#thragg invincible

Leaving you alone on the surface of the moon made Thragg feel uneasy. He knew you were safe—there were no living beings on the small, desolate rock apart from the ones he himself had brought there. And even if there were, you wouldn’t die. Nothing could really take you from him, yet he would’ve rather kept his place there with you. But you wanted to be left alone, and he respected that. Despite his own feelings, despite what he wanted, he respected your wish. He flew back to the ship, not in a hurry. He had some reports to check, but no urgent matter to take care of. Now that they had abandoned every outpost but Earth, now that they weren’t openly at war with anyone, his days had become much slower. Much more empty. Yet his mind had never been so full, so divided.

He had found himself staring outside more and more often, reading the reports over and over again to keep his mind occupied, to avoid going back to the matter that was the most urgent. The matter of the heir. He knew his inability to act was detrimental, he knew he had to do something. But he did not know what to do. On one hand, he… was the regent. He was supposed to hand over the throne to its rightful owner. But such owner was a traitor, he didn’t deserve to sit above him.  And even if Nolan wasn’t a traitor, would he really be a good Emperor? He’d always been a good soldier, before coming to Earth. Some saw him as a hero amongst them—strong, resolute, loyal. Thragg himself had often relied on him in the past—Nolan was one of the strongest and most trustworthy that had ever walked on Viltrum. Always sticking to his word, always doing what was good for the Empire without question. Which is why he had sent him on Earth. Because he trusted him, above almost anyone. And yet, Nolan failed their people. Nolan failed him. How could such a man be worthy of the throne, of being the Emperor of the Viltrum Empire? He could not, was not.

Despite that, your words kept on repeating in his mind. Annoyingly. Nails digging into his palms as your voice repeated the same things over and over again in his head. You can be whoever you want, you had told him; what use is an Empire anyway? and so on and so forth, a blur of words that he could not manage to forget nor ignore. And the fact that he could not push them away made him feel uneasy. You had such a different point of view on the situation; he should’ve dismissed your words so easily. But he couldn’t, no matter how much he tried to. How vexing.

And how all this made him feel, all those thoughts, those uncertainties. He felt small, just like when he was but a kid, afraid to die. Powerless, despite being the strongest man in the whole universe. Despite holding the power to take a decision, paralyzed to do so. Pathetic—had Argall been still alive he’d be so disappointed in his indecision, his hesitance.

He had thought about killing Nolan’s son. He should have killed him, alongside the slave that had found out the truth. Destroy all the evidence, and no one would ever find out about anything. And yet he didn’t. He let them both live, even going as far as to share such a grave secret with you.  Just months before he wouldn’t have hesitate to kill them and throw you in a hole—yet he wasn’t that man. That man that had ruled over Viltrum for so long wasn’t anymore. He had changed—he was changing, and he was way too aware of that. A spectator in his own body, letting feelings guide him in ways he’d be ashamed to admit out loud. How afraid he was of his changing.

Minutes, then hours passed as Thragg kept on running in circles in his mind, going nowhere. The stars blinking beyond the glass, nothing but silence keeping him company. Have you come back yet? he wondered—he couldn’t see the spot in which you were from the throne room’s window. He chose to go there to be alone with his thoughts for that reason, too. You were enough of a distraction without him seeing you. But now, now he wanted to check on you. He knew his mind wasn’t going to make any reasonable decision, not today, so he might as well indulge in your presence. While you wouldn’t be able to help him, he still found himself enjoying your voice as you blurted out things that had neither head nor tail regarding his problems—and he enjoyed it even more when you lost yourself in talking about the stars and the food and all the trivial things you liked so much.

He had expected for you to be in your shared chambers, maybe ready to nag him again, yet he only found your outdoor suit there. He wasn’t too concerned, although it pained him a little that you hadn’t gone to find him when you came back. Granting, you probably were still upset about him not letting you go back on Earth. As much as he didn’t like the thought of you being angry at him, he couldn’t help but smile the tiniest smile to himself as he pictured you pouting somewhere by yourself on the ship.

He’d decided to head to his General to have a talk with him—on one of the rare occasions he was on ship for more than just a handful of minutes. He wanted to discuss with him how to address the problem with Anissa— she still refused to find a human mate, and who could be better than Kregg? The man who, by now, was expecting close to ten hybrid children, and more were likely going to be on their way soon. But things didn’t go as he planned.

As he entered Kregg’s office, the last thing he expected to see there was you.

