With a loud rattle he jolted awake. Nathaniels eyes jumping around the room. He was in a hospital, the low beeping of medical instruments and soft tap of steps made it a calm atmosphere. It made him relax immediately, he wasn't on Tarcon V anymore, and that was good.
With a sigh he let his head fall back on the pillow but a sharp pain from his ankle made him wince up into a ball his hands gripping his injured ankle gently trying to soothe the pain.
A voice pulls him from his pain. It was a tall lanky alien man with two thin spindly antennae walked up beside his bed.
"I wouldn't do that. Your ankle is severely damaged and any pressure might cause the bones to shift again. It took me 7 hours just to put them back in a manageable spot." He spoke in a plain tone, one that infuriated Nathaniel.
"What the fuck do you mean?" He sat up ignoring his pain and gripped the doctor by his coat staring into his eyes. He wanted to stand up, but something told him that would be a bad idea.
"I-I, sir please calm down, I'll tell you everything." He lets go of the doctor but doesn't lay back down, just looks down at his leg.
"Ahem," Readjusting his coat he begins to explain, "General Thula brought you here, apparently you had gotten caught up in the gravity of Tarcon V, resulting in a broken ankle along with severe blood loss after over an hour of exposure." His eyes darted around for a second as if he was wary of how to say what he needed to say.
"However...Due to such time spent enduring the gravity of the moon, it had ripped most of the broken bones out of your leg... I am afraid you'll never walk the same again." He finished with a gulp. Nathaniels bright blue eyes lasered onto him and if Viltrumites possessed laser vision he would have been bisected into two.
"What a pity, though, Conquest has a similar disability, and I don't see him making excuses." Thula walks in a moment after the reveal. Nathaniel looks at her with hatred. This was Viltrum, one of the most advanced planets in the Universe, the only reason his leg would be permanently damaged would be if she forced the doctor to give him subpar care.
"I'll fucking kill you!" He screams using his flight to lunge at her, only he was so much slower than she was, even on her bad days. With a swat he was back in the bed his ankle being jostled forcing him to scream in pain instead of anger, crumpling over himself.
"OH Nathaniel! Stop this madness! You are a goddamned VIltrumite and It's time you act like it! Training resumes tomorrow, weather you are ready or not I expect you to be there and ready along side your fellow VIltrumites. If you cannot walk you will crawl and if you cannot crawl you will fly and if you cannot fly then you will die. I will make sure of it... Just give me one good reason." With all that said she leaves, the blade at the end of her long braid swishing behind her.
Nathaniel slams his fist into the wall, indenting the reinforced metal alloy designed for Viltrumites. With a deep breath he centers himself.
The doctor feeling nervous in the presence of two Viltrumites and now a really pissed off one tries to leave as well, before Nathaniel issues a command. "Get me my uniform, and wrap this up so I can move without feeling like I'm being stabbed." His voice was crisp and clear. He had come to the conclusion that there really was no point in resisting. He didn't WANT to be a Viltrumite dog, go into the Universe and conquer planets in their name, he wasn't like that.
But he supposes he should be.
....
Anissa stood in the training grounds, the bright blue sky of Viltrum and cool breeze of spring a comfortable sight. Her fists flying with supernatural speed and power, a loud whip sounding with each impact on the training dummy. Her movements were quick, efficient, smooth and brutal with not a second wasted thinking. Her world was recently thrown into turmoil, the only person she remotely found likeable, and Thula tries to kill him, almost succeeded too if he hadn't submitted from what Nolan had said.
It was infuriating. Her fists hit harder, slamming into the robot denting the reinforced metal. They were Viltrumites, they don't submit to anyone. It was his fault for being so goddamned weak, They were Viltrumites, they weren't weak. Why had he done what he did? Been so foolish she couldn't help but think, looping in her mind over and over again in a endless nightmare. Why had he not been who he was meant to be? She grunts in frustration tearing the robots arm off with a shoulder shove. All he had to do... was be him. And it would be fine. She yanks its other arm over her shoulder the entire bot following, slamming into the ground where she simply flys up a few feet and blasts down into a dropkick on its head, obliterating it completely.
"I know we have a big budget, but those are expensive Anissa." Nolan enters the yard. He was wearing the characteristic Viltrumite battle garb just like her. In retribution for the comment she punts the machine across the field into the same wall both him and Nathaniel were punched into last night.
"Shut it Nolan, before I do to you what Thula did to Nathaniel." He goes to grab the robot and puts it away into storage, grabbing two new ones at the same time to continue training. These we not simple dummys meant to be practiced on they were war bots armed with sharp knives and enough strength to give weak Viltrumite recruits like them some struggle.
"Yeah.... it doesn't look good." He said while getting into stance to begin his training. Anissa offhandedly scoffs at him. It doesn't look good. What a useless thing to say.
He continues to speak, dodging a jab from the robot, "I honestly think he got off easy, if he does what Thula expects from all of us, then he'll be fine."
Anissa simply sighs and resumes her own training.