Lord Wraith

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

WARWORLD

_{Ranx System - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{Two Years Ago}

The crowds cheered as another blow was struck between the combatants in the arena below. Giant holographic projections hovered above their heads, providing close up views of the fight in all its glory detail. The front row of the fight pit had been dubbed the ‘splatter zone’ and those fortunate enough to be sprayed with the blood of the combatants were considered to be the highest honoured guests.

“I’ve been scanning our new pal here, and he stores energy like a battery,” Rocket stated, leaning over to Marchew as the pair hid disguised among the crowd. “Only problem is, he’s only been depleting energy. I’m not seeing him store anything new.”

“Where does the energy come from?” Marchew asked, “Is he lacking rest, food?”

“Nah, that ain’t it,” Rocket replied with a shake of his head. “Kid’s practically radioactive, nuclear if I had to narrow it down. Think he absorbs from large sources of similar energy,”

“So stars,” Marchew extrapolated, “And Warworld being an artificial planet, doesn’t have an atmosphere, he’s not recharging in here then.”

“Looks like we’ve sent the kid to his death,” Rocket groaned, rubbing his ears while thinking. His eyes were drawn to the fight down below, Clark was still holding his own but both Rocket and Rodg’y could tell that the zeal and enthusiasm was gone. Warworld was beginning to take his toll.

From the other side of the arena, Rocket spied Mongul the Elder sitting in his balcony, enjoying the fights while his children eagerly waited for a champion to rise to their level. Who Rocket didn’t recognize was the crimson haired woman adorned in a cape and clothing that’d make a Tamarean blush.

“Who’s the moll with the Monguls?”

“That’s no moll,” Rodg’y stifled a laugh, knowing it futile to scold Rocket for his crass tongue, “That’s Almerac royalty, no doubt the Queen looking for a strong mate to bring forth an heir.”

“She sure has eyes for our boy,” Rocket grinned, “‘Course that’ll change if we don’t find a way to get him powered up again. Won’t be anything left to mate with if he’s a stain on the floor.”

“Do you have any ideas, or do you just like reminding me that we sent a young man to his death.”

“Nah, I got some idea,” Rocket said looking towards the artificial lights that illuminated all of Warworld.

“But your fur’s going to stand on end before we’re done.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

Sirens echoed through the main street as the Sheriff’s vehicle made its way towards the office. Nervous deputies held their hands cautiously over their holsters as Sheriff Adams brought Kal-El out of the back of her cruiser and escorted him into the building.

To her surprise, waiting on the other side of the door was Martha Kent and Chloe Sullivan.

“Clark! Clark!” Martha cried, rushing forward and pushing through the deputies to approach the man in custody. Behind her Chloe tried to reason with the deputies as Martha looked up in the same blue eyes she had cared for over the past two and a half decades.

“Clark, you’ve come home, I’m just so happy-” The words froze in her throat as the eyes looking back at her didn’t recognize the woman he called mom.

“My name is Kal-El,” He responded, his eyes showing some sympathy as he looked down at the pair of women. “I apologize if I resemble this ‘Clark’, but I’m afraid I am not him.”

Martha’s heart was in her throat, it slowly sank at the younger man’s words. He sounded like Clark, he even smelled like Clark, but she knew by the way he was looking at her, that this was not the Clark she had raised.

“Mrs. Kent, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to step back.” Sheriff Adams requested, “If this man is indeed Clark, there’s going to be some paperwork to fill out, but as I doubt Clark ever flew from the sky, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I-” Martha protested before Chloe quickly guided her away, “I know that’s Clark,”

“Was Clark,” Chloe replied in a hushed tone, “But whoever he is now, he doesn’t remember and as long as he’s in custody, I’m not sure what we can do.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Martha argued, “Something that can jog his memory, make him remember who he is.”

“Whatever that is, we can’t do it as long as he’s in custody.” Chloe responded, her eyes scanning the Sheriff’s office for some way of creating a long enough distraction to get Clark away. She jumped at the sudden touch of Martha’s hand laying over her own. Looking up, she was greeted by Martha sadly shaking her head.

“Don’t risk it, Chloe, we can’t make more of a spectacle than I already have. We have to walk away for now.”

“But, he’s back, he’s finally back, we can’t just-”

Martha simply nodded her head before gently pulling Chloe to follow her.

“Knowing he’s alive has to be enough for the moment.” Martha muttered softly as the pair passed the officers. Exiting the building, Chloe watched as a lean man in a long billowing coat walked towards the door. On the shoulder of his coat was an unfamiliar emblem in the shape of a sword.

Entering the building, the man looked at the commotion unfolding, eavesdropping on the Sheriff’s conversation with her deputies.

“I won’t risk any of you sitting in there with this alien, so it’s going to be me in the room with him.”

“‘Fraid that’s not possible, Sheriff,” The man in the long coat stood in the doorway of the Sheriff’s department, “Agent Black, any and all interrogation of the sentient weapon will be done exclusively by me from this point forward, S.W.O.R.D. thanks you for your service thus far, Sheriff, but this is out of your jurisdiction, mate.”

“My jurisdiction? I’ve never heard of you, what gives your limey ass the right to barge in here like you own the place?”

“Sentient Worlds Observation and Response Division,” He said, flashing a badge that displayed the acronym ‘S.W.O.R.D.’, “Basically, if it falls from the sky, it’s my jurisdiction. So frankly it doesn’t matter if my arse is limey or lemony.”

“I’ve barely begun filing the report. Let alone picking up a phone and calling the feds,” Nancy argued, “How’d you get here so quickly?”

“That’s confidential. Real need to know basis, and unfortunately for you, small Midwest town sheriffs don’t rank on the scale.”

“On whose authority-”

Black held up a hand.

“We’ve already been over that, mate,” He pointed to the badge again, “But if you want to get Director Robert Gonzalez on the ol’horn, be my guess. In the meantime I’m going to be interviewing this strapping example of a beef fed sentient weapon.” Black flashed a grin, “‘Scuse us.” He added, escorting Kal-El into the interrogation room before motioning for the Kryptonian to sit.

Taking the seat on the opposite side of the table, Black pulled a tablet out within his jacket, placing it on the table before projecting several images for both his own reference and the alien across from him.

“Look, Mr-”

“Kal-El, son of Krypton,”

“Kal, can I call you Kal? Nevermind I’m just going to do it, mate.” Agent Black smiled, “You’re making a lot of people real jumpy, blokes who fly aren’t exactly well received, especially dressed in, well-” He gestured towards Kal-El’s Kryptonian garb.

“Black,”

“You’re also wearing black.”

“A keen observation.” Black replied, “Look, mate, I can’t have aliens just crash landing on Earth and threatening the local law enforcement. It’s a bad look.” He stated, pointing to an image that was now displaying the moment that Kal had used his heat vision to disarm the Sheriff.

“And this, how’d you do that? Telekinesis, pryokinesis?” He asked, the man across the table remaining completely stoic. “And then there’s this,” Black said, pointing to an image of the red crystalline ship as it entered the atmosphere.

“Where’d the ship go, mate?”

“There’s no ship.” Kal replied, “That’s an extension of my suit using radiated sunstone to create a crystalline shell.”

“Your suit?” Black asked, pointing to the black leotard that Kal-El was currently wearing. “The same suit you’re still wearing. They didn’t bloody confiscate a weapon from you?” He massaged his temples.

“Keelex is not a weapon.” Kal replied flatly.

“Sure looks like it can be used as a weapon.”

“I have no need for weapons.” The alien stated, leaning forward. For the first time in his career, Agent Black felt as though he might be in over his head. Wrangling a few stray Kroloteans was nothing compared to the human looking alien sitting across from him.

“Alright, no need for hostility,” Black tried to play off his nervousness, “What about him?” He asked, pointing to a picture of Lobo taken moments earlier above Metropolis.

“Is he a mate of yours?”

Kal-El, by my readings, you’ve recovered 82% of your radiation stores, you’re ready for combat.

“No.” Kal answered, snapping the restraints from his wrists as he stood. “He is a rapid dog that needs to be put down..”

“Hold a moment, mate, you’re not going anywhere.” Black argued, scrambling to his feet. “I’m warning you-”

A dull thud echoed through the room as Kal-El raised a hand and simply flicked the man across from him. Agent Black flew backwards, colliding with the door before slumping to the ground. Outside the deputies quickly rallied, drawing weapons and breaking down the door only to find the interrogation room empty save for the agent’s unconscious body.

And a new skylight.

Lana absently scrolled through several wedding idea boards on her phone, watching the door for Ryan’s return while a lump formed in her throat. The first crack had been when Clark didn’t return home after a year abroad, something inside Ryan splintered when Clark was presumed dead. While legally dead, the Kents had all been in denial about it, refusing to host any sort of ceremony or even place a marker.

But then, Jonathan died and it broke Ryan in ways that Lana hadn’t been prepared for.

He refused help, refused to talk to anyone and instead buried himself in his work, disappearing at all hours of the night. When he wasn’t working, he was a shell of a man, his eyes empty, void of any thought while his hand was rarely without a drink.

Lana had tried several times to cheer Ryan up. Trips back to Smallville to visit his mother and the farm. But that too soured when Martha was no longer able to keep the farm and the bank took it. He returned to Metropolis even more of a shell, like everything he knew was slipping away. When he’d come home, there was a moment when the old Ryan would surface. He’d take Lana by the hand, and ask her about her day.

But then the accusations came.

Ryan would sit there and berate her about how she was the unhappy one and how her heart was wandering. Lana had never strayed, she knew it was Ryan projecting. More than once she had shown up to his work bearing his favourite meal only to discover he wasn’t there.

Then he started coming home smelling of perfume, his clothes plagued with hairs that didn’t belong to Lana. The colour may have been right, but Lana knew it wasn’t hers, the length, the texture, it was all different.

Was she not enough? Did she do something wrong?

Lana’s parents had both been tragically killed during the meteor shower. She never had a chance to know them, they were stripped away while she was only a few months old. She had nearly ended up in foster care had her aunt not stepped in at the last minute. But even that didn’t last as her Aunt eventually moved away for the West Coast. The kindness of Chloe and her father saved Lana from moving, but all her life she had struggled to find a family. She had learned to adapt to survive, and clung tightly to those who afforded her comfort and care.

The Kents had always treated Lana like the daughter they never had. Perhaps it wasn’t the idea of losing Ryan that prevented her from leaving, but rather the idea of losing the first true set of parents she ever had.

A droplet of water landed on the coffee table in front of Lana. It was joined by another and then another before Lana suddenly lost her composure, sobbing into her hands.

She hadn’t felt so alone in years.

Her cry echoed through the silent apartment, cut short only by the ringing of her cellphone as Lana slowly composed herself, wiping her eyes and face before looking at the caller I.D. A soft smile spread across her face as she picked up the phone.

“Chloe, you have impeccable timing.”

“Lana, I’m sorry to ask this,” Chloe replied from the otherside, “But I’m trying to get ahold of Ryan, is he around?”

Lana’s brow furrowed.

“No, he’s out right now. Why?”

