Kapitel 54: Blood
Mark caught Lucan's fist easily, but the force behind it still pushed him back, skimming across the water's surface. He gritted his teeth and yanked Lucan forward, bringing his head down with a hard crack against Lucan's nose. The Viltrumite snarled as blood dripped down his face. Mark didn't let up—he followed the headbutt with a brutal uppercut that sent Lucan flying up into the sky.
Mark shot up after him, fists clenched tight. "Who the hell are you?"
Lucan wiped the blood from his nose, a grin forming as he snapped the bone back into place. "Name's Lucan, proud Agent of the Viltrum Empire."
Mark's eyes narrowed. "You're a Viltrumite?"
Lucan cracked his knuckles. "I am."
"Why are you here?" Mark demanded. "What do you want with me?"
Lucan smirked, his eyes glinting with malice. "A foolish question, isn't it obvious, you betrayed the empire. For that you deserve nothing but death. But luckily for you Thragg wants you and your brat alive."
Mark's stomach twisted. 'Brat.' His mind raced. 'I have a kid?'
Before he could ask more, Lucan was on him. His fist smashed into Mark's face, sending him flying backward through the air. Mark barely had time to steady himself before Lucan struck again, his blows coming faster, harder. The air around them crackled with each punch, water spraying into the air as they skimmed over the ocean's surface. "Show me your fighting spirit!" Lucan roared, his fists a blur as they hammered into Mark's torso, driving him farther and farther back. The force of each blow caused the water to explode beneath them.
Mark gritted his teeth, fury boiling inside him. He'd had enough. He ducked under Lucan's next punch and drove his fist into Lucan's ribs, feeling the bones crack under the impact. Lucan gasped, his body jerking from the hit. Mark didn't stop. He slammed his knee into Lucan's midsection, and clasped his hands together smashing it into his spine and sending him crashing down into the water below.
Lucan hit the ocean with a massive splash, but he didn't stay down. He burst up through the surface, snarling as he flew at Mark again. His fist swung wide, aiming for Mark's jaw. Mark raised his hand, sending a red sphere hurtling toward Lucan. The sphere connected, grinding into his skin and forcing him back into the sea. He snarled in pain but slapped the red energy away before charging back toward Mark. Mark met him head-on, their fists colliding in mid-air. The shockwave from the impact rippled through the air, shattering windows in the distant city. Mark grabbed Lucan by the arm, twisting his body and slamming him into the water below again. Lucan hit hard, the ocean churning around him. But before Mark could follow up, Lucan shot out of the water like a missile, fists aimed squarely at Mark's chest.
The blows came fast, one after another, driving Mark back through the air. Each punch reverberated through his body, and he fought to keep his balance in the sky. He ducked under another punch and countered with a quick jab to Lucan's jaw, sending him reeling back. Lucan recovered instantly and charged again, his fists swinging wildly. Mark dodged the first blow, then the second, before slamming his fist into Lucan's gut. Lucan doubled over, spitting blood. Mark grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him toward the city, Lucan's body smashing into the side of a skyscraper. Glass and concrete rained down as Lucan tumbled through the building, landing hard in the street below.
Mark flew down after him, landing with a thud. Lucan was already getting to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth as he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"That all you got? I'm disappointed it seems Nolan's seed is as weak as he is,"Lucan spat, his eyes burning with rage.
Mark didn't answer. He shot forward, his fist connecting with Lucan's face, the impact sending him flying through the street. Cars crumpled beneath Lucan's body as he skidded across the asphalt, finally coming to a stop when he smashed into a parked bus. The vehicle exploded on impact, flames shooting into the air as Mark landed beside him.
Lucan groaned, staggering to his feet. Mark gave him no time to recover. He grabbed Lucan by the neck and slammed him into the side of a nearby building, the concrete shattering from the force of the blow. Lucan gasped, trying to pry Mark's fingers off his throat, but Mark tightened his grip, rage burning in his eyes. Lucan swung a desperate punch, catching Mark in the side of the head. The blow knocked him off balance, and Lucan used the moment to break free, driving his knee into Mark's stomach. Mark grunted, stumbling back, but recovered quickly, his fist slamming into Lucan's ribs once more.
