Chapter 35: Evening the Odds
Lex Luthor stepped through the shimmering breach in the Fortress of Solitude’s outer crystal walls, the stolen Kryptonian access codes still flickering across his gauntlet display.
The air inside was bitterly cold, sterile, and humming with that infuriating alien technology that always made his skin crawl. He adjusted his armored exosuit, the one lined with enough red sun emitters to make even the strongest Kryptonian feel mortal, and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
The diversion had worked perfectly. Kidnapping Lois Lane for what had to be the one-billionth time had pulled Superman halfway across the planet again, leaving this glacial tomb momentarily vulnerable.
Really, what is it with that man and his pet reporter? Does he enjoy reading glowing articles about himself that much? The sheer narcissism is almost impressive. And yet people call Lex prideful.
He moved deeper into the crystalline corridors, boots clicking sharply against the translucent floor. Security protocols fell one after another before his custom virus. Jor-El’s AI voice tried to issue warnings, but Lex had already isolated and muted it. Pathetic. All this power, all this potential, wasted on sentimental relics and moral lectures.
At the end of the main corridor, he found her.
The red sun cell glowed with a dull, oppressive crimson light. Inside stood Faora-Ul, tall, regal, and radiating barely contained violence even while weakened. She watched him approach with cold, calculating eyes, arms crossed over her armored chest. No fear. Only assessment.
“Faora-Ul,” Lex said, stopping just outside the cell’s energy barrier. “I’ve studied your file. General Zod’s most loyal. Imprisoned here by King and his Kryptonian girlfriend after you tried to remind this world of its proper place in the hierarchy. I respect that kind of conviction.”
“I know of you as well, Luthor.” Faora’s gaze narrowed. “Kal-El speaks of you. The human who believes himself superior to gods.”
“Superior to false gods,” Lex corrected smoothly. “There’s a difference. And tonight, I’m offering you a mutually beneficial arrangement. I set you free.”
That got her inetwrest.
“More still.” Lex continued. “I’ll arm you with weapons specifically designed to kill Kryptonians and Viltrumites alike—red sun emitters refined beyond anything you’ve seen, sonic disruptors tuned to their physiology, and a few other surprises. In return, you eliminate the ones who put you in this cage. King. Supergirl. And anyone else who stands with them.”
He tapped a command on his gauntlet. The red sun cell’s field flickered and died. Faora stepped forward slowly, testing her strength as the oppressive weight lifted from her body. Lex felt a flicker of genuine anticipation. This was what he had been building toward.
Faora flexed her hands, eyes glowing faintly. “And what prevents me from killing you the moment I am at full strength?”
“Nothing at all,” Lex replied, utterly calm.
That is, except for kryptonite he kept hidden on his person at all time.
“But you’re pragmatic enough to know I’m more useful alive.” Lex wisely said instead. “I can provide resources your Empire no longer has on this primitive world. And I suspect you want revenge more than you want another pointless conquest right now.”
He gestured, and a sleek metallic case rose from the floor on a hover platform.
Inside lay the arsenal—sleek bracers pulsing with red solar energy, a compact chest unit for sustained power nullification, and several crystalline grenades that would disrupt Kryptonian cellular integrity.
On top of it all rested a small, deceptively delicate amulet: Morgan le Fay’s contribution. The sorceress had been frustratingly stingy with her aid lately.
She claims it will dampen their more exotic abilities and protect against certain magical feedback. Useful, but far less than she could have provided. Everyone is hedging their bets these days. No matter.
He’s built an empire on people underestimating what he can do with limited resources.
Faora examined the weapons with professional interest, clipping the bracers onto her wrists. The amulet she studied longer before clasping it around her neck. “This magic… it carries the scent of betrayal.”
“Most magic does,” Lex said dryly. “Morgan wants King dead almost as much as I do. She simply lacks the spine to commit fully after her last few failures. Consider the charm insurance against any unexpected mystical nonsense he might throw at you.”
