Clark Kent looked up to the floating, ominous armoured figure, as he kneeled in the rubble, his brightly coloured costume coated in dust. He attempted to speak, make some sort of retaliation, but how could he? This… he knew believing everything this man said was a bad idea, but this felt right. This was the truth… he was an Alien. Guess Kenny wasn’t too far off when he used to say he was adopted. Like hell he was adopted, he was more than that, he was the last survivor of an alien planet, and this invader was an enemy of his actual father… had his presence brought this threat upon Metropolis?? Whatever the reason was, this was up to him now. The heroes of his childhood weren’t around anymore, and this definitely didn’t seem like something the Gotham Bat would handle. This was HIS problem. And he had to handle it… for the sake of this city, and this planet. He looked up with determination in his eyes, the General continuing to give his speech as he floated.
“Maybe had they listened to ME over that damned machine, i could have saved all of Krypton! Yet they chose to place the remnants of my coup in that cursed Phantom Zone. And now, what remains of it? Little Kal-El and his cousin, on this pitiful planet-”
As the General spoke, Clark quickly picked himself up, performing the best ‘Super-jump’ he could do on such short notice, pulling back his arm, swinging his fist forward, making contact with the mans metallic armour, only for the impact to seemingly bounce back on him, flinging Clark back into the rubble of the floor. What other tricks did he have in that armour of his? Zod slowly ascended down, now aware of Clark's resolve to fight against him, a crash as his metallic boots made contact with the ground. Clark attempted to get back to his feet, but before he could capitalize on that, Zod inhaled deeply, and blew out from his mouth a heavy gust of cold wind… before he knew it, Clark was surrounded up to his neck by a block of ice, completely froze, unable to contain his surprise.
“W-what the?”
Zod strode forwards to the frozen ‘Kal-El’ as he struggled against his cold prison.
“The powers a Kryptonian receives from Earth’s yellow sun… amazing, are they not?”
Krypton.. That must be his home, or more correctly, HAD been his home. Freezing breath? Yellow sun? Were his abilities solar-powered? Whatever it meant, this General seemed to know far more than he did, and had much more experience. Zod neared him, reaching out with a gauntlet, nearing his face as his eyes began to glow with a dark red light.
“A shame. Farewell, Kal-El.”
It was times like these that Clark Kent was glad he could never really pay attention to big speeches. Concentrating more on his own predicament was what had provided the solution. As whatever Zod was about to do was about to happen, he struggled to force his squished up legs upwards, somehow managing to muster enough force to rip the block that contained him directly from the ground, performing another ‘Super-Jump’. Now that he knew Zod had too much defense, he would just have to use his mobility for the same. Clark's jump angled high over the General, whose eyes darted upwards as he span around, his glowing red gaze following him to the other end of the plaza, the block of ice containing Clark smashing into the ground, and shattering apart into many different chunks of ice, freeing him. As he stood up once again, taking a deep breath, before he was instantly hit by the same burning hot beams of light that had blown away his cover earlier. The beams of energy didn’t carry enough impact to move him, but he sank to his knees in pain, screaming out as the lasers coming from the grinning Generals eyes burnt two holes, one on either side of the S mark on his chest. Moving like a blur, the General dashed, now in front of Clark.
“Oh how much i despise that symbol…”
Clark could do nothing but grit his teeth at the pain, swinging one arm upwards in an attempt to target Zod’s head, the only area not covered by armour. However, his superhuman reflexes were even faster than Clark's, and far less instinctual, more planned out. With a swift move of one of his gauntlets, he caught Clark's fist in the palm of his hand, the metal fingers clenching down in a tight grip, crushing it. Grunting more, struggling not to give in, Clark swung for the other side of his head with his other side, being met with a rippling sound, as Clark's fist simply made contact with what was seemingly a circular force-field around Zod’s head. Great… it had been impossible to see up until this point. The General smirked, and swung the arm clenching on Clark’s fist to the side, throwing him like a rag-doll over to another corner of the plaza, Clark crashing into an ornate stone water fountain with a heavy thud. Water seeped over where the impact had crushed in the stone, Clark shaking his head in an attempt to fix his blurred vision, succeeding in only shaking water from his hair. He groggily picked himself up, using the stone outside wall of the circular fountain as support to lift him out, his feet making contact with the water that had pooled on the street floor. The bright, yellow sun beamed down on them, beating heavy onto the plaza, as Clark struggled to locate his opponent with his blurred vision. All he knew was that he was slowly advancing, from the steady metallic trudge of his boots. Clark finally caught on, and the moment he got sight of his advancing enemy, he moved the fastest he ever had in his life, reaching back, his muscles straining as he ripped the stone sculpture in the middle of the fountain, a lady in a toga standing upright, from its rightful place, and dashed forward the same way Zod had before, stopping a decent distance away from him, the statue being just tall enough to bridge the distance between them. He swung his arm, swinging the statue like a bat into Zod’s side, but with only one hand, Zod caught the makeshift weapon, ripping it from Clark’s grasp and throwing it into the air, catching it with both arms above his head just before it hit him. He raised one armoured boot, and with a swift kick to the chest, Clark skidded backwards, falling to his knees once again, barely supporting himself from just falling down. The Statue, held upright above the General’s head, cast a pillar of shadow over Zod and the gap between him and Clark, just stopping before Clark. All he had to do was take one step forward and simply slam it down, and it could be his end there and then… Zod gloated as he snarled.
