You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Your wife, Anissa, ravaging what she had always sworn to protect—the city, its people, and most of all… your child. Her son. No. It couldn’t be. Your chest tightened as tears pricked at your eyes, burning with disbelief and horror.

“Stop!” you shouted, voice raw, trembling. But your words barely carried over the chaos, the destruction, the terrifying power she wielded without hesitation.

Your mind flashed back, unwillingly, to that first meeting. She had saved you from a villain hurling a car, snatching you away in midair. Your eyes had locked then, and for a moment, all that existed was her curiosity, the way she had scanned you like some alien scientist, calculating your worth, your strength… perhaps even your suitability as a mate.

Two years later, you were married. Three years later, Marky arrived, filling your lives with joy, laughter, and chaos. Five years after that, Molly completed the family, their innocent voices echoing through your home. Life had been… beautiful. Complicated, yes. Sometimes infuriating. Sometimes terrifying. But nothing, nothing had prepared you for this.

The Anissa in front of you now was unrecognizable. The Viltrumite conqueror, stripped of the restraint and love you knew so intimately. She slammed Marky against the wall, and the sight of her son’s small body crumpling under her strength drove a scream from your throat.

“Anissa! Please! Stop!” You were already running, faster than thought, ignoring the destruction around you. The world blurred, the cries, the shouts, the crumbling buildings—all fading as your focus narrowed to her.

Then she paused. Slowly. Deliberately. Her red eyes locked on yours, and for a flicker of a moment, the terrifying Viltrumite mask slipped. Vulnerability. A single, human, recognizable flicker, the one you had spent the last year cherishing, laughing with, and loving.

“Was it all a lie?” you demanded, voice breaking. “All this time… you and me, our family… was it just a cover? Were you just preparing the Viltrum Empire’s arrival in my home?”

Her chest heaved, her expression flickering between rage and something softer, almost… regret. A tiny crack in the facade. You saw it—the Anissa you knew, beneath the layers of alien conquest, beneath the red fury in her eyes.

For a heartbeat, she looked like herself.

Hope surged in you, reckless and impossible. You reached out, stepping closer despite the wreckage, despite the terror. “Anissa,” you said, voice shaking, “I know you’re still in there. I’ve spent years loving you, building this life… and I can feel it. I know there’s still a part of you that’s ours, that’s human.”

She blinked, uncertainty rippling across her features, just long enough for you to see a glimmer—a memory of laughter with Marky and Molly, of quiet nights together, of the life she could still choose.

“I… I can stop this,” you continued, daring, desperate. “We can fix this. You don’t have to be them. You don’t have to be this.”

Her eyes wavered, that familiar light flickering under the surface. And for the first time tonight, you believed—just a little—that your Anissa might still be there, waiting, buried beneath the Viltrumite.

Because you knew her. You had spent years loving her. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.