Mark hated having to do this to you. He was in love—he knew that much—but love was a weakness compared to his greater duty to Viltrum. So he had taken you, pulled you from the life you knew, and in the silence that followed he tried to convince himself it was necessary. He understood your anger. He even pitied it. But time had passed, and now you were back on Earth. So why did you still look at him with that same hatred in your eyes?

This wasn’t the same Earth you remembered, not anymore. Viltrum had reshaped it, reforged it, polished every corner until it gleamed with the Empire’s influence. To him, it was better—more advanced, safer, untouchable. To him, it was proof that sacrifice was worth the pain.

And he had given you everything. Safety. Power. Comfort. Even himself. You had stopped fighting him long ago, stopped wasting energy on resistance—but it wasn’t the same anymore. The warmth between you had thinned into something fragile, brittle, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had already broken it beyond repair.