"Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return," Leonardo da Vinci....
The living room was quiet, bathed in cold evening moon light. A faint breeze crept through the open window, carrying the smell of freshly mowed grass. The kind of peaceful setting that made you forget, for just a moment, that anything could go wrong.
But Devin—now Marcus Grayson—knew better.
He sat beside Mark on the couch, legs swinging just above the floor. His twin brother—well, technically one year younger, but they looked the same age—was fiddling with a toy robot, completely unaware that their lives were about to change forever.
Across from them stood Nolan Grayson—Omni-Man. Calm. Towering. Arms folded like a statue carved from steel. But his eyes… they looked tired. Not from lack of sleep, but from the weight of the lie he was about to tell.
He cleared his throat.
"Okay, boys… bear with me. This is going to be a little awkward for all of us."
Mark perked up. "Awkward how?"
"You'll see," Nolan muttered with a chuckle. Then he met their eyes and took a breath.
"You guys may have noticed that I'm not like normal dads."
Marcus barely held in a smirk. Yeah. No kidding.
"Your mother and I think it's time you knew the truth. We think you're old enough for me to tell you… where I really come from."
Mark's brow furrowed in curiosity.
Marcus already knew what was coming—but he forced himself to keep a blank face. Play dumb. You're still a kid. You don't know the truth yet.
Nolan stepped forward, his voice becoming softer… almost reverent.
"Millions of miles from here, out in deep space… is the planet Viltrum."
Marcus kept his breathing even, but inside, his mind spun. There it is.
"It's a cool blue oasis," Nolan said, eyes distant as if picturing it, "alone in a solar system much like our own. I was born on this planet."
Mark's mouth parted in awe. "You're an alien?"
"A Viltrumite," Nolan nodded. "We're very similar to humans—except we can fly, move at super speed, and possess immense strength."
Marcus smiled. Even knowing it was a fabricated tale, Nolan made it sound beautiful. Mythic. True. He imagined what the real Viltrum must be like—harsh, cold, a war-forged empire. But this version… this lie Nolan was spinning—it made it feel like paradise.
"When our people come of age," Nolan continued, "we leave Viltrum and venture out into the galaxy. Using our abilities to help lesser-developed worlds. We choose to uplift them. Protect them."
Marcus nearly winced at that. That's not helping. That's conquest dressed up in a cape.
"I volunteered to relocate to Earth," Nolan said proudly. "To be its sole protector. That's when I met your mother.
His face softened at the memory.
"And eventually… we had both of you. Which, uh… was unexpected." He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "But life has a way of surprising you."
Marcus saw it. That shift in Nolan's posture. The laugh disappeared. His eyes locked onto theirs—his voice, now solemn.
"I know this is a lot to take in at one time, but… you're half Viltrumite, my boys. And you're getting older. Things are going to start to change for you."
Mark leaned forward, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.
"You'll hit puberty. Acne. Your voice will crack. You'll start to grow hair in strange places…"
Mark scrunched his face.
Marcus held back a grin. You'd think even Viltrumite puberty would sound cooler than that.
"…and," Nolan continued, his voice growing firmer, prouder, "you're going to start developing superpowers of your own."
Mark's eyes lit up.
"Just like me," Nolan said. "Super strength. Speed. Flight. The whole bit."
For a moment, time stood still.
Mark's toy fell from his hands, forgotten.
"You'll both be able to do incredible things," Nolan said. "Things no one else on this planet can. But it'll take time. Training. Focus."
He stepped forward and knelt in front of them, voice low and full of gravity.
"Do you understand?"
Mark didn't answer right away. His gaze was somewhere far away, like he was picturing himself soaring through the clouds.
Then, slowly, he whispered—
"…Am I going to be able to fly?"
Nolan smiled—genuine, warm. The kind of smile a kid wants to believe in.
"Yes, son. You are going to be able to fly."
Mark let out a laugh, like a balloon lifting into the sky. His fists clenched with giddy excitement as he bounced slightly on the couch.
Marcus, for his part, sat still.
Silent.
Processing.
Then it hit him—not the fake story. Not the layers of lies Nolan just fed them.
But one truth that couldn't be denied:
He was going to be able to fly.
His chest rose.
He—Devin—someone who used to walk under smoggy skies, who used to dream of breaking free from gravity, from everything—was going to fly.
And that made the childlike wonder on his face real.
Because no matter how many truths he'd come to learn… who wouldn't wish for powers like that?
In this moment, sitting beside his brother, staring into the eyes of the most dangerous man on Earth…
Marcus Grayson smiled.