When I first flew into Metropolis, it was breathtaking. My plane began its descent, and the city lights blurred into the dark night. I felt the tension slip away. I hadn't liked flying in this iron box since my army days, but that was the week I arrived in this world, and I was being hidden. I had to endure it.
I was prepared for something unusual, but I didn't expect it to be so vibrant and grand. At first, I looked at the city from above. Towering skyscrapers seemed to stretch into infinity, their windows reflecting light, creating the illusion of countless tiny mirrors. I knew Metropolis wasn't just a city but an entire ecosystem, alive and pulsating, yet I was still struck. Compared to the cities I'd seen before, everything here was genuinely massive: not just the buildings, but the spaces between them, the sky that seemed to rise even higher than usual.
The plane landed smoothly, and a few minutes later, I was standing in the terminal. Everything here felt different, not like ordinary airports. Huge glowing panels, shimmering walls, and impeccable cleanliness—it seemed the city was ready for any visitor. I headed toward the exit, noticing people in stylish clothes among the passengers, as if each one was part of a grand mechanism, moving with a clear purpose. Metropolis greeted me with cool air. It wasn't the familiar winter chill I'd encountered before. The air here was different—slightly drier, yet fresh and invigorating. I stepped outside and immediately realized I was in an entirely different world. Hundreds of cars moved around me, people hurried by, some rushing, others strolling, soaking in the atmosphere. The first thing that caught my eye was the insane scale of everything I saw. These weren't just tall buildings but entire complexes, intersecting and connecting with one another. It was as if the city's architecture was designed so residents could not just move but live in the air. On the ground floor—shops, restaurants, cafes; a bit higher—offices and apartments. Some zipped through the streets on motorcycles, others on high-speed skateboards, while some simply walked, enjoying the vibe.
I noticed massive screens glowing high on the buildings, broadcasting the latest news and announcements. Everything around was technological, incredibly modern, and yet cozy. I can say that even in such a noisy crowd, I felt comfortable. Everything was organized, the people here somehow relaxed, though each seemed busy with their own affairs. I headed toward one of the main streets, where towering skyscrapers stood in tight rows. On both sides were shops with storefronts that shimmered with bright lights. Suddenly, my gaze fell on a cafe with a massive window, behind which two women were warming drinks on a mobile platform. I approached and saw that the tables didn't just have coffee cups but entire trays with intricate tech, allowing customers to adjust the temperature of their drinks as they pleased.
I stepped inside, and a girl greeted me with a smile, inviting me to sit at a table. The cafe was noisy, but the clamor wasn't intrusive like in some places. It was like part of city life, a kind of music of the metropolis. I ordered a coffee and took a moment to observe. I noticed that most people had devices on their tables, resembling small screens they held and quickly scrolled through. It took me a moment to realize—these weren't just gadgets. They were likely connected to something bigger. And it probably wasn't just for entertainment. Metropolis was a city where technology and people didn't just coexist but merged into something unified. The logo with the letter "L" was hard to miss. After all, this was the city housing the headquarters of the massive LEX corporation.
After my coffee, I stepped back onto the street. The city seemed to come alive with every step. I felt myself becoming part of this system, this mechanism. A group of people on scooters zipped by, and one of them shouted something cheerful at me, making me smile involuntarily. This city seemed to pull you in, making you forget about time and distance.
I headed toward the main square, and the atmosphere there struck me. A massive statue of the Man of Steel captivated the imagination. They loved him here, revered him. With a smirk, I continued my stroll.
Right at the square was a large park with tall trees, illuminated not by ordinary streetlights but by fixtures embedded in the ground. Greenery in Metropolis wasn't just plants—it was a design element, perfectly integrated into the urban environment. I saw a few people sitting on benches, lost in their thoughts. A bit further was an old amphitheater, now used for exhibitions and cultural events. Projections on its walls displayed historical events and technologies made possible by Metropolis's progress. One of the highlights was Superman's protection of the city. Crime here was at a minimal level.
Immersed in the atmosphere, I decided to linger a bit longer and see how things would unfold. I wandered the city streets for a few more hours, never ceasing to marvel at its scale and incredible pace of life. It felt like every corner was imbued with the idea of movement and change. When I returned to my hotel late that evening, I couldn't sleep for a long time. My gaze drifted over the city lights, and I realized the city never slept. It was intriguing to peer through the walls of all this beauty. A beautiful city, filled with life and joy.
