Another Time…
Amongst the hollowed ruins of a fallen city, Kor-Zod had never known that silence could be deafening. They had come here to save a world, they had found only death.
In the end, he could only bring himself to voice one observation, an accusation that had for far too long gone unspoken, “You’re mad.”
“Once, perhaps,” Ro-El confessed, his manner calm as he stood behind his custodian, eyeing his surroundings with an air or resignation. He was weary, his wrists bound together and his freedom a distant memory. He had lived too long, longer than most of his unique lineage, he had experienced too much failure to still care. “In a former iteration. Now I’m quite sane.”
“Sane?” Kor-Zod’s lip curled as his posture tensed, lowering himself down to kneel amongst the dirt. It was dry as he ran his fingers through it, cold. He found a skull, one of the few that remained intact, and as he lifted it to gaze upon its hollow sockets the Kryptonian felt his stomach lurch. For all the countless variables of an infinite universe, how could this distant orb so far from his people’s origin be so… familiar?
It made him ill, it made him sickened at the thought.
Just how many generations had this remanent been playing God?
Anger gripped him and he tossed the skull aside, unable to meet its lifeless, accusatory gaze for even a moment longer, letting it roll to the feet of Ro-El.
“There is nothing sane about this.”
The captive paid it little mind at first, before looking down, the rictus grin of the empty skull appraising him with a glare. It did not seem to faze him, Ro-El’s tone remaining level, “You should respect the dead.”
Kor-Zod was on his feet, turning on his captive without warning and crossing the short distance between them with swift strides. He grabbed the slighter man by his chin, near lifting him off his feet and squeezing, the custodian’s scowl flashing with anger.
“Another word,” he sneered, “and you will be among them!”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Ro-El’s reply was calm, regardless of the implied threat and the pressure being applied to his features. “I will be back, a new iteration. My work isn’t done.”
“It should never have been started,” Kor-Zod shoved his captive to the floor, the old man dropping to his knees and staying there.
With but a single hesitation, Ro-El lifted the skull that lay before him, looking the familiar curvature of its dome with the eye of a craftsman. It was so close. What deviation had occurred to knock the entire species off course, what fault in the engineering?
Given more freedom to study…
“It’s over,” Kor-Zod declared, turning from his prisoner to look back across the shattered cityscape. He felt weary, aggression bleeding from his every pore. He had been on this trail for too long, and it had accounted for far too little. It was supposed to be dawn, the horizon didn’t look it.
“Your World Engine had been discovered;” he continued; his throat dry. “It’s being dismantled as we speak. The days of you haunting us from the grave are done.”
It took Kor-Zod longer than he would have liked to realise that his captive was laughing. It wasn’t loud, scarcely even a sound above an utterance, and it was more rueful than it was mocking.
“Do you find this amusing?” the Kryptonian questioned, his tone becoming low and dangerous.
“No,” the twenty-ninth iteration of Ro-El shook his head, cradling the skull of his failures between his open palms. “I find this tragic.”
He looked up then, matching his custodians glare, watching as understanding slowly dawned behind Kor-Zod’s weary eyes at the magnitude of the task before him.
“Krypton is doomed,” Ro-El explained, getting to his feet. “You know that I believe it, and now you have seen to what lengths I will go to preserve us. You found my World Engine?” he questioned, looking about the ruins around them.
“Once, the House of Zod did not suffer fools,” the Kryptonian explained, dropping the skull to the ground like the failure that it was. This world had been found wanting, and its people had been scoured clean because of it.
“Do you really believe that I would have stopped at one?”
Amongst the hollowed ruins of a fallen city, Kor-Zod had never known that silence could be deafening. They had come here to save a world, they had found only death.
In the end, he could only bring himself to voice one observation, an accusation that had for far too long gone unspoken, “You’re mad.”
“Once, perhaps,” Ro-El confessed, his manner calm as he stood behind his custodian, eyeing his surroundings with an air or resignation. He was weary, his wrists bound together and his freedom a distant memory. He had lived too long, longer than most of his unique lineage, he had experienced too much failure to still care. “In a former iteration. Now I’m quite sane.”
“Sane?” Kor-Zod’s lip curled as his posture tensed, lowering himself down to kneel amongst the dirt. It was dry as he ran his fingers through it, cold. He found a skull, one of the few that remained intact, and as he lifted it to gaze upon its hollow sockets the Kryptonian felt his stomach lurch. For all the countless variables of an infinite universe, how could this distant orb so far from his people’s origin be so… familiar?
It made him ill, it made him sickened at the thought.
Just how many generations had this remanent been playing God?
Anger gripped him and he tossed the skull aside, unable to meet its lifeless, accusatory gaze for even a moment longer, letting it roll to the feet of Ro-El.
“There is nothing sane about this.”
The captive paid it little mind at first, before looking down, the rictus grin of the empty skull appraising him with a glare. It did not seem to faze him, Ro-El’s tone remaining level, “You should respect the dead.”
Kor-Zod was on his feet, turning on his captive without warning and crossing the short distance between them with swift strides. He grabbed the slighter man by his chin, near lifting him off his feet and squeezing, the custodian’s scowl flashing with anger.
“Another word,” he sneered, “and you will be among them!”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Ro-El’s reply was calm, regardless of the implied threat and the pressure being applied to his features. “I will be back, a new iteration. My work isn’t done.”
“It should never have been started,” Kor-Zod shoved his captive to the floor, the old man dropping to his knees and staying there.
With but a single hesitation, Ro-El lifted the skull that lay before him, looking the familiar curvature of its dome with the eye of a craftsman. It was so close. What deviation had occurred to knock the entire species off course, what fault in the engineering?
Given more freedom to study…
“It’s over,” Kor-Zod declared, turning from his prisoner to look back across the shattered cityscape. He felt weary, aggression bleeding from his every pore. He had been on this trail for too long, and it had accounted for far too little. It was supposed to be dawn, the horizon didn’t look it.
“Your World Engine had been discovered;” he continued; his throat dry. “It’s being dismantled as we speak. The days of you haunting us from the grave are done.”
It took Kor-Zod longer than he would have liked to realise that his captive was laughing. It wasn’t loud, scarcely even a sound above an utterance, and it was more rueful than it was mocking.
