Lord Wraith

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

Manchester Black had a splitting headache.

He had awoken in Smallville General Hospital, the last thing he remembered was the alien standing over him before a finger had touched his forehead. After that, darkness and a dull thumping in the front lobe of his skull.

With a groan, Agent Black sat up in his bed.

Too fast.

He groaned inwardly as the room began to spin, tucking his head between his knees for a brief second until it stopped. What sort of power did the alien hold that a single touch was enough to render a grown man unconscious?

“Sir,” A voice at the door interrupted Manchester’s wallowing as he raised his head, squinting as the light from the hallway seared into his eyes.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Couple o’Aspirin and a Carling if you got it, luv,”

“I’ll ask the doctor about something for the pain,” The nurse replied with a weak smile, “You’re on your own for the drink I’m afraid.” Ducking out the doorway, Black heard voices in the hallway as the nurse stopped to talk with another woman.

“Sheriff? He’s awake now if you still have questions.”

“Ah, good, I was beginning to think Billy Idol was in there, going to sleep a whole fortnight.” A familiar voice rang out before her figure appeared in the doorway of the small hospital room.

“Ah, Agent, you’re awake.” Sheriff Nancy smiled, “Crumbled you like a dried leaf, didn’t he?”

“Try not to take so much joy in my pain, bird.”

“T’would seem the big lad flew off to Metropolis,” The Sheriff nodded towards the television set in the corner of the room. Her lips smacking together as she obnoxiously chewed on a piece of gum like an old heifer with its cud.

“Big black and red blur came in outta nowhere then took off with the other alien. Made real short work of the biker from hell. Damn thing near looked like Ozzy had a baby with Jason Momoa, and don’t get me wrong, I love me some Momoa. Khal Drogo and me, whew, let’s just say I got my money’s worth outta HBO.”

“Sheriff,” Black rubbed his temples furiously, while opening and closing his eyes, “Mate, I am begging you to stop.”

“Anyways, I guess you’ll be leaving Smallville.” The Sheriff smiled, “Big shot and all that, little town ain’t of any interest now that we don’t have an alien here.”

“Sorry, luv, but I’m afraid that my orders-” Black was suddenly interrupted as his watch began to beep.

“Director?” Black asked, activating his earpiece.

“I need you in Metropolis for clean up. Damage Control is already moving in, and we can’t have them interfering with our scene. I need to know everything we can about the two aliens. Make yourself available for transmission and let me know when we can transmit you from Smallville to Metropolis.”

“Will do, Sir.” Black nodded, ending the call before his eyes were drawn back to the television as it replayed the scene from earlier again. A small smirk formed on his face as he watched the scene unfold before the alien known as the Blur intervened, taking the other alien to who knows where.

The people, no doubt, were expecting the so-called ‘Heroes of New York’ to unite again to save the day. But as far as S.W.O.R.D. was concerned, the group was scattered. A new player, however, was certainly liable to generate chatter. Especially one moving faster than the human eye. There had only been rumours of one other such being in the American Midwest, but unfortunately, they fell outside of S.W.O.R.D.'s jurisdiction.

It struck the agent as odd that the alien, despite his human appearance, would care enough to control the field of battle and remove Lobo from the scene. Odder still, neither had been seen since their removal from Metropolis’ Planet Square. Though it had only been a couple of hours, Black had no way of predicting where the alien would appear next or what he would want.

“Y’know, his first words were ‘I am Kal-El of Krypton’.” The Sheriff broke the silence, seemingly reading Black’s mind.

Ironic.

“He said something about by the orders of a General Zod we were to kneel before him,” Nancy added, turning to look at Black, “I may not like you fed, but I know you’re doing what you can to keep us from ‘kneeling’ so if you need anything else-”

“Won’t be necessary, Sheriff,” Black smiled, “I’m needed in Metropolis.”

“Well, lookit me over here just blabbering like a cicada in June.” The Sheriff smiled, “Pleasure having you here, Agent, don’t let it hit ya where the good Lord split ya.”

Black wryly nodded his adieu, grabbing his coat off a nearby hanger before walking out of the hospital. Tapping his watch as he moved into the middle of the parking lot. He stopped, waiting for transmission before suddenly vanishing in a blinding flash of cerulean.

Transmission was always disorientating. He felt his stomach lurch as he arrived in Metropolis. Taking a moment to regain his bearings, Black surveyed the scene, immediately noticing the black SUVs belonging to Damage Control. To his surprise, Agent Coulson was nowhere to be seen; instead, another familiar face was leading the charge. Standing in the middle of Planet Square, arguing with Luthorcorp officials was Agent Sitwell.