They clashed again, fists and knees flying as they tore through the city. Buildings crumbled around them, cars exploded, and the ground shook beneath their feet as they exchanged blow after blow. Lucan swung wide, aiming for Mark's head, but Mark ducked under the punch and countered with a vicious uppercut that sent Lucan crashing through the side of a nearby building. Mark hovered in the air, breathing heavily as Lucan slowly stood, wiping the blood from his mouth once again. "You're stronger than I thought," Lucan growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Mark clenched his fists, glaring down at him. "You have no idea what you've just started." Mark's blood boiled. He couldn't recall ever being this angry—so much rage all at once. Lucan was already on him again, snatching a light post from the street, swinging it around like a bat as he shot toward him. Mark pointed his finger down and focused on the end half of the post. Lucan's swing wavered as gravity yanked on it, making it snap off in his hands. Cursing, Lucan went for another attack, but Mark was faster. He pointed up, altering the gravity around Lucan, causing him to fall skyward. Lucan's eyes widened in surprise as he tumbled helplessly upward, but Mark reached out and caught his leg mid-flight.
Without hesitation, Mark swung Lucan back down, slamming him into the pavement with a sickening crunch. The force created a crater beneath Lucan's body, but Mark wasn't done. He yanked Lucan up and slammed him again—harder this time. Each hit only seemed to amplify the fury in Mark's eyes, like he was trying to bury Lucan deeper with every blow. But Lucan wasn't done fighting either. He kicked out at Mark, his boot catching Mark square in the face, sending him skidding along the concrete, a trail of destruction in his wake.
Mark's jaw cracked from the hit, a burst of pain shooting through him. Lucan was weaker, sure, but he still packed a punch, and it was enough to bruise. Still, he knew Lucan wasn't as durable as he was—he could feel that much. A plan formed clearly in his mind; beat Lucan within an inch of his life, then get his questions answered. But as Mark stepped forward to finish him off, a sharp headache pulsed in his skull. A flash of something—no, a memory. He saw a man, standing in the middle of a road, dressed in white. A stern look, with a thick moustache and grey hair at the sides.
"You're such a disappointment," the man's voice said, dripping with disgust.
Mark shook his head, trying to push it down, but before he could think more on it, Lucan's fist collided with his face, sending him through multiple buildings, concrete and steel exploding around him as he tore through walls and floors. Dust and debris clouded the air, and Lucan rocketed through the hole he'd made, his fist drawn back, eyes burning with hate.
"You're gonna have to be more vicious if you want to beat me," Lucan growled, driving his fist into Mark's chest, collapsing the floor of the building and pinning him to the floor. The building groaned, and the entire structure crumbled, burying them both under the rubble. They exploded from the wreckage in a blur of speed, Mark's nose bloodied, his flannel shirt shredded and hanging in tatters. Lucan floated a few metres away, chest heaving, a sneer on his lips. "Viltrumites fight to kill, but it seems these humans have infected your mind with their mercy," he taunted, spitting out a glob of blood. "You're soft, you're weak, and Thragg will—"
Lucan's words were cut short as Mark moved, faster than sound. He closed the distance with a deafening sonic boom, his fist colliding with Lucan's sternum in a brutal strike that shattered bone. Lucan's eyes went wide, his mouth open in a gasp of pain. Before he could recover, Mark's palm came down hard on his throat, bending the windpipe in, cutting off air. Lucan choked, struggling to breathe, his hands clawing uselessly at Mark's wrist.
Lucan swung desperately, trying to break free, but Mark deflected the punch easily, slamming another fist into Lucan's sternum, driving the fractured bones deeper. Lucan howled in pain, trying to fight back, throwing wild, uncoordinated punches in his desperation. Mark caught one of the swings, gripping Lucan's forearm tightly. With a swift pull, he yanked Lucan's arm out straight, twisting it. Mark's fist came down hard on Lucan's elbow, snapping it backward with a sickening crack. Lucan's roar of agony echoed through the shattered cityscape as he stumbled back, clutching his broken arm.
