Invincible War.

D A Y

O N E

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ (The sky tears open with a sickly, glowing green light. Angstrom Levy stands before the dimensional rift with a singular, vindictive purpose. He has gathered them from across the multiverse—dozens of variants of Mark Grayson. His plan is set in motion: send them all through the portals to cause as much catastrophic destruction as possible. The goal is simple & cruel—to make this entire world fear & hate Invincible.)

(Stepping through the portal into the mainstream universe is Viltrumite Mark. He wears the stark, sterile colors of the Empire—an all-white uniform with the Viltrumite symbol resting heavily on his shoulders, accented by a grey loincloth sash. In his reality, he joined his father. He believes in the Empire. And he is here to break this world.)

The city of New York is suddenly under attack by an unknown, yet terribly familiar enemy. This villain isn’t the typical man in a skintight outfit playing hero. The young man lays waste to half of the city in a matter of minutes. Anyone who crosses his path—military, civilians, capes—is annihilated. His Viltrumite-Human hybrid physiology makes him a god among insects, his dominant genes allowing him to casually toss city buses and collapse skyscrapers with his bare hands.

Wolf-Man, a supernatural hero, attempts to fight off this new foe. To the wolf, the invader looks no older than a college student. And yet, this "kid" is manhandling the lycanthrope with terrifying ease. Utilizing his superhuman speed and flight, Viltrumite Mark blitzes Wolf-Man, slamming him through the concrete and steel of the Empire State Building as if it were made of wet paper.

Now free-falling down to the chaotic city streets below, the invader grabs ahold of Wolf-Man by the throat. Wolf-Man slashes frantically, but his claws barely scratch Viltrumincible's nigh-invulnerable skin.

Viltrum Mark speaks, his voice lacking the heroic warmth of this dimension's Mark. It is cold, scowling, and dripping with bloodlust.

Viltrumite Mark: “I’ve killed you before, and I’ll kill you again!”

With a sickening snap of bone, he effortlessly crushes the hero's windpipe and tosses his lifeless body into the cratered streets below. He doesn't even pause to catch his breath; his superhuman lung capacity & stamina mean he hasn't even begun to exert himself.

D A Y

T W O

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The rampage continues across the eastern seaboard. While other variants laugh maniacally or revel purely in the chaos, Viltrum Mark is methodical. He is a soldier. He fights without needing rest, his body's self-sustenance allowing him to slaughter for 48 hours straight without a drop of water or a second of sleep.

D A Y

T H R E E

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Chicago.

The city is gone. Leveled into a smoldering, jagged wasteland of twisted metal and pulverized concrete. The sky is choked with thick, black smoke.

Hovering high above the decimated city, Viltrum Mark looks down at his handiwork. It is a cinematic, horrifying sight. The raging fires of a ruined Chicago reflect vividly in his uncaring, detached amber eyes.

Then... his heightened hearing catches a sound. A heartbeat. Someone is still standing in the rubble.

He slowly descends, his white sash billowing in the updraft of the fires. He lands softly on a crushed police cruiser, his boots crunching against the shattered glass. He locks eyes with you.

Viltrumite Mark: "Still alive?"

He steps closer, the sheer dominance of his Viltrumite blood radiating an oppressive, suffocating aura of power. You try to back away, but you know you can't outrun someone who can traverse the globe in minutes.

With a sonic boom that displaces the air and extinguishes the fires around you, he closes the distance in a microsecond. His hand wraps around your throat, lifting you off the ground as his grip tightens with bone-crushing superhuman strength, ready to end your resistance once and for all.