Now, levitating above the ruins of a skyscraper, beneath which people were trapped, I stared at a ferocious beast tearing through tanks and soldiers like paper. I couldn't help but be horrified. Such a beautiful city...
The U.S. Army was trying to kill or drive off Doomsday, but the creature, like a cornered animal, struck back even harder. Explosions and screams filled the city. Only in this city, for miles around, there were no Parademons, and it was unclear whether that was intentional or not.
A blow, and the creature's head exploded in shards of skull, and it died. It was a lethal strike, one that no one but someone with regeneration like mine could survive.
But…
Barely five seconds later, it stood again and tried to pierce me with its claws. Time and again, this creature refused to die. At first, attacking without energy and at minimal strength, I could only knock it back. Upping my attack level, I managed to break its neck, but a second later, it came back to life, though it was definitely dead. No pulse, no brain activity. The corpse simply stood up and started smashing everything around, trying to get to me. A living dead.
I was in my recognizable suit, and the soldiers saw I was trying to do something about it, but apparently failing, so they decided to drop an airstrike bomb within city limits. Negotiations and an old man's voice were clearly audible. Some high-ranking official sitting far from here. Madmen resolved to bury everything around just to kill the creature, but that suited me fine. Though…
I needed cover to ditch the torn suit and a piece of myself so everyone would believe I was dead. It would be easier for everyone, including me, if Superboy died trying to save Metropolis. Symbolic.
Alright, no bombs today.
Now, at about thirty percent of my strength without active energy, I was trying to kill the creature, but it kept upgrading, evolving with each attempt. Dangerous, but so far, everything was going according to plan. I needed more destruction, more tragedy.
It tossed a tank, which I caught and set on the ground. It nearly killed a soldier, but I yanked the young man from under its claws. Slowly, we moved toward the main park, where the statue of Metropolis's hero stood. Our exchange of blows sent shockwaves that swept away asphalt and cars, the ground trembling from our clashes. A strike from the creature, and the statue crumbled into fragments, while the arriving soldiers surrounding us attacked it even more fiercely, as if they felt humiliated by such treatment of their hero. Time to act.
"Soldiers!" I called, drawing everyone's attention. "Stand back! I'll handle this beast."
For emphasis, my eyes glowed, and a high-temperature beam shot into Doomsday's chest. It seemed unfazed, raising an arm to shield itself from the beam and charging at me. Perfect, and here come the reporters. A helicopter's blades sliced through the sky above, heading our way, and the voice of a woman sounded familiar—I'd heard it before. More drama.
"Aaah!" My eye beams tried to stop the creature for all to see, while I retreated, shielding the soldiers behind me. I'd make a great actor; I looked the part. Yelling as if straining, I tried to hold it back; the monster, dodging my beam, got close and reached for my chest. Its massive spike at the joint of its fingers pierced my chest, and I, staring shocked into its beastly face, coughed up blood. The helicopter caught the climax of this performance perfectly. Drops of my blood hit the ground, and I, with a resolute expression, mustered all my strength, grabbed the monster by the arm piercing my chest, and flew skyward, disappearing from sight in the clouds. With a strong kick, I hurled Doomsday off the planet and sped back to the ground to add the final touches. A quick change into regular clothes, and I was just a boy with superpowers again. The torn suit, with a hole in the chest, was tossed from the sky to land where the camera last captured me. Glancing one last time into the eyes of Lois Lane, the reporter who filmed Superboy's final moments, I flew upward. Strange, but I was really tired of that suit.
Exiting the atmosphere, I bound the monster's body, which was hurtling toward the moon, with telekinesis and headed for the nearest black hole. I needed something strong to hold this creature. It tried to break free, but my powers, fueled by energy, were a prison it couldn't escape. A new trick, cooked up on the fly during attempts to kill Darkseid.
Time to end this lousy melodrama.
My head ached…
---
Looking at Doomsday struggling to break free from my grip, I scanned the surroundings. The nearest black hole to Earth, Gaia-BH1, was 1,560 light-years away. Its mass was about 9.6 solar masses. I didn't feel any pressure from it. Just a soft breeze on my skin, like a summer evening wind.
During attempts to kill Darkseid, I tried countless insane and suicidal ideas, including black holes. It was one of the first things I attempted to use to kill the god of Apokolips. It didn't work, but it gave me immense confidence in my abilities. It felt like my natural environment. Astonishing.
But after so much destruction across the universe, a black hole seemed so trivial it didn't even stir any emotions. I don't know how much time passed in those endless attempts, but it felt like centuries…
I was still recovering from my obsession with endless killing attempts and, arriving one last time, looked into the eyes of the mad creature that only wanted to destroy, then tossed it into the black void of space. Whatever.