Faora straightened to her full height, power visibly returning to her frame. The air around her seemed to warp slightly. “King humiliated me. The girl—Kara—fought like a child playing at war. They will both learn what it means to face a true Kryptonian soldier.”
Lex allowed his smile to sharpen. “Excellent. I’ll provide real-time tactical data once you engage. Destroy MetaWorks leadership. Make it public. Make it hurt. When you’re done, we can discuss a more permanent alliance. This planet needs order, not subscription-based heroism or alien boy scouts.”
He watched her test her flight, hovering a few inches off the crystal floor. She moved with lethal grace, every motion promising violence. Perfect. Superman was distracted. King’s precious company was still reeling from the previous night’s assault. The board was finally set exactly the way he wanted it.
One last loose end nagged at the back of his mind—King’s unusual durability and strength. The man hid it well, but the data didn’t lie. Viltrumite. Or something close. It would explain why kryptonite hadn’t worked on him in the past.
That made the weapons and Morgan’s charm even more critical.
Faora turned toward the exit, already scanning the Fortress systems for the quickest route out. “This changes nothing about my loyalty to the Empire. But for now… your enemies will die screaming.”
Lex watched her launch upward through the crystalline ceiling, shattering a section of it in a spray of glittering shards as she burst into the night sky.
He remained standing in the silent Fortress for a long moment, the cold seeping through his suit. Another piece moved. Another arrogant alien about to learn that humanity—specifically he—would not bow to gods.
A quiet notification chimed on his gauntlet. Superman had already rescued Lois. Of course he had.
Lex allowed himself a low chuckle as he activated his return teleport.
“Let the games begin.”
…
Kara stood near the front of the MetaWorks briefing room, arms crossed tightly over her chest as the last echoes of the previous night’s battle still lingered in the damaged building.
The team had gathered quickly—H.I.V.E. Five sprawled across chairs, Jason leaning against the wall with Ace perched on a console beside him, the Doom Patrol clustered together looking variously bored and agitated.
Luke stood at the head of the table in his full King armor, helmet on, that familiar calm command presence radiating from him even after everything they had been through.
“We are not waiting for Lex to hit us again,” he said. “We counterstrike first. Ideas?”
Gizmo immediately perked up from his floating platform. “I could leak his search history to every tabloid on the planet. The man has very specific interests in bald caps and 1980s power ballads.”
Ace giggled from where she sat cross-legged on the table. “Or I could plant a song in every Lexcorp employee’s head. Like, the same annoying jingle on repeat forever. No peace. No quiet. Just jingle jingle until they all quit.”
Jason offered a more tactical suggestion involving teleport strikes on LexCorp servers, while Cliff grumbled about using the elevator car again for dramatic effect. Kara listened to all of them, feeling the old familiar rush building in her chest. She may not have enjoyed terrorizing innocent people.
But she relished the hunt.
She stepped forward. “We should crush our enemies. See them drive before us. And hear the lamentations of their women.”
The room went quiet. Everyone turned to stare at her. Even Luke tilted his helmeted head slightly in that way he did when he was trying not to laugh.
Kara felt her cheeks warm slightly. “What? It is a classic battle strategy. Efficient, effective, and vastly entertaining.”
Before anyone could respond, Luke suddenly cocked his head. “Does anyone else hear that?”
Kara focused, sharpening her hearing.
There was something—a high, whistling sound growing rapidly louder, cutting through the air like a missile. Closer. Closer. Then the outer wall exploded inward in a shower of concrete and rebar.
Faora-Ul slammed into her at full speed.
The impact drove the breath from Kara’s lungs as they crashed through the next wall, then the one after that, debris exploding around them in a storm of dust and twisted metal.
Kara twisted mid-flight, grabbing Faora’s arms and shoving back with everything she had. They burst out of the building and into open sky above the city, locked together in a brutal grapple.
Faora’s face was inches from hers, eyes burning with cold fury. “Little warrior. Still playing house with these humans. Still pretending you belong here.”
Kara snarled and drove her knee into Faora’s midsection, sending them both spinning higher. “I knew we should have killed you when we had the chance. You never learn.”
“I could say the same for you. Traitor.”
