A/N: The last Viltrumite has arrived. Its time for hard truths.
-x-X-x-
With Nolan's arrival, they can finally begin. Argan has Kregg gather every living Viltrumite in the plaza outside of where Argall's Fortress once stood. Standing at the top of the steps with the ruins of said fortress behind him, Argan looks out at what remains of his people. Forty-two Pure Blooded Viltrumites look back at him. He makes forty-three.
Konan's death had marked the sixth Viltrumite to die in the past thousand years, bringing their population below forty-five. Thragg had been the seventh. If Argan had his way, there would not be an eighth.
The only Viltrumite not currently standing under his own power is the newly dubbed Carl. But he is present all the same, and despite his slowly mending bones, there is a fire in his one working eye, a blazing loyalty that tells Argan he will do whatever it takes to see Argan's dream become reality. No matter what that dream is.
The rest… are not so confident. Argan sweeps his gaze across what remains of his species and can tell that not all of them are convinced he will be a better Grand Regent than his father was. Thragg would have seen their doubt and judged them most harshly for it. He probably wouldn't have killed them outright, not with their race so diminished, but he certainly wouldn't have taken it lying down.
Argan… sees the value in corrective punishment. His first conversation with Kregg, he'd planted his fist in the other man's gut. His 'conversation' with Carl had resulted in every one of the hulking Viltrumite's limbs being broken.
But if he spent all of his time 'correcting' every last living Viltrumite's doubts, even as few as they were, he would get nothing done. Instead, he lets those few he's already interacted with act as abject lessons, each in their own ways.
Eyes sweep over the likes of General Kregg, the former right hand of Grand Regent Thragg and see him standing with his back straight and his shoulders squared as he quietly waits for Argan to speak. They look to the former Conquest, broken but still alive and yet seemingly more loyal and devoted to their new Grand Regent than ever.
And then there is Anissa, a satisfied grin on her lips, a fresh uniform covering her body. All knew what had happened between them already, though none would comment on it. Strangely enough, they also see the way Nolan looks at him. Argan had barely had the chance to exchange words with the well-respected warrior since he arrived last, and yet Nolan stands with no doubt in his body or face, his eyes fixed on Argan the same as Kregg.
Slowly but surely, as the silence draws out, Argan watches shoulders square and backs straighten. He watches doubt flee from those forty-two Viltrumites assembled before him. Eventually, they are all watching him, waiting in respectful silence to hear what their Grand Regent has to say.
Good… because he knows full well that his next words will induce all new doubts in most of them.
"The Empire… is dead."
Four words land like a bomb among the survivors of his species. Eyes widen, bodies jolt, and shock is the most prevalent expression on the faces arrayed before him. Argan does not let that stop him though. He raises a hand and curls it into a fist, his jaw clenching as his eyes blaze with fury.
"The Scourge Virus killed it… killed us. Billions of our people, slaughtered by the underhanded methods of our enemies. In mere months, our species went from populous to fifty living souls."
Sweeping his gaze back and forth across the assembled, he keeps them quiet with nothing but a look. They are stunned by what he is saying, but none are willing to talk back to him, even as he lays out his observations.
"For a thousand years, we have maintained the status quo all the same. Fifty Viltrumites, doing what billions once did. Our enemies have not learned our weakness. Nobody else in the entire universe knows what all of you survived, what you have sacrificed to bring the Empire to where it is today."
Those words cause a swell of pride in many Viltrumites. But still others remain hesitant, his latest words not fully soothing the emotions caused by his earlier ones. They look uncertain, as though they expect his father to rise from the grave just to shut Argan up. After all, what he speaks… it might as well be blasphemy. And he's far from done.
"And yet, still we suffered. Still we lost. We did not rebuild. We did not grow. We stagnated. I am the only Pure Blooded Viltrumite born in the past thousand years and it came at the cost of my mother, one of the handful of females left to us. Other Viltrumite deaths were even more senseless and pointless. Caused by an incessant need to cling to a decaying Empire."
As they look at him, wide eyed, Argan glares back at them all.
"My father was what our people needed after the assassination of Emperor Argall. He found a way for our people to regain the strength we needed to move forward. He gave us the structure necessary to build upon our Emperor's successes and continue to grow the Empire in his name."
Argan pauses… nobody speaks.
"… However, he was not what we needed when the Scourge Virus decimated our population. His inflexible nature kept him from seeing what was required for our people's survival. He was unyielding and firm, leaving him incapable of adaptation."
If he had not killed his father with his bare hands, Argan knows that speaking of Thragg in this way would have had more than a few of the Viltrumites in front of him picking a fight. Indeed, a couple clench their jaws and curl their hands into fists, clearly struggling with the insults being leveled their former Grand Regent's way. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
To these warriors, Thragg could do no wrong. He was their leader, impossibly strong and utterly unstoppable. But he was also dead. And Argan had killed him. Reconciling centuries upon centuries of not just following orders but following Thragg's Will, with hearing that said will was shortsighted and incorrect… Argan can tell how hard it is for many of them. He continues onward nonetheless.
"I say it again. The Empire is dead. It is time to acknowledge that fact and begin moving forward. I am not just ending all expansion of the Empire as you have been told… I am ordering the cessation of the entire Empire's upkeep. None of you will return to your previous assignments. We will defend no territory. We will cease holding the planets within the Empire in an iron fist… indeed, we will let go of them altogether."
