DC2 Nemesis: Ascension

The city was dead. A necropolis where Metropolis once stood tall and proud. Superman had erupted in a solar storm of such power that buildings toppled and the explosion could be heard for miles around. The Justice League had failed this place. The Daily Planet was a scorched ruin, gutted and torn, the metal girders that made up the sides of the building twisted beyond belief. The globe that once sat proudly atop the building was no longer a shining beacon of hope in the skyline, but a forgotten relic, burnt and abandoned, lying on the streets of the dead city.

Superman had been exposed to Black Sun radiation. The Sun was his source of power-- yellow empowering, red depowering, blue energising with new and unimaginable powers. Black caused a chain reaction in his cells that caused him to die. He simply could not survive under the circumstances he'd found himself in. Green Lantern had tried to save him but failed. Wonder Woman too-- the entire Justice League had failed to save the world's greatest hero. So they withdrew, and unable to move him out of Metropolis in time-- he detonated.

The perfect bomb. No residual radiation, no radiation at all-- just pure explosive power, and then silence.

"My God."

John Henry Irons surveyed the scene of the blast. He'd been working away in isolation inside the Iron Works, deep underground, when the explosion rocked the city. He clambered out of the ruins of his factory workshop, and realised he'd missed something big-- within minutes he was back in his workshop and watching the news that lead up to the blast. WGBS showed him amateur footage of Superman battling a horde of villains and monsters, all overpowering him, overwhelming him-- and then the Justice League arrived. And things escalated into the complete and utter destruction of Metropolis!

"And... what about Superman?"

Superman had exploded. He was the cause of all the destruction.

John Henry Irons fell silent for a moment. Superman was dead? How long had he been under Metropolis? All because he needed the solitude to build a new suit of Steel armour? Isolation was best for his genius, he'd discovered, and so... and so...

"Superman is dead?"

He tried to convince himself otherwise. He tried to think-- No, Superman couldn't fall. It was Superman. Superman. Superman can never fail, he can never fall, no, but the world all around him suggested otherwise.

The world had ended, and that was that. That was the last thing John Henry Irons could garner.

"I'll always be there to protect this city," said Superman. "Until my dying breath, until I fall, this city will never be without protection. I can guarantee that."

The audience-- the men and women of Metropolis-- erupted into applause. Mayor Frank Berkowitz smiled, and put up his hands to quell the cheers and celebration. "Then it is my great honour as Mayor of this great Metropolis, to award you with this special declaration-- deputising you in the Metropolis Police Department, on behalf of all the men, women and children of this city, allowing you the powers of law enforcement you deserve. Welcome, Superman. Welcome to Metropolis!"

Silence was all that was left.

"I refuse," John Henry said. "I refuse to believe that." His armour began to shift into place over his body. This is what he'd been working on. This was Steel Mk. 10. The ultimate step in his efforts to become the best he could possibly be. The impossibly strong metal alloy clicked together like a jigsaw puzzle all over his body, wrapping around his limbs and then webs of power relaying circuitry needling across his muscles to connect to the main relay conduits inside the energy centres. He grunted, his skin being penetrated by tiny tacks that would connect the armour to his central nervous system-- into his brain-- and finally his visor jutted over his face, the transformation complete in less than a second. "Where are you?"

[/b]

The residents of Metropolis were safe. The tesseract 'life boat' beneath the Hall of Justice could hold millions, and they were all resting snugly beyond the world. The Justice League had said nothing four hours now, it felt, though maybe time moved differently here... maybe it had been months? No one knew. They watched old films, large cinema screens installed in wings of the massive complex, stored away in a pocket dimension. A city beneath a city inside another world.

"Hey, Lois?" Clark Kent smiled as he approached Lois Lane's desk. "Bit late to be working, isn't it?"

"What, are the stories going to wait, Smallville?" Lois was working on what seemed to be twelve stories at once. Another expose on Lex Luthor's shady dealings, three Superman pieces, and something to do with the strange amount of lead that composed the sidewalks of the city. "Are the stories going to have a nap whilst I get some beauty sleep?"

"Lois, you, uh, you don't need any bea--"

Lois Lane waved her hand, interrupting him. "No! They're not going to have a nap! You lack that killer instinct, Smallville! You may have got the big Superman interview, you may have the inner scoop with half the goings on in the metahuman community, but you still need that edge! And I think, if you stick with me, you can bring it out."

"Oh," said Clark quietly. "Alright."