“Do you find this amusing?” the Kryptonian questioned, his tone becoming low and dangerous.
“No,” the twenty-ninth iteration of Ro-El shook his head, cradling the skull of his failures between his open palms. “I find this tragic.”
He looked up then, matching his custodians glare, watching as understanding slowly dawned behind Kor-Zod’s weary eyes at the magnitude of the task before him.
“Krypton is doomed,” Ro-El explained, getting to his feet. “You know that I believe it, and now you have seen to what lengths I will go to preserve us. You found my World Engine?” he questioned, looking about the ruins around them.
“Once, the House of Zod did not suffer fools,” the Kryptonian explained, dropping the skull to the ground like the failure that it was. This world had been found wanting, and its people had been scoured clean because of it.
“Do you really believe that I would have stopped at one?”
ISSUE 14
“ERADICATION MANDATE”
CONCLUSION
BY
EMMA WOODS
“ERADICATION MANDATE”
CONCLUSION
BY
EMMA WOODS
National City…
Now…
Even from within the confines of the World Engine, Kara Zor-El could hear the planet cracking. She could feel it vibrating through her bones, an entire people screaming as their world was remade and their species overwritten. She ground her teeth together, straining at her restraints, the otherworldly, mailable metals that made up the walls coiled about her and holding her in place. She could scarcely move, robbed of all leverage, and no amount of struggling could buy her an inch more of it, the floor beneath her feet shaking as her Houses darkest sin was robbing humanity of its rightful future.
With a straggled roar, Kara Zor-El braced her muscle and tensed, flexing every single tendon that she could as her restraints coiled tighter, pulling taunt as a fresh snare circled about her throat. The purple luminance of the vast, World Engines heart flickered and dimmed as further power was rerouted, everything that could be spared dumped into keeping her locked down in one place.
For a single, paralysing moment, as she ground her feet into the floor and heaved, her roar was long lasting and something seemed to be about to give way…
…before something in her back did first, the teenager crying out and dropping down to both knees, exhaustion seizing every inch of her physique as the coils about her body sensed her momentary weakness and wrapped tighter. With arms forcibly stretched out wide and her head pulled back, the blonde garbed in the colours of her lineage was rendered paralysed and held captive, a butterfly pinned to carboard as the world burned down around her.
She slumped, unresisting, closing her eyes as she tried to block out the screaming and yet hearing everyone. Kara was no longer sure how many of them were real, and how many of them were memories. They chilled her all the same, they broke her heart like all the rest.
When she spoke, it was barely above a whisper, “You can’t save Krypton.”
“I am remaking it,” Origin replied, scarcely missing a single beat. He had no heart with which to time it, the Obsidian Man and Faceless King towering in stature and stood not ten feet from the Last Daughter of Krypton. He cared no longer for her struggles as he went about his solemn labours, engineering the salvation of a species at the expense of another’s future.
“You’re perverting it!” Kara accused, tears beading the corner of each eye. “You’re taking all that we have left, and drowning it in blood.”
Origin’s manner didn’t shift, “They will be better…”
“They’ll be a lie!” the young woman pressed tersely. “What your making of these people, what you set in motion, they’ll be nothing more than a pale imitation…”
“A recreation…”
“A façade,” Kara exhaled in exasperation. “Children making pretend at being grown ups!!”
“You will see…”
“I already do!!” she snapped, giving voice to a confession that she had not wanted to face. “Every day, I see,” she finished more quietly, her body robbed of all remaining tension, her heart heavy as they truth came spilling out. “It’s like… it’s like looking in a cracked mirror, or a lake, or through a fog. They’re so close, it’s all so close to being home that it hurts. It hurts to look at them and know that it’s all wrong.”
Her eyes opening, she looked to the faceless king, the giant of an artificial man standing with his back to her and, for the moment, ceasing in his endless interactions with a spectrum of light that only he could see. He didn’t interrupt her, the Matriarch of the House of El.
“This isn’t our world, Origin,” she pressed, the Girl of Steel attempting reason, facing the truth of her beliefs head on as a weight was lifted from her shoulders, a burden that she hadn’t known that she carried. “It never was. We’ve interfered too much already, manipulated their course towards a destination that they will never reach.”
She closed her eyes again, hanging her head low, recalling her Houses darkest histories as her mother had taught it, the legacy of Ro-El, the one who’d lost his mind. “It doesn’t work Origin, you’re not the first, there were so many, a stain on our people’s memory that will bever be erased. This, the World Engine, all of it, it’s been done before and it never works.”
For a longer moment, the Faceless King said not a thing, his head tilting the smallest fraction as if searching for some fallacy in her reasoning. There was an absence in his understandings.
There was more than one World Engine…?
“I can…”
“Leave them be!” Kara begged, feeling tired of always being angry, of seeing the world through an impenetrable lens of grief. “This is their world, let them own it, leave them to be whatever it is they’re going to be.”
Origin turned to face her, the Last Daughter of Krypton, the girl who wore the same crest upon her torso that was embezzled across his own. The House of El. Hope.
A shared belief in a better tomorrow.
With a handful of paces, he stood before her, head tilting to one side as he considered the veracity of her sentiment. For long millennia he had existed, never experiencing cause for hesitation. His conclusion was fatalistic, as he’d expected it to be.
“They will fall.”
“Then we catch them!” Kara looked up; eyes of sapphire lit up with conviction as she pushed up to one knee. “We catch them when they fall. That’s all that we can do. That’s all that we should do.”
Origin didn’t answer.
Not at first…
“No,” the Faceless King took a step back and shock his approximation of a head, perhaps echoing the slightest hint of regret. If it existed, it was fleeting, Origin’s manner returning to stoic, towering over the Girl of Steel.
“I can save Krypton,” the Obsidian Man resumed, Kara’s pleas having found no purchase as the World Engine resumed its tireless work, terraforming a species into a different one. Evolution by way of Genocide.
“I can remake Krypton,” he asserted as the planet cracked and roiled so far beneath them. “I can make them better. I can make them right. You can not save them, Kara Zor-El,” he paused, looking down at her. “You never could.”
