A Spar? Or A Test?

It's been a while since I've been able to enjoy just being alive. A while since I could just sit down and read something I enjoyed or even wanted to read.

The last time I'd had any type of freewill...well, it'd be before I died and woke up in this messed up universe. Before my thoughts could go any further, a fist rocketed into my face and slammed me to the marble training ground floor.

It cratered around my form, the impact cracking and crushing the floor as my body was forcibly burrowed into it.

"Again!" a mature voice bellowed and I heard it even over the horrific ringing in my ears. I pushed myself up with shaky hands and stood on shaky legs before spitting out some blood and teeth. I spared a glance for the man overseeing my training. Conquest. A tall, bulky man who was balding and what little hair remained was stark white. His aged face was marred with multiple little scars but one stood out among the rest. It started around the top left of his forehead and traveled across to the right before it dropped diagonally across his right eye - an eye that was dull and white - and then down his cheek to his jawline.

My opponents were two Viltrumite vanguards who were on leave. They hadn't bothered to tell me their names, instead just doing as their orders told them to. Train me.

And training for a Viltrumite falls into two categories. Physical exercise and extremely spartan-like sparring.

"Keep your guard up, brat! And don't let that mind of yours wonder! Win, no matter what!" Conquest growled out a shout, arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. That last part of what he said was something he had drilled into me as I grew up; Fight, no matter what. Survive, no matter what. Win, no matter what.

My mouth curled into an angered scowl as I saw the two vanguard approaching me in the beginnings of a pincer formation. After all, how is a person supposed to fight two different people coming from two different directions? They simply can't. Especially if that someone is weaker than you. Lifting my hands into a guard, I peered at my attackers and pushed aside my anger at being put through all this.

I pushed aside the frustration at how unfair this fight was - how they outnumbered and could individually overpower me. I pushed aside the fear of the pain this fight would bring. I wasn't a Human anymore. Injuries like these would heal. I didn't push away the pressure - I basked in it. Swam in it like a fish through water.

The first attack arrived.

The attacker themselves was a tall-ish woman with a muscular build. She was strong and fast but I could see that because of that, she'd let herself fall in terms of technique. I couldn't blame her - she was a vanguard. They didn't deal with other Viltrumites as much and had to subjugate other weaker species. But just because I saw the reasoning behind it didn't mean I wouldn't take advantage of it. Her leg sweep was direct. Brutally fast, yes, but direct nonetheless.

I dropped to the floor and swung both legs at her back leg, hitting the knee with enough force to throw up a shockwave throughout the room that echoed back and forth along the smooth surfaces surrounding us. The shockwave was followed by a crack and a grunt of pain, the female vanguard falling to the ground after her balance was taken from her.

Meanwhile, I brought myself back to a standing position and felt the male vanguard rushing behind me. He was similar to the other one. More technique than a martial arts master, for sure, but he relied too much on brute force and too little on creatively using his powers.

Somersaulting backwards, I span over the head of the male vanguard and grabbed his hair mid-air, allowing to swing myself by using that grip as a fulcrum. Pushing off the air for extra momentum, I brought my knee forward and completed the flip with it slamming in between his shoulder blades. I pushed the advantage and pulled his head back before slamming my elbow into his face again and again. Just as he was about to grab me, I pushed off his back and used my ability to fly to assist in putting some more distance between us.

Landing, because this was supposed non-aerial fighting, I was blindsided by the female vanguard who landed a hook right against my liver, the remaining force that spread across my torso being enough to crack a few of my ribs. But I grit my teeth and countered with a palm to her throat followed up with a front kick to his solar plexus that sent her flying away from me quick enough to shatter the sound barrier.

Before I could push the advantage the male vanguard rushed into me, spearing me with enough force to send the two of us into one of the far-off walls with a calamitous bang that sent pops and crackles throughout the air.

Pushing the pain aside, I wrapped my arms around the vanguards torso and lifted him up before throwing him to the ground as hard as I could. Another crater, another shockwave. I lifted my foot to slam down on top of his spine but he rolled out the way just enough for me to only hit his shoulder. Still, the crunches and pop I heard told me his shoulder was pretty fucked up from the stomp, so I pushed after him and grabbed his useless arm with both my hands and lifted him, swinging him into the same wall he'd just tackled me into.

Dazed, even if for only a second, I took advantage of the man's slow reaction and flexed my hand into a fist hard enough to crush titanium like it was paper mache before slamming it into the vanguard's face.