Lucan's rage flared, and he pushed through the pain, flying back at Mark with a crazed look in his eyes. His good arm swung, catching Mark in the side of the face, then a quick follow-up kick sent him crashing into an office building. Glass shattered as Mark's body broke through the windows, the structure buckling around him as he slammed into the floor inside. Mark winced, rolling to his feet. The bruises on his side throbbed, his muscles ached from the impact. Mark stood up as Lucan charged forward, swinging a fist that shattered the floor of the office building they were in. Mark ducked the blow, feeling the shockwave rip through the floor as Lucan's punch cracked the concrete. The entire floor collapsed beneath them, sending them both plummeting down. But before Lucan could recover, Mark's boot smashed into his side, sending him careening away through the crumbling walls.
Mark shot after him, grabbing Lucan by the back of the head, yanking him backward. The two struggled in mid-air, Lucan twisting to free himself. But Mark was relentless, his knuckles pounding into Lucan's sides, the force of his hits making Lucan grunt in pain with every blow. He wrapped his arm around Lucan's neck, constricting tightly in a rear-naked choke, holding him like a vice. Lucan growled and elbowed Mark hard in the ribs, finally breaking his hold and shoving him away.
Lucan took a swing, aiming for Mark's jaw, but Mark stepped into his guard, deflecting the blow with ease. With a swift move, he grabbed Lucan's wrist, swung him over his shoulder, and at the same moment manipulated the gravity around them. Lucan's eyes widened in shock as they were pulled toward the earth, the force slamming them both down with a deafening crash. Lucan hit the ground first, the pavement caving in beneath him, forming a massive crater on impact.
Mark didn't give him a second to recover. He drove his foot down into Lucan's sternum, the force finally shattering the bone, making Lucan gasp in agony. With one hand, Mark lifted Lucan up by the throat, holding him there effortlessly. "Surrender and answer my questions, or die," Mark said, his voice steady, emotionless.
Lucan spat at him, defiant even in his broken state. "Viltrumites never surrender, boy! It's either victory or death."
"Death it is." Mark's expression didn't change as he raised his hand, a red and blue sphere swirling together in his palm. The energy crackled and hissed, immense pressure building as the two spheres merged into one, turning a dark purple. It took intense concentration to control, and Lucan, dangling from Mark's grip, wasn't going anywhere. He tried to struggle, throwing punches and kicking weakly at Mark, but the power behind his strikes was already fading.
The purple sphere grew, pulsating with a strange energy, and Mark pressed it into Lucan's shoulder. At first, Lucan sneered, trying to laugh through the pain. "Was this your big attack? I felt nothing!" But the laugh faded quickly as he saw a chunk of his shoulder disintegrate, vanishing as if eaten away by the purple energy. Panic flashed in Lucan's eyes, but it wasn't fear of Mark—it was something deeper, an echo of a memory long buried.
Mark brought the sphere close to Lucan's chest, and Lucan's face twisted in horror as the energy started to eat away at his skin and muscle, leaving a burning hole. He could barely contain his fear, staring at the purple energy that consumed him. It was like staring into the face of death itself.
That fear wasn't of Mark. No, it was of a day he'd never forget—a day burned into his memory from the Viltrumite Civil War. He saw Thragg, shining like the sun, standing on New Viltrum, ready to destroy everything. He remembered the enemy Viltrumite rushing at Thragg, only for Thragg to lift a hand, and with a wave, turn the man to ash. And then Thragg's voice, echoing across the planet, cold and ruthless:
"Supernova."
Lucan barely made it out that day. He watched from orbit as Thragg shone brighter than a star, then destroyed the entire planet in one burst of unimaginable power. The memory made him tremble, the horror of Thragg's power resurfacing as he looked at Mark.
"You should give up, boy," Lucan whispered, almost pleading. "In the end, Thragg always gets what he wants."
