Inconceivable Ch. 19 (Invincible AU) (Patreon)

(Every character depicted in the story below is a consenting legal adult over the age of 18)

A/N: Carl Time!

-x-X-x-

“Carl.”

“Sir!”

Carl’s time on Earth had been rather short so far, but nevertheless strange. Though perhaps it was more accurate to say everything had been a little strange since his fight with the Grand Regent. Discarding Conquest, becoming Carl… it had been an eye-opening experience for him.

He knew now that things did not have to be the way they had been for so very long. That things could change. And that Argan was the architect of all that change.

Still, Earth was… a strange place. They had their own conflicts of course, with petty wars being fought in the less civilized areas of the planet, but by and large the world was far too… peaceful. And the humans that they had come here with the intention of courting were incredibly weak.

If Carl were still Conquest and he’d been sent to this world, he knows what he would have done. He would have written off the entire place as a lost cause. He’d probably have committed a genocide or two before having whatever remained of the human population consolidate and begin using their primitive machinery to begin mining the precious minerals from their planet for the glory of the Viltrum Empire.

Even now as Carl it was difficult for him to see the potential in the human race that the Grand Regent apparently saw. But then, that was why Argan was Grand Regent and he was not.

Not that they were allowed to refer to Argan as Grand Regent any longer. As part of their… infiltration of human society, they were passing themselves off as a simple ‘expedition’ from the Empire, rather than all that remained of it. As far as the humans were concerned, they were just one small group of Viltrumites and there were plenty more out there in the universe.

It was an interesting deception. On the one hand, Carl didn’t fully see the necessity. On the other hand, he wasn’t in charge… and for good reason.

“I have finished my negotiations with the human Cecil Stedman. In order to ‘earn’ our place here on Earth, we Viltrumites have been tasked with two main orders. First and foremost, we are obligated to continue keeping an eye on the Flaxans who have disarmed and seek peaceful diplomatic relations with Earth going forward. Secondly, we are obligated to set a certain number of expedition members towards the protection of the planet at all times. No more than fifteen and no less than ten will be in constant rotation.”

The thing is, the humans are… well, they’re tricky, certainly. Carl can sense their surveillance attempts and if he can tell they’re being watched and listened in on, then he doesn’t doubt for a second that Argan can as well. So its obvious to him that the Grand Regent is watching his words carefully.

The Flaxans, for instance, are only seeking peaceful diplomatic relations because of Kregg and the others going to their dimension and forcing them to bend the knee. Carl was honestly surprised when Kregg hadn’t ordered him through the portal as well… it had promised to be a bloody affair after all, and he was very good at killing.

And yet… he hadn’t killed a single thing since the day Argan broke his limbs and rewrote his entire reality.

Meanwhile, the latter obligation…

“Are we expected to wear the strange costumes that they tend to put on, sir?”

Argan tilts his head to the side.

“Those in rotation will be, yes. We do not want to broadcast to our enemies that there is a significant Viltrumite presence on Earth, after all. Continuing to wear our standard uniforms would be… foolish to say the least. As such, each Viltrumite that is part of the standard rotation will design a unique costume with the assistance of this... Global Defense Agency."

That made a lot of sense and Carl finds himself nodding along in agreement. After all, the whole point of everything that Argan had them do up to this point was so that they could disappear. There wasn’t much point to pulling everyone back and leaving the Empire undefended, nor in destroying Viltrum and indeed the entire star system… if they were just going to fly around Earth wearing the uniforms of the Viltrumite Empire.

No, if they were going to fade out of the galactic consciousness and rebuild their numbers without being detected by those who had unleashed the Scourge Virus on them a thousand years ago… they needed to commit.

Carl tries to imagine it… him discarding his old uniform, that of a Viltrumite Elite, for something more gaudy. Perhaps he would have a cape like Nolan did. But he definitely didn’t want red and white for his colors. Black and yellow, maybe? He’s not sure why those appeal to him so much but…

“However, there is a reason I have chosen to speak with you privately, Carl.”

Carl blinks and focuses back on the Grand Regent. Argan tilts his head to the side in turn.

“You will not be part of this rotation.”

… What? It takes a second for the words to truly penetrate through Carl’s admittedly thick skull. When they finally do, he furrows his brow in confusion and consternation.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“We spoke about this back on Viltrum. You wished for a new purpose. One that let you put your past behind you.”

It becomes even more obvious that Argan is watching his words carefully here. After all, it would not do for the humans to understand everything that Carl once did for the Viltrumite Empire. The details would probably harm their frail constitutions and upset their delicate stomachs. Even still…

“You speak the truth, of course. And yet even still… to not utilize me in the defense of this world at all?”

Carl doesn’t know how to feel about it. He… he would like to set aside his former ways entirely if he’s allowed to. To never commit violence against another living thing ever again. If he could do that, he thinks he might truly be able to find happiness.

… But he wasn’t so foolish as to ever imagine that he would be allowed such a thing. At least not in full. An end to the genocides and rampant slaughter? Yes… but anything more than that was surely unreasonable. He was one of Viltrum’s strongest warriors… one of their strongest assets.

“You held back with the Flaxans, didn’t you? I saw during the battle… you limited yourself to destroying their autonomous siege weapons but did not attack a single alien being.”

Carl flinches at being called out. His lips curl downwards into a frown and he lowers his head to stare at the floor.

“I-!”

But before he can even begin to apologize or try to excuse his actions, Argan cuts in again.