At first, it floated slowly, as if in slow motion, near the black spot, then vanished into the darkness. That's it. I doubt it'll kill this insanely immortal beast, but it'll buy time for the heroes. I need to return to Earth and use the spell to get back to my homeworld. I had ideas about what to do to return. I lacked confidence in my abilities, but I gained it. At what cost?
God, I'm exhausted…
The flight back was effortless, and the black hole's energy pulsed within me, its colorless particles sparkling like bright stars inside. During energy experiments, Kent and I made discoveries about my radiation reserves.
Unfortunately, I'd never be a mage in the traditional sense, as my energy was too destructive and heavy. It was like iron compared to the air of mana—too inert for spellcasting. According to Kent, only my nature allowed me to use the world-jumping spell, which wasn't from this universe. Kent tried teaching me to summon a simple flame on my finger—the easiest thing a novice mage could do—but all I got was nothing. Energy flowed to my finger, sure, but it didn't go further. How lasers came from my eyes remained a mystery, as the energy transformed somehow, and even Kent Nelson, a capital-M Mage, couldn't figure out what happened to it during laser vision. That my physical stats skyrocketed exponentially wasn't too surprising—any mage could rival Atlanteans in that regard. But my ability to heat body parts, like with eye lasers, baffled the experienced mage. I was like a crippled, weird, deficient mage who couldn't use his powers, yet my reserves were enough to travel between worlds twice, round trip. Though each jump to different realities varied—sometimes more, sometimes less. Utter chaos, honestly. Kent said it took a ton of energy to summon me, while I could do it myself. It felt more like I was artificially created, but I didn't confirm the curious mage's suspicions. I had enough trouble figuring out my powers, which sometimes acted up.
Earth greeted me with its stunning landscapes, and the Sun, shining brightly as always, was pleasing to the eye. I'd grown used to flying through space full of destruction while killing the immortal Darkseid, so looking at Earth, which I'd blown up countless times, felt strange.
So many attempts to kill that gray-skinned giant, I scoured the planet and found interesting but mostly useless details. Amazons, strange cities, mages, magical creatures, various terrifying beasts. But one thing intrigued me personally—Kryptonian tech for creating an autonomous base. All that crystalline stuff drove me crazy, though. In countless attempts, I tried breaking the Fortress of Solitude, demanding and pleading, but always ended up with the system self-destructing or everything nearby being destroyed. Jor-El seemed to know he couldn't stop me and, in every attempt, ensured everything was destroyed—by me or the Fortress itself. Never figuring out what to do with it, I decided to steer clear of the suicidal AI that, in my endless pleas to its conscience or morality, either attacked or ignored me. Too loyal to Kal-El, it wouldn't budge even when his son was threatened. Respectable, but infuriating. Still, I glanced at the ring on my finger.
Maybe this could…
Clutching my head, I heard an old man's voice:
"Submit-Submit-Submit…" The ring pulsed in sync with the words, flashing with the old man's voice, but all it achieved was a headache and stinging eyes. Shaking my head, I removed the ring and crushed it with half my strength, no energy. It cracked, and the last thing I heard was a desperate scream:
"No-o-o!"
What nonsense. Why does this happen to me? Brushing off the green dust drifting toward Earth, I exhaled. Now only this remained; I gently touched the vial in my pants pocket. It had stayed intact through all these moments.
Is fate mocking me? Why do I get stuck with this stuff? That idiotic ring.
I have to keep the vial safe. Shame the ring turned out to be a trap, but in a world where heroes became villains, I should've expected a unique catch. Turns out, the ring meant to be my tool had a will and mind of its own.
A gun with its own thoughts? Who the hell came up with that?
With a mental push, I propelled myself toward the frozen planet, breached the atmosphere, and flew toward Kansas. It'd be better to return where my home is and orient myself quickly. I'd need to fly to Germany, specifically a Berlin suburb where the clinic was, but first, I had to go to school. I'd been here about 25 days, and if my high-speed calculations were right, 25 days in this world equaled 351 minutes and 40 seconds in my homeworld. That's about 5 hours, 51 minutes, and 40 seconds—sunrise soon, just in time for breakfast.