Kara felt her blood burn hot. She wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline or pure, unbridled rage.
Luke was down there. His people were down there. Her people. This woman had already tried to hurt them once. Kara would not let her succeed again.
Faora laughed, a sharp, mocking sound, and activated the bracers on her wrists. Red sun energy washed over Kara in sickening waves, weakening her muscles. Worse were the Kryptonite-laced needles that shot from Faora’s gauntlets, piercing her shoulder and side.
Pain exploded through her body like fire in her veins. She gasped but refused to let go, instead channeling what strength she had left into a powerful uppercut that cracked Faora’s jaw and sent her reeling backward.
Below them, the city spread out in a glittering grid. Kara spotted one of MetaWorks’ communication satellites in low orbit. She gritted her teeth, ignored the burning agony in her veins, and flew upward in a sharp arc.
Heat-vision lanced from her eyes, striking the satellite’s solar arrays and redirecting a concentrated burst of focused sunlight straight down onto her. The golden beam slammed into the younger Kryptonian, giving Kara a precious second to breathe.
It barely helped. The Kryptonite was spreading, making her limbs feel heavy and her vision blur at the edges.
“You fight like a child who found her father’s sword,” Faora taunted, recovering and rocketing toward her again. “Brainiac’s daughter, yet you waste yourself on this sentimental weakness. Where is your loyalty to the Empire?”
Kara met her charge head-on, their collision shaking the air with a sonic boom. “My loyalty is to the people I choose. Not to cages or conquest.”
The charm around Faora’s neck suddenly flared with sickly green light. An unnatural wave of dizziness slammed into Kara, disrupting her flight path and making the world tilt violently. She spiraled, struggling to stay airborne as the magic interfered with her powers in ways red sun radiation never had.
A streak of platinum and silver shot up from the ruined side of MetaWorks HQ. King—Luke—matched her altitude in seconds, cape snapping behind him.
“Kara, the charm’s messing with your head,” he called out, voice steady even through the helmet’s modulator. “Try slingshotting her or something, while I—”
Kara’s literal mind latched onto the first clear instruction.
Slingshot.
Yes.
She grabbed Faora by the cape and arm, spun once, twice, building impossible momentum, then hurled her directly toward the satellite’s orbital shadow. The physics-defying throw sent Faora rocketing upward like a bullet, straight into the precise angle Luke had indirectly suggested.
The red sun bracers flickered and destabilized in the sudden shift from direct sunlight to shadow, giving Kara the opening she needed to blast her with another focused burst of heat vision.
Faora screamed in rage as she tumbled.
Luke stayed close to Kara, one armored hand briefly steadying her shoulder. Even in the middle of combat, the touch carried that quiet connection they shared—protective, grounding, warm beneath all the chaos.
She could feel how hard he was fighting the magical interference too; the charm was affecting his Viltrumite strength, making his movements slightly less fluid than usual. Yet he still positioned himself between her and Faora’s next attack.
“Nice throw,” he said, dry humor cutting through the tension. “Ten out of ten. Very literal.”
Despite the pain, Kara felt a small, fierce smile tug at her lips. “You said slingshot. I slingshotted.”
Faora recovered and charged again, only for Luke to draw Excalibur from the sheath at his side. The ancient blade gleamed with an inner light as he met her attack in a shower of sparks.
He clearly had not practiced swordplay much—his swings were powerful but raw, more brute strength than finesse—but combined with Kara’s raw power it created a perfect storm. She came in from the side with a devastating punch while he forced Faora to block the enchanted sword, the magical charm sparking wildly against the blade’s aura.
For a moment, amid the brutal exchanges and searing pain, their eyes met through Luke’s reflective visor. No words needed. Just that steady, supportive presence that always made her feel less alone in this strange world. He had her back. She had his.
That was enough to keep fighting even as the Kryptonite burned and the magic pulled at her strength.
Faora broke away, breathing hard, hatred blazing in her eyes. “This is not over.”
