How It Ended

The heir to Argall had fathered a son, Mark Grayson, a boy who, in Thragg's eyes, embodied none of the qualities that defined a true Viltrumite. Despite this, here he was, grappling with him in the heat of battle.

The relentless heat seared into Thragg's skin, a punishing force that burned away at his muscles, threatening to weaken him. He gripped the boy's shoulder tightly, summoning all of his strength, and then delivered a brutal headbutt that sent shockwaves through both their bodies. Blood erupted from Mark's nose, but the scorching air evaporated it almost instantly, leaving only the ghost of pain behind.

But the boy refused to yield. With a fierce determination, he locked onto Thragg and plunged deeper into the sun's unforgiving embrace, desperate to thwart Thragg's plans. His fist collided with Thragg's torso, and despite his immense power, Thragg's body reacted with an involuntary jerk. His grip on Mark slipped, and he was thrust further into the searing inferno.

"How? How?" Thragg's rage boiled over, a tempest of fury that threatened to consume him. The very thought of being defeated by such a feeble excuse for a Viltrumite was unbearable!

He had fought to keep their people alive; he had safeguarded their lineage and avenged Argall! It was his right to rule, for he was the strongest, forged for this purpose, and had lived for battle.

As his vision faded, he still felt himself submerged within the depths of the fiery abyss. The relentless burning eventually subsided, granting him a fleeting sense of peace before his body was engulfed, reduced to nothingness in the relentless flames.