ELEVEN
The two little girls ran up the sandy dune as dusk descended upon Mars. The boom was heard first. Then the flash of yellow light. A light of an unknown origin lighting a sky that had started to darken. He remembered seeing his daughters' faces looking back to him. Their shadows cascading down upon him. They were smiling. Laughing. A joy to his hearing as that would be the last sound and image he had of them. He heard his wife's screams, but from where, he knew not. And then there was true darkness. And silence. His eyes struggled open. He saw blackness everywhere except in the distance where a circle of crimson and orange hue flickered in intensity. His body ached as he realized his body was on its back. He was looking up having fallen down some sort of shaft. Thrown down by the blast more likely. He ascended upwards. The heat. It became more pronounced as he went higher. The red became deeper. More dark. Fiery. He made it to the shaft's opening to see…
J'onn wakes up to a stream of light coming through a nearby window. He looks around the room. The cobwebs in his mind slowly dissipate as he remembers. The mental toll of Braniac's attack has left him angry and ashamed. He should have fought harder. He chastises himself.
His uniform has been removed. He is wearing a pair of non-descript black pants and a grey, thin sweater. J'onn gets up out of the bed he finds himself in, and walks over towards the room's only window. There are no obstructions. No restraints. And outside, there are trees, grass, a blue sky. The window is open, guiding a cool current of air upon his face. He smells life.
"Am I back on Earth?" he whispers to himself.
The room's walls are sparse. The pastel blue colored walls do little to soothe him. On one, resides a large monitor that is off. Two, small metallic tables are situated on either side of the bed. J'onn walks over to a tall, floor-standing mirror. He rubs two purple bruises on his slightly elongated head. The green shade of his skin becomes a little darker where he applies pressure. His pronounced brow has a healing cut. He takes a deep breath, closing his red eyes trying to regain a semblance of his bearings.
"You have a visitor," he hears from within the room.
J'onn looks around the bedroom trying and failing to find the source of the voice.
"Who are you?" he asks.
"Should you have immediate needs, I am here to fulfill within specified parameters?" the pleasant female voice says.
"Where am I?" he demands.
"Your front door, J'onn J'onzz. There, your questions will be answered," the voice replies.
J'onn walks to one the room's three closed doors. There is no handle.
"The door. How is it opened?" he asks.
"State the command," the voice says.
"Door. Open," J'onn says.
The wooden door makes an unclicking noise and recedes into the side wall. J'onn walks through and into a house-like hallway. He enters a larger room area that appears to serve as additional living and eating spaces. Light from outside streams through several large windows dotting the house's walls. J'onn walks to what appears to be the front door.
"Door, open," he commands.
The door recedes into the wall. J'onn walks thru, and onto a porch running along the entire house's front. It looks and feels like a countryside patch of Earth. The smells. Sounds. To his right, there is outdoor furniture including a swinging sofa and a chair.
A woman sits on the wicker-style chair.
"What is this?" J'onn demands calmly from afar.
"Welcome, J'onn J'onnz," the woman says. "Interesting home you have here. You can call me L'adria."
"Home?" J'onn questions. "I've never been here before."
"Your mind's eye," L'adria says.
"Mind's eye? I'm imagining this?" J'onn asks.
"No," L'adria says standing up to a height several inches taller than J'onn's tall frame. "This is very much real."
She holds out her bluish tint colored hand that has a thumb and seven additional digits. Surprising himself, J'onn shakes her hand. He observes her similar physical characteristics of a Martian, maybe more Earth female with the exception of skin color, the additional fingers and very sharp teeth.
"Is this the correct way?" she asks. "What you call the handshake?"
"Yes," J'onn says. "But it is more of an Earth cultural greeting."
"Ah," she responds letting go of J'onn's hand. "I lad little time to differentiate Martian life and Earth life. Are all Martians green? Did I get that right?"
"You studied me?" J'onn ponders. "So, this isn't mind control?"
"No," L'adria says. "This is Braniac."
J'onn tenses scouring the environment expecting Braniac to suddenly appear from behind one of the many tall, thick trees.
"You know Braniac?" J'onn asks.
"We all do or at the very least, of," L'adria responds. "All, being everyone here."
"Here being?" J'onn asks.
"Look up, J'onn," L'adria says. "What do you see?"
"The sky. Clouds. A sun," J'onn observes.