Kara wiped blood from her lip, floating shoulder-to-shoulder with Luke as they watched their enemy retreat for the moment. Her body ached. The charm’s interference still lingered like static in her veins. But the warmth of Luke’s presence beside her pushed everything else aside.
She would protect this. Protect him. No matter how many times Faora, Lex, or the universe itself tried to take it away.
…
Ace bounced on the balls of her feet in the middle of the shattered plaza outside MetaWorks HQ, pigtails swinging as the sky above lit up with Kryptonian fireworks. The air tasted like ozone and burning metal, and her head buzzed with the best kind of static.
Morgan’s stupid magic charm was doing something funny to the air—little green sparks kept flickering at the edges of her vision, making her telepathy feel… stretchy. Like taffy left in the sun. Stretchy and sparkly and completely out of control.
She loved it.
“Jason,” she sang, grabbing the back of his Red X jacket as he materialized beside her. “They brought toys. Can I play?”
Jason adjusted his grip on her, already scanning the incoming wave of LexCorp reinforcements pouring out of dropships. “Play smart. Non-lethal where we can. Go wild on the rest.”
That was all the permission she needed.
Ace reached out with her mind, the magical backlash twisting her power into something wild and unpredictable. She giggled as she brushed against dozens of mercenary minds at once.
One soldier suddenly shrieked and dropped his gun, staring in horror at his own shadow that was now waving a knife at him. Another started doing the robot dance uncontrollably, limbs jerking while his face stayed frozen in panic.
A whole squad of mindless drones behind them locked into formation and began a perfect conga line, bumping into each other in a choreographical rhythm that would have been adorable if they weren’t armed.
“Conga drones!” Ace cheered, clapping her hands. “They’re learning teamwork!”
Jason teleported them in a flash of red. They reappeared right in the middle of the chaos. Ace slapped her hands against the nearest merc’s helmet, sending a sharp psychic jab straight into his fear center.
The man yelped and ran straight into one of his own teammates, screaming about invisible spiders. Jason used the opening to drop him with a precise stun baton strike, then teleported again before the rest could react.
They moved like that in perfect sync—Jason blinking them around the battlefield like a deadly game of tag, Ace riding on his back and turning Lex’s carefully trained assault force into a slapstick comedy routine.
Every time the charm’s magic flared, her power got weirder. One guy suddenly believed he was a butterfly and tried to flutter away on tiny flapping arms. A mercenary took one look at his own reflection in a shattered window and passed out from sheer terror.
From across the plaza, Terra yelled, “Incoming heavy armor!” She slammed her hands into the ground, flipping an entire section of pavement upward like a pancake and sending two massive LexCorp robots tumbling into a freshly created crater.
Mammoth roared with delight and charged straight through the overturned machines, smashing them into scrap with his fists.
Gizmo zipped overhead on his little hover rig, cackling. “Jinx! Hit the charm! Do your magic stuff!”
Jinx rode a wave of pink hex energy, grinning wickedly. “With pleasure.” She flicked her wrist and sent a crackling curse into the air. The green glow of Morgan’s charm on the distant powered-up Faora flickered and glitched, sending random bursts of wild magic back down to the ground forces.
One group of drones suddenly started playing musical chairs with each other. Another mercenary dropped his weapon and began loudly confessing his love for interpretive dance.
Ace laughed so hard she nearly fell off Jason’s back. This was the best. Better than Cadmus. Better than anything. These people weren’t afraid of her power. They let her use it. They even cheered when she made the bad guys look silly.
“Left side!” Jason warned.
Ace spun her focus that way and pushed harder. The magical static in her head made the push slippery and bright. A whole platoon of LexCorp elite suddenly saw the ground as lava and started hopping around in full tactical gear, screaming.
One particularly determined soldier tried to shoot her, but Ace simply made him believe his gun had turned into a rubber chicken. He must’ve had a thing with rubber chickens too, because he suddenly fainted.
Jason teleported them right behind the man and dropped him with a quick strike. “Nice one.”
“You’re welcome,” Ace said sweetly, patting his mask. “I like working with you. You make the holes for my brain pokes.”