Supergirl had but one answer, one that echoed from the lips of her mother on the last day of a doomed world, her eyes flashing violently from brilliant blue to violent, blinding crimson…
“I have to try…”
Now…
Even from within the confines of the World Engine, Kara Zor-El could hear the planet cracking. She could feel it vibrating through her bones, an entire people screaming as their world was remade and their species overwritten. She ground her teeth together, straining at her restraints, the otherworldly, mailable metals that made up the walls coiled about her and holding her in place. She could scarcely move, robbed of all leverage, and no amount of struggling could buy her an inch more of it, the floor beneath her feet shaking as her Houses darkest sin was robbing humanity of its rightful future.
With a straggled roar, Kara Zor-El braced her muscle and tensed, flexing every single tendon that she could as her restraints coiled tighter, pulling taunt as a fresh snare circled about her throat. The purple luminance of the vast, World Engines heart flickered and dimmed as further power was rerouted, everything that could be spared dumped into keeping her locked down in one place.
For a single, paralysing moment, as she ground her feet into the floor and heaved, her roar was long lasting and something seemed to be about to give way…
…before something in her back did first, the teenager crying out and dropping down to both knees, exhaustion seizing every inch of her physique as the coils about her body sensed her momentary weakness and wrapped tighter. With arms forcibly stretched out wide and her head pulled back, the blonde garbed in the colours of her lineage was rendered paralysed and held captive, a butterfly pinned to carboard as the world burned down around her.
She slumped, unresisting, closing her eyes as she tried to block out the screaming and yet hearing everyone. Kara was no longer sure how many of them were real, and how many of them were memories. They chilled her all the same, they broke her heart like all the rest.
When she spoke, it was barely above a whisper, “You can’t save Krypton.”
“I am remaking it,” Origin replied, scarcely missing a single beat. He had no heart with which to time it, the Obsidian Man and Faceless King towering in stature and stood not ten feet from the Last Daughter of Krypton. He cared no longer for her struggles as he went about his solemn labours, engineering the salvation of a species at the expense of another’s future.
“You’re perverting it!” Kara accused, tears beading the corner of each eye. “You’re taking all that we have left, and drowning it in blood.”
Origin’s manner didn’t shift, “They will be better…”
“They’ll be a lie!” the young woman pressed tersely. “What your making of these people, what you set in motion, they’ll be nothing more than a pale imitation…”
“A recreation…”
“A façade,” Kara exhaled in exasperation. “Children making pretend at being grown ups!!”
“You will see…”
“I already do!!” she snapped, giving voice to a confession that she had not wanted to face. “Every day, I see,” she finished more quietly, her body robbed of all remaining tension, her heart heavy as they truth came spilling out. “It’s like… it’s like looking in a cracked mirror, or a lake, or through a fog. They’re so close, it’s all so close to being home that it hurts. It hurts to look at them and know that it’s all wrong.”
Her eyes opening, she looked to the faceless king, the giant of an artificial man standing with his back to her and, for the moment, ceasing in his endless interactions with a spectrum of light that only he could see. He didn’t interrupt her, the Matriarch of the House of El.
“This isn’t our world, Origin,” she pressed, the Girl of Steel attempting reason, facing the truth of her beliefs head on as a weight was lifted from her shoulders, a burden that she hadn’t known that she carried. “It never was. We’ve interfered too much already, manipulated their course towards a destination that they will never reach.”
She closed her eyes again, hanging her head low, recalling her Houses darkest histories as her mother had taught it, the legacy of Ro-El, the one who’d lost his mind. “It doesn’t work Origin, you’re not the first, there were so many, a stain on our people’s memory that will bever be erased. This, the World Engine, all of it, it’s been done before and it never works.”
For a longer moment, the Faceless King said not a thing, his head tilting the smallest fraction as if searching for some fallacy in her reasoning. There was an absence in his understandings.
There was more than one World Engine…?
“I can…”
“Leave them be!” Kara begged, feeling tired of always being angry, of seeing the world through an impenetrable lens of grief. “This is their world, let them own it, leave them to be whatever it is they’re going to be.”
Origin turned to face her, the Last Daughter of Krypton, the girl who wore the same crest upon her torso that was embezzled across his own. The House of El. Hope.
A shared belief in a better tomorrow.
With a handful of paces, he stood before her, head tilting to one side as he considered the veracity of her sentiment. For long millennia he had existed, never experiencing cause for hesitation. His conclusion was fatalistic, as he’d expected it to be.
“They will fall.”
“Then we catch them!” Kara looked up; eyes of sapphire lit up with conviction as she pushed up to one knee. “We catch them when they fall. That’s all that we can do. That’s all that we should do.”
Origin didn’t answer.
Not at first…
“No,” the Faceless King took a step back and shock his approximation of a head, perhaps echoing the slightest hint of regret. If it existed, it was fleeting, Origin’s manner returning to stoic, towering over the Girl of Steel.
“I can save Krypton,” the Obsidian Man resumed, Kara’s pleas having found no purchase as the World Engine resumed its tireless work, terraforming a species into a different one. Evolution by way of Genocide.
“I can remake Krypton,” he asserted as the planet cracked and roiled so far beneath them. “I can make them better. I can make them right. You can not save them, Kara Zor-El,” he paused, looking down at her. “You never could.”
Supergirl had but one answer, one that echoed from the lips of her mother on the last day of a doomed world, her eyes flashing violently from brilliant blue to violent, blinding crimson…
“I have to try…”
**********
Deputy Director Linda Lee was in an exceedingly foul mood, and not only because the world was ending.
When but one of the Eradicators had penetrated the very heart of the DEO, they had been forced into an immediate evacuation, most the command staff of the Earth’s first line of defence against the extra-terrestrial cut down where they stood. As the Deputy Director, Linda’s survival had been deemed a priority and, as it turned out when running for one’s life, being eight months pregnant was a considerable detriment.
Personally, she blamed her husband.
It seemed fair.
“Any word on the Director?” she demanded to know, sat uncomfortably in the back of mobile command centre that was currently, by her best estimation, careening near recklessly down one of the cities highways. By in large, mobility had become their only protection, staying one step ahead of their hunters while the city crumbled down around them.
“Nothing from Director Luthor,” one of her aides dutifully reported from the side of a holographic projection of the immediate crisis zone, one that bucked and fizzled with every severe jostle of the truck. Linda didn’t recognise her, field promotions had occurred rapidly in the last hour, most of the people she knew were likely dead.