Bones broke, blood squirted across my bare skin and across my face. The anger I'd pushed aside came back with a vengeance, churning in my chest like magma as my punches came harder, faster and sharper. The female vanguard grabbed my shoulder to pull me back and away from her teammate but I elbow her in the face and kicked her away once more before turning back to the vanguard I had pinned up against the wall.

An instinctive bloodthirstiness overtook me, my attacks blurring and the consequences of those savage attacks meaning nothing to me as I roared at my opponent. His face was now mush--his jaw hanging loose, one of his eyeballs hanging from it's socket and no nose to speak of. I should've stopped. He was out of the fight.

But I didn't.

A disturbance behind me alerted my rage addled brain to an attack and I side-stepped it, letting the female vanguard's kick land on the already defeated opponent's stomach, causing a rush of blood to shoot from his mouth. Unperturbed by the gore, I grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air just to slam her back down. I sent a back fist strike across her face, the accompanying bang all but ignored as I reared the hand that had been holding her throat back.

The knife strike I sent right at her throat was caught, centimeters away from it's goal, by a mechanical hand. Conquest's hand.

Instantly, I caught myself before I did something I regret. When I went all out and focused on the fight, I could take down two vanguard Viltrumites - soldiers, basically - but even as angry as I was, I knew I had no chance up against Conquest. Not yet, anyway.

"A good fight," he said as he pulled me up off of the fearful-looking vanguard who realised just how close to death she'd come. Conquest spared her a glance, "Leave, and take the other one with you to the medical bay," was all he said before he set me at my feet and looked at me. He was shorter than me but his bulk and presence made me feel like a child. "I understand losing yourself in a fight, Ezekiel, but you know we don't have the numbers to spare for you to kill sparring members. Temper your aggression next time," he admonished me but from the slight smile tugging at his scarred face it was easy to see he was proud.

And that pride made me feel sick. Because if he was proud, it meant I was acting like a good Viltrumite...I didn't want to be a good member of this violent, genocidal species. How come reincarnation is all fun and games in fanfics and books, but when I get reincarnated I'm put in the body of a baby who's species are basically just evil Kryptonians without their laser eyes?

Don't even get me started on who my father is and the literal torture they call training I've been put through.

"Of course. I apologize for losing my temper," I acquiesced with a nod, knowing that not owning up to whatever mistake Conquest assigned to me would just lead to more trouble than being indignant would be worth.

In response, Conquest gave his own nod and smiled even wider, "Seeing that fight...it was like looking back at myself when I was younger. So much bloodlust. So much potential," he wistfully sighed before focusing back on me, "Do not let your anger get in front of your potential. At least not while you're training. On the battlefield, however...anger is a very useful tool. Remember that."

I forced a smile despite wanting to frown at being compared to him, "I will, instructor."

"Seeing as those weaklings couldn't give you a proper fight, why don't I step in and give you a lesson?" Conquest smiled and it took everything I had not to flinch. The guy is a sadistic battle maniac who lives for fighting. Not to mention he has thousands and thousands of years of combat experience against both Viltrumites and many other dangerous species out there in the vast universe. There was really only one answer available.

"That'd be great. I could use some tips," I continued to smile. After all, I'd get my ass beat but at least I'd learn something from it. Besides, I'd fought the guy a bunch before so I was used to him beating the shit out of me. I always came back better and stronger afterwards. Not to mention that right now I'm in the best growth period for Viltrumites. I awakened my powers six years ago when I was eleven and for the next century I'd see the most results from training like this. After that, I'd just have to go about the long grind and get stronger as I got older.

Conquest's smile somehow got even wider, his snow white mustache stretching with it, as it took on a savage appearance, "I always liked that about you, Ezekiel. Always willing to put in the effort."

I shrugged as I walked away from him to get some space, "No pain, no gain," I replied absentmindedly. No pain, no gain, oh and if I don't get strong enough I'll just be killed so Thragg can have another kid in the hopes the next one is better.

Constantly, I have to move. To get stronger. To make stride after stride, just so I'm not put down like a rabid dog. All the talk of 'Preserve Viltrumite life no matter the cost' goes out the window when you don't show results.

"No pain, no gain, hm?" Conquest hummed behind me before laughing, "Ahahaha! I like that! Indeed, you can only ever gain something by feeling a little pain." I turned to face him, his hands - both flesh and mechanical - clenched in tight fists that made the air pop and warp, "Now, how about we put aside the proverbs and actually test ourselves in the crucible of battle?"