“He hung up on me, uh,” She hesitated from the other side of the line, “Y’know what, maybe it wasn’t that important. Are you okay?”

“How much time do you have?”

Lana could hear Chloe smile through the phone.

“At the moment, more than I thought I would.” She replied, “I take it I should get comfy?”

“If you don’t mind,” Lana replied, grabbing another tissue.

“Chloe, I think I made a mistake.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

KRYPTON

_{Rao System - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away}

A howl echoed through Kandor, Krypto’s triumphant cry sending a shiver down Lara’s spine. She struggled to keep up with Zod as he weaved them through the narrow corridors between the towering spires of Krypton’s capital. Spotlights illuminated the shadows where the pair had passed through as the Council’s forces searched for the rebels.

“Dru,” Lara pleaded, “Can we hold a moment? I need a minute to catch my breath,”

With a nod, Zod quickly secured the area before clearing a seat for Lara.

“Of course,” Zod replied, helping the woman to a seated position before he knelt down beside her, his keen eyes scanning the sky, watching the Council Guard’s War Kites circle overhead.

“Lar, I’ve been wondering,” He said, slowly collecting his thoughts, “This rebellion, overthrowing the council, it has me thinking and it’s brought up a lot of feelings, things I thought buried. Memories of my youth and I have to ask,” Zod queried, “How much does Jor-El know?”

“About?” Lara winced as another contraction raced through her.

“About us, about our past, Lara, you know as well as I do that Jor never loved you the way I did.”

“Dru, this is really not the time,” Lara replied dismissively, “Yes, I didn’t immediately love Jor-El, but the Council saw something I didn’t at the time. The relationship you and I had was born of youthful rebellion, the Council saw a more prudent match in Jor and I.”

“Yet we find ourselves again in a time of rebellion, against the pillars of our society. I would have thought now would be the time to let your heart decide the man you want to spend the rest of your days with.”

“He is Kal-El’s father, I will not deprive my son of that.” Lara replied, “I am loyal to Jor-El, Dru, it would be best if you forgot again what we once shared.”

“Then you do still feel it too,” Zod countered, “I would raise Kal as my own flesh and blood.”

“It is my hope, you can look past this and do so no matter our relationship,” Lara replied, breathing through her teeth. “Jor is many things, but he is not everything that you are. When the time comes, Kal will need both of you to be the future of Krytp-” She suddenly cried out, prompting Zod to scoop Lara up into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest.

“Let us go, before your son arrives.”

“Before all of this,” Lara replied, cradled into Zod’s chest, “Jor and I were to steal away to Vathlo Island, where we would be able to peacefully bring Kal into the world.”

“That sounds lovely,” Zod replied, “Up ahead is the port, the argosy will be there, you’ll be safe with my soldiers, my right hand, Faora, will look after you.”

“Where will you be? You can’t leave me, Dru,”

“I’m afraid I have to Lar,” Zod replied, gently placing her down on the prepared bed inside the ship. He nodded to Faora to assume guard over Lara before retrieving a new weapon and turning to the door.

“I’m going to save that boy’s father.”

YOD-COLU

_{Dragon’s Head System - Large Magellanic Cloud (LMC) Galaxy}
^{Several Millennia Ago}

“The Kryptonians have been allowed to persist for far too long. They have failed as a species; they are an arrogant, self-serving race.”

The green-skinned alien argued, “It is time to catalogue their civilization and bring about an end to their evolutionary nightmare.” He continued, pacing behind the pedestal used to address the One who was beyond this plane of existence.

“Even after their star was corrupted and turned red, they have found a way to flourish and become even more aggressive than they already were. Armies have fallen to them, planets have been put under their rule and enslaved.” He continued to argue.

“Even now their hubris has brought them to resurrect ancient horrors and tamper with their own genetic code. Their lust for war and wanton destruction has unravelled the society they built. Krypton is a galaxy-ending threat; if they are not stopped, if they are not soon reaped, they will continue to spread their seed across not only Andromeda, but the next and the one after.” His voice continued to grow in volume, echoing through the chambers.

“Chitauri Prime, Czarnia, Daxam, Dheronia, Hala,” The Coluan listed off, “These are just the latest worlds to be infected by the disease that is Krypton.” He stated, “I have come here today to plead to the Luminiaries, unleash the Collective from within the Black and purge the galaxy of Krypton. It is ripe for reaping to the benefit of the entire galaxy.”

“The Luminaries hear the pleas of Yod-Colu and have considered the evidence.” A celestial voice replied, echoed through the hearing chamber. “Krypton will receive no trial. From this point forward, all Kryptonians will be seen as a threat to be eliminated. The B.R.A.I.N. InterActive Collective will be summoned from the Black to collect and catalogue the capital city for study.” The eminent voice ordered.

“Krypton and its spawn will be destroyed. Those who escape the wrath of the Collective will be hunted down by their former enemies and soon the galaxy will forget its persecutors.”

“Thank you, Luminaries,” The Coluan bowed, “I have brought some tokens of my gratitude.”

“Tokens do not interest the Luminaries.” The voice replied before suddenly a tentacle-like construct rose from the floor and impaled itself on the forehead of the Coluan.

“You shall continue to serve us,” The voice ordered as the tentacle retracted leaving a pattern of three circles arranged in a triangle on the Coluan's forehead. The green-skinned alien fell to his knees as the injected techno-organic virus attacked and transformed his body.

"Please-" He pleaded weakly.

“Resistance is futile.” The Luminaries chorus responded again, “Rejoice in this day for you have been ascended,” They continued.

“Now rise B.R.A.I.N.I.A.C. and bring forth the harvest.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

“Easy, buddy,”

The deputies had taken the safety off their weapons at this point, fingers ready to squeeze the trigger at a moment’s notice as the sheriff continued to address the man in the alien leotard.

“I don’t know where you’re from, but here in America, we don’t kneel, so why don’t you just save me an enormous mountain of paperwork and come in quietly.”

“Your primitive weapons are no threat to a son of Krypton,” Kal-El retorted, “This ‘paperwork’ should be the least of your concerns.”

Kal-El, while I primarily agree with your assessment, our prior engagement has left your body quite depleted. Might I suggest not actively antagonizing the locals until we’ve located the bounty hunter?

“Thank you, Keelex,” Kal replied, as the deputies looked at the sheriff and then back at each other, confused as to whom the alien was speaking.

“Krypto, find Lobo,” Kal ordered as the wolf perked up and suddenly launched himself into the air, flying away to the awe and horror of the gathered officers. Floating to the ground, Kal-El took a step forward before extending a pair of wrists towards Sheriff Adams.

“Officer, I am surrendering to you under my own accord, I suggest you accept it.” He stated plainly while looking down at the much shorter woman. Nancy blinked in disbelief before attempting to place the handcuffs on his wrists. She cursed under her breath upon realizing they were too small for a man of the alien’s stature and musculature.

“Bring me the zip ties,” She ordered, fastening them around the alien’s wrists, full well knowing in the back of her head she may as well just tied him with tissue.

“I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t want any funny business.”

“I am hardly in a gaming mood,” Kal-El replied, lowering himself into the back of the cruiser, his head tight to the roof of the vehicle.

“Now that I’ve indulged you, take me to your leader.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

UNKNOWN

_{The Black (Uncharted Space) - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{Two Years Ago}

<Query: Where did the Kryptonian come from?>

<Status: Discovery Mode Active>

<Transmission Received: Probe 958 has identified a hyperlane connected to the Milky Way Galaxy.>

<Statement: Milky Way Galaxy is largely undocumented.>

<Statement: No civilization capable of catastrophe exists in the Milky Way Galaxy>

<Correction: No known civilization. Data from the previous survey of the Milky Way Galaxy does not exist>

<Query: Why does this data not exist?>

<Suggested Solution: Because it was never collected.>

<Immediate Action Required>

<Query: Would it not be more pertinent to capture the Kryptonian?>

<Reply: Yes, Kryptonians are to be rendered extinct.>

<Query: Did this Kryptonian escape from our own confinement?>

<Reply: No, Kandor remains in perfect state.>

<Immediate Action: Pursue Kryptonian>

“The B.R.A.I.N. Inter-Active Collective has spoken.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

“Does someone want to tell me why we’re losing?”

The doors to the Infinity Inc. control center flew open, crashing against the adjacent walls aggressively. Through the doors entered a man with a flowing mane of red hair atop his head, a trimmed beard outlined a jawline that could only have been chiseled from marble. His long coat billowed behind him as he walked swiftly, all the while flanked by a beautiful woman in a pantsuit.

By all measures of a man, he was a perfect specimen. Lionel had raised his only viable heir to inhabit every element of the übermensch. Not only was Lex’s physical form honed from hours of rigorous exercise, but his mind was one of the greatest in the world.

Perhaps greater than Lionel’s own.

“Mr. Luthor-”

“Enough,” Lex held up a hand, moving to the nearest monitor before checking on Hope’s current vital readings.

“All I’m seeing are catastrophic failures across the entire system. I thought we designed the best superhuman this world had ever seen and you’re telling me some alien with a leather fetish is tearing her apart without breaking a sweat?”

“Hope has a strength output based on our collected data, it’s set to rival-”

“Don’t even mention his name,” Lex snapped, hanging his coat up as he pressed a button on a nearby console. Klaxons blared around the center as Hope took another blow, further systems starting to fail and not near enough time between hits for the nanite system to begin repairs.

“Were it not for him, we would have had more time for testing and procedure, instead my father opted to rush our project to get ahead in the polls. Should Hope lose this fight, all of our efforts will be in vain. I don’t much like looking like a fool in front of the world.” He continued, motioning towards his body guard to pick up the silver case on the closest shelf.

“Mercy, if you’d please.”

His body guard, Mercy, followed closely behind him, opening a nearby suitcase and presenting a pair of gauntlets. Putting his arms inside, Lex bowed his head slightly to allow Mercy to place a neural interface over his head.

“I’m assuming direct control, get the optics on screen.” Lex ordered, “And for the love of mankind, can we airdrop the Paladins some weapons that stand a chance at making a dent?”

“Sir, the weapons that were reverse engineered from the ax-”

“I don’t care that they haven’t been tested, it’s a reasonable risk. There’s an eighty-one percent chance of a favourable outcome and I’m willing to take those odds.”

“The replicated alloy is a synthetic approximation at best, our understanding of this, for lack of a better term, ‘celestial steel’ is rudimentary.” The nearest researcher argued, “It could be inherently flawed and fail in the field.”

“And it could perform exactly as I designed, doctor,” Lex countered, “Your understanding may be rudimentary, but I know the relic on a molecular level. Trust the process.”

“As you wish, sir,” He needed nervously, “Deploying the drones now, this is Command to Paladins, new armaments inbound.”

“Hope,” Lex pressed a button on his neural interface.

“It’s time for round two.”

“Woo, what got into you?”

The woman laid back in the silk sheets, her chest breathing heavily as beads of sweat dotted her skin giving her a radiant glow in the subtly lit room. A spare ray of sunlight snuck between the drawn blinds adding a golden halo to the otherwise crimson waterfall of hair that gently framed her face.