"That is all simulated," she says. "We are in a container made of a material. It allows Braniac to observe."
"A container?" J'onn puzzles. "A prison, you mean?"
L'adria offers J'onn a painful smile showing her white gleaming teeth. He admonishes his imagination going to a place where those teeth are ripping apart flesh.
"I have welcomed fifty-five individuals here," L'adria says. "This tends to be the part where the individual – you, are unable to fathom what I am about to say."
J'onn looks up into L'adria's hypnotic violet-colored eyes. There is no hair on her face in the form of eyebrows or eyelashes. A thick, silky black mane of hair, however, flows from her head down to her upper thighs.
"Fathom what?" J'onn says steeling himself.
"This prison, J'onn," L'adria says. "Is about this high." She holds her hands vertically apart at about three feet. "And this wide," she continues, shifting her hands vertically apart another two feet.
"You are taking this well," she says observing J'onn's non-reaction.
"If that were true," J'onn responds several seconds later. "I would be exponentially smaller. Very small."
"About this tall," L'adria says holding two of her fingers outward where they almost touch each other.
J'onn spirals his body around in a three hundred sixty-degree turn. He reflects back upon L'adria. "Braniac has that power?" he asks.
"Yes," she says. "He showed me many others before putting me here. I was alone for many days. He made me the welcoming committee. To tell everyone else…who, like you, just awakened in here."
J'onn looks upward and commands his body to fly. It does not. He tries several more times and his feet will not leave the ground.
"What is this?" J'onn asks.
"What is what?" L'adria asks.
J'onn runs through the gamut of his powers. They are gone.
"Are you okay?" L'adria asks with concern. "You seem agitated?"
"Agitated?" J'onn responds, his voice climbing angrily more than he would like. "Yes, that aptly describes my primary emotion right now. I'm apparently in a glass-caged zoo, as part of some whim. Of a criminal. A mass murderer. And my powers aren't working."
"You have powers?" L'adria asks enthusiastically. "What are they?"
"It matters little, if they are not working?" J'onn says.
"Technically," L'adria says. "They are not gone. Just being prohibited. Dampened."
"Braniac?" J'onn asks.
L'adria nods.
"So, this process is reversible?" J'onn speculates.
"That I do not know," L'adria answers.
"May I attempt to enter your thoughts?" J'onn asks. "I need to know the veracity of this. Understand it. My situation."
"Nice power," L'adria says. "You can try. Will not work."
J'onn focuses on L'adria. Ten seconds. Nothing.
Twenty seconds. Frustration erupts on J'onn's face.
Thirty seconds. J'onn relents with exasperation blowing out of his mouth.
"Sorry," L'adria. "But we are here for as long as he determines."
"My fate you say, I'm a, de-powered, nearly microscopic size experiment?" J'onn asks. "Is that it?"
"Yes," L'adria says. "To be concise J'onn, this house is drawn from your latest memory of an ideal home structure. Realized by Braniac in this world. Everyone in here has no extraordinary powers. Before you ask, there are fifty-seven of us. You I presume, like all of us here, is the last of a race. Braniac is a collector. Not only for actual beings like us, but knowledge. He has the power to shrink entire cities with the indigenous people in them. In those circumstances, the entire city is placed in this same type of container."
"For what purpose? What knowledge is to be gained from this?" J'onn asks barely able to believe what he is hearing.
"I do not know," L'adria responds. "Supplies materialize at our town center sporadically. No longer than ten days in between. This is our life. Your life."
"I will not accept this," J'onn states.
L'adria looks to the false sky. "We have all said that, J'onn," L'adria responds. "Me, a long time ago."
"Is there anyone looking for you ?" J'onn asks. "Out there, beyond this prison."
"No," L'adria says. "Braniac's mistake. When I met him, he was upset. Not loud, but you could tell he was angry. Deluded that he could never make a mistake."
"Mistake?" J'onn says.
"My planet, "L'adria begins. "Rather than shrinking our largest city, Ryanthor. His weapon set off a chain of events that destroyed Ryanth. My world. Over four billion of us. He somehow pulled me from the chaos. Me, the last know Ryanthian."
"I'm sorry, L'adria," J'onn says.
L'adria sits back down on the wicker chair. "Did he destroy your planet, too?"
"No," J'onn says. "But I am the only surviving member of my race. And in answer to your earlier question, not all Martians were green."