Knowing he didn't want an answer, I rushed at him, pushing myself quicker with my ability to fly as I blurred toward him at speeds faster than sound and threw a punch towards his ugly mug. Conquest bared his teeth in a harsh laugh as he met my punch with one of his own, the resulting impact sending ripples throughout the air and cracking the ground beneath his feet. It took a few moments but I was overpowered and his fist crumbled my arm and found my face, shooting me back the way I came.

I felt my nose snap and spurt blood but I ignored the pain, bull rushing my way through it like I didn't know the meaning of the word 'pain'. I stopped my momentum mid-air and slid out of the way of Conquest's next attack, letting the turbulent air take me as I span and aimed a heel kick at the side of his head. He saw it coming, of course, and lifted his shoulder up to take the attack as he barely budged under the titanic strength I knew I possessed. Conquest's hand shot out and grabbed my ankle, rapidly slamming me up and then down again into the ground before he whipped me away, letting me fly back through the air.

Slowing my momentum, I flipped myself the right side up and dropped myself to the ground, letting myself skid across it as I went through what I could do to at least damage the old bastard across from me.

Lifting a hand, I reset my nose into it's rightful place and painfully blew out any of the blood collecting inside it. Air ways finally cleared, I lowered my arms into a guard again and slowly advanced.

Conquest, seeing this, lifted his own hands as a tacit understanding came between us. No flight. No fancy attacks. Just brawling. It was the best way to get to Conquest - let him work himself up and there'd be openings to take advantage of. Just have to stay conscious long enough for that to happen.

When we got within striking distance, he was the one to test the waters first as he sent two blindingly fast jabs at my face. I slipped both of them, countering with a few jabs of my own and the two of us got into a rhythm. Jabs, the occasional cross--basic stuff. It seemed basic, anyway. The two of us were testing each other, really. Each other's physical condition, their reflexes, their reach, the power of their hits...everything. It was the way Viltrumites were trained to spar.

I was the one to break the testing phase as I stepped into Conquest's bubble just as he was pulling back a jab, sending a vicious shovel hook toward his liver and landing it too. His counter was a left hook aimed at my exposed chin - but it was a feint. The way his feet were placed he was getting ready to follow up with an uppercut if I ducked under or a punishing cross if I backed up.

So instead of doing either of those, frankly, horrendous-sounding options I stepped closer to him and raised a hand to push up against his elbow to stop the hook. My own elbow groaned in protest at the action and the force of his hook suddenly being stopped and funneled through it but I turned my attention toward making sure my head stayed on my shoulders. Fucked up elbow? I could heal from it. Caved in face from a headbutt? I could heal from it but it'd take a while.

And that's exactly what Conquest was trying to do. His forehead coming down to my face at a rapid pace. Not one to let my nose be broken too many times, I tilted my own forehead forward and slammed it against his. My vision blurred for a second as my brain became a pinball in it's own casing and that's all Conquest needed as he slammed a savage combo of a hook to my liver and then an uppercut to my chin which sent me up into the air.

I regained my composure just in time to feel myself be pulled back down and whacked into the ground like a sledgehammer again. Then it stopped.

My vision cleared up a little and the ringing in my ears stopped, so I pushed myself up. It wasn't like Conquest to stop once he got started, but he had indeed stopped. When I looked at him I saw him frowning toward a corner of the room. Following his gaze I saw a blue-haired woman with one long plait ending with a blade of sorts.

I knew her. Thula. She was, after all, my mother for all intents and purposes. She hadn't birthed me per se, only having donated an egg for the experiment that was my creation. Anything motherly about her had never been shown to me, anyway.

"What do you want, Thula? I'm busy," Conquest grumbled out in an obviously not-happy tone.

"The Grand Regent wishes to meet with Ezekiel," she said with a frown of her own, "Unless that goes against your wishes, Conquest?"

Conquest's frown didn't disappear but he did lose his tense atmosphere and I could even see a tinge of fear upon his wrinkled face, "...I see," he said in a much more neutral tone. "Ezekiel," he called out as he turned to me, "Follow Thula to see the Grand Regent. We'll finish our training tomorrow," and with that he turned and took another exit from the wrecked training room, stomping his feet to show his displeasure in the least treasonous way possible.

