Rise To Power
Hveðrungr
Do you know the problem with the gods of your world, child?
I do. I know their problems, and the problems people have with reconciling them with reality. I know the true meaning of godhood.
The essence of godhood is perfection. The power and knowledge to do anything, without limits. True perfection of body, mind, and soul.
Yet the problems people have are the imperfections of our reality. We live in an imperfect world, supposedly created by a perfect god. There are problems that could easily have been fixed by people, had they been gods.
You once believed in a god, didn't you? Yet one day the reality of it all hit you, in one wave of tragedy after another. Death, despair, loss, fear, hatred and destruction. That is the reality you live in.
You asked questions. 'If god is perfect, why has he not fixed everthing?' You were told that god works in mysterious ways.
Yet god is perfect. He could have found a way to combine true will and the perfection of the world – he is the embodiment of it, after all.
And so you stopped believing. Because it was a choice between an imperfect god – not a god at all, in truth – or an uncaring god that you could not pray to. It wasn't a choice.
The problem with the gods in your stories is that they had perfection, and yet acted imperfectly. You saw this and wondered why. You presumed superior capabilities. And that secret arrogance grew, that belief that if you had the power you could do better.
You were wrong. But that arrogance remained.
So I present to you this power. Perfection of body, but not of mind or soul. I cast you out into worlds in need, and charge you with improving them. If you can do so, your power will remain. Should you fail, you will constantly wander in desperation, seeking forgiveness for your arrogance.
You presumed superiority. Now you will be shown inferiority.
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I was awake instantly, shocked into alertness by the harsh beeping of the alarm clock. I tried to yawn and groan at the same time, reluctantly tossing off my covers and standing. I rubbed my finger into the corner of my eye, gouging out the crust that had formed overnight, before flicking it into some dark corner of the room.
I trudged over to the window, gazing out into the city. Metropolis. My home. I'd lived here my whole life, hadn't ventured out once. I was a city boy through and through. Hell, I'd even been up close to Superman, once or twice.
What... What's going on? This isn't...
I let out a half-snort, half-grunt, and let the small smile that had crept onto my face wash away. This was no time for reminiscing, after all. I wasn't doing so well. Just out of high school, and trying to get a job without going to University. I couldn't afford it. Any time I bring up the fact I haven't gone to uni, I might as well have told them my greatest accomplishment was a certificate stating that, 'Alex got the most gold stars throughout his time in kindergarten. Well done, Alex!'
Unemployed, and with hospital bills to pay, too. I'd interviewed for so many jobs in the past month, but had been rejected by all. If I didn't get this reporter job at the Daily Planet, I was screwed. So, incredibly, screwed.
This... This isn't right. I don't live in Metropolis, that's a fictional city. It doesn't exist!
I padded through the door to my bedroom and straight into the main area of my apartment, the kitchen/sitting room. There was room with a shower and a toilet just to the right of my bedroom, with the main area of the apartment on the left. The door was at the end of the main area, directly across from my bedroom. I took this all in with a glance before heading straight into my bathroom for a shower.
I... I don't have an apartment. I only just left secondary school! In England! I turned eighteen a couple of months ago, for god's sake!
I cleaned quickly and efficiently before the stupid boiler started giving me cold water, firmly turning the shower off once I left. I didn't need that utilities bill so high again, especially with all that student debt hanging over my head.
I shook my head and put on a suit and tie, carefully combing my hair into a slightly less unruly state. I had dark hair that tended to grow up and out rather than down, which if left long enough would give me something of a bouffant style. Luckily, I didn't need to shave yet – there was barely a wisp of sideburns on my face, and chin and upper lip were clean shaven. I nodded, before grabbing everything I needed – phone, wallet and keys, and heading out. I decided not to take the bus – the job interview I was heading for wasn't far away, so I could walk there.
I can't believe it, I don't understand what's happening, and I can't control what I'm doing... This isn't right!