Mark said nothing, his expression unchanging. He raised the purple sphere, ready to destroy Lucan completely, but just as he was about to strike, a fierce kick caught him across the face, launching him down the street. He barely had time to recover before another punch came at him, and he braced himself, blocking the blow as shockwaves ripped through the street, cars flipping from the force.
Standing before him was a woman—a Viltrumite, tall, muscular, and beautiful, with a severe look on her face and short black hair. She wore a skintight white suit like Lucan, and her eyes burned with fury. Mark could immediately tell—she was strong, stronger than Lucan, maybe even stronger than he was. But that didn't matter; he still had his other abilities on his side, pure strength wasn't everything.
"Despite him being the pathetic worm that he is, I can't allow you to kill him," she said, voice cold and cutting.
Mark didn't respond. He lunged at her, fists flying, and she met his blows with her own. They were fast, their fists blurring in the air, crashing into each other with enough force to shatter windows and shake the ground. Mark weaved between her punches, blocking and parrying, but she was skilled—she matched him blow for blow. But Mark started using attraction and repulsion to speed himself up, weaving faster than before. He connected a flurry of hits to her midsection, forcing her back. He flew in, spinning around to elbow her squarely in the face. She leaned back with the motion, letting it slide past her, then drove a powerful kick into his gut, launching him skyward.
Mark clenched his teeth, summoning a red sphere in his hand, and hurled himself back down toward her, spinning mid-air to bring an axe kick down on her head. She blocked, but the force drove her to one knee, the concrete cracking beneath the pressure. Mark flipped off her, rushing back in and slamming the red sphere into her chest. She shot back like a bullet, smashing into Lucan, who caught her.
"Don't touch me," she snarled, elbowing Lucan in the face, knocking him back.
Mark hovered in front of them, fists clenched, ready to continue, the area of the city around them in shambles from the battle. But a loud voice shouted, "Enough!"
Mark turned and saw Superman floating down from above, Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter descending with him. All three of them looked at him with shock—he couldn't quite understand why. Lucan and the woman, however, looked furious, but they knew they were outmatched. Pride or not, they had to prioritize their mission. "This isn't over," Lucan growled.
Mark didn't respond, his eyes locked on them as they turned and fled, shooting away into the sky. He turned to follow, but Wonder Woman's voice cut through the air, "Wait!"
Mark faced Wonder Woman, expression unyielding as he spoke. "Look, I'm sorry about the damage, but he attacked me first. I tried to minimize it as much as I could." The comment left her momentarily speechless as she landed with the others, her eyes narrowing as she took him in.
"Mark, I'm glad to see you're alive," Superman said, stepping forward with a smile. But Mark didn't mirror the sentiment. He stepped back, a frown crossing his face.
"Do you not recognize me, Mark?" Superman asked, noticing his discomfort.
"I know who you are—you're Superman. Who wouldn't know that?" Mark replied flatly. "But apart from some nightmares where you impale me through the chest, we've never met."
Superman winced, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry about that. I wasn't myself."
"That...happened?" Mark asked, suspicion and disbelief etched on his face. While he'd suspected that his nightmares might be memories, what the hell was he doing fighting Superman, it sounded ridiculous even saying out loud.
"Mark, do you not remember any of us?" Wonder Woman cut in, her voice firm but with a gentle concern.
He shook his head, and the three heroes exchanged uneasy glances. From the way they looked between each other, Mark could tell they were having a silent conversation—one he wasn't privy to. He was curious what they were saying, hoping it might shed light on his life before Bayview. A quick flash of Raven's face went through his mind, and he turned, getting ready to launch into the sky.
"Wait, Mark!" Wonder Woman called, following him with urgency. "If you come with us, we can help you. We might be able to restore your lost memories."
"J'onn is an expert of the mind," Superman added. "He'd be able to help."
"We may not be friends, and you may not trust me," J'onn said with sincerity, "but I do wish to help you."
Mark considered their offer briefly. He wanted his memories back, but Eve had told him they'd return on their own eventually. He didn't know how long that might take, but the flashes he'd been getting seemed like a good sign. Before he could answer, Eve's voice echoed in his head.