The Teen Titans had joined the fray now too—Beast Boy turning into a gorilla to wrestle a drone, Starfire blasting energy bolts while yelling something about friendship and justice, and Cyborg providing heavy cannon support from the rear.
The collaboration was gloriously ridiculous. Terra would flip the ground, Jinx would hex whatever landed wrong, and Ace would fill the resulting mess with pure cartoon chaos.
A stray energy blast from one of the few drones still functioning nearly clipped her. Ace stuck her tongue out at it and reached deeper, letting the magical backlash twist her power even further.
The drone’s AI suddenly decided it was in love with Mammoth and began chasing the giant man around the plaza making heart-shaped beeps.
Mammoth looked equal parts confused and flattered. “Uh… little help?”
“Working on it!” Gizmo called, already jury-rigging something explosive.
Ace felt a warm glow in her chest that had nothing to do with magic. These were her people now. King had given her a home. Jason kept her safe. The H.I.V.E. kids treated her like a chaotic little sister instead of a weapon.
Even the Doom Patrol waved at her between smashing things.
She wasn’t going to let Lex or his angry Kryptonian lady ruin that.
Ace closed her eyes and pushed with everything she had. The charm’s backlash made sparks explode behind her eyelids, but she didn’t care.
Across the battlefield, every remaining LexCorp mercenary and drone suddenly heard the same looping jingle in their heads—the one she’d threatened to plant earlier, now amplified a hundred times louder.
Their movements turned jerky and uncoordinated as they tried to fight both the heroes and the never-ending song stuck on repeat.
Jason teleported them to the top of a flipped truck for a better view. “You’re terrifying, you know that?”
Ace beamed at him, legs kicking happily. “Thank you! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all week.”
Below them, the ground forces were in full retreat—stumbling, dancing, singing, and generally making fools of themselves while the MetaWorks alliance pushed them back. Terra raised another wall of earth to cut off their escape route.
Jinx hexed the last functional dropship into a giant pink piñata that exploded candy and spare parts everywhere. Even Cliff looked like he was having fun, using a piece of debris like a baseball bat.
Ace rested her chin on Jason’s shoulder, watching the beautiful mess she’d helped create. Her head hurt and her nose was bleeding a little from the magical feedback, but she felt happier than she had in a long time.
This was what family was supposed to feel like.
Even if the family fought with robots, magic, and conga-line drones.
…
Nolan Grayson sat on the too-small couch in Dr. Martinez’s office, one massive arm draped around Debbie’s shoulders as she leaned into him. For the first time in weeks, the session actually felt like progress.
They had made it through twenty straight minutes without him putting his foot in his mouth about “conquering inferior species” or Debbie reminding him that Earth wasn’t a science project. Small victories.
His phone buzzed on the side table. Once. Twice. Then a third, more insistent vibration.
He ignored it until Cecil’s name flashed across the screen with the emergency code they had agreed on. Nolan sighed, already knowing what it meant.
“Something came up,” he said, voice low. “Luke’s in trouble. Looks like it’s a Kryptonian. And not Kara or the Boy Scout.”
Debbie’s eyes widened for a second, but she squeezed his hand instead of pulling away. “Go. We’ll finish this later. Just… come back in one piece, okay?”
Nolan leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I will. Promise.” He gave Dr. Martinez an apologetic nod and was out the door before the therapist could even finish her sentence about processing emotions.
By the time he reached the battlefield around MetaWorks HQ, the anger had settled into something cold and focused. Another Kryptonian. Lex Luthor playing god again. Corporate terrorism mixed with wizard bullshit. This planet really did attract the strangest combinations.
He rocketed down from the sky like a missile, slamming into a cluster of LexCorp heavy assault drones fused with crackling green magical runes. The impact sent metal and sparks flying in every direction.
Nolan grabbed the largest one by its chassis and used it like a club, smashing through three more in a single swing. The raw power felt good. Familiar. But this time it wasn’t for conquest. It was for his son.
