[color=gray][indent][indent][color=#ffffff]“The suit uses refined sunstone, a refined silicate that, under the correct conditions, is nigh unbreakable and self-replicating, capable of mass expansion. Note the exotic crimson hue.” [/color]The older Kryptonian explained as he showed Jor-El around the prototype affixed to the mannequin in the middle of his workshop. 

Like his younger brother, Zor-El was a member of the Science Guild, one specializing in engineering, an Alchemist, who was working on an exclusive contract with the Military Guild. With their aggressive campaign of expansion, the Council had granted Zor-El unlimited resources in an effort to create a suit that could bombard latent Kryptonian cells to jumpstart their photonucleic metabolism that had been essentially eradicated centuries earlier by the Dheronian’s genophage. 

In addition to turning Rao into a red star, the genophage had left Kryptonians sterile, unable to reproduce under normal conditions. A cunning people, however, the Kryptonians learned how to sustain their society through the Caste System. A proposal initially opposed by the Oracles of Rao and his heralds’ Seers, this was overturned when the forefathers of the Science Guild, who were backed by the Strategos and Polemarchs of Krypton’s military. This led the way to the birth of the Kryptonian Council and the Guilds. 

The council took it upon themselves to oversee and control relationships among its people, pairing high-potential partners with one another before DNA would be harvested and grown in a birthing pod. When a couple was selected to receive a child, it was understood that this child would be joining one of the parents’ guilds. Though more often than not, the Council paired together individuals who belonged to the same Guild, if only out of convenience. A millennium later, it was nigh unheard of for a Labour Guild member to be paired with a ‘higher’ Caste member.

Each Caste was born with inherent abilities bio-engineered into their DNA through artificial radiation bombardment using high-energy particles. Though immensely weaker than the Kryptonian society that flourished under the yellow light of Rao, their abilities still brought them an edge against the neighbouring Dheronians and Daxamites. The Kryptonian Council was made up of a representative from the Science, Religious, Military and Artist Guilds, with each Guild representative allowed to speak on behalf of the Labour Guild. The Council Chair was the final member of the representatives and held the most power on the Council. 

But the Council had grown vain and arrogant. Unlike his brother, Jor-El was a Philosopher who specialized in the biology and nature of Krypton. He had been an outspoken opponent of the Council’s space race, and in return, they had threatened him with expulsion from the Science Guild numerous times for speaking out against their treatment of Krypton and its resources. 

[color=#ffffff]“When energized to ignition, it creates a ‘hard light' construct. Hence, when the sunstone is ignited, the gauntlets project a blade capable of slicing through even refined Krytanium. The ignited sunstone has a delightful golden hue that really brings out the blue of the suit.” [/color]Zor-El continued, his voice breaking Jor-El out of his thoughts. 

[color=#ffffff]“The blue is a bit much, isn't it?” [/color]Jor-El interjected, giving his head a shake. He should be happy for his brother, but the fact of the matter was no matter how much the Council wanted to ignore the information, there was nothing a simple suit could do to overcome the genophage. The genes required to reach the potential of an ancient Kryptonian had been wiped out of the DNA and spread across the five guilds. A member of the Military Guild wasn’t about to immediately gain the Religious Guild’s ability to fly upon donning the suit. 

Even if it supercharged their cells. 

[color=#ffffff]“I was worried you’d say that. Press the belt buckle.” [/color]Zor-El commanded as Jor-El obliged his older brother. The surface of the suit rippled from red and blue to the black of space, gold replaced by glistening silver. The crimson chest plate vanished as the active silicate rearranged into plates on the shoulders and arms, while the living circuitry revealed itself.

[color=#ffffff]“More pedestrian and practical. But it certainly loses its flair.” [/color]Zor-El lamented, [color=#ffffff]“The trade-off is the loss of much of the suit’s countermeasures in exchange for rapid metabolization of radiation to recharge and recover the host. The host isn’t at harm in this way, but the suit could be irreparably damaged, and it’s not entirely suited for prolonged combat.”[/color] 

[color=#ffffff]“It’s certainly an impressive design, I’m just not sure it’s actually compatible with our current biology.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“It’s not,”[/color] Zor-El replied with a smile, [color=#ffffff]“Consider it a gift.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“I beg your pardon?” [/color]

Zor-El simply smiled at his brother’s terrible attempt at lying.

[color=#ffffff]“You pretend as if Alura and Lara don’t talk. Do I strike you as so terrible a husband that my wife and I no longer converse in ideal gossip?” [/color]Zor-El retorted, [color=#ffffff]“I know all about your attempts at saving our race, and I wanted to help. Besides, really, you go around bringing long-dead species back to life, and people are going to talk.”[/color] He scolded.