While that little 'conversation' went by, I caught my breath and pushed myself up onto my feet. The thought of meeting Thragg unnerved me--scratch that, it fucking terrified me but I knew I couldn't get out of it. He was, after all, my father. The reason for me getting all this brutal training was because he couldn't have a weak son, especially if that son was specifically created in a tube to be another Thragg. He was the Grand Regent of a species obsessed with strength which made him the strongest out of the fifty or so Viltrumites still alive and considering that each Viltrumite could wipe out a dozen Earth's on their own...that made Thragg one strong motherfucker.

"Thula," I nodded a greeting to my biological mother which was returned.

"Ezekiel," she replied before turning and walking off. I followed and we walked through the halls of the training center we were in, one of many that dotted Viltrum. Though most were obviously out of use due to the Viltrumite's problem with population.

As we exited the building, we both took flight and soared into the skies as we left the training center behind and made way to the palace. Viltrum was a big planet. Bigger than Earth, owing to it's increased gravity. But when you can go hypersonic casually, it wasn't hard to travel from one continent to another in under a minute. The trip was a silent one, of course, and I got nothing out of Thula in regards to why Thragg wished to see me.

I could only hope it wasn't a punishment of sorts. A horrid memory from when I was eleven resurfaced in the forefront of my mind. I'd been falling behind in my training after it had spiked so severely in it's intensity - I hadn't wanted to train so hard. I was a normal 18-year-old back in my past life, so even after eleven years I still naively thought it'd be like a comic book or an anime. Not throwing me against trained combatants who's tear me apart inch by inch.

Thragg made what had happened in those training sessions look like a quaint little holiday to the south of France by comparison to his punishments. Dragged me to an unconquered planet and just...horrible shit happened there, okay?

So, I could only wish this was about something else.

We came down to the entrance of the palace slowly and entered through the heavy metal doors leading to the inner section. Heavy by Viltrumite standards. Still, I pushed my side open with a slight effort and wandered in with Thula flanking to the left and just behind me. The throne room was bare by Earth standards. A long, thin room that stretched on and on but slowly elevated every so often until you reached the throne itself.

And I could see the throne. Thragg stood next to it. If I was tall at 6'5", then Thragg was a giant at 6'11". His utter bulk looked massive even on his frame and all of it was perfectly sculpted and defined. He stood like a statue some era-defining artist had carved in the image of a War God. His presence only served to make him seem even more intimidating.

This was a man who could walk into any room, on any planet all throughout the universe and command it within a split second. This was the Grand Regent Thragg.

His dark brown eyes, bordering on black, turned to appraise me and the permanent frown on his face lessened somewhat as he turned to face us. Eventually we arrived and both of us held a hand to our chests as a salute of respect. Thula was the first to speak.

"I have brought Ezekiel like you ordered, Grand Regent," she lowered her head in subservience and fear and awe--all valid emotions to feel when face to face with a specimen such as Thragg. He nodded in response and gestured for her to leave. She did so politely but ultimately rapidly, as if being in Thragg's presence was akin to standing next to a star that was close to going supernova.

...Also a valid thing to feel.

I held the salute and waited for Thragg to speak. It might deny common sense to wait for what is akin to a monarch to speak first but Thragg has made it clear to me in the past that I'm not to speak unless spoken to. Sucks ass, yeah, but I'd rather not have him beat the shit out of me.

He turned toward an inconspicuous door way off to the side of the throne, "Follow me, Ezekiel. We shall talk more when we arrive at our destination."

I silently nodded in reply, following after him through the door and down the stairs.

We walked through the clinical and clean white hallways of the under-palace which were eerily empty before we ended up in a darker room. A room fitted with loads of high-tech screens and consoles, all centered around ten empty septic tanks. Thragg stopped right next to one of them and looked at it as if reminiscing about old times before he suddenly spoke up, "I was watching the feed of your training room just now. You did well."

"Thank you...father," I urged the word out even if I didn't want to, "I'd like to think I've made more progress this year than any of my last years of training."

"Well, have you made progress or haven't you?" Thragg asked as he looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, his tone sharp and somewhat biting.

"Yes, I've made progress, father," I didn't break eye contact with the towering man even if everything inside of me screamed for me to do so. The edge of Thragg's lips curled upward somewhat at my answer, a speck of pride for something other than himself in his eyes before he turned back to look at the septic tank.

"Hm," he hummed, "That's good to hear. Tell me, Ezekiel, how many worlds have you helped conquer for the Empire?"