"Where... where's Clark?" Lois Lane was being hugged tightly by Jimmy Olsen. She hadn't said a word since Metropolis fell-- not until this moment. The Daily Planet staff were working away around them, dozens of reporters and photojournalists prowled the halls of this place, using their laptops, mobile phones, blackberries, anything that could be written upon. Anything to get what could be their last words out before the end. Perry White had already organised a special edition of the Planet, an inside scope at the end of the world, he had called it. Jimmy could see through the Chief. He could see he was working his damnedest to keep his people together, whilst he, the man they all looked up to, was barely keeping himself from falling apart. "He should be... shouldn't he be... be here?"

"Where the hell have you been, Kent?! We were being invaded by evil space gods--

"... New Gods."

"Evil-New-Space-Gods-- and you're nowhere to be found!" Perry White sucked on his cigar, and then dabbed it out in the ash tray, his window open wide to air out his office. "I needed your story on my desk an hour ago! The world nearly ended! And we've got a late edition to get out!"

"Mr. White, sir, I emailed you the story last night, it'll be in your inbox, sorry, I should have, umm, sent a memo."

"Ah, you're a good kid, Kent!" Perry's face twisted from anger to happiness in an instant. "Oh, here it is! My spam-filter hates you, Kent."

"It's just the effect I have on people, I guess, Mr. White," said Clark Kent, as he nodded awkwardly. "I have to head off-- I need to head back to Smallville, something has happened, and, well... my Pa... I have to go."

"Clark is in Smallville," Perry White said. He fiddled with the box of matches he held in his hand. He had already started trying to kick his habit-- and all his cigars were in his office draw when The Flash had run himself ragged to clear the city. "He has to be in Smallville."

"That was weird," said Jimmy Olsen, lying in a hospital bed. "I don't even remember what happened..."

"But you got a cool scar for your troubles, Jim," said Clark Kent. "Who was to know that this whole... Justice League versus America hoopla would drag you and Perry in?"

"Well, I guess you don't get called Superman's Pal for sitting on your butt all day, you know? But I don't like the idea of being used to get at him, you know?"

"I'm sure... I'm sure Superman would understand if you have him back the signal watch, Jim. I'm sure he wouldn't mind it if you walked away from your partnership."

"What? 'Partnership'? I'm Superman's best friend, barring, probably, Batman--" He laughed, and shook his head. "Because honestly, that guy is pretty cool. No. Superman is my best friend, and you have to take a few for your friends, you know Clark? I would never abandon him. Even if I did try and beat him over the head with some Kryptonite... damn freaking mind-control starfishes..."

"I understand, Jim. You're a good guy."

"Yeah, you know what CK is like, he's... always... always..." Jimmy said nothing else.

"Clark is in Smallville," repeated Perry. "Now I..." he breathed in deeply, and pocketed the matchbox. "I have to go see Alice."

[/b]

Supergirl watched as Lana Lang sipped from the mug of soup Martha had prepared for her. Smallville was safe, she'd made sure of this. Clark would want the world safe-- and even though she knew he would never ask-- she knew that Martha Kent had to be safe. Kelex was floating at the door, his sensors sweeping out, ensuring they were safe.

Mere hours ago, Kara Zor-El had stepped out of a doorway from another dimension-- back from an assignment, she discovered, that Kal-El had sent her on to get her away from the coming darkness that would overtake the world. He hoped to spare her suffering, hoped to stem the tide so she wouldn't be exposed. He had failed. Fallen in battle. They were alone now.

Not to say that he'd left her defenceless-- she wore a white and blue costume that covered the entirety of her body. Kal had hoped to wear a similar costume before the Black Sun rose, but was too late... Kryptonian Solar-Cells couldn't take that charge. He'd exploded.

She could barely wrap her head around that concept.

"I have to go to Metropolis. The... Justice League... Society... someone... they'll be mobilizing, won't they?"

"Yes, yes," said Ma Kent quietly, nodding as she spoke. "We'll be here."

<I shall protect them, Mistress Kara,> said Kelex.

"I know you will, friend," smiled Kara, stroking the golden metal of the robot's head.

"Be safe, Kara," Lana Lang gently caught Supergirl's wrist before she could fly out of the farmhouse that they were currently residing in. "Be safe, and keep safe. You understand?"

"Yes, Lana, I will be."

Supergirl flew away from Smallville.

"I love you, Ma," said Clark, as he pulled his cape around his shoulders, ready for lift off.

"I love you too, son." Her son. All grown-up.