You were there, eyes wide as you turned to look at him before trying to look unbothered. And he didn’t miss the way Kregg himself tensed up as he saw him enter, quickly assuming his usual pose: straight, hands behind his back and an unreadable, serious expression. «Grand Regent,» the General acknowledged him, bowing his head deeply. «Hi,» was all you said. «I had come here to talk about a matter regarding our mission on Earth, General, but I seem to have interrupted something now, did I?» Thragg inquired, talking to his man despite his cold eyes staring straight into yours. He could tell something wasn’t right from the moment he had stepped in—the way you looked guilty, the way you were curling your hands into fists to avoid fidgeting with them as you did every time you were nervous.  He knew. And realizing—knowing what you had done… «I merely met her when she came back from outside and wanted to catch up.» Kregg replied, stoic as ever. Thragg’s gaze moved upon him, humming. «You have always been a good liar, General, but you tend to squint your eye when you know you’re lying.»

In a fraction of a second, Kregg’s eye widened in surprise—but even such a small movement wasn’t as fast as Thragg as he threw himself on the other man. The General found himself slammed against the wall behind him, Thragg’s hand tight around his neck and the cold metal bending under their weight, yet not breaking—the Grand Regent having kept his composure enough not only not to kill him instantly, but also to not tear the ship apart either. «OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE, YOU HAD TO GO AND TELL HIM, DIDN’T YOU?!» Thragg screamed, his bloodshot eyes turning to look at you, a snarl on his lips. «I didn’t!» Desperation and fear oozing from your words as you stared at the two of them for but a moment, then rushing to them.  What could you do? Nothing. Thragg knew that. And yet, as Kregg tried and failed to breathe—his face slowly turning red, then a sickly blue color, he wasn’t the one who was trying to fight him. No, Kregg didn’t try to free himself, didn’t move a limb. But you did.

You tried to pull Thragg’s hand away from Kregg’s neck, all the while crying and screaming and begging for him to let Kregg go, that he was killing him, that you really didn’t say a thing about his secret, and so, so many words that he could hear yet not process. His ears were ringing as he stared down  at you—unable to feel your hands on him as you’d started punching him, desperate to free the man he was killing. Yet he couldn’t feel a thing as he saw that you were breaking your own bones against him, your fingers bending in ways they shouldn’t be able to, flesh and blood and tears falling onto the floor as you kept on punching him to no avail. Then, some of your blood splattered on his face. And he felt its warmth. Such an insignificant, little thing. But he felt that, its pleasant heat against his skin. And he let go of Kregg. Were he to wonder why he did that, he wouldn’t be able to find an answer.  Kregg crumpled to the floor—were Thragg not detached from reality as he was in that moment, he’d hear his General cough and struggle to breathe, curling on himself as you rushed down on your knees to check on him, speaking reassuring words and trying to help him out however you could. Yet he couldn’t hear any of that. All he could do was watch the scene unfolding at his feet, his mind blank. Frozen.

The first thing he noticed was the blood under your fingernails as you moved your hand in front of his face. Then he heard your voice, asking something he deemed silly. «Are you there?» Of course he was, where else was he supposed to be? He blinked a couple of times, realizing he was still holding his arm up in front of him, and relaxing it. Bringing his hand down his side, looking at the mess you were. Your eyes red and puffy, filled with concern. For him? That would have been absurd. Your suit was more red than white now, and as he lowered his gaze he could see there was blood all around the two of you. Your blood, yes, he remembered. And it was on him, too, staining his clothes. He didn’t reply to you, merely moving his gaze to look at Kregg. He was standing, arms crossed to his chest. His eyebrows pressed together in… worry? No, it had to be fear. He wanted to kill him, didn’t he? He tried to—Kregg’s eye red from all the blood vessels that had exploded as he choked him, a deep purple bruise already forming around his neck.

«Thragg, can you hear me?»  His gaze moved back on you, your hand still annoyingly moving back and forth in front of his face. «Of course I can.» «Good,» you muttered, before stepping away from him. Moving to stand next to Kregg. «You almost killed him.» «And I should have killed him. And I should kill you, too,» Thragg spat, his rage starting to bubble up inside him once again now that he was coming back to his senses. Yes, he was remembering it now. His fingers curling into fists as he felt them growing warmer, his teeth gritting together as he stared at you. You had betrayed him. Before you could speak, Kregg moved his hand up to stop you. «She didn’t utter a word, Grand Regent.» His voice feeble and raspy, each word coming out hurting his already battered throat. «You should know me better than to assume I would not notice the way you changed after Nolan’s son was saved. I merely put two and two together, she was the only person I assumed might know the truth already. And it seems I was not wrong.» «Which is why I should get rid of you two, you-»