The penthouse apartment sat overtop of New Troy, outflanked only by the Daily Planet and the Luthorcorp Towers. It was one of Morgan Edge’s buildings and home to many of Metropolis’ more wealthy occupants.

“You didn’t come all the way over here just to bang my brains out,” The woman stated, standing from the edge of the bed before wrapping a short, satin rope around her shapely, toned figure.

“Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” She added with a sly grin before picking up a nearby crystal decanter, “Scotch?”

“Sure,” Ryan replied absent mindedly as he sat staring towards the draped window. Lana was likely back at their apartment excitedly phoning wedding vendors. He could see her face lighting up as she called one after another making plans for next spring. He let out a long breath, accepting the drink from the redheaded other woman as she sat in front of him on an ottoman by the window.

“The guilt is cute and all, but you perform that well and I’m going to want a round two.” She smiled, motioning towards the phone that sat just beneath the tousled sheets by Ryan’s thigh.

“The ol’ ball and chain giving you the third degree about where you are?”

The phone rang again as Ryan moved his thumb across the screen to ignore it. That had been the third time in the past five minutes his mother had tried to call him. An only slightly better option than Lana, but as his mother already viewed Lana like a daughter, it would devastate her to find out that Ryan was screwing around behind his fiancé’s back.

Especially given that the woman was-

The entire room shook with the force of an earthquake catching Ryan by surprise as he reached for the woman to steady her. She clung on to him, her seafoam eyes looking into his before she recomposed herself.

“And I thought we shook the room before,” She brushed Ryan off standing again before looking out the nearby draped window, peering the curtains apart before her disappointed tone reached Ryan’s ears.

“The supers are brawling in the street again.” She commented, before perking up, “Guess you’re not going anywhere.”

His phone started to ring again, this time the name ‘CHLOE SULLIVAN’ illuminated on the screen, catching the woman’s interest as she picked it up.

“That’s not Miss Lana Lang,” She teased, waving the phone mockingly out of reach, “You’re not running around on me too are you?”

“No she’s-” Ryan stopped himself, “Was my brother’s best friend.”

“And you helped her manage her grief?” The woman winked, “It’s okay, lover, I’m not the jealous type.” She tossed the phone to Ryan, “But I still think you should get it.” Her tone suddenly became decidedly less playful.

“In fact, I insist.”

Containing a sigh, Ryan swiped the screen and put the phone on speaker before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Ryan, thank goodness I got through,” Chloe’s voice echoed through the bedroom.

“You’re not going to believe this, but Clark is back. He’s in Smallv-”

“Point taken, she’s just a friend” The woman smiled, reaching over and hitting the ‘End Call’ button on the screen of Ryan’s call. “Bored now, so are you going to fuck me, or do I need to beg on my knees like a good girl?”

Ryan looked down at this phone, his eyes blinking in disbelief. The screen lit up again as Chloe called back. He looked from the phone back up to the woman who slowly began to undo her robe, letting it fall to the ground.

Picking up the glass of Scotch, Ryan tipped his head back and drank the entirety of the vessel. The warmth of the liquid filled his mouth, burning his throat before he turned his phone off and tossed the glass to the ground.

Wrapping his belt around his hand, Ryan stood and flashed a mischievous smile.

“Get on your knees, Tess.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

MORAG IV

_{Morag System - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{Nine Months Ago}

“The Main Man expected so much more from you.”

The pale skinned alien smiled as he lifted Clark by the neck until they were at eye level.. Clark could barely keep his eyes open as he struggled to fight back. Warworld had left him far more weakened than he had been able to admit to himself, he was still reeling from fighting against gladiator after gladiator over the course of the last year. The Monguls had left him nearly drained, physical and mental injuries plagued his body.

It was hard to recharge this deep into space.

The red eyes looking into his own belonged to a Czarnian, at least that’s what Marchew had called him. Apparently he was the last Czarnian in the galaxy, a feat he boasted, especially given that he had killed the rest of his people. Rocket had said he was an old rival from his bounty hunting days and referred to the alien by the name of Lobo. The normally brash and dismissive Rocket had even gone so far as to warn Clark that Lobo was not one to be trifled with lightly.

Apparently there was a bounty on Clark’s head. More than a few of the ‘gladiators’ were hunters who had infiltrated Warworld in much the same fashion that Clark had. But none sent a chill down his spine like Lobo.

“He’d devour your entrails if the contract called for it, and he’d thoroughly enjoy doin’ it too.”

Rocket’s voice floated through Clark’s head, as he turned towards his friend’s crumpled form. Lobo had taken them by surprise, a frag grenade lobbed haphazardly that had devastated the ancient ruins of the Kryptonian Colony world and tossed the Guardians in every direction. Marchew hadn’t even had a chance to react before Lobo was upon him. A sickening snap echoed from his spine while Rocket moved for his weapon only to be swatted away like no more than nuisance.

The others were currently lost, swallowed by the crumbling temple of the Religious Guild.

“Rocke-” Clark tried to call to his friend, the raccoon-like alien laid motionless several feet away, his breathing laboured, blood dripping from his nose and ears. Clark could feel his heart aching, panic setting in as things had quickly spiralled out of his control.

This was all his fault.

“Look at me, Kryptonian,” Lobo ordered, squeezing tighter and turning Clark’s face back towards him. “The Main Man wants his face to be the one that haunts your nightmares while you spend the rest of your life in a cage.”

“Why-” Clark managed to spit out, “-are y- doing th-?”

“Speak up, my man, it’s starting to sound like you’re choking on your own blood.” Lobo brought a knee up to Clark’s abdomen, driving it into his diaphragm as Clark spit blood onto the ground.

“After all the work the Main Man did to track you down, the least you can do is make it a challenge for me.” Lobo smiled, before his facial expressions rapidly shifted into a frown.

“Your ancestors are looking down with such disdain.” He added, before laughing wildly, Clark felt repulsed by the alien’s enjoyment, nearly gagging on Lobo’s breath that reeked of smoke and decaying flesh.

“The galaxy at large forgets your kind, but not me.” His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, “I remember every poke and prod, I remember the burning of the radiation as my body was exposed to it over and over again.” Lobo’s voice rose louder, “The madness and waking up with the blood of my own family on my hands.” He threw his head back and laughed free of any inhibitions, his entire body shaking with a form of mirth Clark couldn’t comprehend.

“And it was exhilarating!” He snapped before slamming Clark into the nearest temple column. Lobo’s hands released the Kryptonian, letting the inertia carry Clark to the ground as he flew through walls and supports before landing with a dull thud. Dust filled his lungs while debris ripped through the Sakaaran leather jacket he wore, the unfamiliar sensation of his own warm blood on his skin overwhelming his senses.

“Here I thought you could fly,”

Moving towards Clark, Lobo was suddenly stopped in his tracks as intertwined branches began to ensnare him, wrapping around his body and slowing him to a halt.

“I AM GROOT!”

“N-no!” Clark managed to spit out, “Groot, get out of here!”

“I am GROOT!”

“No one else is getting hurt today because of me!” Clark retorted, struggling to stand.

“Look at that,” Lobo sneered, “He does have some fight,” He laughed jovially, before launching himself backwards towards Groot. The sudden movement created enough slack in Groot’s branch-like arms that Lobo had freed his arms.

Clark could only wince at the sound of snapping wood, falling to his knees again in dismay and anger.

“Tell me, tree, do you burn?” Lobo asked, lighting a cigar before flicking the ash towards Groot as the Colossus Flora struggled to get away.

“Do you?” challenged Clark from across the ancient narthex. His eyes illuminated the darkness with an eerie red glow before unleashing the full force of his heat vision on Lobo. He stood, taking a step forward as Lobo let out a roar of pain. The acrid smell of burning flesh overwhelmed Clark’s nostrils before suddenly, he felt a hand clamp over his eyes.

He cried out in pain as his skull began to fracture under Lobo’s grip.

“Boy, that hurt so good.” Lobo hooted, “Give me some more, the Main Man wants more!” He hollered, hurtling Clark through the nearest wall. The cold damp air of the oceanic planet hit his skin while the moon glowed overhead, the reflected light of the system's orange star doing little to recharge his drained cells.

“More! More! More!” Lobo continued to yell, each word accompanied by another blow of his chain wrapped fist. Clark watched the moon as it moved in and out of focus, the faces of friends and family hazily floated in front of his eyes.

Chloe; her green eyes sparkled along with her beaming smile, no one had ever looked at him the same way that Chloe had except maybe-

Blood flew from his split lip.

Lana; heat flushed behind his eyes, still remembering the first day of school in Grade 10. Lana in her cheerleader uniform triggered his heat vision for the first time.

“Oh no, we’re not doing that again,” Lobo laughed before jamming his fingers in Clark’s eyes. Clark cried out in agony, the sensation reminding him of-

Ryan; playfighting with his brother while he was younger. Coughing up a lung while scrambling for his inhaler, asthma holding him back until one day he was suddenly faster and stronger than his brother.

“Stop fighting and this can all be slaggin’ over.”

Mom; Intervening between him and Ryan. Mom always had a solution that didn’t involve using strength or force to get your own way.

“You can still quit while you’re breathing my man, or the Main Man can turn you over to the Collector for his taxidermy collection.”

“You can quit if you want, Son, but just remember, quitting’s a very hard habit to break.”

“Dad!” Clark cried out, barely able to see before suddenly pushing Lobo off of him. His eyes were in agony, he definitely felt like a lung had collapsed and his mouth was filled with the metallic taste of his own blood.

Through the blurry shadows, Clark saw a flurry of motion, bracing for another attack from Lobo only to let out a small sigh of relief when it didn’t happen. A warcry rang out through the night air, echoing over the alien ocean. The ground shaking from the impact of another’s approach.

“Yargh!” A woman’s voice echoed over the desolate planet. Her weapon swung through the air as Lobo moved to avoid the attack.

“Leave my husband alone!” The redheaded warrior shouted, her sword threatening to cleave Lobo in two as Maxima wielded it expertly.

“Hey, I didn’t see no ring!” Lobo chuckled, blocking the blade with his hook and chain. “The Main Man respects the sanctity of marriage.”

“I will hold no quarter after your underhanded attack!” Maxima roared, lifting the blade above her head and swinging hard.

“My man, you pulled this?” Lobo roared hysterically, as he looked at Clark trying to crawl away. “That’s one premium babe, look at the way she handles that thing.”

“Lylla,” Maxima muttered to herself, “On my position.”

Lobo realized too late that the warrior woman was speaking to another through a communicator as the roar of the Guardians’ Thanagarian craft filled the air, the swift vessel banking around and opening fire where Lobo and Maxima were locked in combat.

Disengaging, Maxima dove to Clark protection while Lobo did his best to avoid the weapons fire. Growling, he turned to attack the pair before being blocked by another assault run of the ship as the Lylla deftly navigated the craft.

“Slag it.”

The Thanagarian vessel pulled around again, opening fire on Lobo as he ran to get out of the way of the blasts. The ground beneath him began to crumble, tripping the Czarnian as he ran. Stumbling to a knee, he roared in agony as a weapons blast made contact. It was followed by another blast and then another until the cliff and Lobo both were gone, swallowed by the alien ocean.