[/b]

Nekron crawled through space. He'd been preparing for this moment in existence time and time again, but had been foiled countless times by the cowardice of the angelic hordes that had been his apparent jailers since that moment before Creation--

"Metropolis," he said, the words echoing out across the vacuum of space, "Children, rise--"



Steel trudged through the wreckage of the city he had called home. There was no noise. Every footfall echoed out all around, and his sensors were screaming at him from inside his armour. Something was wrong. The air was electric, the wind so deadly still.

He made his visor transparent, and then realised where he was-- clambering over the ruins of the fallen Daily Planet building. He looked down at the shattered desks and scorched walls, and shook his head-- only to notice something just in his periphery.

"Hello?" he called out.

He hurried over to where he'd spotted the movement, and then saw something move behind him. What was this? The shadows were playing tricks with him? Or was it his eyes? Both were impossible. He opaqued his visor, and ran a sensor sweep.

Then the voice came. Quiet at first, a whisper, and then growing in volume. Not because the whisper was becoming a shout-- but because there were more of them, more voices, all joining this choir of unsettling horror.

"John. Henry."

"Irons. Steel. Hero. Legend. Waste. Waste of time. Waste of space. Waste of potential.

"Irons. You."

He spun around, his hammer raised.

"Mother..." he whispered, as the shapes began to lift out of the ground. Shadows became tangible, their mouths gaping wounds full of obsidian needles, eyes red marbles rolling in their sockets. They spoke as one, and Metropolis was suddenly filled with a dozen, then a hundred, then more and more of these things, coming out of the cracks of the shattered, raped buildings that had been left in the wake of Superman's demise.

"Not your mother. Dead. Dead and screaming. Gone.

"You. Shall. Not."

"Survive the night. Survive long. Survive us."

"Not Pass."

"Stop me," he grunted, powering up all his armour to it's highest settings. "And quit talking about my mother like that. Makes me want to unleash all kinds of hell on you."

"Hell. You don't know Hell. Not yet. Not now. Will. Soon. Suffer."

"You. Shall."

"Die."

"Die screaming. Die apart. Die in flames. Die forever."

They began to swarm toward the armoured-hero, their claws growing, stretching, screaming at his armour as they started their attack. He recognised the creatures-- these were the things that had fought Superman before he exploded. The footage he'd reviewed before venturing out didn't have them speak though. This was a whole new level of unsettling. His arms moved impossible fast, he swatted them away, some easily, some with great difficulty-- the shadows were sometimes there, sometimes real, but sometimes they were simply shadows. They moved in close, Steel's hammer passing harmlessly through them; then, when they were close, they shrieked and clawed at his armour, and he had to adjust his concentration to break them into a dozen pieces.

His computers couldn't get a bead on what they were. They weren't magic, not any kind of magic that his armour could detect (and his armour could, weirdly enough, detect magic, thanks to the help and consultancy of a certain magician friend of his), but not science-based either. They weren't energy beings. He thought of Larry Trainor, of the Negative Man, and how his energy signature sent all equipment not designed by Niles Caulder haywire. These things were shadows. That's what Steel's equipment told him.

"...You don't make much sense," he smiled. "But you do make a little. So following your logic..."

He charged up his armour, the surface of the gouged and battered suit shifting in composition, and smiled as the build up in charge whistled up his spine-- within seconds, there was a massive flash of light, and the shadow-things dissipated, and Steel could catch his breath.

"Why here? Why now?" There was a quiet beeping inside his helmet. His eyes opened wide. "Wait..." His armour was intertwined with extraterrestrial materials. Kryptonian crystal tech was laced inside his suit, and as such, certain protocols worked away in the background constantly. Theta-Waves were being projected somewhere in the vicinity?

Theta-Waves were the psychic wavelength exclusive to Kryptonians.

And the only Kryptonian in Metropolis?

"Superman..."

"Mr Irons--!"

John Henry span around, looked up in the sky, and his smile twisted into a frown as Supergirl descended toward him. "Kara..." The disappointment was apparent in his expression. "... I thought, for a moment... nevermind."

"I'm here for the Justice League-- but I heard you fighting." She allowed herself a slight laugh. "I guess I'm too late to help with that too, right?"

Steel shrugged. "I sorted it out." She landed beside him, and he placed his hand on her shoulder. "The world is in a rough shape. The Justice League are coming together, you--"

"Shh," snapped the young heroine. "Can you hear that?"

Kara Zor-El had lived a different life than Kal-El, her cousin. Instead of landing on Earth and raising her infant cousin, as her parents had intended, her ship had become lost in space, her body kept in stasis, before crash landing on an overgrown, wild planet where there was nothing but monsters and beasts. Her super-senses were much more acute than Superman's-- she had to hunt to survive, she had to prowl the jungle. People seemed to forget that when they saw her naive smile and the red and blue uniform she normally wore, but in a fight, punches flying, that snarl on her lips... they didn't forget for long.