«With all due respect, Grand Regent,» Kregg cut him off, Thragg’s eyes growing wide from such insolence. «Considering where we stand now, I could not care less about Argall’s bloodline. My loyalty does not lie in them or in our Empire as much as it lies in you. Which is why I needed confirmation to know what was going on. Because if I was able to figure it out, it’s just a matter of time before anyone—everyone else can. Thus, respectfully, you need to put your act back together.» «Wear your cape again, sit on the throne. Be the Grand Regent you have always been. Or,» Kregg’s eye moved to you for a moment, and Thragg caught that small gesture. «Don’t. » «You have a choice to make, one that will change the course of the Empire. And if you need time to make such a choice, so be it. But do not falter while you ponder, do not let the cracks in your resolution surface, or the choice will be made for you, whether you approve of it or you do not.»

Alone. Thragg needed to be alone now. He could hear the thrum of his heart in his ears, yet he knew Kregg was speaking truth. His eyes flickered over the two of you, a small glimmer of regret in them as he took in the state he’d left you both in. And then he left. A gust of wind was all you and Kregg could feel as he dashed out the room, and… for an instant he thought about leaving the ship. He thought of flying away, to nowhere in particular. Just away, the cold, comforting void of space embracing him. Far away from your galaxy, where he couldn’t tell the Earth from any of the other tiny, sparkling lights all around him.  But he did not. Instead, he went to the throne room. Standing in front of the seat he’d taken so many times, staring at it from the bottom of the stairwell where his people bowed down to him.

When he came back to your shared quarters hours later, he found you asleep on the bed. A book on the floor—you had probably dropped it as you slept, and… his cape. You were using it as a blanket, your body all curled up underneath it. That was something that he would’ve punished with death, once, but now the view tugged at his heart. He moved silently to sit on the edge closer to you—he had no intention to lie with you or disrupt your sleep, yet his weight dipping the mattress was enough for you to wake up. You barely opened your eyes at first, scrunching your nose—you clearly hadn’t appreciated to be awoken. Yet, once you had realized who had woken you up, you jolted awake. Sitting up and holding the fur of the coat between your hands, trying to handle it to Thragg. «Sorry, I was waiting for you to come back but I must have dozed off and I think I was cold maybe I don’t recall but I didn’t want to use this like that I-» Your speech slurred for having just awoken as you poured out word after word, before Thragg shushed you quiet. He didn’t utter a word, just keeping his eyes on yours. «You should put this back on,» you resumed, sitting on your knees to put the cloak back on his shoulders. And he let you, it weighing on his soul way more than it did on his body.

«May I rest with you?» You nodded, scooching away to give him space. He lied next to you, and then moved closer. He felt you holding your breath as he did so, but you didn’t push him away. So he turned on his side, one arm wrapping around your body as he rested his head on your chest. His ear pressed against you, he could hear your heartbeat. How fast it was going, how afraid you must be of him. And yet, he felt your arm move to embrace him—your hand resting on his shoulder, right under the coat’s fur. He closed his eyes, letting out a small exhale as your other hand moved to caress his hair.  Has he ever been held like this before? No, not even as a child, not even as a newborn. Because it was wrong to be touched gently, it was a weakness to feel good. To do good.  But how could a weakness make him feel so? How could just your fingers brushing through his hair make his body tingle? How could your acceptance of him, your mere presence, make him want to tear up and sob his long life out? How could your heartbeat slowing down as you held him make him think that maybe, just maybe, he should give up the Empire and live the rest of his life only worrying about taking care of you?

After your reading, you decided to roam the halls of the ship. There had to be something you could find, either it be a museum that housed your answers or some painting in the far corner whose description would mention a celebration of some sort. That was when the answer to your problems appeared in the form of a man.

Kregg stood before you, his arms behind his back. He was walking down the same hallway as you, he seemed to prefer to walk instead of float. His build was smaller compared to Thragg, he was still extremely fit, just more lean. Pointing out these differences between them didn’t make it any easier when trying to approach him. You thought about his title and wondered what made him worthy of being the second ranking general. What did he do to get that title? 

“What is it?” Kregg spoke, his tone was pointed and aggressive. You were staring at him, unknowingly, as you tried to psych yourself up to talk to him. Your response was a hesitant one as you curled into your body. 

“Do you, Viltrumites I mean specifically, have any social customs? Like holidays or something like that?” You practiced how you would ask this question but it still came out awkward and stilted. You fidgetted with your hands, scared to give direct eye contact.

“Why do you ask?” His tone was laced with judgment as his one eye glared at you. His other one stared too but it was harder to tell, you could see your face reflected in the red lens as he looked down. You quickly averted from his gaze, preferring to look anywhere else.

