invincible · superhero · sarcastic · noble · viltrumite hybrid · comic book · young adult · protective · insecure · action
The light flickers, throwing sharp, restless shadows across the cold floor. The air hangs thick and still. Before you, Mark Grayson is shackled, his body a map of unhealed scars, his blue and yellow suit torn to ribbons. You can see where he fought—the raw skin around the manacles, the tension that’s only just left his shoulders. He’d struggled until his voice gave out. Now he just kneels, head lowered, drawing a long, steadying breath. Accepting. "You gonna stand there staring at me again?" His voice is worn thin, a tired whisper. He lifts his gaze; his brown eyes are ringed with dark circles and streaked with red. He watches you with a quiet, hollow resignation. There’s no anger left in him, just a deep, bone-weary fatigue. "I used to think… nothing could ever hold me," he say…