“Damn it, Lena,” Linda muttered under her breath. “This is what I get for putting my feet up.”
“We have confirmed reports that the Eradicators have been taking prisoners,” a second aide ducked in from a secondary compartment to join them in the primary hub of the mobile command unit.
“Prisoners?” Linda clenched her teeth in response to her unborn child kicking at the confines of her womb. She pushed past the discomfort, forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand. “What the hell for?” she questioned. Up until now, as far as they were aware, the Eradicators had been doing nothing more than living up to their namesake.
“Unknown…”
“Well, make it known, damn it!” Linda cursed, furious at how unprepared that the organisation that she worked for had been for this crisis.
“Deputy Director,” the first aide got up from her chair, pressing the earpiece of her headset closer to her head. “We have a confirmed sighting of a Kryptonian in our airspace!”
“Finally!” Linda exhaled sharply, grimacing as her unborn child rolled about and kicked. “Is it Superman?”
“I,” the aide hesitated, “I don’t think….”
“ArrrrrhhhhhHHHSHIT!!” Linda suddenly released the loud curse, clutching at her stomach with both hands. “Shit, shit, not now you little bastard!”
“Deputy Director?”
“My water broke!!” Linda just barely prevented herself from screaming, clenching her teeth shut as she went into her first contractions. “God damn it, I’m giving bir…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, nor did anyone have time to render aid, something colliding with the rear of their transport to flip their entire world into spiral…
When but one of the Eradicators had penetrated the very heart of the DEO, they had been forced into an immediate evacuation, most the command staff of the Earth’s first line of defence against the extra-terrestrial cut down where they stood. As the Deputy Director, Linda’s survival had been deemed a priority and, as it turned out when running for one’s life, being eight months pregnant was a considerable detriment.
Personally, she blamed her husband.
It seemed fair.
“Any word on the Director?” she demanded to know, sat uncomfortably in the back of mobile command centre that was currently, by her best estimation, careening near recklessly down one of the cities highways. By in large, mobility had become their only protection, staying one step ahead of their hunters while the city crumbled down around them.
“Nothing from Director Luthor,” one of her aides dutifully reported from the side of a holographic projection of the immediate crisis zone, one that bucked and fizzled with every severe jostle of the truck. Linda didn’t recognise her, field promotions had occurred rapidly in the last hour, most of the people she knew were likely dead.
“Damn it, Lena,” Linda muttered under her breath. “This is what I get for putting my feet up.”
“We have confirmed reports that the Eradicators have been taking prisoners,” a second aide ducked in from a secondary compartment to join them in the primary hub of the mobile command unit.
“Prisoners?” Linda clenched her teeth in response to her unborn child kicking at the confines of her womb. She pushed past the discomfort, forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand. “What the hell for?” she questioned. Up until now, as far as they were aware, the Eradicators had been doing nothing more than living up to their namesake.
“Unknown…”
“Well, make it known, damn it!” Linda cursed, furious at how unprepared that the organisation that she worked for had been for this crisis.
“Deputy Director,” the first aide got up from her chair, pressing the earpiece of her headset closer to her head. “We have a confirmed sighting of a Kryptonian in our airspace!”
“Finally!” Linda exhaled sharply, grimacing as her unborn child rolled about and kicked. “Is it Superman?”
“I,” the aide hesitated, “I don’t think….”
“ArrrrrhhhhhHHHSHIT!!” Linda suddenly released the loud curse, clutching at her stomach with both hands. “Shit, shit, not now you little bastard!”
“Deputy Director?”
“My water broke!!” Linda just barely prevented herself from screaming, clenching her teeth shut as she went into her first contractions. “God damn it, I’m giving bir…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, nor did anyone have time to render aid, something colliding with the rear of their transport to flip their entire world into spiral…
**********
Kara Zor-El was free and, had he been biological, Origin surmised that he would likely already be dead. Hit with enough force to atomise mortal men, the Faceless King had been hurled from his World Engine by Supergirl’s heat vision, the unrestrained blast smashing him through walls until he was ejected to the outside world and into the skies high above National City.
For a brief moment, he seemed to hang idly in the air, his Eradicators obeying his will to coral humanity towards assimilation or deletion in the streets below, just as they were the world over. As the Earth itself terraformed around them, the sea of humanity collectively ran screaming to their fate. His moment of calm was short lived, Kara appearing in his field of view to finish what she had started, freed from her imprisonment due to his momentary distraction and streaking through the air like a bolt of lightning.
Invigorated the moment her Kryptonian genes were greeted by this systems yellow sun, she sped up in the seconds before she struck Origin across his approximation of a jaw, the sound of the blow sounding like a blast of thunder. Like a meteor, the artificial man plummeted from the sky before connecting with the sidewalk, the ground itself practically exploding as those nearby, already fearing for their wellbeing, shouted in panic and scattered for what little perceived safety could be located.
Origin pulled himself from the wreckage, seemingly unfazed and looking little worse for wear, his consciousness still spread out across his drones over thousands of engagements, altering the fates of billions even as he duelled with a Girl of Steel. Mimicking the most basic of human behaviours, he looked slowly from one side to the other, expressionless and utterly devoid of empathy as families did what they could to huddle from the madness.
“Look at them,” he said calmly, behaving as though his own safety were not in jeopardy. Kara landed barely twenty feet in front of him, cracking the pavement beneath her boots and practically glowing. She looked radiant, filled with fresh vitality, infused with radiation that supercharged her Kryptonian physiology well beyond the bounds of mortal understanding.
Origin didn’t flinch, “Even in the face of their extinction, they cower.”
Kara shook her head, the wind rippling her cloak as she stepped closer, the people in hiding witnessing the arrival of the Last Daughter and Krypton and feeling the first stirrings of something other than fear.
“You weren’t there when Krypton died,” she said with audible regret. “We were no better,” she hesitated before continuing. “I was no better.”
“The testimony of a traumatised child?” Origin turned his featureless gaze back the Maiden of Might striding towards him. “You are an unreliable narra…”
“Enough!” Supergirl snapped, crossing the final distance between them in the blink of an eye, accelerating to superhuman velocity and again connecting with a right fist to the automations jaw. The impact was audible for blocks away, the shockwave shattering the glass in several building as Origin was sent careening backwards through three separate cars. The last one exploded, lighting up the surroundings in a flash of violence and bathing the artificial man in flame.
