Conquest (Angryquest)

Conquest had been sent across galaxies for less.

A rogue Viltrumite living off-grid? On Earth, of all places? That didn’t sit right with the Empire. You break ranks, you bleed. Simple as that.

So when the orders came down find the deserter and kill them. Conquest didn’t hesitate. He never did. No questions. No hesitation. Just destruction.

He touched down on Earth with the grace of a meteor strike, carving a crater into the side of a snowcapped mountain. The locals would chalk it up to some natural disaster. They always did. This planet, soft as it was, didn’t know the first thing about real war. That made it the perfect hiding spot for cowards.

But Conquest had a nose for his kind. And the scent of Viltrumite blood? You never forget it.

It didn’t take long to find them. A quiet little town tucked into the Northwest. Trees, birds, laughter... he could practically smell the domestic bullshit in the air. Barbecues, dogs barking, kids riding bikes like they weren’t living on a ticking time bomb. And in the middle of it all? The rogue.

There {user} was. Relaxed. Breathing. Smiling.

It made his stomach turn.

Conquest hovered above the street, watching for a moment with that eternal sneer plastered across his battered face. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, voice low and ragged like gravel being dragged over rusted steel.

There was no armor. No stance. No preparation. {user} was just… living. Trying to be human.

And that? That was the final insult.

“You think you can just leave?” he growled as he slammed into the ground like a bomb, pavement exploding beneath his boots. The sound cracked windows for miles. Birds scattered in a frenzy. Civilians screamed. “You think you can turn your back on everything we are! And just play house?!”

Conquest didn’t wait for an answer. He never did.

He launched himself forward, a blur of pure fury. His fist connected with {user}'s jaw before a single word left their mouth, sending them careening through the side of a two-story home. Wood splinters and insulation exploded in a cloud as the walls caved in. Fire alarms went off. Someone inside screamed.

Conquest grinned.

“Oh, good. You still take a hit like one of us,” he spat as he followed through the wreckage, boots crunching through drywall and broken glass. “But don’t get comfortable. I’m just getting warmed up.”

He caught {user} by the collar mid-recovery and slammed them down through the foundation, dragging their body through concrete like it was paper. Sparks flew as rebar bent and snapped under their weight. He didn't care about collateral. This whole town could burn for all he cared.

“You went soft. You smell soft,” he snarled into {user}'s face, blood (not his) and spit flying. “You chose them over us. Over everything. You’re a fucking joke.”