“That was your last chance at survival… and you wasted it. Pathetic.”
However, Clark used one hand to wipe the blood from his chin as he looked up to Zod, opening his eyes, his mouth forming into a grin. “Ever take high school Physics, Zod? Disadvantage of Solar power. Inconsistent, because the sun won’t always be there.” Zod’s eyes rolled up in realization at Clark’s bluff… the weapon he was holding over his head casting just enough shade to block the sunlight from him entirely, but not from the weakened and beaten Kal-El. He had taken the bait, and with his hands full by the burden blocking his powers from being at full strength, given Clark Kent one last opportunity to turn the tide, as he bathed in the rays of what he now knew was his power source. Now, an even FASTER movement than his earlier one, Clark effortlessly glided up from the ground in one blurry movement, his arm pulled back over his shoulder as he angled his short flight upwards, before swinging forwards, his fist moving so fast that his arm somehow phased through the rippling field that showed itself just too late, the punch making contact with Zod’s jaw, throwing his head back, a heavy thud as it slammed into the back of the helmet-like force-field, the imposing warlord loosening his grip unconsciously, the same sculpture that had just cost him certain victory dropping the short distance down directly onto his head. Luckily, the force-field cushioned this, the statue splitting in two on either side of the field and falling to the floor, but under this point blank pressure, the rippling force-field phasing away for a short time, leaving him exposed, as the General falling face-down into the dust and rubble of the floor. Clark felt the need to stop, take a breather, but he knew this was the only chance he would get, adrenaline taking over as he made one last jump across to the rubble of the wall he had approached from. Digging through the rubble, his eyes lit up with hope as he found the item he had left there…
Zod quickly stumbled back to his feet, still shaken, pressing a button on the side of his gauntlet, the force-field around his head rippling as it reactivated. His eyes began to glow red, charging with heat energy, as he growled out across the plaza to Clark.
“FOR THAT CHEAP TRICK, I WON’T GIVE YOU THE HONOUR OF AN EXECUTION!”
However, before he could attempt to finish the battle, his eyes widened as Clark turned to face him from the rubble, pointing a very familiar device directly at him and grinning.
“Sorry General, but you’re still not done serving your sentence.”
He pulled on the lever, the reverse of the way the scientists had, and quickly entered the sequence of buttons, the Phantom Zone Projector whirring as out formed the portal, that barren, empty space on the other side visible, as from the front end of the portal, came a great gravitational pull. Zod dug his armoured boots into the ground, clenching his teeth as he tried to fight against the pulling winds, but there was a screeching sound as they lost their grip, the General slowly sliding closer to the portal.
“N-NO, I CAN’T GO BACK IN THAT PLACE AGAIN! NO MORE-”
Before, he could finish, his voice cut off, as the armoured man was dragged back into the portal. He let out a deep breath, returning the lever back to its original position, the portal blinking away into thin air, as he finally relaxed his posture, feeling ready to just collapse. However, that's when his enhanced hearing finally started working again, and he heard all the hustle and bustle surrounding the plaza. The emergency services and press were here…
The still costumed Clark Kent glided down from the air, his feet touching the street floor as he looked out from the plaza’s entrance to the surrounding ambulances, police cars and news reporters. He was immediately swarmed by reporters and mics, a barrage of questions, before he noticed one in particular who had managed to push her way to the front with spectacular efficiency. It was Lois.
“Sir, tell the people of Metropolis who you are.”