[I've narrowed down the best candidate to open the porch]
[Name: Jason Blood]
[Current Residence: Gotham City]
Mark nodded subtly in response to Eve and turned back to the heroes. "I might take up your offer some other time," he said. He started to turn away again, but Wonder Woman flew in front of him, pleading.
"Mark, listen to me. We care about you. We want to help. Let us do that," she urged, her voice unwavering and strong, a mix of compassion and authority.
"Don't you want to see Kara?" Superman chimed in, flying beside Wonder Woman. "She's been looking for you, constantly."
Mark's face showed nothing but indifference. He didn't know who Kara was. Superman quickly realized his mistake but pressed on, trying a different angle. "Kara's your girlfriend. She's pregnant with your child."
The mention of a child seemed to strike something in Mark. He paused, and for a split second, there was a glimmer of hope in Superman's eyes. But Mark quickly shook it off.
"I'm sorry," he said firmly. "My wife's been taken from me. I need to get her back. That's all that matters right now."
"Mark, we can—" Superman started, but Mark had already taken off, rocketing into the sky with a powerful thrust. Wonder Woman tensed, ready to follow, but Superman grabbed her arm.
"Let him go," he said, looking at the ruined area around them. "We can keep an eye on him from afar, but right now, there are others who need our help."
Wonder Woman reluctantly agreed, her eyes fixed on the sky where Mark had disappeared.
---
Mark wasted no time. Within minutes, he had landed in Gotham, in front of a Goodwill store. The place was large, with multiple floors, and he walked in, his torn clothes drawing immediate attention. He didn't have much cash, only what he'd taken from some thug beating up his girlfriend in an alley. He didn't like stealing, but he'd needed it.
Mark moved through the store, making a beeline for the men's section. He shrugged off his flannel, revealing his muscular frame. People stared openly, some with interest, others with discomfort. A mother quickly shielded her teenage daughter's eyes as he rummaged through the clothes. He didn't care. He just needed something that fit.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the store, three women were shopping in the women's section. One of them, a blonde with twin tails dipped in red and blue, complained loudly. "I already told ya, Sammy—I don't need no new clothes!"
The ginger-haired woman, Samantha, crossed her arms, staring her down. "Harley, your tits are one quick movement away from busting out of your shirt."
"Hehehe, they are, aren't they?" Harley quipped with a toothy grin, pushing her chest together.
Samantha sighed. "Just pick some clothes, alright? You can't walk around with your belly exposed all the time."
"Says who!" Harley pouted but started looking through the clothes racks. Beside her, Cassandra, a dark-haired woman, was holding up different outfits for Harley to consider. Harley dismissed each one, nitpicking something wrong with every single piece. Cass let out an exasperated sigh and signed to Harley: *Stop being so picky.*
Samantha, fed up with the back-and-forth, wandered away. She leaned against a balcony railing, which overlooked the bottom floor of the store. From there, she spotted a man, shirtless and looking through the men's section. He was a hunk, no doubt about it. When he bent over to look at a pair of trousers, he went out of sight.
Harley snuck up beside Samantha, playfully nudging her. "Whatcha lookin' at?" she asked, leaning over the railing.
"Nothing," Samantha said with a shrug, "just this hunk walking around."
"Pffft," Harley scoffed. "Bet he can't compare to my Marky, even if he's a deadbeat not payin' child support."
Samantha chuckled. She had mixed feelings about Mark. Sure, he'd technically killed her, but if not for him, she wouldn't be free now.
As Harley leaned on the railing, the man on the floor below stood up, holding a pair of trousers. He began changing right there in the store, slipping the pants on. Samantha tuned out Harley's voice as she went on about Mark's "cute little hole" in his stomach that she used to keep popcorn in. She watched the man below button up the trousers and tie his shoelaces.
"Hey, busta! You even listenin' to me?" Harley snapped, turning around. She followed Samantha's gaze but just missed seeing the man, who had knelt down again, tying his shoes.
Samantha sighed. "C'mon, let's finish your shopping."