A group of powered mercenaries turned their weapons on him, some kind of hybrid energy-magic blasts that actually stung when they hit. Nolan powered through them anyway, grabbing two men by their tactical vests and smashing their heads together with just enough force to knock them out.
“Just wanted one night to go right,” he muttered, dropping the unconscious pair. “You are so lucky my wife gave me the okay, or you would be charcoal, right now.”
He spotted Luke—King—fighting in the air alongside Kara, the two of them working in that seamless rhythm that still surprised him. Further down, the younger heroes and that chaotic little telepath girl were turning Lex’s ground forces into a circus. Good.
Let them handle the small fry.
Nolan launched himself higher, smashing straight through a magical-tech hybrid construct that looked like someone had tried to fuse a tank with a demonic octopus. The thing exploded in a shower of green sparks and twisted metal.
He kept moving, clearing a path through the heaviest concentrations of resistance, making sure the kids had room to breathe.
Luke glanced his way mid-fight. No words passed between them. Just a brief look—acknowledgment, respect, that quiet understanding that had started growing since their last confrontation.
Nolan gave a small nod and angled his next charge to drive a wave of reinforcements directly into Luke’s line of fire. His son adjusted instantly, using the opening to take down another cluster with that precise, controlled strength he was still hiding from most of the world.
They worked like that without needing to speak. Father and son carving through the chaos in perfect, unspoken coordination. Just like he always dreamed of.
Nolan took the brute hits, the heavy threats, and the magical nonsense that would have slowed the younger fighters down. Luke handled the surgical strikes and kept the team coordinated.
Eventually the tide pushed them both toward a reinforced LexCorp command position near the edge of the battlefield.
There, standing in the middle of it all like he owned the war, was Lex Luthor in that ridiculous gold-and-purple exosuit. The bald little caveman looked almost comical surrounded by all the destruction, barking orders into his comm while shielded by the last of his elite guard.
Nolan felt a flicker of pure contempt. On his world, a man like Luthor would be nothing. Less than nothing. He needed a fancy metal cage just to stand upright and play at being dangerous. Pathetic.
Luke landed beside him, cape settling as they both stared down at the billionaire. Nolan didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The two of them moved forward together—Nolan smashing through the final defensive line with raw power while Luke slipped in behind him, using the openings to disable the last of Lex’s personal tech.
Luthor looked up at them, eyes narrowing behind the visor of his suit. For the first time that day, he actually looked worried.
Nolan allowed himself a small, grim smile.
This part felt satisfying.
He wasn’t here to conquer anymore. He was here to protect what was his. And right now, that meant making sure Lex Luthor finally understood exactly where he stood in the food chain.
…
I rocketed toward Lex’s escape craft as it tried to break away from the chaos, engines flaring bright against the night sky. The damn thing was sleek, over-engineered, and currently doing its best impression of a rat fleeing a sinking ship.
Not tonight.
I poured on speed, cape whipping behind me, and yanked Excalibur from its sheath at my side. The blade hummed in my grip, ancient magic crackling along its edge in response to Morgan’s lingering charm still messing with the air.
With a sharp breath, I hurled it like a javelin.
The sword spun end over end with perfect, ridiculous accuracy and slammed straight into the craft’s main engine nacelle. The impact detonated in a shower of sparks and magical feedback. The ship lurched violently, engines dying in a grinding wail as it began to spiral downward.
I blurred after it. Lex’s emergency hatch blew open mid-fall and the man himself ejected, gold-and-purple exosuit trailing smoke. I caught him by the ankle just before he could activate whatever emergency teleporter he probably had hidden in that ridiculous suit.
The sudden stop jerked us both hard, but I held firm, hovering us both steady a few hundred feet above the ruined plaza.
“Well,” I said, voice modulated and dry, “this feels nostalgic. Last time I had you by the ankle like this, I was still trying to decide whether to drop you or ask questions first. Progress, right?”
Lex twisted in my grip, faceplate cracked, glaring up at me with pure, unfiltered hatred. “You think this changes anything, King? You’re still just a pretender playing hero with stolen alien power.”