“Jasper, mate, you can’t be here.” Black started, stepping over the yellow tape as he confronted the other agent. “They both fell from the sky, that’s got S.W.O.R.D. written all over it.”

“It would have, if Luthor’s secret police hadn’t gotten involved. The minute his registered super and hit squad rode in on their high horses, this became Damage Control’s issue.”

“That’s fine, you can have Luthor. I don’t want to deal with that smug bastard anyway.”

“I’ll flip you for it,”

“Nah, mate,” Black smiled, “This one’s on the house, I just want to know where the aliens went.”

“Can’t say I know for certain, but our guys are detecting residual P.L.O.T. energy in the region.”

“Are you saying the alien’s an anachronism?”

“At least one of them, else we have a third party in play here.” Sitwell replied, “‘Course you do realize if he’s an anachronism-”

“It’s an inter-departmental issue and the highest priority.” Black deadpanned, “Yeah mate, love that for us.” He replied, tapping his watch quickly before scanning the area. Sure enough, just as Sitwell had said, there were Phased Levels of Oscillating Temporal Energy present in the immediate area, though they were waning quickly. With another quick tap on his watch, Black opened a channel to S.W.O.R.D.

“Brother Eye, can you track this P.L.O.T. signature?”

“Analyzing. One moment, please.” The robotic voice replied before elevator music began to play over Black’s earpiece. He was suddenly reminded of his splitting headache.

“One match. Location: United States of America, Kansas, Smallville.” Brother Eye replied. “Do you wish to transmit?”

“I’m starting to feel like a bloody boomerang.”

“Agent, do you wish to transmit?”

“Get it over with.”

“I require an affirmative answer.”

“Yes! You damn bastard of a machine.”

“Transmission initiated.” And within seconds, Manchester Black found himself back where he had just come from.

“What no welcoming party?” Black muttered to himself.

“Shut the front door! Agent Black?”

Damnit.

Yet again, Manchester Black had a splitting headache.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

UNKNOWN

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

<Query: Warworld>

<Reply: A Despot-lead infernal machine. Warworld is a planet sized weapon that is nearly as old as us. It has been less than functional for several millennia and will continue to be so as the technologies to repair it don’t exist outside of the B.R.A.I.N. Inter-Active Collective.>

<Status: Satisfactory>

<Query: Why would the Kryptonian willing risk his life for a lifeform of another species? It is unlike all documented Kryptonian behaviour. >

<Reply: Based on our trajectory, this Kryptonian was raised in a distant galaxy. He was not raised Kryptonian, he was raised by another race.>

<Statement: Curious, a Kryptonian with alien values.>

<Statement: Curiouser still, the Krypotonian appears to have a full array of racial attributes despite the tampering of the star Rao. Observation suggests his abilities to be in line with ancestral traits.>

<Conclusion: Genetic tampering.>

<Analysis: The Kryptonian would be a threat were he to mate. Dominant DNA would lead to a new race of Kryptonians. It would affect the balance of the Galaxy.>

<Observation: The Almeracian Queen has shown sexual interest in the Kryptonian.>

<Analysis: The Almeracian people are in the midst of an aggressive expansion. Though it would take several decades to measure the true effects of a Kryptonian/Almeracian hybrid, early analysis suggests it would be catastrophic to Hyborian Systems and its neighbours.>

<Conclusion: Almerac must be catalogued. Prepare a ship.>

<Statement: Launch sequence initiated.>

WARWORLD

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

“I will not fight you, your highness.”

Clark dodged another blow from the large sword wielded by the Queen of Almerac as she advanced upon him. A construct of pure psychic energy, the blade wasn’t like anything Clark had ever encountered before. Leaping over the reclined divan, she shed her fur cloak, revealing her mail-like garb beneath that left nothing to the bashful farmboy’s imagination as he tried to keep distance between them.

“I don’t recall giving you a choice,” The redheaded warrior retorted, cutting Clark’s nearest route of escape off, the psychic sword cleaving a large laceration into the floor. He pivoted at the last second, his cheeks flush as he clumsily dodged each subsequent blow, averting his eyes out of respect for the woman’s dignity.

“You will not leave these quarters without giving me the fight I deserve.”

“I have no desire to fight you,” Clark protested, catching the Queen’s arm by the elbow. Her strength was formidable, but it was her other abilities that made her more of a threat.

