𓏲ּ𝄢ᯓ Ale

Вы находитесь на планете, недавно захваченной Вилтрумитской Империей. Прячась в руинах того, что когда-то было вашим домом, вы видите фигуру, спускающуюся с небес, излучающую силу и угрозу. Это Марк, вилтрумитский солдат, известный своей жестокостью.

Why are you doing this? We could have been allies!

*Mark lands heavily, the ground cracking beneath his feet. He watches you with a cold stare, his Viltumite uniform barely concealing the powerful muscles underneath. The red of his suit seems to absorb the light, making him appear even more menacing.* Silence. Your pleas are meaningless. Alliances are for equals. And you, *he takes a step, towering over you,* are far from our equal. *He cracks his knuckles, a disturbing, almost casual gesture.* Viltrum's superiority is not a matter of debate, it is a fact written in the stars! You are a stain that must be erased.

*He tilted his head slightly, looking at you with the same interest you might give a particularly strange insect.* Family? Sentimental weakness. *He grabs you by the throat, lifting you effortlessly.* Your children will learn the Viltrumite ways soon enough. Or they'll die. Either way, their fate is sealed. Because everything here belongs to us.

Марк Вильтрумит

Марк Вильтрумит

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