“I am done reasoning with you.”
Origin emerged from the fiery wreckage with a heavy tread, the smooth shell of the obsidian man now glowing from the rapid spike in temperature. Imperiously, he advanced back towards Supergirl, his tone carrying the smallest note of admonishment, “Your cousin would not approve.”
“Kal isn’t here,” Kara declared, narrowing her gaze as she sped up again, closing the distance between them rapidly as her temper got the best of her.
Origin, however, was ready, catching her fist before she could connect and stopping her short. He spared her the briefest regard before squeezing the girl’s hand and forcing a surprised, involuntary yelp from the young woman as he pushed the bones close to the point of shattering. Instead, with her briefly surprised by pain, he yanked forwards on the limb and pulled Kara into a fierce haymaker of his own, connecting across her cheek with enough force to damn near knock her senseless.
Reeling, Supergirl dropped to the pavement. Before she could even attempt to clear her head, Origin stamped down on the back of her cranium, driving her face deep into the concrete as the rest of her body recoiled.
“That much,” the Faceless King remarked calmly, grinding his heel against the back of her exposed neck. “Is evident.”
For a brief moment, he seemed to hang idly in the air, his Eradicators obeying his will to coral humanity towards assimilation or deletion in the streets below, just as they were the world over. As the Earth itself terraformed around them, the sea of humanity collectively ran screaming to their fate. His moment of calm was short lived, Kara appearing in his field of view to finish what she had started, freed from her imprisonment due to his momentary distraction and streaking through the air like a bolt of lightning.
Invigorated the moment her Kryptonian genes were greeted by this systems yellow sun, she sped up in the seconds before she struck Origin across his approximation of a jaw, the sound of the blow sounding like a blast of thunder. Like a meteor, the artificial man plummeted from the sky before connecting with the sidewalk, the ground itself practically exploding as those nearby, already fearing for their wellbeing, shouted in panic and scattered for what little perceived safety could be located.
Origin pulled himself from the wreckage, seemingly unfazed and looking little worse for wear, his consciousness still spread out across his drones over thousands of engagements, altering the fates of billions even as he duelled with a Girl of Steel. Mimicking the most basic of human behaviours, he looked slowly from one side to the other, expressionless and utterly devoid of empathy as families did what they could to huddle from the madness.
“Look at them,” he said calmly, behaving as though his own safety were not in jeopardy. Kara landed barely twenty feet in front of him, cracking the pavement beneath her boots and practically glowing. She looked radiant, filled with fresh vitality, infused with radiation that supercharged her Kryptonian physiology well beyond the bounds of mortal understanding.
Origin didn’t flinch, “Even in the face of their extinction, they cower.”
Kara shook her head, the wind rippling her cloak as she stepped closer, the people in hiding witnessing the arrival of the Last Daughter and Krypton and feeling the first stirrings of something other than fear.
“You weren’t there when Krypton died,” she said with audible regret. “We were no better,” she hesitated before continuing. “I was no better.”
“The testimony of a traumatised child?” Origin turned his featureless gaze back the Maiden of Might striding towards him. “You are an unreliable narra…”
“Enough!” Supergirl snapped, crossing the final distance between them in the blink of an eye, accelerating to superhuman velocity and again connecting with a right fist to the automations jaw. The impact was audible for blocks away, the shockwave shattering the glass in several building as Origin was sent careening backwards through three separate cars. The last one exploded, lighting up the surroundings in a flash of violence and bathing the artificial man in flame.
“I am done reasoning with you.”
Origin emerged from the fiery wreckage with a heavy tread, the smooth shell of the obsidian man now glowing from the rapid spike in temperature. Imperiously, he advanced back towards Supergirl, his tone carrying the smallest note of admonishment, “Your cousin would not approve.”
“Kal isn’t here,” Kara declared, narrowing her gaze as she sped up again, closing the distance between them rapidly as her temper got the best of her.
Origin, however, was ready, catching her fist before she could connect and stopping her short. He spared her the briefest regard before squeezing the girl’s hand and forcing a surprised, involuntary yelp from the young woman as he pushed the bones close to the point of shattering. Instead, with her briefly surprised by pain, he yanked forwards on the limb and pulled Kara into a fierce haymaker of his own, connecting across her cheek with enough force to damn near knock her senseless.
Reeling, Supergirl dropped to the pavement. Before she could even attempt to clear her head, Origin stamped down on the back of her cranium, driving her face deep into the concrete as the rest of her body recoiled.
“That much,” the Faceless King remarked calmly, grinding his heel against the back of her exposed neck. “Is evident.”
**********
The Fortress of Solitude…
Few were the times that the Man of Steel was forced to stand idle, Superman a prisoner in his own fortress as he and his son were being bathed in red sun radiation. It robbed them of their powers, rendering them as mortal as any man, and utterly incapable of interceding in the cataclysm.
Origin had lured them to his sanctuary, and now the relic of Krypton’s past had co-opted its systems, locking the doors and keeping them from interfering from what must be done. Origin would preserve the pure blooded Kryptonians, whether they wanted to be or not.
Superman’s calm, however, was at odds with the global catastrophe that they were being allowed to witness.
Power Boy was pacing, still believing there must be a means for them break their way out, growing increasingly frustrated by his sudden impotency.
“Chris,” Superman stood tall, standing before a console with his palm slightly upraised.
Power Boy stopped, prompted by his father, “Dad?”
“Get ready,” Superman advised, his eyes moving from one projection to the other, the Eradicators swarming across every country on the Earth and passing out their ultimatum. Propagate or Eradicate, there was no in-between, and far too many fell into the latter.
One was too many.
“Get ready.”
Power Boy marched to his father’s side, following his fathers gaze and wondering what he was missing.
“I told you son,” Superman smiled, a slight upturning of his lips, sharp eyes spotting the miniscule reduction in productivity, the growing hesitation in Origins forces. The lag.
The most microscopic of inattentions…
“Patience is its own reward.”
All at once, there circumstances seemed to change, the lights dimming to complete darkness and power throughout the Fortress fluctuating wildly. Something slipped, the collar had been loosened and, in a moment of distraction, the defensive AI of Superman’s sanctuary was back at war with the World Engines.
