thing, two lost people who found each other, two incompatible realities, a drug and a drug addict," he whispered close to his ear, voice husky and low. William shivered at the heat of Mark's breath on his sensitive skin.

 

William had fantasized many times about a hypothetical future with Mark as a couple.
In fact, he'd fallen into the more than predictable plot of the gay gu falling in love with his handsome, muscular, sensitive, funny, and charming straight best friend, and for years he had to try to suppress those feelings toward Mark so as not to ruin their friendship. Mark knew he was gay; William himself had told him after he discovered he liked men thanks to Omni-Man (that's also how he discovered he had a taste for dilfs and mustaches). To this day, he regrets making those comments about the man he later learned was his best friend's father and the traitorous superhero who wanted to conquer Earth. He could have understood it even when Mark made those faces of disgust at his comments about liking the older Viltrumite a little too much, in fact.
But, anyway, he never learned that his first real crush had been him, his best friend since childhood. For three whole years. And he would never know; William would take that secret to the grave.

Then Rick came along, tall, handsome, blond, muscular, sensitive, and charming. He took Mark's place, when his crush had almost completely faded, and he threw the last buckets of water needed to extinguish it completely. He was also the one who made him realize he may have a type.

 

Sometimes, when he was bored or saw Mark shirtless, he tought about what it would have been like if they'd gotten together, if Mark hadn't been straight and loved him back. He thought that, maybe, in another universe, they really were a couple; there had to be a version of Mark from another dimension who was gay. At least ONE.

But they were just idle scenarios. Dreams, imaginations, thoughts. Nothing that could be too concrete, and above all, nothing that could come true.

And he already had Rick.

 

He never would have imagined, however, that there was more than one universe in which he and Mark were truly a thing.

 

"But... Why did you want to take me? I'm not them." William paused briefly. He didn't feel like asking the question that had been bothering him ever since he had confirmation that he and these versions of Mark were something more in their universes. He was too afraid of the answer, even though he already knew it...
"What happened to your versions of me?"

 

Sinister released him from his grip, receiving a sigh of relief from the other. But that same hand rested on his thigh.

 

"Let's say that in every universe something went wrong. And you ended up becoming just a memory." He squeezed his leg lightly. "An obsession."

 

Had he really been that important?

But above all, why the thought of having meant so much made him feel good? As if he possessed some sort of control.

 

Did this mean they took him because they misses the versions of himself from their universes? Were they sparing him because he reminded them of their variants?

 

He plucked up courage and continued with his questions. Curiosity overcoming fear.

 

"How did I die in your universe?"

 

The Viltrumite removed his hand from his thigh and placed it on the bed, putting his weight on it, before answering simply.

 

"Cancer."

 

William was shocked; he hadn't expected it. Before he could say anything, the other continued. "Or rather, you would have."

 

The chestnut looked at him with a confused expression. He didn't understand what he meant. What did it mean, he would have? Did the chemo kill him?

 

"What do you mean?" he asked confused, yet still imbued with caution. He curled his legs up close to his chest, trying, somehow, to distance every part of himself from the other.

 

Sinister tilted his head to his left side, looking at William through those darkened glasses. Then he smiled. "He was very peculiar. The opposite of you. We were a great team." He chuckled. "But he was extremely stubborn. Nothing could change his mind. It didn't help that he knew exactly how to persuade someone..." He was silent for a few moments, his face still turned toward William, but he didn't even seem to be looking at him.
Perhaps this was the first time he hadn't been the focus of his gaze.
"You didn't want to die of cancer. You said you wouldn't allow it, or whatever." he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"So you asked me to kill you." His gaze returned to him.

 

William flinched as if he'd been struck by a sudden blow.

 

He'd asked him to kill him...?

Was he really that desperate?

 

William would never have imagined such a turn of events. Yeah, he imagined his death might be linked to Sinister after those cryptic words, but he never imagined that he himself would have asked him to do kill him.

 

But after all, they were different universes. His variants might have not even thought like him. They were completely different people.

