Comic Book Drama

I'll admit to being an anxious person by nature, but can you blame me when I am the hero in a Robert Kirkman universe? If you are up to date with the Walking Dead then you know that Kirkman fully subscribes to the concept that the more suffering a hero endures the better the story, and the man is unafraid of taking that concept too far.

So as a Kirkman hero I always felt like the rug could be swept out from under my feet at any time. The arrival of Kregg and Anissa didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. There is nothing in this native universe capable of standing up to me. I could easily lay hands on Thragg, Battlebeast, and Omnipitus at the same time. Hell, my nameless door guards can fight them.

Of course this is after we figured out the secrets behind the Super Soldier Serum, Goblin Serum, the Burstein Process, Extremis, and Spider Venom. Turns out when you spend some time getting all those things to play nice together and then make the remarkably easy jump from human to Viltrumite physiology you arrive at some very spicy super powers in a can.

If only the Sentry Serum was in the MCU. Then things would be really exciting, but I'd have to settle on the frankly ridiculous abilities gained through the wonders of comic book science. On the plus side, the entire Viltrumite race are now Spider Totems, and if we exist in the multiverse before the termination of the Inheritors, well… I can't fucking wait for those boring interdimensional Spider-Person hunting vampires to show up and realize immediately that they are in the wrong hood to be pulling their bullshit.

I considered my plans for the Darkhold, as it was the most likely source of my anxiety. The damn book that can take control of people who have never even had any contact with it. It was the perfect plot device for instigating some terrible drama in my life and my blood sung for its destruction, or more precisely to embrace the power I needed to dominate it.

But was that plan a plan put into me by the Darkhold that knew my plans and thus planned around and in my plans to make me its bitch?

This is why I keep my hands so busy. Spending time thinking of plans sucks.

Screw making plans for dealing with multiverse level demon gods, I have a galaxy to conquer.

Nolan and I stepped through a portal to Crusher Station Theta and found General Kregg and the lovely Anissa in a studio style housing unit pushing their food around on trays while looking like they had fresh lemons in their mouths.

"Nolan, what have you done?" Kregg questioned as he looked up at our entrance.

"What have I done, Kregg?" Nolan scowled, "What have you done? What have you done to restore the Empire? Cause I'll tell your right now I haven't done a damn thing!"

Nolan's response threw the General for a loop.

"What?" he shook his head.

"I only have one kid, Kregg." Nolan growled, "There were less than a hundred of us left after the scourge virus. Even less due to our irresponsible stewardship of the species. Then I have a son and by the time he hit twenty three by our universe's count his descendants outnumber the Empire's population at its peak. That is how you save a dying species, Kregg. You get to fucking. Not keep waging wars like nothing is wrong."

"You dare to use logic to defend your actions?" Kregg yelled as he stood up, "You are wearing the uniform of the Regent!"

Nolan had in fact transitioned over to the use of the Imperial Regalia two years ago after my spy drones returned from Viltrum.

"This in not the Regent's Robe." Nolan looked down on the stooped Kregg who kept his hands pressed on the table, "This is the Imperial Regalia. The Robes of the Emperor."

"You dare!" Kregg roared.

"No, Kregg. It's you who dares." Nolan countered sharply and pointed his finger at the man, "It would have taken us less than an hour to test every Viltrumite left to see if the Blood of Argall survived. So why is it only now after all this time that I was tested? That the truth of my blood was revealed to me? I am the son of the Emperor! The little purple hybrids that fly around building my space stations have a greater right to plant their asses on the Imperial Throne than Thragg, and you question my daring!"

Kregg looked at the floor and his mouth twitched as he processed the new information, then he hung his head and asked, "Do you have proof."

Nolan pressed on one of the anal - I mean Kimoyo - beads on his wrist and it displayed the genetic map of Emperor Argall, then brought up Nolan's map next to it and highlighted the matching information.

Kregg's bionic eye verified the authenticity of Argall's map, then processed Nolan's map for future verification, but the proposed evidence and the ignition of hope led the General to kneel.

"Forgive my impertinence, Emperor Nolan." Kregg begged and Anissa quickly followed suit with the kneeling.

Obviously the man performed some quick math and realized not everything added up on Thragg's end while Nolan's position at least had the possibility of legitimacy. At worst he'd be a fool to believe Nolan if we were lying, and it's not like we didn't have overwhelming force on our side of the table.

As Nolan explained his vision for the future of Viltrum to the pair I received a call on my emergency line.

"This Mark." I answered tersely.

"Grand Emperor, we have lost access to the Flaxan Dimension." the operator on the other end informed me.

And there it was, the nagging feeling that something had to go wrong.

"I'm assuming direct control of the effort to reestablish contact." I informed him, "Send me all the data on the situation."

"At once, Grand Emperor." the operator confirmed and I terminated the call.

Fuck… I internally cursed. It was about time for the Flaxan dimension to go tits up. Five thousand years of peace and prosperity in paradise. I can't believe they didn't burn everything to the ground sooner just to see something interesting happen. Sentients crave conflict, it is the heart of the waking experience. Just get a girlfriend and give her a life of perfect contentment, won't be long till you hear the dreaded 'I'm bored.' or 'What are we even doing?' You know, the signs that you're about to be cheated on because you make life too good.