It would only last a second, Origin would snatch back control, but that was all the time the Last Son of Krypton would ever need, slamming his hand down on the console, and the Fortress of Solitude lit up with the light of Earth’s yellow sun…
Few were the times that the Man of Steel was forced to stand idle, Superman a prisoner in his own fortress as he and his son were being bathed in red sun radiation. It robbed them of their powers, rendering them as mortal as any man, and utterly incapable of interceding in the cataclysm.
Origin had lured them to his sanctuary, and now the relic of Krypton’s past had co-opted its systems, locking the doors and keeping them from interfering from what must be done. Origin would preserve the pure blooded Kryptonians, whether they wanted to be or not.
Superman’s calm, however, was at odds with the global catastrophe that they were being allowed to witness.
Power Boy was pacing, still believing there must be a means for them break their way out, growing increasingly frustrated by his sudden impotency.
“Chris,” Superman stood tall, standing before a console with his palm slightly upraised.
Power Boy stopped, prompted by his father, “Dad?”
“Get ready,” Superman advised, his eyes moving from one projection to the other, the Eradicators swarming across every country on the Earth and passing out their ultimatum. Propagate or Eradicate, there was no in-between, and far too many fell into the latter.
One was too many.
“Get ready.”
Power Boy marched to his father’s side, following his fathers gaze and wondering what he was missing.
“I told you son,” Superman smiled, a slight upturning of his lips, sharp eyes spotting the miniscule reduction in productivity, the growing hesitation in Origins forces. The lag.
The most microscopic of inattentions…
“Patience is its own reward.”
All at once, there circumstances seemed to change, the lights dimming to complete darkness and power throughout the Fortress fluctuating wildly. Something slipped, the collar had been loosened and, in a moment of distraction, the defensive AI of Superman’s sanctuary was back at war with the World Engines.
It would only last a second, Origin would snatch back control, but that was all the time the Last Son of Krypton would ever need, slamming his hand down on the console, and the Fortress of Solitude lit up with the light of Earth’s yellow sun…
**********
Almost languidly, Origin tossed Supergirl aside, the Faceless King throwing the Girl of Steel through the air as if disposing of so much trash. Methodical in his movements, he watched as she crashed back down into the concrete, asphalt obliterated and forming into a crater as she skidded for several metres.
Kara recovered before her momentum had come to a natural stop, grimacing as she rolled backwards onto her shoulders and tumbled her way up into a crouch, her cloak billowing as it caught a gust of wind. She launched herself forwards, the air cracking with the speed of her acceleration as she flew directly towards her towering adversary.
Origin betrayed nothing as he dodged sideways from her first blow, doing likewise with the second before blocking the third, Kara hissing at the jarring pain that ran the length of her forearm.
“Predictable,” Origin observed with a dispassionate evaluation, deflecting another strike before retaliating, slamming his clenched fist clean against the young woman’s cheek, sending her reeling. “Clumsy, immature,” he grabbed her by the hair and then, after pulling on it tightly, he punched her in the face with enough force to be heard the city over.
Again, Supergirl was propelled backwards through the air, sent crashing to the ground with her ears ringing, her vision blurring at the edges as she felt a trickling of blood emerging from somewhere on her features.
“Conviction without focus,” Origin criticized as though admonishing an unruly infant. “You are a child, but in time you will see, we will…”
He paused, the Obsidian Man tilting his approximation of a cranium to one side, his consciousness spread across a worlds worth of bodies as he spotted the anomaly, an unfortunate occurrence at the Fortress. He had been distracted…
A mistake that he repeated as, with a thunderclap of displaced air, Kara Zor-El threw herself into flight and, with a cry that welled up from deep beneath a mountain of grief, she slammed her right fist into his torso with unimaginable power. The shockwave alone wrought considerable damage to the surrounding buildings as Origin, unprepared, was sent hurtling backwards, grinding his feet into the ground until he slowly came to a renewed stop.
“We, shall do nothing,” Supergirl scolded, standing tall and undiminished, imperial in her baring as she stood some yards away. “We, shall leave them be,” she commanded, her manner regal. “And you,” she narrowed her sapphire gaze, “shall refer to me by my Title. I am Kara Zor-El,” she stated. “The Last Daughter of Krypton, Matriarch of the House of El,” she proclaimed. “And I,” she turned her gaze down slightly, Origin oddly compelled to follow her example to look upon his torso, feeling the first hint of surprise in his existence to find the crest embezzled across his torso, the shield of the House of El, had been cracked from top to bottom.
“I cast you out.”
“You…”
“No,” Kara narrowed her stern gaze before, once more, launching herself forwards into the air, crossing the distance between herself and her foe with a blinding blur of motion, colliding into his larger frame with terrific strength and taking them both sailing upwards into the air. “I told you,” she affirmed, accelerating to unfathomable speeds as she carried Origin skywards, the air itself heating up around them as they pierced the cloud cover like a bullet. “I’m done reasoning.”
They hit the atmosphere with a bang and, all too quickly, the two remnants of a dead world were floating in the void. Without waiting for him to recover, and without a hint of regret, bathed in the direct sunlight of Earths yellow star, Supergirl rammed his fingers deep into the artificial man’s cranium and dug them deep into his forehead. Grip secured, Kara yanked back sharply, ripping the machines approximation of a head clean off his torso, ruthlessly rendering her family’s darkest sin inert.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, watching what remained of him tumble into the void…
Kara recovered before her momentum had come to a natural stop, grimacing as she rolled backwards onto her shoulders and tumbled her way up into a crouch, her cloak billowing as it caught a gust of wind. She launched herself forwards, the air cracking with the speed of her acceleration as she flew directly towards her towering adversary.
Origin betrayed nothing as he dodged sideways from her first blow, doing likewise with the second before blocking the third, Kara hissing at the jarring pain that ran the length of her forearm.
“Predictable,” Origin observed with a dispassionate evaluation, deflecting another strike before retaliating, slamming his clenched fist clean against the young woman’s cheek, sending her reeling. “Clumsy, immature,” he grabbed her by the hair and then, after pulling on it tightly, he punched her in the face with enough force to be heard the city over.