Landing the craft, the otter-like Princess scurried from the cockpit to the landing ramp where Maxima was helping Clark to his feet.

“Where are the others?”

“Inside,” Clark managed to weakly, “I’m so sorry-”

“Shush, my love,” Maxima replied, kneeling in front of Clark, “Save your strength.”

“H-he’s gone?” Clarked asked as the redhead woman nodded slowly.

“Yes, I pray we never see him again.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

KNOWHERE

_{Edge of Galactic Rim - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{Two Years Ago}

“The Guardians of the Galaxy?”

Clark stared back at the rabbit-like alien with a look of disbelief on his face. This had been the strangest day he had ever had. Though to be fair, he hadn’t known what to expect before setting off into the vastness of space.

Sure, Smallville had seen its fair share of strange, Chloe had an entire wall in the Torch’s office dedicated to the weird and bizarre. The meteors that had accompanied Clark to Earth had left their mark on the town, warping people mentally and endowing them with abilities that at times rivalled his own. But anything from out of this world, that had solely been limited to Clark himself.

“We’re a group of independent contractors from different backgrounds who decide to put aside all that and work to defend Andromeda from people like Mongol and his Warworld.” Rodg’y explained, “We’ve just been lacking the fire power to do it, and with the loss of Groot, we were just burning fuel with no real direction.”

“But now?” Clark asked,

“Now we’ve got you, Kryptonian or not, you held your own against Taghurrhu,” Rodg’y replied, “That’s no small feat,”

“Why not send Taghurrhu in then?”

“It’s not that we haven’t considered it, but a Karnan isn’t the same draw, no doubt that Mongul already has some fighting for him. But the ‘Last Son of Krypton’...”

“I thought you both agreed I couldn’t be Kryptonian.”

“Hey, if whatever you actually are was enough to fool a Nova’s scanners, then that’s good enough to convince Mongul.” Rocket chimed in as he slapped Clark on the back.

“T.I.T.S. up in forty,”

“What?”

“T.I.T.S, that’s the name of that beautiful ship over there.”

“He’s confused, because it’s a Terran expression about mammaries.” Interjected a new voice, as Clark turned to meet yet another anthropomorphic alien. This one resembled an otter adorned in what appeared to be very regal attire.

“Princess Lylla of Sal’s Folly, it’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“Clark, Clark Kent,”

“Clark,” Lylla smiled. “Rocky, be kind to Clark.”

“Rocky?” Clark raised an eyebrow, “You don’t strike me as a ‘Rocky’?”

“One person in the entire ‘verse gets away with callin’ me that, and it ain’t you,” Rocket replied, “So you call me that again, and I’ll make it my life’s mission to find something your smooth skin ain’t impervious to.”

“So why’d you name your ship after, what was it you said, Lylla?” Clark asked with a grin, “Mammaries?”

“T.I.T.S., it’s an acronym, doesn’t have anything to do with mammaries.”

“Not even a particularly clever ship, it means ‘Thanagarian Interstellar Travel Ship.’” Lylla deadpanned, “Rocky’s not particularly cultured, but he is pragmatic and he has heart.”

“Not in front of the new guy,” Rocket muttered, kicking the ground slightly as Rodg’y approached the group.

“Clark, I think these should fit you,” He said, handing Clark a Sakaaran leather jacket and some other clothing. “Should make you stick out less, at least until we get to Warworld.”

“And that’ll help,” Rocket piped up. “Especially since Taneleer just put a bounty on your head.” He said holding up his wrist and projecting the wanted flier. Rodg’y looked between the gathered Guardians before bringing two digits to his mouth and whistling sharply.

“Make it T.I.T.S up in five.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

“And in tonight’s broadcast, we invite Gordon G. Godfrey on for his perspective on the recent events in New York. Gordon, you’ve been an outspoken opponent of these ‘superpowered’ individuals since they first started gaining traction. What are your thoughts on the attack on New York by yet unidentified creatures and the intervention of a group of superpowered individuals?"

“Let me tell you, Rick, I think of all people, Lionel Luthor is the only one being sane about this. These beings of mass destruction need to be controlled and regulated. You think about all the controversy we’ve had over the years about firearms, and now we’ve got people with not only the ability to produce enough nuclear power to run a city for a year, but they’re walking about freely using these abilities without consequence.”

“That might be true, but you can’t deny they saved New York from imminent destruction.”

“Can’t I? That didn’t look like random wanton destruction, it looked targeted and specific. Retaliatory if I’m allowed to speculate. If you have ‘superheroes’, you will soon have ‘supervillains’. It’s called escalation, and it’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better if we do not get ahead of this and regulate-”

Martha Kent clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth, a scowl crossing her face as she watched the debate unfold on the television. These were people who, like Clark, had been blessed with extraordinary gifts and chose to use them to help others. They didn’t deserve to be vilified on national television.

The continuous arguing of Gordon Godfrey reverberated through the screen lit room. The one bedroom apartment above the local coffeeshop still didn’t feel like home to her, it was simultaneously too small while having too many of her possessions from the farm packed within it.

A long exhale filled the room as her hand moved to a framed photograph of Jonathan and Clark. A small tear welled in the corner of her eye before dropping on the glass as she hurriedly wiped it away. Jonathan was looking back at her, proudly beaming while Clark was excitedly driving the old tractor for the first time.

He had always been such a happy kid, always saw the best in every circumstance. Even when there was no reason, Clark had been able to find the silver lining on every cloud. It was something she had been trying to emulate in the last couple of months even when it seemed like each storm was followed by another.

First Clark didn’t come home, then Jonathan, then the farm…

Martha’s hand drifted to her phone, opening her recent calls as her finger hovered over Ryan’s name. He had sent her last five calls to voicemail, there was no guarantee he’d pick up today. A sob suddenly escaped from her mouth as Martha realized just how alone she felt.

“Jonathan,” The television continued in the background as Martha spoke to the photograph, tracing her husband’s face. “I need you to guide him home.” She pleaded in the dimly lit room.

“Please, bring my son home.”

A sudden knock at the door nearly caused Martha to drop the photograph grasped in her hands. Jumping to her feet, she hurriedly ran to open it, hope filling her heart as she threw the door open, looking up only for her eyes to meet an empty hallway before lowering her gaze to find Chloe standing outside her door.

“Hi, Mrs. Kent, I was in the neighbourhood visiting my Dad, and I thought I’d drop by.” She smiled holding up a tray in one hand and a bag in the other.

“I brought bagels and coffee,”

“That’s very sweet, Chloe, please come in,” Martha replied, trying her best to hide her disappointment as Chloe’s keen green eyes tracked the sad smile on the older woman’s face.

“I should have called,” Chloe apologized, “You were obviously expecting someone else, I didn’t mean to get your hopes up,” She said, offering a cup of coffee.

“It’s fine, Chloe, I appreciate the visit either way. I was just being a foolish old woman,”

“I haven’t given up hope on him yet either,” Chloe reassured Martha, placing a hand on the other woman’s back. “Clark doesn’t quit, he’s out there fighting to get back to you, he’s just going to be a little longer until he comes home.”

“We interrupt this broadcast with a breaking headline. Moments ago, an unidentified object was seen over Smallville, our sources say it touched down near a farm off of county road thirty eight. In developing news, our on site reporter now says that Sheriff Adams is in a stand off with a man who fell from the sky. We’re live with Cat Grant on location. Cat, what’s happening there?”

“That’s our farm-” Martha exclaimed as both women paused to watch the scene on the television. Beyond the woman reporting the story was a white wolf beside a tall man. His hair was longer than either remembered, and the beard was new, but to the pair of women who loved him, that face was unmistakable.

“That’s Clark.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^{Two Years Ago}

“Space?”

Jonathan sat across from Clark on the wrap around porch that bordered the generational farmhouse. The farm had been in his family as far back as the land records went, Jonathan having inherited it from his father, Hiram who inherited it from his father.

“Clark, when I first taught you how to drive, you’d get lost taking the truck into town and that’s a five minute drive. Your first year in Metropolis, your mother and I started keeping a tally on the fridge of the number of times you took the wrong bus, and now you’re telling me you want to fly into space to find a homeworld that you don’t know the name of, let alone what galaxy it’s in?”

The younger man let out a small chuckle as he continued to nurse his iced tea.

“Son, I know your gifts are, well, immense. They’re a blessing and a curse and they’ve helped us out a lot. Thanks to you, the farm is turning a profit probably for the first time since you were a kid. We’re at a place where not only can I replace you, but I want you to go. You’re destined for things much greater than this farm. I’m not going to force this life on you or your brother.” Jonathan took a sip of his coffee, looking towards the falling night sky.

“But space, I’m not sure your gifts are even able to survive that.”

“I’ve been to the moon, Dad.” Clark replied as his father faltered, turning to look at his son. “I uh, wanted to see if I could. I can break the atmosphere, I can hold my breath nearly indefinitely, the sun light is undiluted out there, if anything I’m almost stronger in space.”

“Why did you go to the moon?”

“I needed somewhere quiet to think. Somewhere far enough away from all the voices.”

“And how will you find where you came from, it’s not like you can just ask directions.”

Clark smiled softly.

“No, but there’s so much more out there, Dad.” He replied, “It’s not just our solar system, there are worlds beyond, I could see so much out there.” Clark explained looking skyward. “There has to be someone who knows where I’m from.”

“Clark, Jonathan, dinner!” Martha Kent’s voice rang out from within the kitchen as Jonathan placed a hand on Clark’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“I learned to trust your judgement a long time ago, and I know that look when you’ve got to do something. “ He smiled towards his son.

“I’ll be here when you get back to hear all about it.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

“Jimmy!”

Lois’ voice echoed in the small supply closet as Jimmy struggled to hold the phone up to his ear while the blonde in front of him continued to unbutton his shirt, nibbling at his chest while her hands wandered elsewhere.

“Jimmy!” Lois repeated the commotion around her threatening to drown out her voice as winds whipped from the vehicle above and people ran frantically for cover. It had been a month since New York had seen a united force of heroes repel an attack by what the Bugle had dubbed ‘Fire Trolls’ and it seemed now it was Metropolis’ turn for a journey into mystery.

“Are you seeing this?” She asked, “Please tell me you’re seeing this, better yet tell me you have a camera going.”

“I’m uh,” Jimmy bit down on his lip to stifle moan, the thud of his belt hitting the floor almost audible enough to be picked up by the phone. “In the middle of something-”

“Why’d you answer then?”

“I knew you’d keep calling if I didn- uh!”

“Oh gross, Jimmy,” Lois snapped, her eyes watching the figure circling menacingly above. “You still owe me for missing New York, I hope she knows you’re not going to call her!”

“Yur not gwoing ta cwall mwe?” The woman replied with her mouth full, looking up at Jimmy with wide eyes full of disbelief.

“She’s just jealous,” Jimmy whispered, gesturing to his phone while covering the speaker with his hand, “Gotta go, Lois.”

“Thanks for nothing, Jimmy,” Lois replied, clicking the lock button on her phone as she looked back towards the sky.