I turned right at the next corner, humming a little under my breath as I strolled. I was hopeful, today.
I paused, and looked behind me. Huh. Took a wrong turn. Guess I needed to pay more attention to where I was going. I shook my head, and turned back, before crossing the street and heading the the fifteenth interview of the month – a job at the Daily Planet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm sorry, Mr. Carroll, but I don't think you're right for us." The man across the table from me smiled tightly, as if to say, 'I know you did your best, but we don't want you.'
I nodded, returning the same tight smile. I'd known about half way through that they were winding up to a rejection. I'd just hoped that maybe I could salvage it, but... No such luck. I reached across the table to shake his hand, said my goodbyes, and left, opening the door and turning right without looking. I bumped into someone coming down from that way, and I stumbled back a bit. The guy I bumped into blinked and looked a little staggered as well.
Holy fucking shit... There's no way that's motherfucking Clark Kent!
"Clark Kent?" I said, surprised. Not just at bumping into the guy, but having his name somehow jump onto my lips.
He was a dorky looking guy with glasses and meticulously combed hair, and he jerked back slightly in surprise. "Sorry, do I know you?"
"..." I paused trying to think of where I knew the guy from. "I, uh, I was trying for a job here, and I did my research before I came." I nodded assuredly, remembering now. I made sure I knew the people who worked here, that's right. "You're a reporter."
"Ah, yes, yes I am." He smiled, a little shakily, before shaking my hand. Weak grip, I noticed. "So, do you think you, ah, got the job?" He asked politely.
I shook my head ruefully, giving him a wry smile. "No, unfortunately. But, uh, maybe I'll see you around." I nodded to him, he nodded back, and I left. Time to visit the hospital.
Wait, what?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hey, mu-" I cleared my throat slightly. "Mom. I've been meaning to come down and see how you were doing, really, I have. Guess things have been kinda hectic lately, what with me trying to find a new job. But other than that, things have been pretty good. No girls in my life yet, though!" I chuckled weakly as I took a seat at my mum- my mom's bedside. "Still, I'm not giving up hope. On the job or the girls!" I laughed again, but it quickly fell short. "Or you, mum."
What the hell isthis?
I stared down at my mother's comatose form. She'd been like this for moths now, ever since that drunk driving asshole had mounted the kerb and hit her. She hadn't been to banged up, physically, but it had apparently brought on some kind of dormant issue with her brain, that both left her in a coma and in danger of death. Apparently, we were lucky to have caught it so early on.
I didn't feel lucky. Hospital bills were being paid by what little money the family had left, but soon they'd mount up and I wouldn't be able to pay. I dreaded what would happen when that day came.
This isn't right. That's my mother. What the hell is she doing here?!
"Don't worry though, mum." I smiled down at her slack face, brushing a blond lock of hair out of her eyes. "The doctor's say you're doing better, and that with a few more months, you'll be just-"
An explosion rocked the building, and I was thrown across the room as the hospital exploded. I slammed into the far wall, my head smacking into the concrete hard enough to make me black out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I roused myself woozily. My hand to my head, I rose shakily to my feet. I looked around blearily, but... something must have been wrong with my vision, because all I saw was... rubble. I shook my head, looking more closely. It was rubble. This whole wing of the hospital had been reduced to... to... to nothing. I looked around, and saw that the rest of the hospital was still standing, but something had happened to this part. Something had destroyed this part.
No! Where's my mother! Where is she!
I frantically searched through the rubble of the hospital, trying to find her. Intellectually, I knew that if she was under here, then she was probably... Dead, but I couldn't give up hope. I had to keep searching-
I overturned a rock to find a limp hand, scarred and cut by the explosion. I kept throwing away more and more rock, digging up the rest of the body behind that arm, hoping that it was someone else, that it wasn't my mother, that it was someone who didn't mean something to me-
No...