She held out the microphone to him, a camera crew struggling to push in behind her. This was going to be on the Daily Planet?? Great, now he was writing for it AND making its front page most likely. Wait, who WAS he? Zod had called him Kal-El… no, that was a bit too Alien. He didn’t want people making the correlation between him and that zealot, it would scare them. Alien invasion mass hysteria was the last thing the world needed right now.
Okay Clark, improvise. Think of the classics. Some sorta Captain? No. He definitely wasn’t the Dr. type. No, a simple Prefix-man style name would work on short notice. What was his gimmick? None really? What did he even do? Have a big S on him?
At that moment, he thought back to Kenny’s words that fateful day.
“Kent… that was SUPER!.”
He broke his silence, looking down directly to the camera with what would soon become his famed Boy-scout smile, and spoke firmly and proudly.
“You can call me Superman, and rest assured, the fine city of Metropolis is under my protection.”
The surrounding crowd of press broke out into shouted questions, but before the surprised man had any time to respond, sirens blared out as armed, uniformed soldiers arrived, with large containment units, and armoured vehicles. It seemed as if the cleanup crew had got here.
Most people had now been evacuated from the area, and the Lexcorp agents, along with some heavily armed company, had successfully contained any threats so far. Two of the agents spoke to each other as they watched the others work.
“So who the hell do these government guys think they are?”
“I heard they’re called ARGUS or somethin’. Apparently Mr Luthor's real nice and cosy with em right now.”
They both jolted around as the newly dubbed Superman approached, handing over to them the Phantom Zone Projector, and tapping the more senior officer on the shoulder, giving a beaming grin.
“Make sure this gets put somewhere more safe this time eh?”
With that, he turned to leave, the officers silent and in awe as he took off into some sort of uneasy flight, a red blue and yellow blur.
The Superman was now world famous, a new image of hope for Metropolis. Clark Kent now had the world’s attentions. That also brought with it enemies. Men like John Corben, who lay silent in his bed in intensive care, simply awaiting the inevitable time where his condition would be stable enough for him to be shipped off to prison. However, a new nurse came in, one he had never seen before, and began the procedure to move his bed. He hadn’t been moved since he had got here… he groggily spoke.
“H-hey, where are you taking me?”
The nurse looked down to him, as she wheeled the bed out down the hall and to a room with some particularly nice looking doors.
“Oh, well you have a visitor sir.”
John Corben shook his head deliriously, grumbling out.
“N-no… ain’t nobody gonna wanna come visit me.”
The nurse gave a beaming smile.
“Well, see for yourself sir.”
The doors opened, as she wheeled the bed into a well furnished room with white walls, pressing the head of the hospital bed against a wall. A bald man in a suit stood up from the chair in which he had been sitting, approaching the bedside.
“John Corben. You may know me, my name is Lex Luthor. And i have a proposal for you.”
“Maybe had they listened to ME over that damned machine, i could have saved all of Krypton! Yet they chose to place the remnants of my coup in that cursed Phantom Zone. And now, what remains of it? Little Kal-El and his cousin, on this pitiful planet-”
As the General spoke, Clark quickly picked himself up, performing the best ‘Super-jump’ he could do on such short notice, pulling back his arm, swinging his fist forward, making contact with the mans metallic armour, only for the impact to seemingly bounce back on him, flinging Clark back into the rubble of the floor. What other tricks did he have in that armour of his? Zod slowly ascended down, now aware of Clark's resolve to fight against him, a crash as his metallic boots made contact with the ground. Clark attempted to get back to his feet, but before he could capitalize on that, Zod inhaled deeply, and blew out from his mouth a heavy gust of cold wind… before he knew it, Clark was surrounded up to his neck by a block of ice, completely froze, unable to contain his surprise.
“W-what the?”
Zod strode forwards to the frozen ‘Kal-El’ as he struggled against his cold prison.
“The powers a Kryptonian receives from Earth’s yellow sun… amazing, are they not?”
Krypton.. That must be his home, or more correctly, HAD been his home. Freezing breath? Yellow sun? Were his abilities solar-powered? Whatever it meant, this General seemed to know far more than he did, and had much more experience. Zod neared him, reaching out with a gauntlet, nearing his face as his eyes began to glow with a dark red light.
“A shame. Farewell, Kal-El.”