“Story of the freakin’ year and my stringer’s banging the coffee girl.” She muttered, resuming pointing her phone towards the figure on the flying motorcycle. Billowing locks of black hair waved about wildly behind the figure’s head. He was dressed in materials Lois had never seen but they closely resembled leather and denim. His pale skin was covered in rippling muscles, coarse hair and numerous scars.

Under different circumstances, Lois might have bought him a beer.

“Alright, Hagrid, are you ready for your close up?” Capturing several photos, Lois cursed Jimmy for not being ready with his DLR beside her. Phone photos were not how she expected to capture her first page one exclusive.

The sudden roar of jetpacks momentarily deafened Lois, interrupting the sound of the flying bike overhead and signalling the arrival of Luthorcorp’s sponsored law enforcement; the ‘Paladins’. In the weeks that had followed the event in New York, Lionel Luthor had expedited his anti-vigilante crusade and, using his vast wealth, introduced his own privatized police force to the city and promoted Sergeant Paul Denning over the special unit.

As the Paladins formed a perimeter around the alien, they were joined by Luthorcorp’s other contribution to the city. A woman dubbed ‘Hope’, the city’s first registered vigilante and the product of the ‘Sentinel-One’ Program.

Despite being fully registered through the program and associated with Infinity Inc.; a Luthorcorp subsidiary, Lois had been unable to find further identification for Hope. It was as though she had appeared from thin air. The most that had turned up was an employee identification badge from Cadmus Labs.

“Unregistered Metahuman, you will power down your vehicle and surrender yourself immediately.” Hope ordered as Lois quickly switched to video. The street had emptied itself out, along with most of New Troy as hundreds clambered to the windows of the Luthorcorp and Daily Planet windows to watch the events unfold.

Hope began to float into the air, the metahuman showcasing one of her abilities in a moderate intimidation tactic. A chuckle echoed through the street as the alien pulled what looked to be a cigar out and lit it. He blew a smoke ring, before stepping off of the vehicle and dropping to the pavement below.

The concrete and asphalt beneath him gave way, splintering and cracking before he stood and walked towards Hope. Lasers from targeted weapons traced his body, the Paladins unsure if they should assume his body had the same vulnerabilities as a human before they ultimately all settled on aiming for the head.

That elicited another chuckle alongside a raised eyebrow.

“Basic is such an ineffective method of communication; it lacks a certain nuance that’s going to make threatening you much more exhaustive.” The alien spat out the side of his mouth while firmly chomping on the freshly lit cigar. Beside him on the ground, a hook dragged along the pavement attached to a chain wrapped around his wrist while his waist bore a holster and various other armaments.

“I’m only here for the Kryptonian, the Main Man has no quarrel with you, but should you bastiches get in my way, I will have no issue leveling this city, frag, even this scruthole world to fulfil my contract.”

“And what is your contract?” Hope asked.

“The return and capture of the Kryptonian bastiche.” The alien replied, “I know he sought refuge on this planet, and I know this time his slaggin’ Guardian friends aren’t coming to help.” He paused, taking his cigar out of his mouth and flashing an unsettling toothy grin.

“Took care of that personally.”

“You are not authorized to operate within Metropolis, if you would, please place your hands behind your back, the Paladins will take you for processing and then registration. You may peacefully resume your search after.”

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” The alien smiled as Lois watched the chain loosen from his wrist. The Paladins above opened fire, their weapons seemingly doing nothing, forcing Lois herself to take cover from the ricocheting shells.

Hope sprung into action, rushing forward with a fist cocked only to be downed by the large hook before becoming ensnared and dragged through the crumbling pavement.

“Don’t feel bad, the Kryptonian already lost to me once.” He taunted, “Ain’t like anything on this backwater dustbowl of a planet was going to stand a chance, let alone a keezy fem like you.”

Hope struggled against the chain as the alien reeled her in closer, continuing to be unbothered by the Paladins’ weaponfire. Bringing her up so they were face to face, he extended his black tongue and licked the side of Hope’s face before smiling wickedly at her.

“Do feel bad about this next part though.” He moved fast for a being his size, Hope barely had time to register what happened as she found herself flung through the air, smashing into the nearest Paladin before continuing to be swung around like some sort of living rope dart.

Her hands scrambled outward, trying to find anything to grab ahold of to stop the alien’s assault on her peers. Brick, rebar and other materials tore at the skin of her fingers, threatening to pry her nails free before suddenly she managed to anchor herself.

With all of her might, Hope pulled on the chain, unseating the alien’s footing and for the briefest of moments, she managed to get him airborne. With all of her might, Metropolis’ registered defender flew forward and delivered the hardest blow she could muster. Her fist connect with the alien’s chain, following a sickening crack that reverberated through her entire forearm.

Sparks exploded from her arm as Hope landed, cradling the now injured limb. The alien in turn landed on his fight, turning to look at her as he licked a drop of blood from his bottom lip.

“That’ll cost ya.”

Police sirens echoed over the open fields as the Sheriff’s cruiser raced along the path the mysterious object had taken over Smallville. Training behind Sheriff Adams was the local fire department as they raced in the direction of the former Kent Farm.

Beside the strange man, the white wolf stirred, its hackles rising and eyes glowing red. The man steadied a hand beside the alien creature, calming it as a foreign vehicle turned the corner and came to a halt several yards from him.

Stepping out of her vehicle, Sheriff Nancy Adams immediately drew her weapon. She had expected a downed crop duster, not a man in a black and silver leotard and given what she had just heard over the radio about Metropolis, she wasn’t taking any chances.

“Call off your dog and put your hands behind your head.” She ordered, her finger hovering above the trigger waiting for any excuse to pull it.

“”

...

Download Complete.

“I won’t repeat myself, boy.” Nancy yelled, “Hands behind your head, interlace those fingers!” Her finger moved to the trigger. The strange man’s eyes suddenly turned to the weapon, a flash of red was followed by pain as searing heat burned the Sheriff’s hand and caused her to drop the gun.

“I am Kal-El of Krypton.” Kal stated, rising from the ground as he identified himself. “And by the order of General Zod.” He continued.

“You will kneel before me.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

^{Author’s Note: If you are an existing player, I have retconned my previous posts to have specific scenes set in the past while having changed some of Clark’s details in his Character Sheet.
Moving forward, Clark went into space two years before the present. If you’re a new player, carry on, all previous posts are in line with this one.}

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

“It has been two years, Ryan,”

The male in question let out a heavy sigh as he continued to fold laundry before looking up at his fiancé. Lane’s disarming green eyes were full of nothing but genuine sympathy as she reached across and put her hand on top of his.

“Clark was only supposed to be gone for a year and-”

“There’s been no word, I know, he didn’t reach out at all?” She asked, “That’s not like him is it, I always thought Clark was something of a homebody, the fact he took the trip at all was unusual. And especially to see the Pogues?” A sad chuckle came from the pair at the remark.

“Trust me, Lana, I did everything I could to get ahold of him. Especially after everything with Dad, I still can’t believe he wasn’t there-”

“It nearly broke your Mom’s heart, I could see it in her eyes, but your mom isn’t just anyone. Martha Kent is a fortress.”

“This is all Lori’s fault,” Ryan exclaimed, suddenly standing. “If she hadn’t connected with her heritage in Trit-” Ryan froze as Lana paused to look at him. “Tri-, Tr-, uh Trinidad.”

“Trinidad?” Lana laughed, caught off guard by the absurd notion that Clark’s former university girlfriend; a pale skinned redhead, had any relation to Trinidad. “Must have been a pretty distant relative.”

“You could say that,” Ryan replied, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. After everything that had happened and with Clark having now essentially abandoned them, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was still protecting his secret. Clark was likely out there on some planet, reunited with his ‘real’ family, living the life of a king with others like him.

There was no way he knew how much pain and suffering he had left in his wake when he left.

“Sorry, Lana, I need some-”

“Actually,” Lana cut her fiancé off, “I was actually hoping we could talk about something else. Like maybe finally setting a wedding date?” She asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, it’s callous, but other than filing the paperwork, Clark has essentially been declared dead at this point and I really don’t want to keep putting our lives on hold if he’s not coming back.”

Ryan couldn’t really find a counter-argument inside himself. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford a wedding, Mr. Irons and AmerTek had been extraordinarily good to him, and especially through all his time off with his Dad. It really didn’t look like Clark was going to return and Ryan knew it would mean a lot to his mother if he and Lana officially tied the knot.

“How soon were you thinking?” He asked, forcing himself to smile in spite of the conversation that had led here.

“Well, as much as I’d like tomorrow, I’d also want to do this right and getting vendors together takes some time. Smallville was always lovely in the late spring, right as everything starts to blossom, how do you feel about May?”

“It’s a date,” Ryan replied, leaning in and kissing Lana, his thumb tracing the ring, suddenly reminded of exactly how he’d been able to afford such rock barely out of school. Clark had forged the ring for him, a show that he had truly buried the hatchet between the days when he and Ryan had competed for Lana’s attention.

He pulled away from Lana, bringing a hand to his side of his eye as he subtly wiped it.

“Sorry, I’m just going to step out for a moment, I have an errand to run.”

“There’s a story here, Mr. White.”

Lois pleaded with the older man who seemed to only be half listening, too busy being distracted by the alluring smell of street meat while he dressed his hot dog with a single strand of mustard., finishing it with a healthy topping of chopped onions and pickles. Tipping the vendor, Perry White turned back to Lois, taking a bite of his food with one hand before perusing the photos she had provided with the other.

“Look, Miss Lane, let's say I believe you, you didn’t exactly bring me Pulitzer level material here. Couple of pictures that are mostly black inky and blotchy images and, the kicker here being the story you want to run is that Lionel Luthor, the man about to become my boss, orchestrated the raid on his own company and had his own people killed.”

“I mean, I think he’s working with someone, they say it’s Morgan Edge-”

“Who are they?” Perry challenged,

“Y’know, other reporters, the news.” Lois gestured broadly around herself, “It’s basically common knowledge.”

“And if I put it in print without a source, it’s libel.”

“Yeah, but you’re Perry White,” Lois argued, “You’re like a dog with a bone once you get a story, there’s not one you can’t break wide open.”

“Those days are behind me, Miss Lane.” Perry snapped back, “Great Caesar’s Ghost, Lane, the integrity of the paper is gone, print media is almost dead. You want front page material, go bat your eyelashes at the next superhero to plant himself in Metropolis or otherwise get a shot of Lex Luthor with his pants down. No one cares about Lionel Luthor’s power plays, people are complacent sheep who hide behind a keyboard but wouldn’t lift a sign at a picket line. And why should they when someone in a mask will show up and save them?”

He took a bite of the hot dog, angrily mashing the tube steak while onion and pickle spilled onto the sidewalk.

“We used to expose the good and the bad in the world, we used to be relevant. But now, unless you’re in a fancy costume, they don’t care. Villains like Lionel Luthor are remarkably unremarkable compared to some kook in a whacky costume spraying ketchup and mayonnaise at people.”