When I uncovered the rest of the body, crushed and torn beyond repair, I nearly gave up. But I kept digging, because I had to know for sure. I couldn't just leave it to chance...
Not my mother...
I fell back, tears pouring down my face as I realised that my mother would never get up again. The knowledge that this was the end of-
"Come on, Superman! Just try it!" A voice roared out. Shakily, I raised my head, looking up to see what was going.
Metallo...!
The supervillain Metallo, the one who fought Superman... He blew up this hospital to... To draw out Superman...?!
He killed my mother...!
He killed my mum...
This isn't happening... I won't let this happen!
Something inside me broke.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Metallo was unsure quite what had happened. The attack on the hospital had gone off without a hitch, and already people were desperately calling police, taking photos and calling out for Superman to come and save them. The big, blue boy scout would be along soon enough.
Then something hit him from behind. His first thought had been that Superman had decided to sneak attack him – but that wasn't his style.
Metallo didn't exactly feel pain – everything had a sense of... numbness to it. But he recognised the fact that he was now flying through the air, up and over Metropolis, and he was slowly beginning to fall.
He did get a good look at what had hit him. A floating man in a torn and damaged pinstripe suit, a snarl twisting his face into a visage of fury. Metallo gave the robotic equivalent of a surprised blink – as far as he knew, there weren't any other flying brick types in Metropolis. If this kid even was a hero.
He tried to turn in mid air and right himself for landing, but the suit blurred and slammed into him again, so hard that the metal of his impervious body buckled. He was knocked into the sky again, even higher.
Only a Kryptonian could have this kinda power, right? He thought, growing worried. In that case, some Kryptonite should...
The casing for his power source slid open, revealing the green rock to the world. Emerald light shone out, playing over the suit briefly – to no noticeable effect.
There was no time to process this- the suit was already blurring forward, slamming into him, but this time he gripped onto his metal body. The effect of being thrown back, and then grabbed before he could start moving, created a whiplash effect that, while not doing much actual damage, was sort of... unnerving. His power source casing was still open, but it wasn't having an effect on this man in a torn suit.
"Why?!" The suit snarled at him. "Why did you attack that hospital?!" His grp was tight on Metallo's shoulders – he could feel the metal beginning to crumple beneath his grip, like so much paper to this strange new cape.
"Why else? To draw out SUPERMAN!" With that final word yelled, Metallo twisted in the suit's grip and slammed his fist into the side of his head... To no discernible effect. "What...? How are you...?"
He breathed, shocked. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Me?" The suit's glare darkened to levels that almost scared Metallo. "I'm the guy whose going to kill you."
With that, the suit's grip tightened even more, bunching up the metal beneath his fingers and causing an ear-splitting screech to be emitted from his sides. Then the suit tensed his arms, and pulled.
Metallo's body came apart in a wrenching, screaming squeal, and the cyborg that had once been John Corben came apart in his hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I tore Metallo apart like ripping up a piece of paper. It was effortless. Sickeningly so, and I wondered if maybe it was the fact that it was so easy was what made me sick. I shook my head, before swooping over to land on the roof of a nearby building. I dropped the one of the two halves of Metallo's body – the part containing his Kryptonite power source and his head – and begin to work on crushing the other half of his body into a ball.
By the time I had worked it into a sphere about he size of a basketball, someone had swooped up and landed on the other side of the roof. I dropped the basketball of Metallo and raised my eyes to look directly up at... Superman.
"You okay there?" He asked. "Metallo didn't hurt you?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm... fine."
"Okay." Superman smiled. "You did a pretty good job fighting him out there."
I shook my head. "It... It wasn't a fight. He couldn't hurt me-" I almost tagged an 'any more' onto the end of that before continuing, "but I could hurt him."
Superman nodded. "If I may ask..." He seemed hesitant. "What did he do?"
I paused. "He..." I began, then raised my hand to rub my eyes. Christ, I'm crying in front of Superman. "He killed my mum."