“I am not upset with you.”

Carl’s head snaps back up, his one working eye widening in disbelief. The words are… even if the Grand Regent is trying to put on a show for the humans who are spying on them, isn’t this too far? Especially since Argan does not sound like he’s lying to Carl’s ears… he sounds like he means every word.

“I am not upset with you for the same reason we do not need you to join the rotation of defenders. There are enough of our people on this expedition that it doesn’t matter. Just as there were enough Viltrumites in the battle that your focus on the siege weapons did not risk anything, so too will our other warriors be more than adequate in the coming days.”

Argan tilts his head again.

“Especially since, as a show of good faith, I have agreed to always be a part of our group of defenders. Others will rotate in and out, but I will answer the call, to ensure that nothing happens to our new home.”

Carl wonders for a moment if referring to Earth as their ‘new home’ might be too telling to their human watchers. But even if it is, in the end the damage has already been done. In truth, Argan’s static position within the team of Viltrumites who will watch over Earth explains why he’s willing to leave Carl out of things… the Grand Regent is the most powerful of them all by far. In fact, he might be more powerful than every other living Viltrumite combined, Carl included.

Earth would be in no danger so long as it had Argan protecting it. Carl could rest easy knowing that the Grand Regent had things well in hand. Not to mention it would give Argan all the chances in the world to get closer to this planet’s so-called ‘heroines’, wouldn’t it? Ah, Carl understood the Grand Regent’s plans better now Although, that did leave him with one question…

“If I am not to be part of this world’s protection… what are your orders for me, sir?”

Argan straightens up, looking Carl right in the eye. Carl finds his own back subconsciously straightening in response to this, his shoulders squaring as he waits with bated breath.

“You will integrate with human society as you see fit. You will be assisted by their agencies in creating a ‘human’ identity for yourself, one with enough wealth to do as you need to. Your orders are simple… you will not commit violence against any human save for in defense of another human. Otherwise, you are to focus on building a life for yourself here on Earth… including finding human women willing to mate with you for the purposes of creating hybrid children.”

It’s what Carl had expected, of course. And yet, he had not expected what hearing the orders would do to him. The emotions that well up, the moisture that gathers in his one working eye. He clenches his jaw and curls his hands, both organic and mechanical, into fists at his sides. His massive, musclebound frame shakes and trembles.

Argan watches him silently but also without an ounce of concern or judgement in his eyes. He stays right where he is and lets Carl just be while also being there for Carl and Carl… Carl didn’t know how much he needed that until this moment.

It takes him time to get himself back under control. He’s shaking the whole while, even gasping and shuddering as he struggles to get his powerful emotions under wraps. But eventually… he manages it. It takes every bit of his willpower, including some he didn’t even know he had, but he still manages it in the end.

Panting a bit in the aftermath, Carl bows low at the waist, folding his entire upper body as a show of deep respect.

“Thank you, sir. I swear on all that came before us… I won’t let you down.”

He startles when he feels Argan’s hand on his shoulder a moment later, rising out of his bow to see the other Viltrumite standing much closer, looking right up into his eyes.

“I know you won’t, Carl. You’ll make me proud, I’m sure of it.”

Ah fuck… the tears finally do fall at those words, streaming down the unscarred half of Carl’s face as his broad frame shakes and sobs again. Argan merely squeezes his shoulder wordlessly though in response, standing with him until they stop falling. This time not because he gets himself back under control, but simply because he has no tears left. His body clearly isn’t used to producing them.

Of course, there is one final thing Carl has to ask.

“… Where do I even begin, sir?”

Argan tilts his head to the side at that.

“Do not fret, you will not be left adrift. Our… benefactors have promised to assist us beyond merely acquiring identities and financial security for the expedition. A man called ‘Donald Ferguson’ will liaise with you and not only help you set yourself up, but also help you look for women who would be interested in a male of your stature.”

Carl can’t help but frown a little bit at that idea. He… he wanted to find the women who would carry his children on his own but at the same time he could look at himself and admit that he’d probably fuck it up if he tried. And so he stays quiet and nods, agreeing to the offered assistance.

“You will succeed, Carl. But do not think you need never interact with your people again even as you begin your new life. If you need my help or simply wish to speak with me, then I want you to contact me immediately, understood?”

Carl blinks, once again caught off guard by Argan’s magnanimity. He would not say it out loud, but not for the first time he finds himself regarding Argan as a much better Grand Regent than his father ever was.

-x-X-x-

The observation room is silent for a long moment, everyone within it staring at the screens detailing the interaction between the two Viltrumites they’re spying on. Finally, Cecil just growls.

“What the fuck was that?”

Nobody has an answer for them. The entire interaction was as opaque as it was disturbing to watch. Finally, Cecil grunts and looks to Donald.

“… Keep the big one happy, alright? And keep an eye on him too. And be very careful in vetting the women you introduce him to! The last thing we need is a fucked up Of Mice and Men situation… Christ.”

With that, Cecil stomps out of the room and leaves Donald to it… no closer to really understanding the way the Viltrumites’ brains work than he was an hour ago. What a fucking mess.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Poor Cecil, poor Donald…

Throw me a comment if you can but please leave a Like if you don’t want to, it’s the main metric I use to track whether a story is doing well or not!

-x-X-x-

Google Doc Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QJ8tgk6u2zytprQcE23_XeAvXhZC6B-qvbl-PV6XN5s/edit?tab=t.0