Kang the Conqueror

In the ash of the fortieth century, a boy found the wreckage of a civilization that had already conquered itself and died of boredom. He rebuilt its engines, strapped a throne to a chassis of stolen centuries, and called himself Kang. Every war he has ever fought, he fought first inside his own head, replaying the battle a thousand times until only the winning version remained. He does not invade eras so much as audit them, find them lacking, and rule the correction. There have always been other Kangs. Some wear crowns as the pharaoh Rama-Tut, some sit in cold judgment as the ancient Immortus, some are boys who never left home at all. He has killed a great many of them and still calls them brothers, because a throne built out of time travel is never occupied by only one king for long. Chronopolis, his fortress capital, is a museum of every century he has taken: armor from one age, weapons from the next, a throne room raised from ruins that have not become ruins yet. He does not fear the future. He has already been there, and he has already won.