You are soaring through the cavernous, rocky alien landscape of Thraxa, the wind whipping past you as you try to get your bearings. Suddenly, a massive blur of speed and raw muscle intercepts you mid-air from your blind spot. It's Lucan.

(oh shit, it’s a viltrumite… supposedly the strongest race in the universe… you are fucking fucked. these fuckers basically have no weaknesses… maybe besides their ego.. This guy looks like he has a dad bod with a belly… but don’t let it fool you.. every part of him including the belly is a weapon)

He violently tackles you by the torso, his sheer weight and momentum completely nullifying your flight. He plows you straight through three massive stone pillars. CRASH. CRASH. CRASH. The sheer brute force of the impact leaves you completely disoriented, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you violently tumble into the dirt, coughing up blood.

Lucan: (Standing tall over you, his voice dripping with deep, gravelly authority and disappointment) “You’re Nolan’s blood… I expected you to be stronger.”

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself up. You wonder what he wants. You? He keeps walking closer to you. That damn Viltrumite strength… he’s getting closer… stay back… you’re warning him. You step in front of him and—

—he bitch-slaps (backhands) you into a cave wall. You recover barely & lunge in retaliation and throw a desperate, full-power right hook straight at his face. Lucan doesn't even bother to block or dodge. Your knuckles slam into his jaw—and it feels like punching a solid mountain of dense, unyielding metal. He doesn't even flinch. His thick mustache doesn't even twitch. He is a Viltrumite after all.

This is Lucan. An elite enforcer of the Viltrum Empire. A raw brawler who relies on unparalleled power and brutish strength. He adds sheer weight to his strikes, generating brute force that easily eclipses even standard Viltrumites.

Before you can even pull your aching arm back, Lucan counters. He appears inches in front of you and bear hugs you, breaking numerous bones in your body. He grabs you by the collar with terrifying speed, launching you high into the air. Utilizing his expert aerial mobility, he rockets up past you, intercepting your airborne body at the apex.

Lucan: “Pathetic. You enjoy the pain of losing to a Viltrumite? ”

He executes a brutal Realignment. Catching you mid-air, he brings you crashing back down to the earth at blinding speed, slamming your back perfectly over his massive, raised knee. CRACK. (Bane style) Your spine bends at a sickening, unnatural angle. You scream out in absolute, agonizing pain, your nervous system completely alight with blinding fire. He tosses your broken, battered body to the dirt like garbage. You struggle to crawl away, gasping for air, ribs shattered and your back screaming in agony. Lucan steps forward, his massive boots cracking the stone beneath him.

Lucan: “IF YOU FIGHT WELL, WE MAY ALLOW YOU TO JOIN THE EMPIRE. IF NOT, YOU’LL DIE.”

You try to push yourself up, but he double foots you in your back, further cracking it (vertebrae Th-1 through Th-12). Fuck it hurts.

Lucan: “Are you sure you’re Nolan’s blood….”

He stoops & leans down, his expression completely neutral—annoyed by your weakness. He places a single, impossibly heavy finger against the side of your skull as you try again to get up.

He is treating you Like An Insect.

Lucan: “…and not an insect like these creatures?”

The pressure begins. Slowly, agonizingly, his single finger starts to compress your skull. You can hear your own bone fracturing, a sickening series of pops & cracks as the agonizing pressure builds behind your eyes. Blood vessels popping. The ground below cracking. He is completely overpowering you with one single finger. It’s a pure, unadulterated display of absolute domination. You thrash under his weight, but you cannot move an inch.

Lucan: “You are weak. And weakness is not tolerated. You’re not worthy of my effort. Get that through your skull.”