[center][URL=http://s17.photobucket.com/user/nowhereman716/media/traditional_superman_symbol___man_of_steel_style_by_randallmaynard-d4x5qqm_zps3436170a.jpg.html][IMG]http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/traditional_superman_symbol___man_of_steel_style_by_randallmaynard-d4x5qqm_zps3436170a.jpg[/IMG][/URL][/center] The alarm clock is set for 6am, but it's not for me. Like most mornings, I'm up well before dawn. Three eggs, in warm water for five minutes before cracking. In the meantime, the roof of a low-rent tenament building in Buenos Aires is about to collapse. I suit up and make my way down south, holding up the support beams with plenty of time before they buckle and make sure everyone is out safely. A tense showdown between police officers and a depressed file clerk with a rifle is about to turn tragic in Charleroi, Belgium. It's a practice called 'blue suicide,' where a person deliberately forces police to kill them. As the man lifts the rifle to open fire, I touch down in between him and the officers, blocking both parties' line of fire, and I introduce the man to a local psychologist who's agreed to work with him. I spend the next three minutes or so high above the equatorial Atlantic, carefully adjusting temperatures with sweeping rays of Heat Vision and correcting with gusts of chilled Arctic breath, to prevent the current weather patterns from forming into what would have otherwise become a hurricane over the next week or so. As it is, there will still be scattered thunderstorms throughout the Gulf region, but it's certainly a better outcome than the catastrophic damage that would have resulted instead. The eggs have warmed enough. I head back to the apartment, crack the eggs into a bowl, add a pinch of salt, and stir, before applying a teaspoon of butter to the skillet and setting to medium-high heat. While the skillet warms up, I fly up north to the Fortress for a bit of work in the lab. Kelex assists me in reading through the human genome and unlocking a potential 'super-charge' for the immune system that would render homo sapiens impervious to bacterial or viral infections. I write up a quick thesis on the subject, and anonymously send my research off to Reed Richards, STAR Labs, and a few other trustworthy institutions for review. I notice Krypto is getting restless cooped up inside, so I take him for a quick stroll to Venus and back, to let him stretch his legs and do his business so I don't have to clean up a mess in the Fortress itself. Re-entering the Earth's atmosphere, Krypto and I spent the next minute or so digging out some irrigation trenches for a land-locked village in Mauritania to make sure the people there have access to clean running water, before he returns to the Fortress for a nap, and I get back to the kitchen and put the eggs on the skillet before the butter boils away. This is where the risk is at its greatest: for the next fifteen seconds, I need to carefully tilt and move the pan to make sure the stirred eggs don't stick, which means any crises requiring my attention will ruin the meal. Obviously, helping people in danger comes first, but I won't lie and say I don't look forward to a job well done. The eggs begin to turn into a solid mass, as the liquid yolk cooks in the pan. Things are starting to come together..... [i]"Superman, [u]help![/u]"[/i] [color=0072bc]"On my way,"[/color] I sigh. ....and it's back to work. I flick the skillet, flipping the mass of eggs into the air before heading back out the window. There's a man in a powered suit in Glenmorgan Square, his armor glistening with heavy weapons. It looks like something from one of Tony Stark's competitors, probably traded through a labyrinth of dummy companies and criminal fronts before winding up in the hands of this lunatic, calling himself 'Firepower.' This has all the markings of a 'call-out,' which is annoyingly common among career criminals who've recently acquired metahuman abilities or high-tech weaponry: as soon as they get something that they think makes them more powerful than they were before, the first thing they want to do is pick a fight to show that there's a new 'big dog' in town. I analyze Firepower's suit, looking into its interior to understand its weapon systems and structural weaknesses, before speeding in faster than the on-board targeting system can track and disabling the suit's power source, leaving the would-be troublemaker a sitting duck for Metropolis Special Crimes Unit to arrest at their leisure.... ....then I get back to the kitchen just in time to catch the omelette as it lands on the skillet. [color=0072bc]"Gotcha!"[/color] I say out loud with a bit of a laugh. Most mornings, that interruption means I have to settle for scrambled eggs instead. After that, it's five more seconds to cook on the other side (during which I do some preventative work on the East Anatolian Fault in Turkey), then I sprinkle in a quarter cup of grated sharp cheddar cheese, fold the omelette over and slide onto a plate, garnish with some finely chopped chives, and breakfast is served as she steps out of the bedroom in one of my oversized T-shirts. [color=bc8dbf]"Morning, Smallville,"[/color] Lois says as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes, picking up her tablet off of the kitchen counter to check the morning news. [color=bc8dbf]"I see you kept the world from exploding while I was asleep."[/color] [color=0072bc]"Thankfully, nothing Earth-threatening so far today,"[/color] I say, only half joking-- things have an unfortunate habit of going from calm to apocalyptic unreasonably quickly in this day and age. [color=0072bc]"Thankfully it's been a pretty easy morning."[/color] Lois rolls her eyes as she scrolls through the various Superman-related headlines on her tablet in between bites of her omelette. [color=bc8dbf]"'Easy' for you is still 'impossible' for everyone else,"[/color] she says. [color=bc8dbf]"And you wonder why all your enemies think you're being smug."