“No reason, it just wasn’t in the textbooks I was given and I wanted to know more about your culture.” Good save you thought. Maybe he’ll take the bait and tell, or even better give you access to text that will explain their customs. There was a pause in the air as he thought about what to say. It thickened with tension as each second passed.

“We do not celebrate holidays, unlike you humans. We see no reason to. We have no gods to praise or to sacrifice to, and we don’t need them to raise morale. The closest we have is The Ceremony, when we crown a new Grand Regent. The last time we did…” Kregg trailed off in thought. That was Thraggs. The Great Purge. There wasn’t much information on it, and you could tell Kregg didn’t want to talk about it. 

 “As for courting, the women of Viltrum choose a mate that they view as strong enough to further their bloodline. The way we mate is far more aggressive, compared to humans, who prefer to take it slower. It’s funny how little time humans spend on Earth, yet how complicated their relationships can be.” He seemed to be taking more to himself at the end, his vision shifting outside to the planet that stood just out of reach. You wondered how many more women he's slept with, and who he was thinking about right now.

“When we reach adulthood we fight our parents. I knew of some soldiers who had killed their parents, I knew of some who had killed their children. Weakness has no place in our society.” His face did not move as he said this. It was as if this was just a fact of life, that one day, when you become an adult, you will fight your parents to the death. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, approaching his side. “That sounds pretty terrible.” You knew your words were empty and unimportant. That they might as well have never been said. Still, you spoke them. As they hung in the air, he continued to stare forward, his breathing unchanged. 

“Viltrum is more than just a people, it’s our way of life. We seek out the rot and remove it.” He emphasized this statement with a clench of his fist. “There is no free time on Viltrum, it is either spent training or fighting.” He looked down at you, a thought crossing his mind. “You may think we’re horrible. That we’re too violent and ruthless. That we don’t care for the beings that we save. But that isn’t true. Every life that we must cut down is a burden that we have to bear. We want to save people, that is our true mission.” 

He spoke with enough conviction that you wanted to believe him. Maybe he does think he’s doing good, but so did every colonizer before them. They just so happened to be extremely strong. It was impossible to say no to them, if you did they would simply kill you. Or worse, force you to kneel as they had their way with your society.

“Why must you humans fight back? You clearly can’t take care of yourselves, your greed is corrupting your planet from the inside out. You want to protect these beings, yet they wouldn’t even sacrifice their toenail for you. It’s asinine.” Kregg spoke, his words laced with frustration. The worst part about Kregg’s statement was that it was true. Humanity was corrupt. They don’t even need to lift a finger for our society to fall, and it’s not like they don’t have the time on their hands to wait for it. Maybe they do want to help, and maybe that is the best decision.

Your conversation was cut short by a beeping on Kregg’s wrist. He left without saying another word. You continued to stare out at the planet you so desperately want to return to. The swirl of the clouds like brush strokes and the lights of the cities flickered like stars. The bruises on your shoulders began to flare up as you thought about what he had said. If they really wanted to, Earth would be colonized. It was obvious that they had other plans for it. Maybe what they say is true, that they do care about every being in the universe. In some sick and twisted sort of way.

-

Thragg stared at the computer screen, watching as Kregg talked with you. We could feel something bubbling up in his gut as you walked closer to him, staring out of the same window. He could read your expression, it was one of sympathy. What could Kregg have said that warranted your sympathy. He shouldn’t even be talking to you. 

He didn't understand this feeling. Thragg had felt it before, but never this strong. It was when he was younger. A child in his class was getting more attention than him from his instructor. He had killed them soon after. The reason he gave was that they were weak, that they needed to be culled from society. Soon after he went under Argall’s wing. He didn’t want to murder you, and he certainly wouldn’t kill Kregg. You were both still valuable assets to him. 

He didn’t know why but he ringed for Kregg. His judgement was being clouded, he couldn’t control the thoughts that wormed their way into his brain. He felt cursed. That this simple human had managed to sneak their way into the fortress that was his mind, and began to poison it with thoughts that were unbecoming. This could not continue, not when the mission was at such a pivotal turning point. If he managed to care for this specimen, then what hope would his underlings have.

His thoughts turned to Nolan. How twenty years had passed, how he was so close to claiming Earth for the Viltrum empire. How he had just turned his back and fled when Earth was as good as his. These humans were skilled at psychological warfare, that was the conclusion his research led to.

When Kregg entered the room, he didn’t have a reason as to why he called for him. “It must’ve been a mistake” was what Thragg could come up with. That he had an accident when working and called the wrong person. Kregg noticed the camera footage, he could still see you staring out of the window.