It was times like these that Clark Kent was glad he could never really pay attention to big speeches. Concentrating more on his own predicament was what had provided the solution. As whatever Zod was about to do was about to happen, he struggled to force his squished up legs upwards, somehow managing to muster enough force to rip the block that contained him directly from the ground, performing another ‘Super-Jump’. Now that he knew Zod had too much defense, he would just have to use his mobility for the same. Clark's jump angled high over the General, whose eyes darted upwards as he span around, his glowing red gaze following him to the other end of the plaza, the block of ice containing Clark smashing into the ground, and shattering apart into many different chunks of ice, freeing him. As he stood up once again, taking a deep breath, before he was instantly hit by the same burning hot beams of light that had blown away his cover earlier. The beams of energy didn’t carry enough impact to move him, but he sank to his knees in pain, screaming out as the lasers coming from the grinning Generals eyes burnt two holes, one on either side of the S mark on his chest. Moving like a blur, the General dashed, now in front of Clark.
“Oh how much i despise that symbol…”
Clark could do nothing but grit his teeth at the pain, swinging one arm upwards in an attempt to target Zod’s head, the only area not covered by armour. However, his superhuman reflexes were even faster than Clark's, and far less instinctual, more planned out. With a swift move of one of his gauntlets, he caught Clark's fist in the palm of his hand, the metal fingers clenching down in a tight grip, crushing it. Grunting more, struggling not to give in, Clark swung for the other side of his head with his other side, being met with a rippling sound, as Clark's fist simply made contact with what was seemingly a circular force-field around Zod’s head. Great… it had been impossible to see up until this point. The General smirked, and swung the arm clenching on Clark’s fist to the side, throwing him like a rag-doll over to another corner of the plaza, Clark crashing into an ornate stone water fountain with a heavy thud. Water seeped over where the impact had crushed in the stone, Clark shaking his head in an attempt to fix his blurred vision, succeeding in only shaking water from his hair. He groggily picked himself up, using the stone outside wall of the circular fountain as support to lift him out, his feet making contact with the water that had pooled on the street floor. The bright, yellow sun beamed down on them, beating heavy onto the plaza, as Clark struggled to locate his opponent with his blurred vision. All he knew was that he was slowly advancing, from the steady metallic trudge of his boots. Clark finally caught on, and the moment he got sight of his advancing enemy, he moved the fastest he ever had in his life, reaching back, his muscles straining as he ripped the stone sculpture in the middle of the fountain, a lady in a toga standing upright, from its rightful place, and dashed forward the same way Zod had before, stopping a decent distance away from him, the statue being just tall enough to bridge the distance between them. He swung his arm, swinging the statue like a bat into Zod’s side, but with only one hand, Zod caught the makeshift weapon, ripping it from Clark’s grasp and throwing it into the air, catching it with both arms above his head just before it hit him. He raised one armoured boot, and with a swift kick to the chest, Clark skidded backwards, falling to his knees once again, barely supporting himself from just falling down. The Statue, held upright above the General’s head, cast a pillar of shadow over Zod and the gap between him and Clark, just stopping before Clark. All he had to do was take one step forward and simply slam it down, and it could be his end there and then… Zod gloated as he snarled.
“That was your last chance at survival… and you wasted it. Pathetic.”
However, Clark used one hand to wipe the blood from his chin as he looked up to Zod, opening his eyes, his mouth forming into a grin. “Ever take high school Physics, Zod? Disadvantage of Solar power. Inconsistent, because the sun won’t always be there.” Zod’s eyes rolled up in realization at Clark’s bluff… the weapon he was holding over his head casting just enough shade to block the sunlight from him entirely, but not from the weakened and beaten Kal-El. He had taken the bait, and with his hands full by the burden blocking his powers from being at full strength, given Clark Kent one last opportunity to turn the tide, as he bathed in the rays of what he now knew was his power source. Now, an even FASTER movement than his earlier one, Clark effortlessly glided up from the ground in one blurry movement, his arm pulled back over his shoulder as he angled his short flight upwards, before swinging forwards, his fist moving so fast that his arm somehow phased through the rippling field that showed itself just too late, the punch making contact with Zod’s jaw, throwing his head back, a heavy thud as it slammed into the back of the helmet-like force-field, the imposing warlord loosening his grip unconsciously, the same sculpture that had just cost him certain victory dropping the short distance down directly onto his head. Luckily, the force-field cushioned this, the statue splitting in two on either side of the field and falling to the floor, but under this point blank pressure, the rippling force-field phasing away for a short time, leaving him exposed, as the General falling face-down into the dust and rubble of the floor. Clark felt the need to stop, take a breather, but he knew this was the only chance he would get, adrenaline taking over as he made one last jump across to the rubble of the wall he had approached from. Digging through the rubble, his eyes lit up with hope as he found the item he had left there…
Zod quickly stumbled back to his feet, still shaken, pressing a button on the side of his gauntlet, the force-field around his head rippling as it reactivated. His eyes began to glow red, charging with heat energy, as he growled out across the plaza to Clark.