 

He just didn't imagine he could be so crazy as to ask such a thing. And what did he mean by 'we were a great team'? Did hemean it as a cuple or was he refferig to something else?

 

Sinister spoke again. "It was the first time I felt...sad over someone's death. I haven't even felt anything when I killed my father."

 

William was shocked. A sense of dread slowly creeping in knowing that this versionof Mark was even stronger than Omni-Man. If could kill his own father without feelig any remorse, then he was perfectly capable of killing his Mark and every other hero on the planet without even breaking a sweat.

 

"It was also one of the best and worst moments of my life." Saying those last words, he took William's hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

 

William was overcome by fear again.

 

He shouldn't have been surprised that he had taken pleasure in killing him, but he couldn't understand why if he had just implicitly said he loved him. This certainly didn't reassure him at all. If he'd killed his variant without too much trouble, then he wouldn't have flinched at killing him too.

 

He tried to pull his hand away from the other's, but to no avail. He held him tightly.

 

He was about to have a full on panic attack.

 

Sinister smiled, though the curve of his lips didn't seem real. As if it were only a shadow of the real thing. "I didn't mean to hurt him too much; after all, I was doing him a favor." He leaned his body closer to William's, almost closing the distance between them, and thus increasing the other's fear and anxiety. He brought his face close to his. "I suffocated him." His breath caressed William's nose, who was trying not to show too much of his agitation, though it was basically impossible.
He hoped Sinister couldn't feel his heart beating so hard it felt like it was about to burst out of his rib cage, but he doubted it. Damn super hearing.

"Then I ate him." William's eyes widened in shock at the verdict. "Bite after bite. I couldn't stop. He tasted so delicious. I'd never tasted anything like him. You didn't even last three days before I'd devoured you whole. I only left his head intact, so it would look like you were still there with me. But let's just say I couldn't leave it completely intact because I was so hungry."

 

Of course.

 

So he was also a cannibal.

 

Of course.

 

Now he understood the presence of those sharp teeth so out of place, at first glance.

 

His situation was getting better and better.

 

Would he be next?

 

His fear seemed to be realizing itself when Sinister brought his mouth closer to the other's exposed neck. He felt him take a deep breath, as if he were smelling him. It reminded him of Mark - or rather, no, that wasn't the real Mark, it was clear by now, he meant his variant. the one from that evening.

 

"You would have scolded me again for not cooking the meat." His hot breath hit his neck, sending a shiver down his cold skin.

 

Was his version of himself a cannibal too? Or did this Mark just have a habit of eating any kind of raw meat? At that point, he wasn't even surprised if that were the case.

 

"I wonder if you taste like him..." he said low after a few moments of both being silent.

 

William panicked, dreading what he wanted to do to him.

"I-I don't think so. We're too different," he managed to say despite his fear. He tried to pull her hand away from his, but he didn't loosen his grip; he was still holding on tightly.

 

What did he want to do? Did he want to tear him to pieces? Would he tear pieces of flesh from his bones as if he were eating a chicken leg?

 

"I don't mind trying something new." he noticed his usual smile again. "Will you let me?"

 

The request actually surprised William, who had never expected the other to ask his permission to do anything. It had never happened until now, anyway.

 

He couldn't do anything. He couldn't run away, he couldn't fight him, he couldn't call for help. Even if he'd said no, he could easily have forced himself and would have done it anyway. He could only count on the fact that he didn't seem to want to hurt him, or at least kill him, since he asked for permission.

 

"...I don't- have much of a choice...do I?" he replied shakly.

 

He was terrified, but it was true that he had no other choice. He didn't stand a chance against a Viltrumite.

 

"You're right, you don't." He felt his breath even closer against his neck, tickling him slightly.

 

William closed his eyes, ready for whatever he wanted to do to him. His lips brushed his neck, but instead he felt his tongue licking him.

Another shiver ran down his spine.