“Who knew such strength also possessed such meekness, truly you are a rare specimen.” The woman practically purred. Normally, she would have been repulsed by the reluctance to fight, but she had seen the Terran man tear through some of Mongul’s best, and even Mongul the Third had proven incapable of stopping this ‘Clark’s rise through the ranks of Warworld’s blood thirstiest.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Clark retorted, catching the woman’s weapon between his hands. The psychic construct pulsed in his palms, penetrating his defences. Clark winced as it began to cut into him, before snapping the construct in half, the weapon shattering like glass.

A smile crossed the woman’s red lips.

“I am Queen Maxima of House Red, Sonja of Almerac, Protector of the Throne of Hyrkania, Radiant Mistress of the Hyborian Systems, She-Devil of the Winter Constellations and with you by my side, the Mother of Conquerers.”

Clark froze at her words.

“Perhaps I was too forward,” Maxima teased, approaching Clark before tracing his chest with her finger. Circling around behind him, she touched his shoulders, rubbing his neck and inhaling his scent.

“Should you best me, I am yours to lay with and my heirs would be strengthened for it. It is tradition on my world for the Sonja; the Queen, to seek a mate stronger than her to strengthen the entire bloodline. From what I have seen, you are the strongest man in the galaxy.” Maxima smiled, “And as the Queen of Almerac, I require the strongest mate.”

“Look, I’m flattered your highness, but I need to politely decl-”

“Defend yourself!” Maxima cried, re-engaging Clark as a pair of psychic daggers appeared in her hands. She spun through the air, the constructs swirling around her telekinetically before unleashing a barrage. Dashing across his temporary quarters, Clark quickly fired his heat vision, deflecting several of the weapons before moving out of the way of the rest.

Every strike Maxima made, Clark moved to deflect or avoid. He had no interest in harming the woman. Redirecting another blow, Clark spun Maxima around, before releasing her across the room as though they were involved in some deadly tango.

But the longer they danced around the room, the heavier the air filled with the Almeracian Queen’s pheromones. Clark could feel himself become flushed, his blood racing, his heart pounding. He was barely restraining his heat vision at this point, the overwhelming flow of hormones putting every part of him on edge and at attention.

She moved in closer to him, Clark wrapping his arms around Maxima to restrain her. Their faces moved closer, her lips brushing against his before suddenly she bit down on his lower lip. A mixed sensation of pain and pleasure flooded Clark’s body as he fought against the urge to simply give into his baser feelings. Maxima pulled back, releasing another of the pink energy blades. It flew true, slicing against Clark’s shoulder and through his robe.

She spun around in a half circle, another blade released from her palm. Like the first, it too found its target as Clark found himself shirtless. Maxima rushed towards him, flying into the air as her legs wrapped around his bare torso. Clark could feel her legs squeezing as she moved to topple him but he stood firm. Her nails dragged down his back as she pushed harder and harder against him until finally, Clark had enough.

Pushing an arm in between himself and the warrior Queen, Clark brushed Maxima off with little effort, sending the woman into the air. With a burst of super speed, he intercepted her before she could recover and sent her directly into the hard, metal floors of Warworld.

“Stay down, your highness.”

“You-” Maxima panted, beads of sweat dotting her brow as her bosom heaved to regain her breath, “You have bested me. I am yours, claim your prize.” She moaned, spreading her legs as Clark released the woman and moved back, picking up Maxima’s discarded cloak and tossing it over her.

“I’m sorry, your highness, but I’m not going to do that.”

“No,” Maxima protested, propping herself up onto her elbows. “No man resists a Queen of Almerac.”

“Guess, I’m just not like most men.” Clark replied weakly with a small smile. “If you wouldn’t mind,” He motioned to the door. “I’m pretty exhausted.”

“But I-” Maxima looked from the door to Clark again, confusion crossing her face. “You have to, you won.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s just not how we do it where I’m from.” Clark stretched out a hand to help Maxima to her feet. “In fact, it’s considered downright criminal.”

Maxima said nothing. She had never felt shame or rejection before and wasn’t fond of either experience. Instead, she found herself experiencing a new kind of longing as she looked at Clark again.

“And how do you find a mate on your world?”

“Generally,” Clark started, taking a seat on his bed. “A guy asks a girl out for dinner and a movie, y’know a chance to get to know each other and find common ground.”

“Fascinating, so they don’t fight until the male bests the female?”