"What is it?" Steel inquired.

"The... faintest of heartbeats..." Supergirl looked at Steel. "It could be Kal... he could still be alive!"

"You. Shall."

"Never. Know"

"Join him. Join him in death. In the darkness. Join the world. Humanity."

The shadows began to pool back into being. Steel cursed, and then looked at Supergirl, awkwardly. "Sorry. Dammit, I can't repeat that stunt again, my armour needs time to charge--"

"And I can't use my heat vision, not with this mask protecting me from the Black Sun radiation..."

"Go find him," Steel said, blue energy wrapping itself around his hammer. "I'll hold them off."

"But--"

"Go!" She vanished in a gust of wind and dust, leaving Steel against the overwhelming hordes. "You want to keep talking smack? Because I got your witty comeback right here--!" He swung his hammer down on the ground, and the psychical shadows flew every which way-- whilst the intangibles trudged toward him, their claws stretching into impossible lengths, their teeth gnashing and tearing.

Supergirl bore through the ruins of Metropolis, smashing through concrete, metal, anything that got in her way. She found herself beneath the Daily Planet building, and in the archives room, the lowest level of the building, in the dankest recesses of the basement. Lead was playing havoc with her X-Ray vision, and she swore, before thinking back to John Henry Irons, and the look of embarrassment that spread across his face when he'd cursed in front of her. They weren't supposed to swear were they.

"Watch... your... mouth... Kara..." Her eyes opened wide, and she tracked the voice to the source-- "Am... I glad... to see... you..."

Kal-El was emaciated-- his skin pale, his muscles thin slips of their former glory. His eyes bulged out of their sockets, his cheekbones pushed against what little flesh he had left on his face. He smiled, tried to laugh, but a hacking cough left his lips. His costume was in tatters, but he'd found a caretaker's uniform that he'd clambered inside. He was so weak...

"I don't... you... you're alive!" she rushed over to him, and collected him up in her arms, hugging him tightly before realising that he was weakened beyond anything he'd experienced previously. "How...?"

Kal pulled himself up, Kara supporting, and then looked her in the eye. "My solar charge... was pushed out of my body. I felt my every cell scream... I... I destroyed metropolis, didn't I? Are they... are they a--"

"The Flash," interrupted Supergirl, "The Flash got them out. The Justice League kept fighting, we're... they're..." Superman managed a smile, nodding in gratitude. "And Ma and Lana...they're alright, I flew there, Kelex is with them now... they're safe."

"We can win this, I," he tried to take a step, but stumbled, "I need solar energy. I need to get into the fight."

"Mr Irons is still fighting on the surface."

"John Henry," grinned Clark. "Fantastic. He'll be able to help. Get me... get me to the Iron Works. Then get John Henry out of there, we need to... to get... get to safety. The Iron Works is still standing, right? The lower levels were built to withstand a nuclear holocaust. I should... I should... know." He coughed again, the effort to talk wiping him out. "Fly, Kara, please..." Superman blinked, and found himself lying on a bed inside the Iron Works. "That's..." and then he blacked out.

Steel was still fighting. They'd torn through his new armour, and the self-repair systems were struggling to keep up. His power-levels were being driven to their reserves already, and he knew that he'd need to have a look at the power relay systems if he survived this-- when he survived this.

Crimson heat shot all around him. The shadows flickered and then faded from sight, and Steel looked up to see Supergirl, two pin pricks boiling away in her mask, her eyes smouldering with the effort of her heat vision. She swatted the tangible monstrosities away, and then scooped up Steel. She was smiling, even as they flew. "He's alive. Weak, but alive."

"Go-" They landed inside the Iron Works, and Supergirl sealed them up inside, safely away from the shadow monsters outside. "-od!"

Superman was laying back on one of the beds that resided inside his lab, and Steel was at his side instantly, his armour peeling away and clanging on the floor as it did so. "You need Yellow Sun radiation. I have the sun-lamps ready, always... always... we can get you back into the fight, Superman! The fight isn't done yet."

Superman managed a smile as Kara removed her helmet. She nodded in gratitude to him, thanking him for simply surviving. "No rest... for... the wicked, eh?"

"Nor for those that fight them," finished Supergirl. "I'll stand watch-- make sure none of those things break in. You know what to do."

Kal-El nodded as John Henry Irons powered up the sun-lamps. "Fight."