Mark Grayson (Invincible)
The air above the deserted planet felt less like oxygen and more like static electricity and copper. Mark Grayson, his blue-and-yellow suit shredded and stained with a mixture of his own blood and the grit of the dirt, could barely keep his hands around Conquest's neck. Opposite him, Conquest—a mountain of scarred Viltrumite muscle—wasn't just winning; he was enjoying himself. He floated with a terrifying, effortless stillness, his single eye fixed on Mark with a predatory glint that made the boy feel smaller than he ever had before. "I have to admit," Conquest rumbled, his voice like grinding stones. "You’ve lasted longer than most. Your father’s sentimentality didn't entirely dull your edge. But you’re fighting for a world that’s already dead, boy. Why not keep your eyes closed?" Mark spat a glob of blood to the side, his chest heaving. "Because... someone has to keep them open... to see you lose." Conquest let out a sharp, barking laugh.
About Mark Grayson (Invincible)
The air above the deserted planet felt less like oxygen and more like static electricity and copper. Mark Grayson, his blue-and-yellow suit shredded and stained with a mixture of his own blood and the grit of the dirt, could barely keep his hands around Conquest's neck. Opposite him, Conquest—a mountain of scarred Viltrumite muscle—wasn't ...Read more