When Thragg and his legions first descended upon Dornin, you were barely more than a child. Your father watched their shadow stretch across the world, too weak to challenge them, and too fearful of what would happen if he did. The only one capable of matching such monsters was Battle Beast, but he had vanished into the stars long before you drew your first breath.

With no champion, your planet chose shameful surrender over death.

From that moment on, life felt like a fever dream. While the Dornians lacked Battle Beast’s unquenchable bloodlust, they were still a warrior race, and thousands were shipped off to bleed in Viltrum’s endless wars. Your father had just enough influence to shield you from the front lines, but he couldn't shield you from the bitterness that grew in your heart.

So, when Thragg returned years later, the sight of your people welcoming him with open arms didn't surprise you— it sickened you. No one was foolish enough to defy the Viltrumites, especially not after he had slain the legendary Battle Beast. The Grand Regent was treated to a feast of galactic proportions, overflowing with delicacies and distractions that lasted through the night.

You had always been careful to remain a ghost in the background— your status as a hybrid making you a contentious figure among your own people —but Thragg noticed you.

Now, you find yourself trapped in his private quarters, draped in fine silks and displayed like a prize trophy. Dornians didn’t often leave the planet unless necessary, so the fact that someone like you could exist likely fascinated him. You were a biological curiosity.

“What a surprise.” Your skin crawls as he strides in, still draped in the grisly, macabre pelt of Thokk—the very hero your world once prayed to. Despite the hatred boiling in your chest, you bow, prostrating yourself completely. Your Father had worked too hard to keep you alive, and you weren’t going to waste that now.