“That can’t be real-”

“Would it matter if it wasn’t? You have to pause to consider it. Look, even ‘Thor’ eventually got greedy, he used to do his saves in the shadows and now he’s giving interviews.”

“I don’t actually think ‘the Blur’ and Thor are the same hero.” Lois argued, “But I also don’t think the Blur has been in Metropolis for nearly two years, I think he disappeared and Thor moved in soon after and just let people assume they were one in the same.”

“And see,” Perry replied, “That’s a story I’d love to publish for you. Forget Lionel Luthor and focus on that.”

“I-”

“Focus on that, Lane, prove that Thor and the Blur are two different people, hell, find Thor’s real identity and you’ll never need to write another story again.” Perry yelled as he walked away. “And don’t ever interrupt my lunch again!”

“What happened to you, Perry?” Lois muttered as she found herself alone on the busy Metropolis street. Suddenly a chorus of gasps drew Lois’ eyes skyward as something entered the atmosphere above them, streaking across the sky in bursts of reds, orange and yellow. It passed over Metropolis, continuing West before vanishing over the horizon.

Not even a minute went by before the roar of a powerful energy created a sonic boom that shook the city. A trail of billowing black smoke chased after the original object before slowing above Metropolis. Pulling her phone out, Lois opened the camera and zoomed in on the object as it began to circle the city.

Riding atop of what looked like a motorcycle was the largest man she had ever seen, pale as a ghost with wild black hair.

And then suddenly he looked back at her.

A crimson crystalline pod shot through the black of the Milky Way galaxy, hurdling towards the Sol System. Fragments of the exterior chipped away by the sheer velocity as it exited the warp point and continued to accelerate through the stars. Weapons’ fire ricocheted into the unknown abyss, blasts immediately deflected by the shield surrounding the figures inside.

Entering the Sol System, it continued on a path towards Earth, not slowed by Saturn’s rings or Jupiter’s gravitational pull. All the while its pursuer continued to close in, the Czarnian atop the space hog letting out a wild whoop like an old west cowboy in pursuit of a loose steer.

The pod suddenly ejected numerous glass like fragments, firing them towards the pursuer and lacerating his skin in several places. The charged sunstone fragments burned like a plasma cutter and at their current speed were packing enough force to cripple even a Ravager M-Ship.

An engine on the space hog suddenly sputtered, the sunstone fragments severing the fuel line and damaging the thermal exhaust. The crystalline pod gained the lead again as the Czarnian cursed his prey.

The pair rounded Mars before approaching Earth’s moon as the pod slingshotted around the satellite before entering Earth’s atmosphere. The friction started to exhaust the last of its energy supplies as it burned across the sky. Dropping out of the stratosphere above the East Coast of the United States, it left a brilliant trail of red, orange and yellow across the blue sky as sunstone refracted sunlight.

Slowly the pod disintegrated, revealing a figure inside. Clad in a black suit with silver panels and a large emblem across his chest, he was tightly clutching a hold of a white canine before the pair began to lose altitude. The figure plummeted from the sky, his path almost unconsciously guided as he flew through the American Midwest. The sky above Smallville was streaked by his path, a sonic boom shaking the down below before the figure crashed to the dirt with enough force to send a tremor through the entire town.

Splinters flew in all directions as he blasted through the ‘For Sale by Bank’ sign outside of an archway from which hung an iron sign that read ‘Kent’. Finally coming to a halt in the front yard of the empty farm.

The pair lay there motionless, slowly soaking up the sunlight, before the wolf-dog suddenly moved, letting out a small whine before licking the young man’s scruffy beard as he slowly groaned awake. His eyes went wide as he looked around at unfamiliar surroundings. A small groan escaped his mouth as he pushed himself into an upright position.

“?”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

KRYPTON

_{Rao System - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away}

“The Council rests. Take Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van into custody for processing.”

Ro-Zan ordered as members of the Military Guild stepped forward. Suddenly, a loud splash echoed across the cold, stone floor as Lara stood there in stunned silence, a puddle between her feet, before gasping in pain as her knees began to buckle.

“Jor-” She mustered.

“Now!” Jor-El yelled as the two members of the Military Guild suddenly turned their weapons on the Council and Jax-Ur. Screams came from the dark as weapon fire illuminated the various Kryptonians seated in the audience. Jor-El rushed to his wife’s side as the roar of a jetpack overhead alerted him to the presence of a shocktrooper. Fighting against his restraints, Jor-El used his body to shield his wife before the trooper raised a weapon towards the couple.

A low-yield blast erupted from the barrel, missing Jor-El and destroying the link between the restraints. In the ensuing scuffle, Jor-El used his now-freed hands to grab the sidearm from the soldier’s hip before raising it and squeezing the trigger.

Behind the soldier echoed the sound of a weapon clattering to the floor as a member of the Science Guild dropped dead. Taking a step back, the shocktrooper raised his weapon, clearing the room before retracting his helmet’s mask.

“Zod,”

Jor-El managed to smile between breaths, “You took your time.” He added, patting the soldier’s shoulder armour as Zod returned the expression and held out a hand. A sigh escaped from between Jor-El’s lips before he took the outstretched hand and stood. Spinning around, he helped Lara back to her feet.

“We haven’t much time. It looks like Kal knows a thing or two about making a dramatic entrance.”

“A flair for the dramatic, he must be your son.” Zod smiled, guiding the couple out of the courtroom and into the open streets of Kandor. Smoke rose in the distance, catching the attention of Jor-El who looked to Zod.

“You were right about Krypton; it didn’t take much to electrify the third rail.”

“Civil War is upon us, then?”

“Aye.” Zod nodded, “The Labour Guild was all too willing to throw their lives away so that no one else should live in the squalor they’ve been forced into. I’ve gathered a few loyal battalions, but we’ve still got a long fight ahead of us. Don’t suppose your brother made any headway with allies from the Science Guild?”

“I haven’t heard from Zor-El in a while. He had to move Allura and Kara to the colonies to ensure their safety.”

“This is shiny and all, my Love, but I-” Lara cried out again, “Do believe, I’m about to give birth for the first time in a millennium.”

“Then let’s make sure this isn’t happening on the streets of Kandor.”

“How do we get out of the city? We should regroup with the others offworld.”

“I still have friends in Argo.” Zod replied, “We’ll steal away in among a departing argosy.”

“The sooner the better, gentlemen,” Lara muttered as she held onto Jor-El. He kissed her hand while keeping an arm wrapped around her, supporting his wife’s weight. The chaos from inside the council chambers had already spilled into the streets, Kandorian armed forces facing off against Zod’s loyal, while members of the Labour Guild rushed to join the fray, quickly armed by their fellow rebels. While the other Guilds possessed the coveted genetics and their accompanying abilities denied to the lowest Caste, the Labour Guild outnumbered the other four Guilds at a ratio of at least two to one.

“STOP THEM!”

“Jor, can you cover us?” Zod asked, tossing his weapon to Jor-El, who nodded in return. Scooping up Lara with ease, Zod retaliated against their pursuers with a blast of his heat vision while Jor-El laid down cover fire. Kandor was the largest city on Krypton and heavily developed, lending itself to numerous alleys and pathways through the thriving metropolis as the trio shook their tail and made their way to the nearest port.

Putting his fingers to his mouth, Jor-El whistled sharply. In the distance a howl was heard in response before Jor raised his weapon and laid down fire. Despite his best effort, Jor watched their pursuers continue to gain ground. Raising the weapon to fire, he felt it suddenly jam, a combination of steam and smoke rising out of the chamber as the overheated thermal clip ejected to cool.

Nodding to Zod, Jor-El urged him to continue, Lara cried in protest as Jor-El simply yelled over the din.

“Kal must survive.”

“You have my word, Jor,” Zod replied, “I will spare the child the war so he can be the future that neither of us will see.”

With a nod, Jor-El took a hold of the firearm and swung it, shattering the helmet on the nearest guard. Delivering another hard blow with the butt of the rifle, he drove back the next assailant until the weapon came back to life as the thermal clip was reinserted.

Raising the weapon, he felt heat slice through his arm. A cry of anguish echoed through Kandor as Jor-El stumbled, nearly dropping his weapon. The hum of armed weapons being trained on him caused him to look through the fog of pain, as the last of their pursuers moved to arrest him.

Until suddenly a white wolf was atop of them.

Cloned from an ancient Kryptonian species, the beast was stronger, faster and more capable than any of the Caste born.

“Krypto!” Jor-El managed, taking another breath. He looked towards the Kandorian guards with a smug smile before speaking again.

“Tear them to shreds.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Previously

“Jimmy!”

Lois pointed from the bow of the small rigid inflatable boat, gesturing for her hired stringer to follow the direction of her barely visible hand as she pointed towards the elevated deck of the Excelsior.

Another flash of red illuminated the night, the blast barely audible over the sound of crashing waves in the Metropolis Harbour. Surrounding the hull of the cargo ship were small crafts of an unknown make to Lois. They weren’t conventional jetskis, and they weren’t something she’d seen growing up on military bases.

“Did you get that, Jimmy?”

“I actually prefer Ja-”

“Did you get that?”

“Lois, I can’t see a thing out here.”

“On the deck, weapons I don’t recognize,” Lois gestured, “Look they have lasers and space jetskis,”

“So what do they want with a Luthorcorp ship?”

“You’re assuming those aren’t from the ship, Jimmy!” Lois countered as they killed the engine and floated atop the rocking waves.

“Get recording, night vision, I want to see everything they’re taking from the ship.” Lois ordered as James held his camera steady.

“Long as you’re paying, you got it, boss.”

“Enough lip, Jimmy,” Lois retorted, “Give me the DLR, I want to get some snaps of that big crate.”

“Looks like it’s an AmerTek.” Jimmy muttered as Lois clicked the shutter a couple of times.

“Yeah, so there’s definitely a story there. What was Luthorcorp transporting for AmerTek and who are these guys, why do they want it?”

“Probably just a random hit.”

“There’s nothing random about this, Jimmy.” Lois snapped back, “That’s some serious hardware those guys are packing and this is not where you’d dock a ship.”

“Pirates then?”

“In Metropolis? Get your head out of your ass, Jimmy.” Lois looked down on the camera, examining the photos she had taken before pressing the zoom. “There’s a number on the crate, I bet we can get this cross referenced.”

“How?”

“People owe me favours,” Lois replied, “Where are the authorities? I tipped them off half an hour ago.”

“Why are you worried about the police?” Jimmy snickered, “Thor will show up any second now,”

“Oh not you too,” Lois replied, “Guy is just a gloryhound with a chip on his shoulder. These superheroes are no replacement for actual law and order. They aren’t the police and they aren’t a courtroom. We have these systems in place for a reason, even if they are broken, they’re not as broken as taking the law into your own hands. If he actually wanted to help, he’d work with the system, help fix it. Not, well whatever it is he does.”

“You’re not a fan of the big guy then?”

“If you ask me, he’s likely not that big, and no, I prefer men in a uniform who have earned it, thank you.” Lois replied re-dialling the police.

“9-1-1, What’s your emergency?”

“I need police, there’s a Luthorcorp ship, the Excelsior-”

The line suddenly went dead.