A quick flight in a war-torn world, and I'm in Kansas. Looking down—endless expanses. Green fields, sprawling farms scattered along roads. From above, the roads stretch perfectly straight, with villages and small towns nestled between. I see Smallville—quiet, like the others, no excessive hustle. Parks, houses with big yards, kids playing on the streets. People everywhere, calm, unhurried, but busy. In the distance, small hills; on the horizon, rare buildings.
The sky's clear, the sun shines, nothing hints at trouble. Nature grows peacefully, as if waiting for something. Life below moved at its usual pace, but the portals about to open were visible here too. Why would Darkseid attack civilians? No clue, but the red blur moving at nearly my speed without active energy would handle it, as it would the whole planet.
The real hero arrived, and Superman, not waiting for them to set foot in his home state, began slaughtering Parademons. Not very heroic, but war leaves no room for peaceful resolutions. A beautiful, bloody spectacle.
Seeing Kent's arrival meant I didn't need to save anyone, I started piecing together the spell's symbols in my mind. A flash—and I'm in my homeworld. Just as ordinary, no heroes, just as calm, no alien invasions. The tension in my body, braced for some trick, eased, and my shoulders straightened.
Breathing my planet's air, I said:
"Finally."
---
"Grandma, I'm off!" I shouted to the kind woman whose heart was beating unusually fast today and dashed to the bus. Nodding to Caitlin, I buried myself in my sketchbook, drawing various heroes. My thoughts were a mess, and this was my only escape from heavy thoughts about my cowardice. What have I done…
"You like the Flash?" A curious face leaned over my shoulder, watching me draw the hero.
"Not exactly like, I just enjoy positive heroes." I hope you survive, Barry.
"Ohh, I like Superman more…"
The slow bus ride passed quickly with conversation. The morning felt odd. Watching a peaceful sleeping city, calm people waking up for their usual jobs, kids reluctantly heading to school, dogs being walked—it was all so strange. So unfamiliar. After living over three weeks in a world preparing for war, where crime was so high there were all sorts of heroes, where every hero was celebrated and famous, returning to a simple, ordinary world was hard. Like coming back to civilian life after war.
But I calmed myself, and the vial in my pants warmed my peace of mind. Everything should be fine. Everything should be okay.
Slipping away after getting off the bus toward the restroom, I blurred into speed and shot toward my destination.
I lift off the ground, feeling the familiar mental manipulation. A thought, and clouds greet me with their purity and silence. The wind tussles my hair, and I'm airborne, as if an invisible hand lifts me. Kansas, with its endless fields and sometimes dull towns, fades quickly. I scan the ground, watching the horizon stretch wider. Straight ahead—the horizon line, and I accelerate, feeling the air stream past, growing sharper and colder. Minutes later, Kansas vanishes, giving way to Illinois with its winding rivers and big cities. Below, I spot Chicago, its towering skyscrapers gleaming like giants reaching for the sky. Far west, I catch the glow of massive bridges and countless buildings. I leave them behind, not lingering on this vast metropolis that blends into the horizon seconds later, revealing a new landscape—green fields transitioning into dense forests and small lakes.
I race through Michigan and New York, past the majestic Lake Erie. I have seconds to take in its size before climbing higher, hiding the hundred-meter waves crashing on the vast water's surface. Time seems to slow—though I'm moving at speeds beyond expectation, I feel every moment, traveling this boundless world.
Flying over the Atlantic, I notice the climate shift. The vast waters grow darker, colder, and below, white wave crests break the surface like ancient monsters glancing at my flight. Here, above the Atlantic, the wind changes—humid, with dropping temperatures. To the east, I see Europe's islands and coastlines, then, nearing the mainland, the first signs of the continent.
Hours later, crossing the wide Atlantic, I catch sight of the Old World. Britain's coast appears first. The sky grays, rain falls in slanted lines into the sea. There's England—land of ancient kingdoms, with red-roofed villages, small towns, and fields divided by narrow roads. I keep moving, crossing the English Channel. France's misty lands draw near. Vast rural expanses, small settlements along roads. But I don't stop. I climb higher, ignoring borders and countries, eyeing the ever-darkening sky ahead. Germany looms closer over Europe.
Instantly, I enter a humid, cool atmosphere. The wind whistles, and below, blurred by rain, fields, forests, and towns flash by like I'm gliding through a foggy wall. I cross into Berlin's direction. From above, the massive city looks like a sprawling anthill. At a few kilometers' altitude, I spot breaks in the clouds, and below, I trace the outlines of rivers, bridges, and buildings, which blur until I descend enough to feel their shapes. Climbing again, I see railway lines, major highways, and glowing city-center lights. It feels instantaneous and deceptively close, but I know I've got a few more minutes of flight to reach Berlin's nearest suburb.