Again, Supergirl was propelled backwards through the air, sent crashing to the ground with her ears ringing, her vision blurring at the edges as she felt a trickling of blood emerging from somewhere on her features.
“Conviction without focus,” Origin criticized as though admonishing an unruly infant. “You are a child, but in time you will see, we will…”
He paused, the Obsidian Man tilting his approximation of a cranium to one side, his consciousness spread across a worlds worth of bodies as he spotted the anomaly, an unfortunate occurrence at the Fortress. He had been distracted…
A mistake that he repeated as, with a thunderclap of displaced air, Kara Zor-El threw herself into flight and, with a cry that welled up from deep beneath a mountain of grief, she slammed her right fist into his torso with unimaginable power. The shockwave alone wrought considerable damage to the surrounding buildings as Origin, unprepared, was sent hurtling backwards, grinding his feet into the ground until he slowly came to a renewed stop.
“We, shall do nothing,” Supergirl scolded, standing tall and undiminished, imperial in her baring as she stood some yards away. “We, shall leave them be,” she commanded, her manner regal. “And you,” she narrowed her sapphire gaze, “shall refer to me by my Title. I am Kara Zor-El,” she stated. “The Last Daughter of Krypton, Matriarch of the House of El,” she proclaimed. “And I,” she turned her gaze down slightly, Origin oddly compelled to follow her example to look upon his torso, feeling the first hint of surprise in his existence to find the crest embezzled across his torso, the shield of the House of El, had been cracked from top to bottom.
“I cast you out.”
“You…”
“No,” Kara narrowed her stern gaze before, once more, launching herself forwards into the air, crossing the distance between herself and her foe with a blinding blur of motion, colliding into his larger frame with terrific strength and taking them both sailing upwards into the air. “I told you,” she affirmed, accelerating to unfathomable speeds as she carried Origin skywards, the air itself heating up around them as they pierced the cloud cover like a bullet. “I’m done reasoning.”
They hit the atmosphere with a bang and, all too quickly, the two remnants of a dead world were floating in the void. Without waiting for him to recover, and without a hint of regret, bathed in the direct sunlight of Earths yellow star, Supergirl rammed his fingers deep into the artificial man’s cranium and dug them deep into his forehead. Grip secured, Kara yanked back sharply, ripping the machines approximation of a head clean off his torso, ruthlessly rendering her family’s darkest sin inert.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, watching what remained of him tumble into the void…
**********
Moments after returning to Earths atmosphere, Origins inactive cranium still clutched in her right hand, Supergirl soon came to realise she was not so much flying as she was falling. Fatigue gripped her, even bathed in the suns soothing radiation and, as the clouds rushed up towards her, she had not the will remaining to slow her building acceleration.
She did not, however, have far to fall as, heralded by a sonic boom, her cousin was there beside her, Superman catching her as though he cradled his own child. He smiled, this God amongst mortal men and, for a few fleeting heartbeats, she had never felt more assured in her whole life.
“Kal,” she grimaced, shaking her head now that she had the chance to gather her bearings. She felt exhausted, emotionally drained from the day’s events, either unburdened by her confessions… or hollowed out by voicing them. She wasn’t sure yet which one was true. “The World Engine?” she voiced in question, pulling away from her cousin and beginning to once again defy this worlds gravity under her own power, although he continued to support her.
“Still active,” he admitted, focusing his vision to observe the world below. “Along with the Eradicators, although their movements have slowed.” He turned his gaze briefly to the appearance of a severed head still in her grasp, “I suspect you’re interrupted Origin’s influence over them.”
“We have to shut it off,” Kara pulled away, grimacing again as she could still hear people screaming. “We can’t let it…”
“Kara,” Superman placed a calming hand on her shoulder, gently keeping her in place. “Take a moment, breath, you need it. Besides,” he looked briefly over his left shoulder and, a second later, a new sonic boom heralded the arrival of a third Kryptonian, Superman’s middle son, Power Boy.
“Chris could do with working out some of his frustrations,” Superman remarked as the teenager tore past them, changing his trajectory towards the Earth and disappearing beneath the cloud cover.
Concentrating her superhuman vision, Supergirl could still track his progress, watching as the young man pierced his way through the World Engine’s outer hull as though he were tearing through tissue paper before smashing his way through its core. The gravity bomb died seconds later and, it seemed to Kara, the world grew deathly silent, the ground ceasing its shaking.
“It’s not over,” Kara shook her head slightly, wishing that it were.
She was so very tired.
“It never is,” Superman admitted with the barest hint of sorrow but, soon enough, his hand found its way back to her shoulder, his very presence a calm amidst the storm. “A better tomorrow is always a day away. Take a moment, Kara,” he reassured before looking downwards. “We can pick up the slack from here.”
And then he was gone, disappearing beneath the cloud cover to save the world below.
Supergirl didn’t follow, not for what felt like a long time, remaining beneath the yellow sun as its radiation recharged her. Almost idly, she lifted the head of Origin to look the Faceless King into what passed as the approximation of its eyes, seeing only her own blurred reflection staring back at her.
When she spoke, it was only for herself.
“What to do with you?”
She did not, however, have far to fall as, heralded by a sonic boom, her cousin was there beside her, Superman catching her as though he cradled his own child. He smiled, this God amongst mortal men and, for a few fleeting heartbeats, she had never felt more assured in her whole life.
“Kal,” she grimaced, shaking her head now that she had the chance to gather her bearings. She felt exhausted, emotionally drained from the day’s events, either unburdened by her confessions… or hollowed out by voicing them. She wasn’t sure yet which one was true. “The World Engine?” she voiced in question, pulling away from her cousin and beginning to once again defy this worlds gravity under her own power, although he continued to support her.
“Still active,” he admitted, focusing his vision to observe the world below. “Along with the Eradicators, although their movements have slowed.” He turned his gaze briefly to the appearance of a severed head still in her grasp, “I suspect you’re interrupted Origin’s influence over them.”
“We have to shut it off,” Kara pulled away, grimacing again as she could still hear people screaming. “We can’t let it…”
“Kara,” Superman placed a calming hand on her shoulder, gently keeping her in place. “Take a moment, breath, you need it. Besides,” he looked briefly over his left shoulder and, a second later, a new sonic boom heralded the arrival of a third Kryptonian, Superman’s middle son, Power Boy.