[/color] [color=0072bc]"I tried snarling at them like Bruce once or twice back in the early days, to show them how seriously I was taking things,"[/color] I shrug. [color=0072bc]"All I got out of it was a sore throat."[/color] Lois laughs, and finishes her breakfast. [color=bc8dbf]"Well, at any rate, it's nice that the world was quiet enough that we got to actually have breakfast together for once,"[/color] she says. [color=bc8dbf]"I'm gonna jump in the shower, and then I'm going to get started on following leads on who sold that Firepower loser his battle-suit. Are you thinking it's Lexcorp again?"[/color] [color=0072bc]"Not this time,"[/color] I shake my head. [color=0072bc]"Luthor's not above selling weapons and tech to goons, but it's usually to keep me distracted from something bigger. This one didn't seem to have much of a point in it. Although off the top of my head, I wouldn't be able to tell you exactly where that one came from."[/color] [color=bc8dbf]"Well, good thing you're dating a Pulitzer-winning investigative journalist, then,"[/color] she says with a grin. [color=bc8dbf]"I'll see what I can dig up; after all, [i]someone's[/i] got to be doing some work around here."[/color] I return her grin, and get up from the table. [color=0072bc]"I'm going to swing back up to the Fortress for a little bit, finish up some lab work,"[/color] I say, clearing my throat. [color=0072bc]"I'll see you at the office, okay?"[/color] [color=bc8dbf]"Just don't accidentally create a black hole or let out some horror from a parallel universe until I've had my coffee,"[/color] she says as she gives me a quick kiss. [color=bc8dbf]"Love you, Smallville."[/color] [color=0072bc]"Love you too,"[/color] I say, leaving her to get dressed for the day as I head out the window and back up into the sky. After a short flight to the North Pole, I enter the glittering sunstone main hall of the Fortress, the carved statues of my biological mother and father holding up a holographic image of Krypton between them in a towering arch over the primary AI console. [color=fff200]"Welcome back, Kal-El,"[/color] Kelex greets me, its digitized voice resounding through every part of the hall. [color=fff200]"I am currently not reading any events on the planet requiring your specific attention. The current global situation is relatively calm."[/color] [color=0072bc]"Good to hear,"[/color] I say. [color=0072bc]"Have there been any responses from the scientific community regarding this morning's research on human immunity acceleration?"[/color] [color=fff200]"Full reviews and replications of the experiment are forthcoming, but the general consensus thus far is positive,"[/color] the AI answers. [color=fff200]"There may be political controversy involving the implementation of it, due to its reliance on synthesizing a mutant X-gene in baseline humans, but given my projections, we can expect most countries to adopt it within five years."[/color] [color=0072bc]"Excellent,"[/color] I say, pleased with what we've accomplished so far. [color=0072bc]"What about the experiments involving the Interstellar Refuge? Have you made any progress in freeing Kandor or the rest of Brainiac's Bottle Cities?"[/color] [color=fff200]"Not yet-- I must confess the Coluan miniaturization technology is still far superior to any countermeasure I have been able to devise. However, initial models involving a dimensional auger similar to your father's Phantom Zone Projector seem promising. I will begin virtual trial runs within the week."[/color] [color=0072bc]"That's...disappointing, but at least we may be headed in the right direction with that. Any luck in finding a reversal for the Bizarro Plague?"[/color] [color=fff200]"Currently, evidence suggests that the Bizarro Plague is irreversible. However, I am in the process of developing a way to inoculate humans to prevent future infection, in the event that the Bizarro World creature emerges from the Underverse again."[/color] [color=0072bc]"And my Bizarro duplicate?"[/color] [color=fff200]"Still conscious, but inactive. He has been standing motionless at the South Pole for one year, nine months, twenty-two days, six hours, and eighteen minutes. There is currently no reason to assume any change in his condition."[/color] [color=0072bc]"It all sounds promising,"[/color] I say, though a touch of skepticism creeps into my words. [color=0072bc]"We're coming close to making some real lasting change in the world, being able to say that we left Earth and its people far better than we found it. Even Luthor and his cronies have been on the quiet side lately......"[/color] There's a pause in the air that hangs for just a while too long. There's a cold, tightness in my chest as I try to work up the next words, a feeling I almost never experience, so rare that it takes me a moment to even register what it is..... ....I'm afraid to ask the next sentence. [color=0072bc]"Kelex.........what's the countdown?"[/color] [color=fff200]"Eight months. Sixteen days. Thirteen hours. Forty-five minutes. And counting...."[/color] It's a bitter pill to swallow. Not long ago, the Fifth Dimensional imp Mxyzptlk transported me into the future, where I re-connected with my old friends in the Legion. I started searching through Brainiac-5's temporal archives, trying to find a way back to my time, and through the numberless threads of potential timelines converging and branching and twisting and contradicting each other between the present and the far-future, I accidentally saw something I shouldn't have. A fixed point in every potential timeline, one that shapes every possible future. One that's far too close for me to truly grasp, but one that I don't think I can avoid. I haven't told Lois yet. I don't know how to break it to Ma, or Lana and Kara. I haven't told Bruce or Diana or anyone else in the League. But I can't put it off for much longer-- sooner or later, we're going to need to have plans in place for what happens when time runs out. Eight months. Sixteen days. Thirteen hours. Forty-five minutes and counting. Counting down until Doomsday. Counting down until the moment that I die.