I didn't respond immediately, somewhat confused by the question, but I thought better of asking him about it and instead just answered, "Five, father."

"How many on your own?" he asked another question as soon as I answered another. This was how he was - always asking questions whenever he met me. He knew the answers. If I didn't know it was simply to gauge my mentality, I'd think he was just fucking with me.

"...Two," I responded even as my mind was running at a mile a minute.

Things went silent for a few more seconds before Thragg spoke up again, "And both of those were frontal assaults, weren't they? Not infiltration missions?"

"Yes, they were frontal assaults," I answered affirmatively and he chose this time to turn around.

"Are you aware of how you were made, Ezekiel?" he suddenly asked, boring down at me with his intense eyes and stern-looking face. I looked up at him, blinked a few times in surprise before nodding.

"After the pandemic inflicted upon us by the Coalition via the Scourge Virus, Viltrumites were in need of population reinforcements. Due to the lack of survivors, populating normally wouldn't be viable so Viltrum's remaining scientists took to more unconventional methods," I rattled off the history lessons I'd been forced to take before my power's manifested. I took a breathe before continuing, "Said methods were artificial insemination and growth of fetuses in tanks. The thought behind it is that it would allow our species to bolster our numbers just enough to return to full strength. But...it didn't work as planned. Something about the Viltrumite genome resisted the artificial nature resulting in unneeded mutations, all of which were negative."

Thragg nodded and crossed his arms behind his back, "That is what you were taught. But it was a lie," he casually revealed and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Thragg stepped aside from the tanks and stood next to me, "Viltrumites can breed with just about any race as long as they have the appropriate parts. It would be child's play to subjugate a race compatible with us to bolster our numbers. This," he stopped as he gestured to the tanks, "This was to make sure the disaster that was that damned virus could never happen again."

"...You mean I was made to be immune to the Scourge Virus?" I asked, looking between him and the tanks. I was shocked but not as much as someone should be - I was already sure they were hiding something from me. I just didn't know what.

"Yes, but you were made for so much more as well, Ezekiel," he looked to me and he almost looked happy as he did so, "So much more and you're on the cusp of grasping it all. You see, you were made to be better by the use of genetic tampering made possible by stolen Unopan science. Your senses are keener, your healing ability and ability to recovery better, your growth accelerated and all our known weaknesses are lesser within you. Most of all, you're the only successful Viltrumite that was produced through these methods. Every single one of the others were deformed, whether physically or mentally."

I didn't speak for a little while, thinking over what this meant. Why was he telling me this? Had I failed him and he was telling me just before killing me? No. Thragg wasn't one to do something like that. Neither was he the type to get involved unless he had to. Thula and Conquest working together would be more than enough to kill me if that was the case.

No. There's got to be something more to this.

But what? My mind instantly flashed back to the questions he'd asked me before revealing this. My progress. He was checking my progress, but why? He asked about the invasions I'd been a part of. He was checking my progress to see if I was ready for a mission or a slew of missions.

"And, if I may ask, are you telling me this now, father?" I finally asked the questions I'm sure both of us knew I wanted to ask.

"Because I have decided to send you on a mission much unlike the others you've experienced. An infiltration mission, to be exact," he brought a hand up to stroke his mustache while looking at me from the corner of his eye, "You will only be limited if you stay on Viltrum. You need experience and experience you shall gain if you leave for the world we're sending you toward. There's already an experienced vanguard stationed there and he will provide assistance to you. Training, an identity, the local currency--it will be provided to you by him. You have a secondary goal to your mission, however."

Thinking I was right and knowing I was right were two different things but I trudged through the sudden shock of knowing I was going off planet again, "What will my secondary mission be, father?"

"Make sure the vanguard is still loyal to the Viltrum Empire. He's been on that planet with limited contact for twenty or so years and in his last report he's taken a woman for his wife and had a half-breed son," Thragg frowned at that last part before his expression settled back into neutral, "Your mission, Ezekiel, is to make sure Nolan is still loyal."

...Ah, fuck. What are the chances there's another Viltrumite called Nolan who's been deep undercover for twenty-ish years and also has a wife and a son? Pretty goddamn low. Shit.

Welp, guess I'm off to Earth.

"I'll fulfill this mission you've given to me, father. I promise," I saluted him and Thragg almost smiled once again. Unfortunately, I'd have to deal with his angry ass after I broke that promise, wouldn't I? God, reincarnating sucks ass.