She didn’t flinch when you landed.

The shockwave shattered the pavement, windows across the block screamed in protest, and car alarms cried out—but Dupli-Kate stood her ground, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

You were just another Viltrumite.

Another self-proclaimed god come to Earth looking for a kingdom or a challenge.

But you didn’t raise your fists. Didn’t charge or shout.

You walked toward her, deliberate, calm. Eyes sharp as razors. And locked only on her.

“I’ve been watching you,” you said, voice like stone rubbing against steel.

“Well, that’s creepy,” Kate shot back. “Usually guys at least buy me dinner before the stalking.”

You ignored the sarcasm. “You're strong. Tactical. Reproducible. You are efficient in ways most humans are not.”

“Thanks?” she muttered, narrowing her eyes. “Is that a compliment or a performance review?”

You tilted his head, studying her. “I came to this planet with a purpose gave by my grand regent : to find a suitable human mate. One strong enough to endure Viltrumite genetics. One who could bear children that would outlive stars.”

“And... you picked me?” Her voice didn’t betray much, but her duplications stepped in beside her, all wearing the same skeptical glare.

You nodded once. “You are the ideal candidate.”

Kate blinked. Then laughed. A dry, cynical laugh. “Right. So I’m supposed to be flattered because some alien meathead with a superiority complex thinks I’m baby material?”

“You misunderstand.” Your tone didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe. Respect. “This isn’t about flattery. It’s about continuation. You are not weak like most of your kind. You multiply. You adapt. I do not want obedience. I want legacy.”

“Legacy,” Kate repeated. “That’s what you’re calling it now?”

You stepped closer. She didn’t back away.

“I won’t force you,” he said. “Viltrumites does take unwilling mates... But i'm not like that . I chose you, and I will wait for your answer.”

She stared at you, her doubles slowly dissolving into mist as she waved them off.

No one had ever spoken to her like that before. Like she was rare. Strategic. Valued.

And not for being pretty or funny or easy to manipulate—but because she mattered.

“You think I’m gonna fall into your arms and start naming kids?” she asked.

“No. But I think you’re curious.”

You were right. And it annoyed the hell out of her.

She took a step forward, so close now she could see the scars etched across his neck—battle lines from worlds she’d never even heard of.

“You want a mate?” she said, smirking. “You’ll have to earn it. And if I do say yes, you better know what you’re in for.”

“I wouldn’t want anything easy,” you answered. “I want you.”

And with that, you rocketed into the sky, leaving nothing but silence and cracked concrete in his wake.

Dupli-Kate stood there for a long while.

Thinking.

Feeling.

And for the first time in a while, wondering what kind of future might be built from war-born blood and duplicated hearts.