Before he could think of anything else, however, he felt Sinister's teeth lightly bite his flesh. William yelped, surprised by the contact of his sharp teeth on his skin. But it seemed to incite the other even more, and he bit a little harder. It hurt, but his body didn't seem to mind, as pain wasn't the only thing he felt.

He couldn't believe he was enjoying the bite, but no matter how much he tried to tell himself it wasn't right, that whoever was making him feel this way was a murderer, he couldn't change the way he felt. And that made everything worse, as if he were betraying not only his ideals, but also Mark, unaware that a variant of himself from another dimension was biting him like a chew toy. He felt disgusting, his body was betraying him, and that made his stomach acid rise.

The pressure of his teeth grew stronger on his skin, until he felt himself being pierced. William cried out at the sensation of the other's teeth piercing his flesh. He felt a liquid soaking his neck, but he couldn't tell if it was Sinister's saliva or his own blood. He wanted to look, but he preferred to remain ignorant for now; he didn't have the courage to look.

The other's bite loosened, until he felt his teeth leave his now-wounded skin and be replaced instead by his tongue, which passed over the same spot where he had bitten. He was tasting him most, just like he wanted.

He thought he would pull away at that point, but instead he pressed his lips to the wound, kissing him tenderly. He didn't just touch that spot, however, but the rest of his neck as well, and William could only moan softly at the sensation of his warm, soft lips on his sensitive skin.

 

He felt strange; the action made him feel strange.

 

It was all wrong.

 

It had been a while since he'd had such contact with anyone, and the constant hours of uninterrupted study and college had contributed to the suppression of his libido. Feeling a similar sensation with someone again, however, was starting to arouse him faster than usual. He managed, however, to stave off a possible erection by continuing to think about the real situation he was in and, above all, by remembering who was giving him this "pleasure."

 

But his self-control faltered as soon as Sinister changed position.

While continuing to kiss and occasionally lick and nibble his neck, he moved closer to William, pinning him to the wall with his body. William still held his knees to his chest, in a futile attempt to protect himself, and soon that attempt was completely dashed when the other man spread his legs with both hands (finally releasing William's), placing himself between them.

 

William feared their 'tasting' session would turn into something much more dangerous, and especially that he might notice the tent forming in his jeans. His crotch was dangerously close to Sinister's, so close that it was almost touching.

 

DAMMIT, THIS COULD NOT BE HAPPENING!

 

He flinched as he felt Sinister's hands grip his hips and pull him closer. His grip would surely leave marks on him.

 

Sinister ran his tongue over his wound again, moving slowly, as if savoring him one last time.

 

That tent would be pretty hard to hide now.

 

"You're so sweet," he said, lifting his head and meeting William's gaze. "Maybe the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. I love how sour it is at the same time." He smiled. "You could almost compete with my William."

 

"Thanks, but no thanks." William replied, his breath shaking from the excitement he'd created. "I'm not interested in competing with him."

 

Sinister smiled, pleased. "I think you're perfectly capable, though."

 

Before William could argue, he felt Sinister's crotch rubbing against his, eliciting a surprised moan.

 

"You're just like him." He continued rubbing himself against him. "It'll only take a little time, and then you'll be perfect," he said hoarsely.

 

His words sent a shiver down William's spine, as he struggled to contain his voice. He hated the fact that he was enjoying himself, but now he really couldn't help it; it was his body's automatic response. Despite this, however, his brain was trying to process the other's words as best it could, since most of his blood was flowing elsewhere... At that point, his fear of ending up in an even worse situation was coming true.

 

Yet, with a strength he didn't even know where it came from, he pushed Sinister away from him and, to his surprise, the other actually moved.

 

"N-no! I'm not your William!" he exclaimed, staring into his eyes.

Would he have been credible enough with that red face and neck soaked in various fluids?

 

The other was looking at him with an incomprehensible expression, his smile gone. Was he surprised? Disappointed? Angry? He couldn't tell.

 

"I never will be."

His heart was pounding with nervousness and anxiety from his declaration. It hadn't made him angry, had it? He didn't say anything, he just stared at him. William was unable to understand what he was thinking, and it was making him anxious. Worse still, his friend down there showed no intention of calming down, and now the heat on his cheeks had become a burning sensation, compounded by his nervousness.