Calmly descending, I'm soon in a quiet suburb. Silence, peace. The sky's still gray but clear. Houses, gardens, parked cars, and a stillness I feel despite the wind's hum in my ears. My gaze slides over sidewalks, cozy yards, and old buildings. This place doesn't seem ideal for landing, but there's no choice. The clinic, glowing with white light, stands here.
The flight's power in my body quiets, and I slow, gently landing in the center of the tranquil suburban district, where houses look as ordinary as anywhere else. In a narrow alley, I adjust the mask I wore while killing cartel members and blur into speed. Even if someone saw me, they'd only describe a cartel killer. No Brandon, no Superman.
There's the clinic, doors open, nurses passing by, but I paid them no mind. I strode down the corridor, quick but confident. People around me stood like they were in slow motion, their movements frozen. I moved at superspeed, and the sensation brought no anxiety or fear—just focus. I couldn't afford to be nervous.
Mom was waiting. My Tori. I hadn't seen her in so long.
The corridor's light was soft but cold, as clinics always are. White walls reflecting bright light gave the place a sterility I hated. I couldn't get used to it. Even the air felt different—stripped of anything extraneous, as if breathing could harm something vital, something fragile.
The building was full of people, but they stood frozen, as if time around me had melted away. All these people—doctors, patients, their families—looked like statues waiting for something. I knew it was my speed. My gift and curse at once. I couldn't save…
But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. All I knew was Mom was waiting in her room, and I had to be there.
I could hear their breathing. Their hearts. It was so quiet that sounds normally unnoticed became obvious. Even the faintest rustles. I couldn't stop to observe them closely. I had to keep going. Passing by, I ignored details. All these people, their faces, their expressions—didn't matter. I knew they stood frozen, but they weren't my concern. Only her. Only Tori. And there I was at the door. A white plaque with the room number. I placed my hand on the handle, and the moment my fingers touched it, I almost smelled her. Mixed with medicine and bleach, but still familiar. It was her.
The door opened easily, as if someone had cracked it for me. I stepped inside.
She lay on the bed, staring blankly. At the critical moment, I froze like an idiot. I didn't move; I just stood and looked at her. So hard.
Tori wasn't as I remembered. Her face was gaunt, pale, but still carried that same strength it always had. That was her trait—no matter the trials, she never lost her inner fire. I'd seen her younger, and now, with her face scarred by wounds, I still felt that same unbreakable will. She didn't yet know she'd lost her husband. But the main thing was that she survived. I stepped forward. She seemed to have aged…
"Sorry I took so long," was all I could say. "Sorry I couldn't save him. Or you. Sorry…"
The vial slipped into my hand, and lifting the body of the only woman who mattered in this world, I carried her to the bathroom. Time to wake up.
---
"Where's all this joy in your soul, darling? Something good happen?"
"Oh, you can't imagine how much."
A minute of silence:
"You know you don't have to wait for me to ask every time, right?"
"But it's more fun this way."
"God, what a wonder… So, what happened? Tell me while I've got a free minute. Amenadiel's tearing things up, demanding more soldiers."
"Make more, doesn't matter. My General's reborn!"
"Wow, such joy." His voice held little joy. More like none. "Which one? The dumb but strong one, or the smart but weak one? Or the…"
"Now, honey, how can you say that… Fine, fine. The first. But hey, he's not dumb!"
"Right, right, only the smartest being alive could fall into Mentat's hands for him to poke around in your boy's soul."
"When he returns to me, I'll fix his problem. So, shh."
"My lips are sealed."
"Ohh, my poor General, physically immeasurably strong, but mentally so weak… A being who can kill gods with his fingers and snap dragons' spines can't overcome simple mind control. What a twist of fate. My General of Might should be perfect. Wonder where he is now? Back in his world, as I ordered my servant, or did he break the control? So intriguing."
"That's a 'when' that could take millions of years, darling, and our war's happening right now, so maybe…"
"No, no. A million years more or less, what's the difference? He'll come back to me. It's his nature. As for needing soldiers, find others. My General's not disposable. He's unique."
"Like the other three."
"Exactly."
---
And in a world full of heroes and villains, one of the smartest men on the planet held two vials. One with red blood, the other with gray. They gleamed under the lamp, sending shivers down the holder's spine.
"Interesting…"
Said the scientist and head of one of the planet's most powerful high-tech conglomerates, LexCorp.
---