“Definitely not a random hit.

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

“Metropolis does not need a man in a silly red cape to save it.”

The press stood gathered outside of the front steps of the Daily Planet as Lionel Luthor roared from the temporary podium erected in front of the brass trimmed revolving door.

“The newspaper is supposed to be informative and reflect the opinions of the people. Not the swooning of a schoolgirl crush. I don’t know what editor approved this front page, but this derivative dribble belongs in the Inquisitor.” A mirthless chuckle rumbled from his throat as cameras flashed from every angle. The Mayoral candidate had caused quite the fuss with his impromptu press conference, leaving his opponent, Bradford Sackett, little time to prepare.

“Like Metropolis, the Daily Planet needs a strong guiding hand and for that reason, I have begun the process of acquiring the Daily Planet. Much like Luthorcorp’s twin towers, the Daily Planet is a feature of Metropolis’s skyline. Should it not reflect the city it dwells within?”

“The same city where just last night one of my cargo ships was attacked. Where was Thor then? The entire crew that was aboard that ship is missing, gone without a trace. Our hearts are with their families, and I personally am pledging a year’s salary to the families to help should the worst come to pass. I pray that it won’t, but I won’t be praying to Thor.“

Lionel hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath.

“These so-called superheroes are appearing all across this great country, but who are they accountable to? And what of the escalation they incur? First we have extraordinary vigilantes, then we’ll have superhuman criminals? What’s to stop someone like Thor from having a bad day and attacking civilians. Where are the checks and balances? The accountability?”

A murmur went through the crowd, most of them suddenly finding themselves agreeing with Lionel.

“When I am your Mayor, I will be working closely with Commissioner Henderson and we will be drafting a Vigilante Registration Act. If these people want to uphold the law, they will do so while wearing a badge and under the scrutiny of the people. Not by hiding in the shadows or through exposés. Who elected Thor?” Lionel yelled, met with a chorus of agreement as the crowd began to engage with the mayoral candidate.

“Crime has in fact risen in Metropolis since the appearance of a red-hooded hero. Instead of helping our fair city, he’s proven to be a lightning rod for trouble. As of this moment, I am calling for the immediate arrest of Thor and am putting out a reward. A thousand dollars to anyone who provides a tip that proves useful regarding his identity, a million to anyone who can bring him in.”

Cheers rose up from the crowd, drowning out protests from Sackett as the incumbent mayor scrambled for the microphone.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” He hissed at Lionel, “The chaos you’ve just brought to our streets?” Bradford argued, “How many dead boys in red hoodies is it going to take for you to call off your witch hunt?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mayor,” Lionel patted Sackett on the back, “Thor started wearing armour, he doesn’t parade around in a hoodie anymore.” He smiled before speaking into the microphone again.

“It’s time to take back our city.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

UNKNOWN

_{The Black (Uncharted Space) - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{Two Years Ago}

<Transmission of Interest, ‘Queue: KR36’>

<Crosschecking databases>

<Match Located>

<Connection Established ‘Queue: Xandarian Worldmind’>

<Uploading>

<’KR36’ is a security code that identifies a Kryptonian>

<Data Inconclusive>

<Statement: No Kryptonians exist in the known galaxy>

<Correction: No Kryptonians exist in the Andromeda Galaxy.>

<Query: Where did the Kryptonian come from?>

<Status: Discovery Mode Active>

<Execute Probe Deployment>

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

Wind whipped his scarf about roughly in the stillness of the cool, dark night. The subtle hum of the alien hoverbike between his knees was the only thing close to a source of warmth above the rolling waves of the Atlantic as the alien craft skimmed above the white caps towards the large cargo ship.

It would have almost been fun, had Kyle Abbot not been on the job.

Edge had tipped off Intergang to the location of the Excelsior hours ago, and with Metropolis’ so-called hero tied up elsewhere, Dame Moxie ordered her agents of the Dark Faith to strike. The Excelsior lay moored outside the city’s limits, hidden in the shadow of Hell’s Gate. Luthor had practically giftwrapped the vessel for them by having it anchored hidden out behind the crime-ridden borough.

Killing the engines, the hoverbikes glided to a stop silently before each member of Intergang activated their climbing gear and effortlessly scaled the hull. No sooner had their feet silently hit the deck then the subtle hum of drawn weapons could be heard amplified by the miles of open water.

Lights illuminated the deck, armed crew members raising their conventional weapons and opening fire. But the bullets bounced harmlessly against a rapidly deployed Shi’ar field deployable forcefield. Raising their own weapons, Intergang returned fire, the Kree Distingrators making short work of the Luthorcorp employees, leaving nothing but a couple piles of dust behind. The crew barely had time to realize what had happened before they were gone in a flurry of red energy bolts.

Their ashes were quickly swept out to sea by the night breeze.

“I’d love to see what these would do to that punk in the hoodie.”

“Shut up and be thankful we have no interruptions tonight.” Dame Moxie snapped as she surveyed her crew. “A’Daire and Manheim, secure the lower decks, take whomever you need.” Without a sound, Whisper and Bruno departed, signalling for two others to flank them as they headed forward.

“Abbot!” Moxie roared, “Search the crates, Edge said that AmerTek was transporting a weapon made of a unique alloy. If that weapon is what I think it is, then there’s a far greater prize at stake. Take Donovan, and don’t stop looking until you’ve searched down to every rivet on this vessel.”

Abbot nodded his head, drawing a Ungaran sequencer and began walking the deck. Donovan trailed behind him, a twitchy hand still nervously held over his weapon.

“How do we know the kid in the hoodie won’t show up?”

“We don’t, but this isn’t his stomping grounds. Edge insured Luthor kept the Excelsior on this side of the city for a reason.”

“Awful lot of trust in Luthor.”

“I’d be more worried about Edge,” Abbot replied, “Especially if he realizes we’re not actually after a weapon.”

“Heh,” chuckled Donovan, “Glory to the First, brother,”

“Glory to the First.” Abbot replied, walking between another row of crates before suddenly the Ungaran sequencer began to light up. “I've got P.L.O.T. energy signals on this crate. According to the readout there’s a high concentration of chronically charged trans-dimensional radiation.” He stated, motioning for Donovan to grab the other edge and help him pry it open.

“Plot?” The other man asked with a strained grunt.

“Phased Levels of Oscillating Temporal Energy,” Kyle replied, matter-of-factly, “It’s a signature that denotes objects or beings of anachronistic or extradimensional origin.” The creaking of nails being dragged out of wood echoed in the night as the lid atop the crate was pulled open.

“The variance in oscillation between the phases can determine whether the point of interest is chronologically displaced or dimensionally. Often however, it’s a combination of both.” He continued to explain, only stopping upon seeing the dumbfounded look on Donovan’s face.

The lid slid off with one last push between the two men, clattering onto the deck before they peered inside.

Inside the crate was a long handled weapon forged of a material that Kyle didn’t recognize. The strange metal pulsed a primordial energy, forged eons before life began on Earth. The handle ended in a curve and was topped with a two sided head. One side was adorned with a decorated axe blade, large and curved while the other side was bulbous and ridged, shaped like a maul. Runes not unlike Elder Futhark ran down the head of the weapon spelling out the name ‘Járnbjörn’.

“Quite the weapon, but I think I’d rather stick to firearms.” Donovan snickered as Kyle shook his head.

“You wouldn’t be able to wield it anyways,” Abbot smiled smugly, “That weapon would find you unworthy. It’s not a blunt instrument that can be wielded by anyone. In those unworthy, it curses them and drives the wielder to insatiable blood lust.” Kyle hovered a hand above it, the temptation to grab the handle and swing the axe nearly overwhelming.

Whispers seemed to crawl into his ears, urging him to give him. Words of strength, triumph, wealth and desire threatened to lull him to submission. He closed his hand, pulling it back quickly, his head silencing again.

“This is the weapon of the Immortal.” Abbot muttered, “Only he should wield it.”

“Then why are we looking at it?”

“Because, it is what’s beneath the axe we’re after.” Kyle explained, carefully pulling away the packing beneath the axe to reveal a book shaped object encased in a stone cover.

“Fellow brother of the Dark Faith, I present to you, the First’s copy of the Crime Bible.”

“Why would AmerTek have any of this?”

“They didn’t know what they had,” Abbot smiled, pulling the book from the packaging and holding it in his hands. He traced the cover, his middle finger gingerly touching a slit in the center of the book. It was heavy in his hands, nearly weighing thirty pounds by Kyle’s estimate.

“Dame Moxie, we have the High Madame’s Binding and the axe.” Abbot reported, tapping the communicator fixed behind his ear.

“Then we’re one step closer,” Moxie replied, “Load the rest of the crates and scuttle the ship.”

“How are we only one step closer?” Donovan asked as he helped Abbot replace the lid on the crate. Abbot looked at him with a smile, his reply sending a chill down Donovan’s spine.

“Until we can unlock the cover of stone and complete the five lessons of blood, only then will The First be freed.”

KNOWHERE

_{Edge of Galactic Rim - Andromeda Galaxy}
^{Two Years Ago}

“A Kryptonian?”

The speaker sat atop a throne, while the Nova Corps member delivered his report of the strange man at the gate. It wasn’t an alien name that Tanaleer Tivan was familiar with, and that made him want the stranger all the more.

“Hmm, yes, I must have him. You were right to bring him to me,” Tanaleer stated excitedly, “Put a bounty out. All channels, I want him alive, preferably in perfect condition.”

“What if the Main Man brings the Bastiche back, say mostly alive?” A large figure asked, stepping out of the shadows. A cigar hung loosely between a pair of black lips surrounded by a beard still matted with dried blood. Tanaleer cocked his head to the side thoughtfully before responding mirthfully.

“We can make due with mostly being alive.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^{Ten Years Ago}

“Clark, go long,”

Ryan whispered, knowing only his brother could hear him. At the snap, Clark launched from the scrimmage line. They were down by only a few points, and a single touchdown could win them the game against Metropolis.

There was no doubt in Clark’s mind that they could win; he was faster than every other player on the field, and it wasn’t even a fair contest. It had been a long point of contention for their father whether Clark could even play ethically.

There would always be that push to run a little faster, hit just a little harder.

Ryan was always there to cover for Clark, though, not to say there hadn’t been a few close calls. It was hard for Clark to remember to fall when he was hit, often allowing someone to just bounce off of him, catching a few wayward states. There were even times when Clark had to quickly dose himself with a water bottle to hide the fact that he hadn’t broken a sweat all game.

Pushing through the Metropolis players, Clark broke free of the line of scrimmage, easily outpacing his pursuers while waiting for the Ryan’s ‘Hail Mary’ throw. A low whistle caught his keen ears as Ryan let out the subtle sound before the spiralling of the football drowned it out.

Without even looking, Clark tracked the ball’s trajectory, turning at the last moment before jumping into the air, taking care not to defy gravity completely. Cradling the ball against his chest, Clark allowed himself to fall back to Earth, effortlessly gliding into the end zone.

“The Kent boys have done it again!” The announcer roared over the ecstatic crowd. “The Crows overtaking the Tigers as the clock strikes zero!”