 

After a few long seconds of silence, Sinister chuckled. The sound of his mocking laughter echoed through the red room.

His laughter made him shiver.

"Do you really think you have a choice?" He didn't even notice Sinister's hand, whick snaked upwards, cupping his cheeks, forcing his face closer to his. "How cute. If you keep doing that, you'll make things easier for me." He hissed. "After I kill the me of this universe, I'll kill everyone else, and you'll be with me, forever this time. I'll make sure of that," he declared.

 

William felt his insides knotting up even worse than before. An intense dread blossomed in his stomach, like malignant cramps threatening to make him throw up his bile.

 

He was serious, then.

 

He would force him to stay with him. He didn't know what else he would do to him, and he didn't want to imagine it, but he just knew he had to try to prevent it.

 

But there was something else that preoccupied him the most.

 

Mark was in danger.

Real danger.

 

Because of him.

 

As for the others, he didn't know all the other variants of Mark, he didn't know for sure what they were like. But considering what they'd dragged him into, he couldn't care much about them... sort of... Let's just say the idea of ​​seeing versions of his Mark all killed because of him wasn't anything too light.

 

His consciousness could only sustain a very limited number of deaths, and that number hovered around absolute zero.

 

It was still true, however, that Sinister was one against who knew how many other versions of his best friend, so perhaps he would never be able to defeat them all if they allied. The only danger remained that HIS Mark might be killed. He wasn't entirely sure that if he asked his variants to make sure he didn't die, they would guarantee his safety. After all, they had come here at that guy's request to carry out his sick revenge, and it was also obvious they wouldn't have any qualms.

 

He couldn't count on anyone.

 

Or at least, not until he met the others in person.

Only then could he get a sense of them and understand whether they were truly cold-blooded killers or just desperate grieving bastars.

 

For now, he would have to handle this alone. He could only count on himself.

 

He lowered his gaze, avoiding Sinister's, who continued to stare at him with his now customary intensity.

"It's true... I can't resist physically... or in general..." He shifted his gaze back to the other. "B-but I want to offer you a deal." Anxiety and fear made him stammer as soon as he met Sinister's eyes again.

 

Sinister tilted his head slightly in curiosity.

 

"A deal?" he said mockingly. He wasn't taking him seriously. "Let's hear it." He released his aching cheeks, resting his hands on the mattress.

William cleared his throat. "You're not to get close to Mark and you're not to kill civilians. If you do, I'll..." he hesitated, he didn't want to, but he had no other way to protect Mark and the people of his planet, and if this was the only way... then it was his duty to try. For the greater good. For Mark's good. "I'll agree to... be with you..." he said softly, almost whispering.

 

He knew the other had heard him as before.

 

Sinister smiled smugly. "Sorry, I didn't quite understand, you're speaking too quietly. Say it again. Louder."

 

Was he being serious?

 

"I will agree to be with you." he said a little louder.

 

The other's smile widened.

 

Asshole.

 

"You could have started by saying this, rather than that bullshit." He raised his right hand, bringing it closer to his face. He was afraid he might hit him, but instead he cupped his cheek. "Why should I accept such an offer? I could get the same thing even if I didn't accept. I'd even have many more advantages with your Mark out of the way. I could spare the civilians, but they'd still die at the hands of the others. And where would be the fun?"

"That's where you're wrong. You want me to replace your William. You can force me, but that way you'll never get what you really want from me, which is my affection." Sinister visbly stilled for a moment. "Am I right?" He paused. "It may all be as you wanted on the surface, but it will never be real." He swallowed, saying those things out loud despite the fear was making his throat dry. "You know that too, don't you?"

Sinister remained silent.

 

It was working.

 

"If you were to kill my Mark -" the mere thought left him dreading the eventuality "I would hate you for the rest of my life." His breath trembled. "I would never love you. I might even attempt on my own life, and then you'd have no other me to pursue your desperate romantic plans."