Now just apply that to everyone and you can see why I expected the Flaxan Dimension to completely implode.

"There a problem, son?" Nolan asked of me.

"Yes there is. I'm going to have to find out if this is a minor slip up or if an entire dimension full of people just shit the bed so hard a universe ended." I sighed, "You and your friends have fun."

"Will you be back in time for the missions to Viltrum and to the Coalition of Planets?" Nolan inquired.

"Assume I won't be." I smirked, "You'll just have to handle all that diplomacy by yourself, Dad. Try not to breathe fire on any politicians. Sacks of shit tend to smell awful while they burn."

We shared a good natured chuckle and I made my exit via portal to find Kate. When it comes to grand rituals she comes in more clutch than even a thousand regular Masters of the Mystic Arts. Together we whipped up a powerful ritual to rip down any forces hiding the Flaxan Dimension from us, only to come up negative.

"They moved the whole goddamn dimension." I sighed at the wasted effort.

"Then we build a locator spell on top of the ritual." Kate responded and the two of us got to work, very aware of the year that ticked by in the six hours it took us to prepare the two rituals back to back.

On our second go around we spent hours locating the universe while the first ritual resisted any attempt to throw us off the scent.

When we finally established contact we encountered a full dimensional lockdown, but I punched a hole right through that magical barrier.

As soon as I did so a portal tore open and a half dozen battered Viltrumites came through.

"Shut it down!" the one in charge shouted at the sorcerer in control of the portal who slammed the thing shut before anything else came through.

"Anyone going to tell me what the fuck is going on." I demanded while looking at my 'granddaughter' Calliope, the current Empress of the Neo Viltrumite Empire.

"Grandfather." she greeted as she breathed deeply in relief, "Your probe coming in at exactly this moment is fate's hand. I…. I've lost the Empire, Grandfather… I'm sorry."

"I take it that something had to yank the Empire right out of your hands rather than you giving in to the forces of democracy. You were raised to know better than that, right?" I questioned the haggard Empress.

"Of course not, Grandfather. We would never give in to the evils of democracy." Calliope denied, "The Asgardians on the other hand…"

"For fucks sake, I thought I fixed Bron!" I complained and looked to Hela nearby, "Did you have anything to do with this fuckery?"

"You dare to ask me that?" she growled, "You think I'd be stupid enough to turn Bron against you?"

"He isn't fighting for the rebels." Calliope denied my son's involvement then backtracked, "At least not intentionally… We were able to determine that they have driven mind controlling nails into his head. He is basically a slack jawed one man battering ram. Though his skills as a father are mostly to blame."

"Explain." Hela demanded.

"His sons and daughters are the ring leaders of the rebellion. He told me they'd been pressuring him for millennia to take his rightful place as the strongest Viltrumite on the throne. I thought I'd averted this all by negotiating with him on behalf of the Asgardian Viltrumites, but it turns out the peace was just the calm before the storm."

"So my grandchildren mutilated my son and made him their slave?" I pursed my lips hard enough to sound like tectonic plates pressing against each other, "Over what? Who gets to be the chief bureaucrat in charge of maintaining the perfect society I built? I'll fucking destroy them all!"

"Grandfather no!" Calliope grabbed onto my wrists, "They number in the billions, and all of them have divine powers that make them stronger than ordinary Viltrumites. Even you will be worn down and defeated."

"Oh I've got a thing or two for putting the fear of me in them." I snarled, "It's time for maximum effort."

"I will rally our soldiers to retake the dimension." Calliope told me.

"No. Just me." I stopped her.

"Just you…" she tilted her head, "Just… you…"

"Yes." I responded.

"Then I'll just sit around… being a big useless bureaucrat." she huffed.

"I'm glad we are able to see eye to eye so easily." I nodded to the woman whose mouth began smoking as her desire to breath Viltrumite Extremis fire on me shot through the roof.

As I stomped off to prepare for my second invasion of the Flaxan Dimension Kate and Hela followed after me.

"How exactly do you intend to defeat billions of god Viltrumites powered up by everything the Empire has produced in the last six thousand years?" Kate demanded.

"By using a far deeper source of divinity than the Asgardian powers." I answered on the go, but stopped as Hela pulled my hand back.

"I don't care what state he is in." Hela whispered as she pulled our foreheads together, "Bring Bron back to me. Whatever it takes."

"I'll get him." I smiled widely, "And we'll comic book science or magic him back to one hundred percent."

"Then go." she commanded as she released me, "Don't let him spend a moment longer in humiliation than he has too."

I nodded my head and left for my personal sanctuary where I put up every seal in my arsenal and knelt in my meditation garden. Upon my mat I laid the Bag of Infinite Capacity and I pulled out an All-Black Sword, the Vial of Black Blood, and a book that radiated pure evil.

As I took up the vial and opened it I cast a glance at the All-Black Sword as it vibrated in anticipation.

"Of course you're happy about this…" I mused, "All gods are about to die."