“Chris could do with working out some of his frustrations,” Superman remarked as the teenager tore past them, changing his trajectory towards the Earth and disappearing beneath the cloud cover.
Concentrating her superhuman vision, Supergirl could still track his progress, watching as the young man pierced his way through the World Engine’s outer hull as though he were tearing through tissue paper before smashing his way through its core. The gravity bomb died seconds later and, it seemed to Kara, the world grew deathly silent, the ground ceasing its shaking.
“It’s not over,” Kara shook her head slightly, wishing that it were.
She was so very tired.
“It never is,” Superman admitted with the barest hint of sorrow but, soon enough, his hand found its way back to her shoulder, his very presence a calm amidst the storm. “A better tomorrow is always a day away. Take a moment, Kara,” he reassured before looking downwards. “We can pick up the slack from here.”
And then he was gone, disappearing beneath the cloud cover to save the world below.
Supergirl didn’t follow, not for what felt like a long time, remaining beneath the yellow sun as its radiation recharged her. Almost idly, she lifted the head of Origin to look the Faceless King into what passed as the approximation of its eyes, seeing only her own blurred reflection staring back at her.
When she spoke, it was only for herself.
“What to do with you?”
**********
Another Time…
Another Place…
Life began for him, as it so often did, with the thought that he was drowning.
He thrashed within his tank, flinches at first and then blows, the man waking submerged in fluid that filled his lungs the moment he took his first breath. Panic was his first experience, a desperate need to survive as his fists slammed against his tight confines, his eyes opening to find only a slithering of light. He screamed, impotent rage in the face of his approaching doom, the inevitably of death, defying the very universe that so callously was so cruel…
Before the door opened to his capsule and the dawn flooded in, the fluid that he had been cocooned in spilling out into the lab and splashing across the floor, the man tumbling after. With a heavy frame, he hit the ground hard, heaving in great gasps of air as he blinked and squinted into the new found light, memories sparking and spilling out into his brain so rapidly he could scarcely understand them, memories that were not his own, downloaded, edited and inherited from years past.
From lives past…
“Sev…” he hacked, mighty lungs expelling air as heavily as he inhaled them. “Seventy-One,” he wheezed with a snarl, his voice deep and raw. “I am seventy-one.”
With a heave, thick arms planted on the floor, he shoved his way up to standing, bones creaking and muscles stretching as he used them for the first time, blinking slowly as he searched the sterile room that, with an itch in his artificial memories, he knew was to be his lab, searching for any reflective surface.
He found one and, with bloodshot eyes, he looked upon features he did not recognise, his face wide and features… poorly formed. A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy… he was a poor rendition of the original, the template lost to the depths of history.
“Ro…” he grunted again, searching for his real name. “Rol, no, Roe, Roel,” he shook his head in frustration, snarling with his thick jaw, some manner of machine chirping for his attention and he ignored it. “Roal, Ro-Al, Rog-Al… Rogol…”
He paused, shaking his head, trying to force the memory into stark focus. He knew the name was wrong, but it was as close as he was going to get it.
“Rogol Zaar,” he exhaled deeply, the seventy-first iteration of a long dead madman settling on his own name, “I am Rogal Zaar.”
The matter decided, and still dripping with the fluid of his artificial womb, he shook his head and marched over to the screen that so shrilly demanded his attention. He stared at it, implanted thoughts ordering the information so that he would understand it, the image of a single world and a cascade of data flashing before his senses.
The last of the World Engines had awoken and…
“So close,” he grunted, faced with disappointment, another would be Eden found wanting, like so many before, and yet…
“What have we here?” he growled, faced with the unexpected, seedlings of a world that should have died when their world did. From the House that Sprung Eternal, the last of their kind.
Pure blooded Kryptonians.
“What to do with you?”
Another Place…
Life began for him, as it so often did, with the thought that he was drowning.
He thrashed within his tank, flinches at first and then blows, the man waking submerged in fluid that filled his lungs the moment he took his first breath. Panic was his first experience, a desperate need to survive as his fists slammed against his tight confines, his eyes opening to find only a slithering of light. He screamed, impotent rage in the face of his approaching doom, the inevitably of death, defying the very universe that so callously was so cruel…
Before the door opened to his capsule and the dawn flooded in, the fluid that he had been cocooned in spilling out into the lab and splashing across the floor, the man tumbling after. With a heavy frame, he hit the ground hard, heaving in great gasps of air as he blinked and squinted into the new found light, memories sparking and spilling out into his brain so rapidly he could scarcely understand them, memories that were not his own, downloaded, edited and inherited from years past.
From lives past…
“Sev…” he hacked, mighty lungs expelling air as heavily as he inhaled them. “Seventy-One,” he wheezed with a snarl, his voice deep and raw. “I am seventy-one.”
With a heave, thick arms planted on the floor, he shoved his way up to standing, bones creaking and muscles stretching as he used them for the first time, blinking slowly as he searched the sterile room that, with an itch in his artificial memories, he knew was to be his lab, searching for any reflective surface.
He found one and, with bloodshot eyes, he looked upon features he did not recognise, his face wide and features… poorly formed. A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy… he was a poor rendition of the original, the template lost to the depths of history.
“Ro…” he grunted again, searching for his real name. “Rol, no, Roe, Roel,” he shook his head in frustration, snarling with his thick jaw, some manner of machine chirping for his attention and he ignored it. “Roal, Ro-Al, Rog-Al… Rogol…”
He paused, shaking his head, trying to force the memory into stark focus. He knew the name was wrong, but it was as close as he was going to get it.
“Rogol Zaar,” he exhaled deeply, the seventy-first iteration of a long dead madman settling on his own name, “I am Rogal Zaar.”
The matter decided, and still dripping with the fluid of his artificial womb, he shook his head and marched over to the screen that so shrilly demanded his attention. He stared at it, implanted thoughts ordering the information so that he would understand it, the image of a single world and a cascade of data flashing before his senses.
The last of the World Engines had awoken and…
“So close,” he grunted, faced with disappointment, another would be Eden found wanting, like so many before, and yet…
“What have we here?” he growled, faced with the unexpected, seedlings of a world that should have died when their world did. From the House that Sprung Eternal, the last of their kind.
Pure blooded Kryptonians.
“What to do with you?”