His heart was pounding with anxiety. He didn't even know how he'd managed to say such provocative things. He was sure that if he hadn't been so special, he would have killed him by now.

 

What he said, however, seemed to have an immediate effect on the other, who flinched when he mentioned his hypothetical attempt on his life.

"...Fine. But in the end, you're coming back with me." It almost sounded like an order rather than an affirmation.

 

William let out a sigh, relieved that he had managed to convinve him, but soon the realization of what he'd brought upon himself hit him. All that relief immediately vanished, replaced once again by anxiety.

 

He had to come up with a plan to get out of this.

 

He had to find a way to warn Mark.

 

"...yes..." he replied softly, looking down.

The other grabbed his chin to force him to look at him. "I can't wait to pick up where we left off. It'll be perfect. You won't have to worry; I'll make sure of that myself." He said, voice low, tilting his head. He was getting dangerously close to William's face. "I promise I'll take good care of you." He was about to close the distance between them completely, connecting their lips in something William would have preferred never to happen, when someone knocked on the door.

Or rather, banged it as if they wanted to smash it open.

 

"HEY, TIME'S UP! GET OUT OF THERE!" shouted an extremely familiar, yet hoarse, voice from the other side of the door.

 

As soon as he heard it, hope blossomed in William's chest. He truly thought it was Mark coming to save him, but then he remembered that Sinister wasn't the only Mark out there.

What a disappointment.

But he was relieved and happy that he finally wouldn't have to be with Sinister anymore. It was true that he didn't know what would happen next, but he was almost happy with anything but another minute with him. He truly feared for his safety, but above all, what this dangerous proximity would lead to.

 

He was only left confused by the sudden exclamation. What did he mean when he said "time's up"? Did they make turns or something? Was it really that serious?

 

Sinister turned, looking at the door with a look of hatred and disgust, as if it had just insulted him in the most reprehensible way possible.

 

He made an almost animalistic sound, very similar to a growl (William wouldn't have even been surprised if it had actually been one), then turned back to William, releasing his chin.

 

His expression softened slightly. "We'll resume our conversation later." He got out of bed, and William's anxiety eased a bit.

Sinister walked toward the door, but before leaving (somehow. William still hadn't figured out how that sort of door could be opened), he talked again.

"Don't let anyone else touch you. I don't like when they touch what's mine."

 

The door slid open (that explained why there wasn't any door handle) with a soft metallic clang, allowing the other man to exit, who turned and walked out of the room, leaving William finally alone.

When the door opened, he could see another man outside, most likely another version of Mark. He immediately noticed the absence of shoes or boots, as the variant's feet were in direct contact with the metal floor. He was also wearing a sort of white and gray jumpsuit, very simple, without any symbols or anything else. He couldn't see his face, though, as it was covered by Sinister's body.

 

In any case, as soon as the door closed behind the Viltrumite, William jumped out of bed and ran toward the only door with a handle in the room, hoping to find a place to hide. He didn't want to just stand there, helpless, passive, waiting for another madman to enter the room and, who knows, lick his face or something. He just hoped there weren't any other Mark versions as psychopathic as Sinister.

 

He threw open the door and stepped inside, automatically activating the room's lights and immediately closing the door behind him. Unfortunatly there wasn't any key to lock it.

 

He took a closer look at the room.

It was a bathroom. Everything was clean, clear.

 

At least he could stay there, instead of on that bed.

 

The bathroom was extremely simple, just a sink with a mirror attached to the wall, and a toilet next to it. It was a stark contrast to the main room, as it was completely lit by an orange light coming from the ceiling spotlights.

It wasn't the best, but it was certainly better than nothing. And seriously, what could he have expected? It was already a lot, in his opinion, that they'd granted him the privilege of a bathroom.

He needed to clear his head and come up with a plan. But first he had to see what Sinister had done to his neck. He could still feel the burning of the wound and a damp sensation that made him feel chilly in the frigid room.

