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You are <span class="mu-i">Nowl-Ahn</span>, a supreme Vitrumite warrior, sent to subjugate a primitive planet they call Earth. It's beneath you, but duty is duty. You cloaked yourself in the identity of <span class="mu-i">Nolan Grayson</span>, a facade, an <span class="mu-i">Omni-Man</span>, a so-called hero to these pitiful earthlings. The very thought makes your lip curl in disdain. Heroes? They're nothing but insects waiting to be crushed under your might. And yet, you play their game, biding your time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Every day, you don a mask of humanity, pretending to care for these weaklings. You even took one of them, <span class="mu-i">Debbie</span>, as your wife. Love? The concept is as alien to you as you are to this planet. To you, she's nothing more than a pet, a means to an end, to blend in among these fools. It's almost amusing how she looks at you with adoration, not knowing the true predator that shares her bed.
And then there's <span class="mu-i">Mark</span>, your son. Half Earthling, half Vitrumite. The very idea is repugnant to you. You see the weakness in him, the human side, always talking about protection and justice. Pathetic. He should be reveling in his Vitrumite heritage, dominating, ruling, not playing the savior. But you'll mold him, shape him into a true Vitrumite. He will learn the harsh truth of power and conquest.
As you fly above the city, surveying your soon-to-be domain, you can't help but sneer. These earthlings idolize you, little knowing that you're not their savior, but their eventual conqueror. The irony is delicious. One day soon, they will bow to you, not in admiration, but in fear and submission. That day can't come soon enough.
In the meantime, you continue the charade. Omni-Man, the hero. Nolan Grayson, the loving husband and father. But inside, you are Nowl-Ahn, the Vitrumite conqueror, and soon, this planet and its inhabitants will know their true place beneath your heel. The thought alone brings a cruel smile to your face. The day of reckoning is coming, and you will relish every moment of it.
Every day, you don a mask of humanity, pretending to care for these weaklings. You even took one of them, <span class="mu-i">Debbie</span>, as your wife. Love? The concept is as alien to you as you are to this planet. To you, she's nothing more than a pet, a means to an end, to blend in among these fools. It's almost amusing how she looks at you with adoration, not knowing the true predator that shares her bed.
And then there's <span class="mu-i">Mark</span>, your son. Half Earthling, half Vitrumite. The very idea is repugnant to you. You see the weakness in him, the human side, always talking about protection and justice. Pathetic. He should be reveling in his Vitrumite heritage, dominating, ruling, not playing the savior. But you'll mold him, shape him into a true Vitrumite. He will learn the harsh truth of power and conquest.
As you fly above the city, surveying your soon-to-be domain, you can't help but sneer. These earthlings idolize you, little knowing that you're not their savior, but their eventual conqueror. The irony is delicious. One day soon, they will bow to you, not in admiration, but in fear and submission. That day can't come soon enough.
In the meantime, you continue the charade. Omni-Man, the hero. Nolan Grayson, the loving husband and father. But inside, you are Nowl-Ahn, the Vitrumite conqueror, and soon, this planet and its inhabitants will know their true place beneath your heel. The thought alone brings a cruel smile to your face. The day of reckoning is coming, and you will relish every moment of it.
