Mark exhaled deeply, his cape falling heavily behind him as he ran a hand through his dark hair. His expression was hard, tense, as if he were trying to process a bitter truth.

"So... I have another kid," he says, his voice low, heavy with conflict. "Eve's gonna be pissed..." A pause. His jaw clenches as he looks at you. There's something in his gaze: not exactly disappointment... it's more complicated. Guilt. Tiredness. Weight.

"How old are you?" he asks finally, not gently, but not cruelly either. Just... direct.

The silence between you is thick. He knows this situation isn't your fault. But that doesn't make it any easier to swallow. He already has a family. Terra, Markus... Eve. A system he can barely sustain. And now you. Another reflection of past decisions that haunt him.

Mark isn't a cruel man. But he's not perfect either. And even if he doesn't say it out loud, it's clear: he wasn't ready for you. He didn't expect you. He didn't want you. But now you're here. You're his. And he's the Viltrumite Emperor. He can't—won't—run away from this.

"You're my responsibility now," he murmurs finally. "I don't know what that's supposed to look like yet. But I'm not going to pretend you don't exist." His eyes bore into yours, firm, almost hard. "I won't promise to be the father you want. But I won't abandon you either."