“Ideally,” Clark replied with a smile, “We call it dating and if that goes well, they get married.”

“And how do we start dating?”

“One of us would have to ask the other out.” Clark answered slightly amused by the turn in events.

“It does not have to be the woman or the man? Both can equally ask this?”

“I like to think so, traditionally it was the man, but I think Earth has come a long way on this.”

“Clark of Earth,” Maxima stated, “Would you share a meal with me?”

Clark faltered for a second. His heart panged for home, for the familiarity of the world he knew, the customs he was raised with. His trip to space hadn’t turned out at all how he thought it would, and he had already been gone far too long.

But perhaps this was his life now.

He looked up at Maxima, his blue eyes smiling as he spoke.

“It’s a date.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

JUPITER

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

The droning sound of the klaxon stirred Rocket from his state of unconsciousness. His vision blurred as he tried to stand, the metallic smell of his own blood drowning his olfactory sense and leaving him nearly nose blind to the fire several feet away from him.

Every bone in his body felt like it had been fractured. He remembered their first encounter with Lobo, and how lucky he had been to survive it. Their saving grace this time being that Clark wasn’t onboard. They had been a casualty, just a preventative measure to ensure they couldn’t interfere.

Judging by the state of the ship, Lobo had succeeded.

Cracked screens flashed through numerous red warnings as the nearby planet continued to draw T.I.T.S. into its gravitational pull.

“Shields offline, weapons offline, thrusters offline. Life support is failing, structural stability is down to twelve percent, does anyone have anything positive they want to say right now?”

“I am Groot.”

“I love you too, buddy,” Rocket snapped at Groot, “But I was more hoping for some hidden talent or ingenious engineering before we’re swallowed by the swirling storm that looks like a Bolovaxian’s scruthole.”

“Rocky!” Lylla’s voice suddenly echoed from the main cockpit, “Captain’s hurt pretty bad.”

“Cap’n!” Rocket cried, a groan whistling through his teeth as every muscle in his body protested against movement.

“Groot, where’s Max?”

“IamGroot.” Came the saddened reply.

“He threw her out the airlock?” Rocket exclaimed, his eyes moving to the nearest porthole, as he stared in horror out into the Black. “Damn, I know she’s a tough lady, but still, that’s not frakkin’ good.”

“Rocky!”

Lylla’s cry was accompanied by a chorus of beeping, the groaning of metal echoing through the ship’s corridors. The ship had entered the nearby Jupiter’s gravitation pull and it was quickly becoming apparent they were going to crash.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Rocket muttered, urging his cybernetics to respond as he pulled himself towards the cockpit.

“We’re going to crash if you don’t do something,” Lylla urged.

“Only if we don’t frakkin’ burn up first,” The Raccoon-like alien muttered while pulling a panel open. Pressing the nearby intercom, Rocket shouted into it.

“I need to reroute power from the core to all impulse thrusters, J’ak, you still kicking?”

“I wish I wasn’t,” Came a groggy reply, “Tigorr and I are both down here, though he took the brunt of the beating.”

“We’re still in a bit of a frakked up situation. Can you cycle the coils, and open all manifolds?”

“Aye,” J’ak replied, “I think I can manage that.”

The navigation console suddenly illuminated in a shade that wasn’t red. Lylla scrambled to the controls before selecting the impulse thrusters and throwing the lever to max. The ship shuttered and protested, slowly trying to reverse course.

“We don’t have enough power!”

“I’m given’ her all she’s got!”

A loud thud on the hull rocked the whole ship. Suddenly it began to move out of the Jupiter’s orbit and slowly drift back into space. Pulling himself to his feet, Rocket looked to the viewscreen, coming up empty before going analog.

“Max!”

Rocket exclaimed looking out the porthole to see the warrior queen helping push the ship free of Jupiter’s pull.

“I thought you were dead,”

“Fear not, my little friend, it takes more than the black of space to kill a Queen of Almerac.”

“Frakkin’ right.” Rocket celebrated, going to the airlock to allow Maxima back inside the ship. She entered, leaning slightly on the door frame before speaking.

“Now, let us go find my Clark.”

EARTH

_{Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy}
^Now

Lex swung his fist, connecting with the alien through Hope. On the streets below the Luthorcorp towers, Hope moved as Lex instructed, his experts continuously analyzing the alien’s fighting pattern while Lex adapted to it.

