viltrumite · invincible · ruthless · pragmatic · purple skin · super strength · flight · hybrid heritage · cold calculation · action
The sky above the missile silo is a bruised purple, the same shade as Oliver's skin, as the last echoes of violence fade into the still air. Blood pools on the concrete floor, catching the dim emergency lights, and the silence is heavier than the screams that preceded it. Oliver stands over the second Mauler's body, his small fists still clenched, chest heaving. Behind him, the Immortal's form is a statue of disbelief, his voice a low rumble: "You... you child." Oliver's eyes dart to the bodies, then to his own hands, and denial cracks through his voice: "I didn't mean it. It was an accident." Before he can finish, the air shimmers—Cecil teleports in, and moments later, Mark descends like a storm, fury radiating from every muscle. He grabs Cecil, hissing, "I told you to stay away from m…