I shrugged, which was awkward while holding a billionaire by one leg. “Maybe. But at least I don’t need a fancy metal walker to feel tall.”
Below us, the battlefield was finally winding down. Nolan touched down near a cluster of surrendering LexCorp forces, looking every bit the unstoppable force he was.
Mom’s influence showed—he actually paused to make sure the mercs were properly restrained instead of just smashing them flat. Progress really did look different on some people.
I descended slowly and dropped Lex none-too-gently into the waiting arms of GDA agents who had already cordoned off the area.
Cecil himself gave me a curt nod from the command truck. Lex was cuffed, disarmed, and hauled away for what would undoubtedly be another very expensive, very temporary stay in prison. He’d be out again soon enough. He always was. But for tonight, he was done.
Faora was another story. I caught a last glimpse of her battered form streaking away toward the horizon, trailing smoke and green magical sparks. She was hurt badly—Kara and I had seen to that—but she was still free.
Morgan’s charm around her neck finally fizzled out in a pathetic little pop, its power spent. One less trick in their arsenal, at least.
I landed amid the wreckage of the plaza, boots crunching on shattered concrete and deactivated drone parts. The MetaWorks building stood battered but still upright, lights flickering back on in sections as emergency systems kicked in.
My team was scattered across the battlefield, exhausted but victorious.
Jason helped Ace down from a flipped truck while she waved cheerfully at everyone. The H.I.V.E. Five bickered good-naturedly as they helped with cleanup. The Doom Patrol looked like they’d had the time of their lives.
Kara touched down beside me, breathing hard, costume scorched in places and blood on her lip. She looked beautiful anyway. We stood there for a moment amid the settling dust and distant sirens, just looking at each other.
No words at first. Just that charged silence that always seemed to stretch between us when the fighting stopped.
I reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face with one gauntleted hand. “We should really reschedule that date... Italy was nice, until the hydra showed up. Maybe we can find somewhere without ancient monsters or corporate psychopaths this time.”
Kara’s expression softened, that earnest little smile breaking through the exhaustion and pain. She leaned into the touch for just a second, protective and vulnerable all at once. “I would like that. Very much. As long as it is with you.”
Before I could reply, a final burst of chaos erupted from across the plaza. Ace had clearly decided the battle needed one last button.
Every remaining LexCorp drone and mercenary who was still conscious suddenly froze, then began singing the same obnoxiously catchy jingle at the top of their lungs—completely off-key, arms linked, swaying in unison like the world’s worst flash mob.
Even a few of the damaged drones joined in with distorted electronic warbling.
Ace skipped over to us, beaming with pure chaotic pride, nose still bleeding a little from the magical backlash. “They’ll be hearing that for hours! Maybe days! You’re welcome!”
Jason appeared behind her, looking equal parts fond and mortified. “I tried to stop her.”
I couldn’t help the tired laugh that escaped. “Of course you did. Nice work, Ace. Truly inspired psychological warfare.”
The girl saluted sloppily and skipped off again, leaving the defeated LexCorp forces to their humiliating musical fate while GDA agents tried—and failed—to maintain any sense of professionalism.
I surveyed the smoking remains of the battlefield one last time. Lex was in custody again, humiliated on live news feeds that were already going viral. Faora was loose, armed with whatever tech and rage she’d managed to keep, and clearly still loyal to whatever empire she served.
Morgan le Fay’s involvement lingered like a bad smell, promising that magic was about to become an even bigger headache in the coming weeks. And behind it all, I could see Nolan helping secure the perimeter while talking quietly on his comm—probably to Debbie. They were solid now. Really solid.
The stakes felt heavier than ever heading into whatever Act 3 had waiting for us. But standing here with Kara at my side, my ridiculous, loyal team still cracking jokes through the wreckage, and my family finally aligned… it felt worth it.
I bumped my shoulder lightly against Kara’s. “Come on. Let’s get the overtime pizza ordered before Cliff eats the entire building’s vending machines. Again.”
She slipped her hand into mine, gauntlet to gauntlet, and squeezed once. Warm. Steady. Real.
Whatever came next, we would face it together.