 

He hadn't paid much attention before, but now he realized how cold it was in there. Had they taken him to Canada or Siberia? Or maybe Antarctica; there, surely, no one would be able to see them.

 

He went to the sink to look at himself in the mirror and inspect his neck, and what he saw wasn't pretty at all.

The left side of his neck was completely stained with his own blood. Sinister's saliva, mixed with the crimson liquid, shone from the ceiling light, and he soon noticed that the blood was still slowly seeping from the wound. As for the bite, he couldn't really tell how serious it was, since it was covered completely covered in blood.

 

Damn, he looked bad.

 

From his reflection in the mirror, he also noticed his condition. He had slight bags under his eyes, the result of several nights spent studying and catching up on mornings of missed explanations; he was clearly tired, even exhausted. All of this would simply add to the pile of problems he already had.

 

He looked like a wreck. He had to admit that he hadn't had much time to take care of himself, and that he'd often gaslighted himself in believing he was fine.

When he looked in the mirror in the morning and noticed the dark circles under his eyes that were starting to become more visible day by day, he reassured himself that he wouldn't be the first, nor the last, college student to have them. After all, almost everyone was in the same situation as him; it was normal.

But now, seeing himself better, no longer rushed to get ready for class, when every previous problem had been overshadowed by whatever was happening to him, he realized that a break certainly wouldn't have hurt.

 

He only hoped the added stress he was being subjected to wouldn't make it worse...

 

But still, it wasn't the time to think about such things.

He turned on the water and took off his shirt to keep it from getting wet. It was quite difficult trying to remove it without touching the wound, and when he moved his left arm too much, it would hurt again.

He finally managed to remove it, though his attempt to keep it free of blood failed; apparently, the collar had gotten stained.

 

Without the shirt covering him, he felt even colder, and the water hadn't yet warmed up. He couldn't wait — he didn't know how long it would take — so he immediately began rinsing the wound as quickly as possible to avoid spending too much time in the freezing water. The cold of the room was compounded by the temperature of the water, and it wasn't long before he began shivering and his teeth chattering, a meager attempt at warming himself, initiated by his own muscles.

He ran the last of the water over his neck; by now all the blood had been washed off, along with the residue of saliva, and now he could better see the state of the bite.

 

He shivered at the sight of the deep teeth marks on his skin. They were actual holes, just as he had imagined.

Immediately afterward, more blood began to seep out slowly, creating small stains. William turned the faucet back on and quickly washed himself with more water.

He had to find a way to cover it, or it would continue to bleed.

 

He searched everywhere in the cramped room, but there wasn nothing that could be useful, there wasn't even a first-aid kit or a simple band-aid. Nothing. The only thing he could have used was a towel, but he couldn't keep it on all the time like a scarf. Another thing he could have used was toilet paper, perhaps. It wouldn't have helped much, but at least it was better than nothing, and besides, he didn't have anything else he could use.

 

Before reaching for it, he dried his damp neck with a towel.

 

He needed to hurry; he was freezing.

He took the paper roll and used the paper as a band-aid, covering the wound by twining it around his neck and shoulder. Afterward, he pressed down lightly to try and stop the bleeding as mush as possible.

When he removed his hand, it seemed to have worked, fortunately. Sure, the red dots of blood that had stained the paper were visible, but at least it wasn't bleeding like before.

 

William grabbed his shirt and carefully put it back on. The light fabric provided very little warmth, and the fact that it was short-sleeved certainly didn't help with the freezing cold he felt.

 

Come on, how could he have known he'd find himself in this situation?! If he'd known, he would have surely dressed better.

In reality, he would have taken refuge in a bunker.

 

He thought he could warm up a bit by crawling under the covers of the bed in the other room, but he refused to come out.

He'd rather freeze than go through something like that again.

 

He sighed, defeated, looking at his reflection in the mirror again.

 

It was crazy. He still couldn't believe what was happening to him!

First he was in his dorm sleeping, then 'Mark' took him flying (and there he could have put the pieces together), and finally, he woke up in some sort of well furnitured metal cage with a psychotic version of his best friend sucking him like a juice box and threatening him.