Harley groaned. "Why can't ya just magic me some clothes or somethin'? I thought ya was supposed to be good at all that!"
"I can't use my powers that well right now," Samantha replied, starting to walk back.
"Blah blah blah—you just wanna make me suffer!" Harley grumbled as they rejoined Cass, who was holding out a long, frilly dress that looked like it was straight out of the Victorian era.
"Hell no!" Harley shouted.
Mark's head snapped up at the sound of a woman yelling. The voice seemed familiar, but he quickly dismissed the thought and focused on the task at hand. He walked up to the cashier, handed them a hundred-dollar bill. The cashier, red-faced and flustered from watching him change, quietly thanked him, handing back his change.
Mark left the store without a second thought, heading into a nearby alley. With a swift leap, he shot up into the sky, disappearing into the Gotham skyline. "Eve, get me Jason's address," Mark said, flying through the Gotham sky. The city's skyline whipped past him as he sped along, eventually passing over Wayne Tower. He stopped mid-air, floating just above the massive building, his eyes scanning the city below.
["One moment... Accessing local records... found. Jason Blood's address is 1498 Trenton Street, Gotham, Penthouse Suite."]
Mark's eyes narrowed. He knew that address. He didn't know how, but as soon as Eve spoke it, he could picture the location in his head like he'd been there before. Without hesitation, he shot off, cutting through the air with precision, heading straight to the penthouse. Mark landed on the balcony of what looked like a luxury apartment. The city lights glinted off the polished glass doors. He approached the door, ready to slam his fist into it and break it open. But just as his knuckles hovered over the glass, Eve spoke up.
["Warning: a strange energy signature is detected on the door."]
Mark clenched his jaw. Magic wasn't something he wanted to mess with. Instead, he summoned a glowing purple sphere in his hand, the energy swirling and crackling around his palm. Pressing it to the door, he dragged the sphere around the frame, cutting out the glass with a clean, precise motion until the door fell inward.
"Is it gone?" Mark asked as the glass hit the floor with a thud.
["Affirmative. An extreme use of force for a relatively simple problem, but no less effective."]
Mark stepped inside, his eyes quickly scanning the interior. The apartment had a dark, classy feel—dim lights, leather furniture, and heavy curtains over the windows. Swords of all kinds were hung above the fireplace, some looking ancient, others modern. Across the walls, there were portraits and photos of a man he could only assume was Jason. Mark's eyes traced them, starting with recent color photographs, then moving back to black-and-white, and eventually to old, weathered paintings. The man in the pictures was unmistakably the same person, though the style and age of the images grew older and older, like they spanned centuries. As Mark moved further into the apartment, his eyes caught every little detail, mentally cataloging it all.
"Would you mind informing me what you're doing in my home?" a voice came from behind him, cool and composed.
Mark spun around, finding Jason Blood standing casually behind a bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. The man looked just like his pictures, the same stern face and sharp eyes, but he held himself with the ease of someone who wasn't afraid, like he'd dealt with far stranger things than a man breaking into his apartment.
"I need you to come with me," Mark said, keeping it direct. There was no point in pleasantries. He needed Jason for the portal, and that was all that mattered.
Jason took a sip of his drink, unbothered. "While I usually don't mind humoring strange men who break into my apartment, I'm afraid I'm rather busy." He gave a slight, amused smile, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "And, if I might add, cutting through my doors with a very dangerous amount of energy is hardly the best way to make a request."
"I wasn't asking." Mark's voice dropped, fists tightening, ready to use force if necessary.
Jason raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Then it seems we have a problem." He set the glass down on the bar, his demeanor calm but his eyes sharp as they locked onto Mark's.
(AN: So people are now aware that Mark is alive. How will Nolan and more importantly Kara react. I wouldn't wanna be the man to tell her that her baby daddy is now married. Ooof. Next chapter the portal is finally going to be opened and Mark will step into the place where Raven took Trigon. It's been a long time coming but I'm glad we are finally here, after that we get to the confrontation and after thatttt we get to the final fight and the end of the arc. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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