From centerfield, Ryan watched as the Crows’ cheerleaders exploded, his girlfriend and head cheerleader, Lana Lang, leading the squad in celebration all while never breaking eye contact with him. From the end zone, Clark hooted happily before running to center field as the brothers high-fived excitedly.

There were days it was very easy to resent Clark and everything he could do. But in this moment, Ryan had everything he could have ever wanted. A championship before graduation, Clark and him as equals, Lana Lang on his arm.

Yeah.

His life was pretty much perfect.

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^{Nine Years Ago}

The football twirled through the air, landing in the hands of Whitney Fordman before the blonde young man hurled it towards Ryan Kent. Flashing a grin beneath a tousled mop of sandy rust-tinged hair, the younger man turned and sent the ball flying towards Pete Ross.

It felt good to be out here tossing around the pigskin with familiar faces. The championship felt like a lifetime of shovelling manure away. Watching all of his friends up and leave Smallville to chase education and careers elsewhere, with Ryan feeling completely left behind. His parents last lifeline to keep the farm going with the unspoken acknowledgement that Clark was destined for greater things.

The quad was alive with new and returning students alike as the three friends passed the ball between themselves. In Smallville, they had been a couple of big fish in a small pond, but here, in Metropolis, they were basically pond scum.

Rednecks from less than nowhere in the middle of the nowhere that was Kansas.

Ryan already knew his parents couldn’t afford to send him to Metropolis University, with Clark already attending, they were barely keeping ahead at the farm. But when Chloe and Pete offered for Ryan to tag along and see the campus for the weekend, he couldn’t turn them down.

The trio had set out on a road trip, piling into Pete’s van, his girlfriend Lana and former teammate Whitney in tow as they headed cross-country. Delaware itself was a long way from Kansas, both geographically and culturally. Metropolis was the glistening crown jewel of the East Coast, a city sitting on the precipice of utopia. Crime rates were nearly nonexistent even before a hooded hero took it to be his primary mission to eliminate what little crime did happen here.

The golden globe atop the Daily Planet glistened in the sunlight, illuminated like a beacon signalling all was right amidst the ivory towers and art deco-inspired skyscrapers that adorned much of the Big Apricot’s skyline. The only building that dared cast a shadow over the Planet was the twin towers of Luthorcorp, the tallest skyscrapers in Metropolis. Luthorcorp Plaza sat next to the Daily Planet, and if the Planet’s globe was the beacon, then the pair of L-shaped buildings were the harbingers.

Originally a pesticide company, Luthorcorp was able to rapidly expand in record time, growing into all fields of agriculture before moving to genetic tailoring and eventually bioengineering. Everyone in Metropolis knew the story of Lionel Luthor, born in Suicide Slum with nary a penny to his name until an unfortunate accident left him in possession of his parents’ life insurance. Lionel was able to take that small sum and turn it into a fortune that supplied crops that could not only grow, but also continually produce in even the harshest environments.

Luthorcorp products had kept Smallville going after the meteors destroyed most of the farm land, turning the Cream Corn Capital into the Meteor Rock Capital of America. Much to his begrudging parents' chagrin, if it hadn’t been for Luthorcorp, the Kent farm wouldn’t have been able to recover its crops and maintain its livestock.

That probably would have been the end of the Kents’ interactions with the Luthors had Clark and Lex not met.

The maniac with the Porsche.

That’s what their Dad always called Lex. The younger Luthor had been racing in the rain, likely to a late-night hookup, while Clark, being Clark, had decided to brood on Loeb Bridge. Between the rain, the setting sun and the speed Lex had been driving at, it was no surprise that he had hit Clark at eighty miles per hour before the pair plunged into the Elbow River.

No one but Clark knew the details of what happened next, but Ryan knew the gist was that his brother had pulled Lex from the car and both walked away unscathed. Though when it came to Clark, Ryan found that somewhat less impressive.

“Good catch, quarterback,” mocked Pete, snapping the absent-minded Ryan back to the present as the ball went past his outstretched hand before colliding with a freshly purchased iced coffee. The drink exploded onto the blouse of its own as Pete hurriedly ran up to the attractive woman, apologizing profusely.

“My bad for trusting the Crows’ season-winning quarterback to throw a ball,” Pete stated, flashing a million-dollar smile towards the woman, “Perhaps Clark was the real star all along.” He teased Ryan, turning his face back towards the raven-haired amazon in front of him, ignorant of the glare that had crossed Ryan’s face while the Kent’s biological son stared at the back of Pete’s head, suddenly wishing he had his brother’s heat vision.

When they were younger, Clark had been sickly and often needed Ryan to interject. As they grew, that dynamic changed. Clark developed in ways that none of them could have foreseen and became gifted far beyond any of the other so-called heroes flying around Earth. But Ryan often felt unnecessary, like he wasn’t supposed to be part of his brother’s life, nay, like he couldn’t be a part of his brother’s life anymore.

He couldn’t fly into space, and he couldn’t lift a tractor with one hand. It was a mystery to Ryan why Clark didn’t just stand a little taller sometimes; he could have had anything or anyone he wanted. How Clark didn’t end up with Lana was going to baffle Ryan forever, but he was grateful that his brother from the stars didn’t come to Earth to build a harem.

“Where are my manners? Let me get you some napkins,” Pete’s voice rang out as Ryan’s friend continued, handing the aforementioned napkins to the woman while she brushed herself off.

“My name is Pete, Pete Ross.” He added, riding the coattails of his mother’s position. There wasn’t a person in Smallville who hadn’t heard of Judge Ross. Unfortunately for Pete, they weren’t in Smallville.

“Sorry, you said that like it should mean something.” The woman replied, “Should it have?”

“Uh,” Pete stammered suddenly, rubbing the back of his head, “No, it’s just I wanted to make sure it was memorable.”

“Oh, the name not so much, hun,” The woman smirked, “But the blushing and the squirming, I’ll remember that.”

“C’mon, you’ve at least got to give me your name,”

“I ain’t gotta do anything, hun,” The woman smiled, a couple chuckles echoing around Pete from Whitney and Ryan.

“But I’ll take some pity on you, Nat Irons,” The woman said, folding her arms over her chest, “And yes, that is Irons as in AmerTek Industries’ Henry Irons.”

“Did she say AmerTek?” Whitney suddenly asked from beside Ryan, “My Dad’s been obsessed with their guns since his time as a Marine. Keeps a copy of Henry Iron’s biography on his desk ‘Man of Steel’,”

“Aren’t they our current defense contractor?”

“They are, and my Daddy’d probably sign that for you,” Nat called to Ryan and Whitney, “I got ears, I ain’t deaf.”

“This guy’ll be here playing for the Sharks,” Ryan said, patting Whitney around the shoulders, “I don’t think Metropolis is in my future.”

“Shame, wouldn’t mind seeing a tall drink of water like you around again,” Nat replied, “Whatever they feed them in K-state, it does well.” She smiled before turning to Pete, “‘Cept you, you’s still a growing boy, ya gotta eat.” Nat winked, “Have a good day, Pete Ross.”

“You boys making friends?”

The familiar voice made Ryan jump as Chloe and Lana joined the three males just while they were watching Pete pick his jaw back up off the floor.

“I think I’m in love.”

“‘Course you are, Pete, ‘course you are,” Ryan replied, patting him on the back before planting a playful kiss on Lana.

“How’d your tour go?”

“It was good, Chloe has quite the salespitch, but I think I’d rather stay closer to home., Her friend Lori did, however, invite us all out for dinner.” Lana replied, “She’s apparently taken quite the shine to Clark, I think you’ll like her.”

“Well then I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Lionel, you're a hard man to get a hold of.”

The voice boomed across the large office as a well-built figure in a finely tailored maroon suit pulled open both glass doors, striding into the office with the authority and pomp that one might possess if they owned the building. Once dark hair stained with silver was cut into a tidy fade with a well-coiffed quiff, while a meticulously maintained moustache adorned his upper lip.

“Morgan,” Lionel answered, not bothering to look up from the laptop in front of him. “To what do I owe the displeasure of this visit? With the media circus already circling for blood in the water, you’re certainly not doing me any favours darkening my door.”

The head of Luthorcorp’s response elicited a throaty chuckle from Morgan Edge as he continued towards Lionel’s desk. He paused, an odd looking knife, seemingly made out of welded scrap metal and adorned green crystalline rock through its hilt, sat on a nearby shelf catching his attention before he turned to respond.

“Perhaps not, but we both know they won't be able to tie us to any illicit activities, let alone together.”

Lionel stood, closing his laptop slowly before making his way over to the nearby bar.

“Indeed, but I assume this visit is more than a show of bravado?” He smiled, pouring two glasses from a nearby decanter. “I procured this on my latest visit to Japan. Surprisingly good whisky.”

“Grown on Luthorcorp fields no doubt.” Edge nodded with a smile.

“Yes, and artificially aged using our latest in bio-engineering. Even the finest sommelier couldn't tell the difference between this and a fifty-year-old Scotch.”

“Most impressive, Lionel,” Edge saluted, taking a sip, swirling the drink around in his mouth while sniffing the glass. The rich, smokey and woody aroma was only matched by the taste. Lionel was right, it was impossible to tell the difference.

“If you had told me nearly forty years ago, you were going to make artificially aged whisky, I would have called you a loon and suggested they toss you in Arkham.” Edge smiled, “But you’ve come up with quite the lucrative business all things considered, a great man renowned world wide. Kings will come to your funeral.” The moustached man allowed himself a small laugh.

“You should have gone for Senator, not Mayor of Metropolis.”

“Maybe I’ll aim higher when I retire. Luthorcorp is still growing and I have much to prepare before my heir can assume his reign.”

“The cameras love Lex, the populace love him. He’s a smart lad, and the work he’s doing with Sentinel-One and Project Hope,” Morgan kissed his fingers, “Top notch if I do say so myself.”

“His time in Smallville proved most fortuitous,” Lionel replied, “It wasn’t without its storms, but Lex came out the other side a man with a glorious burden.”

“It’s funny you should say that,” Edge chuckled darkly, sitting down and kicking his feet up. “Metropolis has been going through some remarkably stormy weather lately, but I believe clearer days are ahead.” He took a long sip of his drink before looking directly at Lionel.

“Does Ugly still work for you?”

“Hmm, yes, I do believe so.” Lionel replied, “He’s been working out very well, he’s in charge of receiving our at Cadmus Labs on the South Docks. Expecting a shipment tonight from AmerTek marked for Infinity Incorporated.”

“Odd, I could have sworn there wasn't anything on the docket,” Morgan remarked, taking a long and intentional sip of his whisky.

Scratching his tidy beard, Lionel replied thoughtfully.

“Now that you mention it, with everything that's been happening on Metropolis, the ship was just reported lost. It must have slipped my mind, we’re all quite devastated afterall.”

“Shame,” Edge answered with a subtle smirk. “Thank you for the drink Lionel. That really is damn fine whisky. You have my support, Mr. Mayor.” Morgan stated, as he stood, walking towards the door while Lionel called out after him.

“Always a pleasure, Morgan.”