What had he done to deserve this?!

 

Whatever. Before anyone else could come in, he had to come up with a plan.

 

He considered his position. He tried to piece together his memory from when he'd woken up in his dorm until now.

Thinking about it, Sinister hadn't actually been the only version of Mark he'd seen. Before him, he'd met that weird Mark who'd kidnapped him from his dorm under the pretense of taking him flying.

Well, he'll have to remember not to accept any more similar proposals from Mark so quickly.

He hadn't been too bad, he'd been kind, though he still remembers when he sniffed him like a dog, which made him feel very uncomfortable.

 

Maybe he could have used the malleability he'd shown with him to his advantage.

Maybe he could have convinced him to let him go.
Sure, he'd have to make a fool of himself to do so, maybe he'd even have to make a few more awful promises, but in the end, if he could communicate with his Mark, everything would work out for the best and he would return to his usual routine…

 

But…

 

NO.

It shouldn't be forgotten that he was thinking about a group of assassins. They had even allied themselves with Angstrom simply to help him get revenge.

 

…Was he really the only reason they had accepted his proposal?

 

His heart began to beat a little faster.

That same feeling, that of having a certain power over such powerful beings, blossomed in his chest in the form of warmth.

 

Now the cold seemed more bearable.

A part of him whispered that this was finally his chance to fulfill his old desire to be with Mark, not as a friend, but as something more, something special. He would be seen the same way Mark saw Eve, finally. But another part screamed at him to move on. As much as he would have liked, he couldn't and shouldn't give in. They had come here with the goal of destroying the planet on the orders of a psychopath, and they would kill everyone in their path, even the people closest to him. Even Mark and Amber.

Even Rick…

 

There were still some contrasting feelings regariding his ex, however. He hadn't moved on from him yet as it had been seen and he was still looking forward at getting back togheter with him if he asked him (but only with a big gesture, of course, he wasn't that desperate to get back with him immdiatly). Yet he also didn't want to come back with him after the way he had dumped him. He wouldn't have ammitted it out loud, but it still bothered him a little, even though he knew it shouldn't.

 

Anyway, it was also true, however, that he had seen that they were not all the same. He had confirmed this with Maskless.

 

Perhaps he had a chance to escape.

 

He would play along, for now. He would try to squeeze as much information from whoever came in next and find a way to escape and warn Mark.

 

Yes, he could do it. It wasn't a complicated plan, he wouldn't have any problems if he pretended well.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the faint metallic clank of the door again, followed by a series of uncertain footsteps advancing into the room.

 

"William...? Are you okay? Are you in here?" someone asked from the other end.

It was the same Mark he saw earlier.

His voice was scratchy, hoarse, as if he'd just woken up.

His tone sounded genuinely concerned, and, again, if it weren't for the obvious difference between his and this Mark, he would have truly thought it was him.

 

He didn't want to answer, but it would have been kind of obvious anyway taht he was there. He couldn't go anywhere else, after all.

 

William wanted to tell him to leave him alone, but objectively he couldn't stop him from doing anything at all. He could practically just blow through that door. And besides, if he wanted to successfully carry out his newly conceived plan, then he would have to start well.

 

He plucked up courage. He took up a position behind the door, slowly opening it, allowing himself a crack to peer through.

He leaned his head closer to the crack and glanced at whoever was outside.

 

What he saw left him speechless.

Out there, in front of the comparatively thin door that separated them, stood a sort of veiny, scarred tank, at least 20 centimeters taller than him, with muscles so tense and pronounced they seemed about to tear the almost entirely useless fabric covering him.

But what surprised him most must have been the individual's face. He was bald and, like the rest of his body, marked by scars and veins. He couldn't see his eyes, however, as they were covered by darkened lenses, similar to Sinister's. He, however, wore neither mask nor costume.

 

So, to say he didn't feel conflicted about how to feel would be a lie.

 

Let's just say that that same part of himself that told him to 'take a chance' now seemed much more convincing...