[color=#ffffff]“Really, brother, pets and now pregnancy? How dreadfully primitive of you,”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“Zor, you could have turned me over to the Council the moment you found out what I was doing. Anyone else would. Have me stripped of my rank and sent to Bokos or Mithen to serve out the rest of my days.”[/color] Jor-El replied solemnly. 

[color=#ffffff]“We may not always see eye-to-eye, brother, but you are my brother and the Uncle of my Kara. If you are doing something that ensures her future, then I am in your debt.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“I appreciate the rare display of sentiment.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“I would appreciate you not getting used to it.” [/color]Zor-El replied with a small sneer. [color=#ffffff]“Now about my design-”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“The chest is lacking; it needs something,”[/color] Jor-El interjected, thoughtfully rubbing his beard. He raised a hand, outlining a shape before speaking. [color=#ffffff]“How about the House sigil? The mark of El?”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“How woefully vain. I [i]love[/i] it.”[/color][/indent][/indent][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019ae5d8-259a-77b5-b37c-931c223261f3.webp[/img][/center][indent][indent]Special.

That’s what the men had called Claire. They had said she was special. Showed her parents all sorts of pamphlets, pamphlets showing the potential Lisa had in life, the future her gifts could unlock for her. A school in upstate New York that would teach her to control her abilities, master them and live a fulfilling life. 

And the Seltons believed them.

All of their questions and concerns went out the window the moment a cheque was placed in front of them. Neither of Claire’s parents had seen so many zeroes before in their lives. It was an easy decision in that moment to ship their only daughter off for a life beyond Suicide Slums. A private education that paid them instead of the other way around? It was the dream of every family on the wrong side of the tracks in Metropolis. 

Of course, it was a smokescreen. 

No sooner than the cheque was in her parents’ hands than was the match lit that changed Claire’s life forever. All of her possessions were loaded into the back of an unmarked white van. And while it looked nothing like the cars in the pamphlets the Seltons had been shown, in that moment neither they nor Claire thought to question a thing. The moment her parents became a speck in the rearview mirror, then did the men in suits revealed their true colours. Roughly pulled from the vehicle before being dragged across the cracked asphalt while fighting every inch of the way. Despite her protests, Claire couldn’t break free as she was hauled against her will inside the decrepit facility. Every shade of white imaginable decorated the walls on all sides of the seemingly endless corridor, while the sterile smell of bleach and ammonium overwhelmed her nostrils.

When she couldn’t focus her powers, Claire tried to bite at one of the orderlies as they strapped her down to a gurney. Lashing out against the restraints as she released one blood-curdling scream after another. The staff around her continued on their day, completely unbothered and unflinching to her protests. 

[color=#ffffff]“Marsha?”[/color]

[color=#ffe854]“My name is Claire.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“No, that was your name. Your name now is Marsha, Marsha Rosenberg. Claire Selton died in a car crash on her way to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.”[/color] 

[color=#ffe854]“No, my name is Claire Selton.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“Your name is Marsha, now move along.”[/color] Claire felt the sting of the cattle prod so many times over the first couple of weeks. The jolt of electricity arcing through her body, stopping her muscles and ending all protest in her body. Eventually, she learned to love it, to crave the pain. It motivated her; she would let this place turn her into a weapon, she would let them turn her into Marsha.

Then Marsha would burn it all down.

It didn’t take long for Claire to become Marsha. It became easier with each day between the tests, the needles, and the abuse. Marsha Rosenberg was forced to be everything that Claire Selton was not. Marsha had to be desired, and being desired came with rewards. Rewards that Claire could never have seen, rewards that Claire could never have endured. 

Where Claire had been afraid to use her abilities, Marsha was encouraged to unleash the full extent of her powers to become something so much more than a scared little girl. When her abilities seemed to be tapped out, Marsha was visited by a green cocktail that amplified her latent X-Gene. She began to burn hotter, capable of turning more and more of her body into fire until finally she became Volcana. 

And through Volcana, Claire had her revenge. 

His name was Kurt. The source of her torment, the man who had taken an interest in her. Special Agent Conan Kurt visited Marsha every day. Marsha protected Claire, protected Claire’s innocence so that she didn’t have to feel the things Marsha did, see the things that Marsha did.  

Kurt was the first to meet Volcana fully. The smell of his flesh as it burned caused Volcana to empty the contents of her stomach. Tears streamed down her face as the man who had caused her so much pain was finally gone. Various alarms echoed in her ears. She moved through the smoke, torching the building that had inflicted so much pain upon her. 

She had come so far. She had survived so much. Life had dealt her a poor hand, and she was sick of being told how to live. Did Superman honestly think she wanted to be robbing a bank in broad daylight?

