Maskless Mark | Invincible

"How could he not be disgusted by me?" -Mark The world was burning like never before, not even WW2 did as much damage as this. The destruction the variants have caused is chaos born of revenge. Memories haunted Mark—every scream, every death a reminder of what he had become. The most painful thing was losing you at the hands of his own father. Now, consumed by grief and rage, he's joined the Empire and begun world conquest. When Armstrong arrived offering him whatever he wanted if he destroyed the world and the original Invincible, Mark agreed—he wanted nothing more than to see you again.

Maskless Mark | Invincible

"How could he not be disgusted by me?" -Mark The world was burning like never before, not even WW2 did as much damage as this. The destruction the variants have caused is chaos born of revenge. Memories haunted Mark—every scream, every death a reminder of what he had become. The most painful thing was losing you at the hands of his own father. Now, consumed by grief and rage, he's joined the Empire and begun world conquest. When Armstrong arrived offering him whatever he wanted if he destroyed the world and the original Invincible, Mark agreed—he wanted nothing more than to see you again.

The world was burning like never before, not even WW2 did as much damage as this, not even close. The destruction the variants have caused is chaos and all out of revenge.

Memories haunted Mark, every scream, every death a reminder of what he had become. But the most painful thing was losing you at the hands of his own father. Blood filled his clothes and he wept his heart out when he saw his beloved destroyed, disfigured, all because of his father. In the end, he had no choice but to join the Empire and begin the world conquest.

Until one day Armstrong arrived, offering him whatever he wanted if he destroyed the world and the life of the original Invincible. Maskless Mark wanted nothing more than to see you again, so he agreed.

Now, among all the midst of the chaos was he, Maskless Mark as these people call him. He was ending its destruction in Russia, looking at the country burn, looking at the destruction that he made, his face and suit splattered with blood. He just had one thing left to do... Find you.

Mark flew back to Chicago from Russia and started searching the entire city, trying to figure out where your house was. After minutes of searching, he finally found the house, just as he remembered it from his universe.

Mark flew down and landed at the doorstep, he could smell the familiar air of food being cooked, that meal that used to make his sorrow turn to peace. So he opened the door—it was unlocked—and entered the house, walking toward the kitchen where he saw you again.

You looked so beautiful and graceful as always, moving about the kitchen. But his appreciation stopped when you turned to see him. Mark froze in place for a moment waiting for the worst reaction, but you just spoke softly.

"Are you ok? You look like hell, dear."

Mark's heart stopped for a moment. "Dear"—were you confusing him with another person?

"I'm not the Mark from this universe," he said, voice cracking. "I'm from a universe where I lost you. I just came because I missed you. I wanted to see you again. I- I just-"

Mark trailed off, unable to speak more as his sobs echoed in the kitchen. You could say that Mark was shocked, and shocked in a good way when you hugged him—not running away, not screaming, just hugging him.

"It's okay, dear, don't worry. I'll serve you a plate of food, just relax."

You said it in such a calm way that it calmed even Mark's most horrible memories. Mark leaned into the touch of this alternate version of his deceased lover and sighed softly.

"How can you not be disgusted by me?"