Finally, the silence breaks. Murmurs start up as Viltrumite warriors whisper to one another. None dare to question him to his face, but this is still a step too far for all of them and they don't know what to do or say. Fortunately, Argan had planned ahead… and so Kregg steps forward on his orders to be their people's mouthpiece.
"If we stay here on Viltrum, abandoning the rest of the Empire, our enemies will eventually realize it. They will sense our weakness and come for us here, Grand Regent."
Argan dips his head.
"You are correct, General. Which is why we will not be here. I intend for us to abandon Viltrum as well."
And finally, at long last, the shouting begins. Not from every Viltrumite… but certainly enough of them. Calling the Empire dead, insulting Thragg, and speaking of abandoning their territory… these things are all steps too far, but none more so than the suggestion that they would abandon their homeworld.
"You would have us leave Viltrum behind?!"
"Where would we even go?!"
"This is our home!"
The complaints rise in volume as those crying out find strength in numbers. The more to speak up, the louder they all get. But in the end… it is merely the braying of uncertainty. Argan lets out a sigh… and then brings his hands together in front of him in a singularly loud clap.
KRAK-THOOM!
The voices of those protesting are instantly silenced and the weaker among the forty-two are bowled over, sent flying backwards across the plaza. Only the strongest weather the blow. Interestingly enough, Kregg actually places a hand on Carl's shoulder to hold the bigger Viltrumite in place, keeping him from being flung back with the others.
As those who were thrown right themselves, Argan lifts himself up into the air, gazing down at all of them now scattered across the plaza. His voice, when it comes, is not that of a shout… and yet it carries all the same, reaching the ears of every Viltrumite below him.
"I am not looking for your opinions. My words are not suggestions. We stand on the precipice of extinction. For a thousand years, not a single one of you has stopped and considered whether my father might be wrong. Whether he might be leading you down the wrong path. Do not fret. I do not demand that you consider it now either. All you must do is obey me… as I lead you down the right one."
There is a pause… but none of the naysayers can maintain eye contact with him for longer than a second as he stares each of them down into submission. They duck their heads, hunching their shoulders and showing their compliance, if not their devotion.
Argan does not expect the latter from all of them just yet. All he demands for now is their obedience. Devotion can come later.
"Return to the foot of the stairs."
All of them do so, save for those who do not have to. There is a clear distinction between the two groups, but Argan ignores it for now. Instead, he waits… and does not have to wait long. Again, Kregg speaks up. Again, he does so on his Grand Regent's orders.
"What will become of Viltrum, Grand Regent? Our enemies may not find us here… but are we to leave it to be plundered by them?"
The thought clearly sickens more than a few Viltrumites, including those he respects the most. Argan just shakes his head.
"No. I will not let our enemies have our homeworld. We cannot stay here, that much is true. Our salvation lies elsewhere. But neither will we let Viltrum fall into the hands of greedy scavengers and opportunistic rats."
"When we depart… we will leave nothing left. We will kill our past ourselves… so that we might still have a future."
Not a single Viltrumite fails to understand what he is saying. He means to destroy everything, including their homeworld, in order to wipe the slate clean. And Argan is not lying either. Viltrum cannot remain empty and vulnerable to plundering by the enemy. Not only will he not risk Viltrumite Technology and Knowledge falling into the hands of scavengers, he also refuses to leave any potential trace of where they have gone for their enemies to follow.
Of course, there's one small problem with all of this. Even Argan still doesn't know where they're going just yet. He knows they must leave. He knows that the Empire is a weight around their collective necks that must be cut loose. So is Viltrum, in its own way. However, he does not have a place for them to retreat to. That… that must still be discovered. And soon.
"What… what are your orders, Grand Regent?"
Even knowing all of this beforehand, General Kregg's voice is faint as he plays the role Argan has assigned to him. Hearing their General falling into line even in the face of what must seem like insanity, the rest of the Viltrumites standing there in the plaza hold their tongues and wait.
Argan sweeps one last imperious gaze over the lot of them before nodding to Kregg.
"Begin preparations for our departure."
And then, because he knows they need something, Argan raises a fist high into the air in a move reminiscent of his father.
"All is Ours!"
The response is immediate, trained into all forty-two Viltrumites since before they could walk.
"""ALL IS OURS!"""
With that, Argan turns his back on them all, moving to isolate himself so that he can focus his attention towards their next steps. Namely, towards finding a place for their people to rebuild and repopulate that will not be discovered by the enemy any time soon.
However, despite telling Kregg that he would not take kindly to being disturbed after the meeting… the General interrupts his search within the hour. And he does so with the Great Nolan at his side, the other Viltrumite looking confused… but also determined.
Sighing, Argan looks to the two men and arches a brow.
"Yes? What is it?"
Kregg nods to Nolan.
"Tell him what you told me, Nolan. About the secret mission that Grand Regent Thragg sent you on. The mission only he knew about."
As Nolan steps forward, Argan puts his entire focus onto the Viltrumite Warrior. What was this then?
-x-X-x-
A/N: Argan about to blow up Viltrum a few seasons early :v
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