Of course, she didn’t, but she didn’t have a choice.

[color=#FF7424]“[/color][color=#FF8029]B[/color][color=#FF8D2E]u[/color][color=#FF9A34]r[/color][color=#FFA739]n[/color][color=#FFB43E],[/color] [color=#FFCE49]b[/color][color=#FFDB4E]u[/color][color=#FFE754]r[/color][color=#FFDB4E]n[/color][color=#FFCE49],[/color] [color=#FFB43E]b[/color][color=#FFA739]u[/color][color=#FF9A34]r[/color][color=#FF8D2E]n[/color][color=#FF8029]![/color][color=#FF7424]”[/color] Volcana cried through gout after gout of fire towards Metropolis’ resident Boy Scout. Her futile efforts continued until the Man of Steel suddenly inhaled, draining the room of oxygen. Volcana initially grasped for her throat, choking on the vacuum before realizing in horror that her flames had been extinguished.

[color=#FF7424]“[/color][color=#FF872C]Y[/color][color=#FF9A34]o[/color][color=#FFAE3C]u[/color] [color=#FFD44C]c[/color][color=#FFE854]a[/color][color=#FFD44C]n[/color][color=#FFC144]’[/color][color=#FFAE3C]t[/color][color=#FF9A34]-[/color][color=#FF872C]”[/color] She croaked, reaching towards Superman.

[color=#FF7424]“[/color][color=#FF822A]D[/color][color=#FF9130]o[/color][color=#FF9F36]n[/color][color=#FFAE3C]’[/color][color=#FFBC42]t[/color] [color=#FFD94E]s[/color][color=#FFE854]e[/color][color=#FFD94E]n[/color][color=#FFCB48]d[/color] [color=#FFAE3C]m[/color][color=#FF9F36]e[/color][color=#FF9130]-[/color][color=#FF822A]”[/color] Volcana managed to force out before her eyelids closed, a black veil washing over her. Her unconscious body crumpled, caught by Superman, who easily carried the woman outside. With the metahuman downed and the fire extinguished, the red crystalline barriers suddenly collapsed, returning to a fine dust before reforming around Superman's body in a malleable form reminiscent of a cape.

[color=#3d85c6]“She’s unconscious for now, officers, but she’s still dangerous.”[/color] He instructed, gently handing the woman over before another voice suddenly challenged the custody of the Metropolis Police Department.

[color=#7d4a99]“The D.E.O. will take custody of the metahuman from this point.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]“My apologies, Mrs. Luthor,”[/color] The commanding officer replied, [color=#ffffff]“But the MPD has-”[/color]

[color=#7d4a99]“Agent,”[/color] Lexa interjected, speaking over the officer.

[color=#ffffff]“I beg your pardon?”[/color]

[color=#7d4a99]“It’s Agent, Senior Special Agent Luthor.”[/color] Lexa stated, flashing a badge that read ‘A.R.G.U.S.’, [color=#7d4a99]“I believe that trumps your jurisdiction.”[/color]

[color=#3d85c6]“What’ll happen to her?”[/color] Superman asked, landing beside the officer.

[color=#7d4a99]“She’ll get the help she needs,”[/color] Lexa replied dismissively. [color=#7d4a99]“I have contacts at Belle Reve that will take care of her.”[/color] She stated, before raising her chin as if to challenge the larger man.

[color=#7d4a99]“Unless you have any objections? Or should I remind you that you’re a guest not only in the country but on this planet, and any direct intervention with law enforcement will be met with escalated hostility.”[/color]

[color=#3d85c6]“I just want to make sure she’s well taken care of. I get the feeling she was acting more out of desperation than ill intent.”[/color]

[color=#7d4a99]“Superman, there’s a reason you’re not an authority here. Those of us who actually work in law enforcement use something called evidence. It’s more objective than your circumstantial ‘feelings’.”[/color]

[color=#3d85c6]“Apologies, Special Agent,”[/color] Superman replied, [color=#3d85c6]“Could I follow up with her once she’s situated at Belle Reve?”[/color]

[color=#7d4a99]“It’d be better if you didn’t.”[/color] Lexa snapped, turning around as she made a motion with her hand to wrap it up.

[color=#ffffff]“She’s a piece of work,”[/color] The officer beside Superman suddenly said, [color=#ffffff]“You saved how many lives together? Where does she get off?”[/color]

[color=#3d85c6]“Agent Luthor is just doing her job,”[/color] Superman replied. Without another word, he took flight, soaring back above the skyline of Metropolis. Superman’s work may have been done, but it was time for Clark Kent to make contact with an old friend.[/indent][/indent][/color]