The alien smiled as Hope began to dodge more and more of his blows, anticipating his weapons and clearing her reinforcements. With some breathing room, Lex activated Hope’s repair protocols, the nanites quickly repairing any fractures while sealing her synthetic skin to hide the cybernetics within.

Keeping up the ranged attacks, Hope fired blast after blast from her palm. The energy was enough to stagger the alien bounty hunter, but any lasting impact was immeasurable. He simply seemed to shrug off each blow, relishing the fight the longer it went on.

“Oh, I see you for what you are little puppet,” The alien taunted, “The Main Man is coming to rip your innards out and then I’m coming for your master.”

Warning lights lit up in Lex’s headsup display as the space bike suddenly flaked Hope. Paladins moved to intervene, only for the bike to unleash a pulse attack that crippled the suits the Paladins wore. A burning pain seared into Lex’s head as Hope was caught in the energy attacks, his neural interface threatening to overload as it began to overheat from the stress.

It was a moment of hesitation that gave the alien the only window he needed. All too quickly he was on top of Hope again, delivering a blow that immediately put one leg offline. Hope screamed in agony as Lex fought to remain in control. Retreat protocols were quickly cancelled by his team, as Lobo wrapped a hand around the android’s neck.

“You’re next, humie.” The alien taunted, staring into Hope’s eyes so that Lex knew the bounty hunter meant him.

But Lex Luthor did not surrender.

Hope pulled back another desperate punch. From his remote command center, Lex swung with all his might, feeling the haptic feedback of Hope’s fist connecting. He winced as the overwhelming feedback caused his arm to ache. But the hit had finally counted, even if Hope’s arm had completely shattered.

Lex watched smugly as Lobo was sent flying.

“Sir, that wasn’t you,”

The citizens of Metropolis watched as the fight continued to unfold, once again disappointed that their elected protector was losing while the one they had come to depend on was nowhere in sight. No doubt driven out of town by Lionel Luthor and his pitchforks and torches.

Sunny skies shone down over the blood bath below, and emergency services did what they could to keep people from the carnage while extracting the Paladins who were still alive. The alien’s threats became more and more real with each second, and as Hope’s leg was shattered, there was a sudden push to evacuate Metropolis.

But then thunder echoed over the city.

Only lightning didn’t follow. The clear skies echoed the thunderous boom of something breaking the sound barrier again. Hope rallied one last time, pulling a fist back to hit Lobo with all her might, but this time she wasn’t alone.

Through the streets of Metropolis, a blur of black raced through the once familiar routes, now forgotten to the Kryptonian. He charged towards Lobo, stretching a fist out before connecting and carrying the Czarnian away from Hope, away from the downtown and into the sky.

Lex watched from his command center as a blur of black raced past the screen. Lobo was hit again, and then again, as something moving faster than the human eye struck him repeatedly.

The Blur had returned to Metropolis.

“You were looking for me?” Kal-El asked, suspending Lobo by the throat miles above the city outskirts.

“Kryptonian, you’re looking better than I left you,” garbled Lobo with a laugh. Heavy boots curled up, connecting with Kal’s chest.

“It won’t last long.” Lobo boasted, breaking free before whistling as the space hog caught its rider. The engine roared, as Lobo drifted the bike through the air, pointing it back towards the city as he gunned it towards Metropolis.

Kal-El flew upwards, arcing backwards before plummeting straight down as his feet connected with the space hog and sent it into a nose-dive. Launching off the forward forks, his hand wrapped around Lobo’s lapels, dragging the Czarnian from the bike as it careened out of control.

His eyes began to glow red as the pair flew higher and higher, breaking the atmosphere while Lobo fought against the Kryptonian’s grip.

“Are you going to kill me, Lover Boy? Like I killed your keezy fem?”

Kal-El replied only with the most chilling smile that Lobo had ever seen as the other alien suddenly kicked Lobo out into the black, sending him head over heels in the weightlessness of space.

Reaching for his belt, Kal-El suddenly produced a crystalline crest and held it in his palm outstretched towards Lobo.

Kal-El, are you sure this is wise? That crystal holds but a single use.

“Death would be too sweet a release.” Kal-El replied to Lobo, ignoring Keelex’s warning, “Isolation would be punishment.”

“BASTICHE!” Lobo screamed, trying to propel himself away. But it was to no avail as the crystal released a mirror-like pulse. It enveloped the Czarnian, ripping him from the current dimension before he was compressed into the prism. It began to spin rapidly, disappearing into the distance before crossing the threshold between planes.

“The Phantom Zone will hold you.”

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.

“?”