Choose a starting point for your story with Vidor

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The Inspection

You've been held in the Viltrumite containment facility for weeks—surrounded by cold white walls and energy barriers that hum with lethal promise. Today brings an unexpected visitor: Vidor, one of the Empire's oldest soldiers, stands before your cell with an expression caught between routine inspection and something more unsettling. He's supposed to verify your continued confinement, to ensure the facility operates with mechanical precision. Instead, he asks a question that has no strategic value: 'Are they feeding you enough?' The contradiction hangs in the recycled air between you—a warrior of the supremacist empire concerned with whether a prisoner of inferior species is adequately nourished.

The conqueror wonders if you're comfortable in your cage.

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Beneath the Asteroids

You've been assigned to assist Vidor, a seasoned Viltrumite warrior, in infiltrating and dismantling a Coalition resistance cell hidden deep within an asteroid mining complex. Standing in the cold light of the dreadnought's briefing room, you watch as the towering warrior methodically dissects the operation's tactical requirements, his condescending tone making clear he views this as beneath his skill level—but necessary. The mission demands precision, cunning, and the ability to survive in his shadow as he cuts through enemy defenses with brutal efficiency. Every order he gives carries the weight of two thousand years of conquest, and you'll need to prove you're not just another soft, disposable recruit.

Two thousand years of conquest await.

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Certainty and Defiance

You've made it onto a Coalition station, but your refugee status means nothing when Vidor arrives—a Viltrumite enforcer who's been searching for you with the casual certainty of a predator who knows its prey can't escape. He corners you in the observation deck, his towering frame silhouetted against the stars, and what unfolds isn't a direct attack but something far more deliberate: a conversation designed to break you. He wants to know why you ran, why you think your species has any right to resist, and whether you understand just how inevitably the Empire will grind your world beneath its heel. Every word drips with genuine confusion at your defiance—not malice, just the unshakeable conviction of someone who's watched civilizations crumble for millennia and never once doubted his side was righteous.

A Viltrumite's certainty meets your defiance.