“FOR THAT CHEAP TRICK, I WON’T GIVE YOU THE HONOUR OF AN EXECUTION!”
However, before he could attempt to finish the battle, his eyes widened as Clark turned to face him from the rubble, pointing a very familiar device directly at him and grinning.
“Sorry General, but you’re still not done serving your sentence.”
He pulled on the lever, the reverse of the way the scientists had, and quickly entered the sequence of buttons, the Phantom Zone Projector whirring as out formed the portal, that barren, empty space on the other side visible, as from the front end of the portal, came a great gravitational pull. Zod dug his armoured boots into the ground, clenching his teeth as he tried to fight against the pulling winds, but there was a screeching sound as they lost their grip, the General slowly sliding closer to the portal.
“N-NO, I CAN’T GO BACK IN THAT PLACE AGAIN! NO MORE-”
Before, he could finish, his voice cut off, as the armoured man was dragged back into the portal. He let out a deep breath, returning the lever back to its original position, the portal blinking away into thin air, as he finally relaxed his posture, feeling ready to just collapse. However, that's when his enhanced hearing finally started working again, and he heard all the hustle and bustle surrounding the plaza. The emergency services and press were here…
The still costumed Clark Kent glided down from the air, his feet touching the street floor as he looked out from the plaza’s entrance to the surrounding ambulances, police cars and news reporters. He was immediately swarmed by reporters and mics, a barrage of questions, before he noticed one in particular who had managed to push her way to the front with spectacular efficiency. It was Lois.
“Sir, tell the people of Metropolis who you are.”
She held out the microphone to him, a camera crew struggling to push in behind her. This was going to be on the Daily Planet?? Great, now he was writing for it AND making its front page most likely. Wait, who WAS he? Zod had called him Kal-El… no, that was a bit too Alien. He didn’t want people making the correlation between him and that zealot, it would scare them. Alien invasion mass hysteria was the last thing the world needed right now.
Okay Clark, improvise. Think of the classics. Some sorta Captain? No. He definitely wasn’t the Dr. type. No, a simple Prefix-man style name would work on short notice. What was his gimmick? None really? What did he even do? Have a big S on him?
At that moment, he thought back to Kenny’s words that fateful day.
“Kent… that was SUPER!.”
He broke his silence, looking down directly to the camera with what would soon become his famed Boy-scout smile, and spoke firmly and proudly.
“You can call me Superman, and rest assured, the fine city of Metropolis is under my protection.”
The surrounding crowd of press broke out into shouted questions, but before the surprised man had any time to respond, sirens blared out as armed, uniformed soldiers arrived, with large containment units, and armoured vehicles. It seemed as if the cleanup crew had got here.
Most people had now been evacuated from the area, and the Lexcorp agents, along with some heavily armed company, had successfully contained any threats so far. Two of the agents spoke to each other as they watched the others work.
“So who the hell do these government guys think they are?”
“I heard they’re called ARGUS or somethin’. Apparently Mr Luthor's real nice and cosy with em right now.”
They both jolted around as the newly dubbed Superman approached, handing over to them the Phantom Zone Projector, and tapping the more senior officer on the shoulder, giving a beaming grin.
“Make sure this gets put somewhere more safe this time eh?”
With that, he turned to leave, the officers silent and in awe as he took off into some sort of uneasy flight, a red blue and yellow blur.
The Superman was now world famous, a new image of hope for Metropolis. Clark Kent now had the world’s attentions. That also brought with it enemies. Men like John Corben, who lay silent in his bed in intensive care, simply awaiting the inevitable time where his condition would be stable enough for him to be shipped off to prison. However, a new nurse came in, one he had never seen before, and began the procedure to move his bed. He hadn’t been moved since he had got here… he groggily spoke.
“H-hey, where are you taking me?”
The nurse looked down to him, as she wheeled the bed out down the hall and to a room with some particularly nice looking doors.
“Oh, well you have a visitor sir.”
John Corben shook his head deliriously, grumbling out.
“N-no… ain’t nobody gonna wanna come visit me.”
The nurse gave a beaming smile.
“Well, see for yourself sir.”
The doors opened, as she wheeled the bed into a well furnished room with white walls, pressing the head of the hospital bed against a wall. A bald man in a suit stood up from the chair in which he had been sitting, approaching the bedside.
“John Corben. You may know me, my name is Lex Luthor. And i have a proposal for you.”