"Were? So, there is no one looking for you," L'adria says.
J'onn looks upward seemingly beyond the prison he is in. "L'adria. My friends will find me."
Victor pilots the twelve-seater shuttle heading for the Oa vessel. Diana is riding shotgun with Clark standing behind them. Diana is dressed in a dark blue and red, metallic texture body suit accentuated with Promethium, gold-colored wrist bracelets courtesy of Steve Dayton. A battle tiara sits firmly in place against her forehead. A lone, five-point red star adorns the middle of it. Her long, black hair flows and dangles abound. Gold-colored textures in the form of double-Ws wrap around her torso and across her upper chest. Her lasso rests comfortably on the shuttle's control panel in front of her.
"Knowing the actual size of that ship," Victor begins. "And getting ever so closer to it is a different trip."
"It is big," Diana agrees. "You still believe most of it's for power?"
"Yeah. Generating crazy levels of energy. Types of energy I'm trying to analyze. Figure out," Victor says.
"It is fascinating. And humbling," Clark says. "Proxima Centauri is over four light years away from Earth. Oa, ten times further away. Hal led us to believe that interstellar travel was confined to much smaller ships. How could anything that large generate such speeds?"
"You think Hal is holding out on Green Lantern secrets?" Victor asks.
"No," Clark responds. "I think these Guardians are simply allowing calculated doses of advance technology to, us - less advanced societies. It's a logic that is sound. I've argued myself, whether I was doing enough to drive Earth into a future. Not even knowing what that future truly means or would be."
"You're a scientist at heart," Diana says. "Not a philosopher."
"I beg to differ," Clark argues with a smile. "You had me on Themyscira for a year studying nothing but."
"I had to round you out," Diana says.
Clark starts massaging Diana's shoulders. "That you have."
Diana closes her eyes relaxing in the high-back chair. "I love when you agree with me."
Victor's metal fingers dance upon the many controls on the shuttle. "I have docking coordinates," he says.
The trio look out the shuttle's window. There is no outer space to see. Only the Oa ship commanding every view point from within the shuttle.
"It's like we're landing on a moon," Diana says.
"That's no moon," Clark assures.
"Ha, ha," Victor says. "No, it's a space station, right?"
"What do you mean?" Diana asks. "Isn't it a space station?"
Victor looks to and from Diana and Clark. Each has an incredulous, bewildered expression on their face.
"Are you kidding me, you're both over a hundred years old, you haven't seen…wow? What are the odds?" blows Victor.
Diana looks at Clark. Each deciding who should be the first to say, "Never tell me the odds!" they each yell out in unison.
"You two suck," Victor grins. "Here we go. Tracking in. Still nothing with the peepers, Clark?"
"No," Clark responds. "The metallurgy is alien, but slightly familiar."
"Kryptonian?" Diana asks as their shuttle begins entry into the Oa ship via an opened access passage.
"Possibly," Clark says. "We go in blind."
"Not the first time," Diana responds.
"Okaaay," Victor breathes with a little alarm as the shuttle begins to vibrate. "I no longer have control of the shuttle. Shutting down primary power."
The shuttle smooths out. The lack of engine noise brings a still silence within the interior. Main lights and control panels are diminished or have gone completely dark. Victor removes his hands from the controls as the shuttle is guided through a long enclosed, dark tunnel. Low-level tracking lights are on the tunnel's top and bottom. Inside the shuttle, ambient light dances and flickers off of Victor's Promethium-laced body. Diana's lasso glimmers.
An opening, bringing in light, appears in front of the shuttle. The shuttle moves through into a large, square-shaped hangar. Bright lights beam down from a ceiling at least one hundred feet from the room's metal floor. Three, tiered rows of balcony-like walkways run along two of the walls. The shuttle begins to descend towards the floor.
Victor manually activates the landing gear a few seconds before the shuttle gently bumps the black with white speckles colored floor.
"Door," Clark observes across the hangar.
"It's opening," Diana says looking through the shuttle's front window shield.
"I got two coming through," Clark says. "One pretty big, the other not so much."
"Must be a Guardian if Hal's description is on point," Victor says.
"We'll find out," Clark says. "Let's go."
Victor leads the way to one of the shuttle's exit doors. Diana lightly grabs Clark's arm.
"You look splendid with the cape on," she says. "It has been awhile."
Clark smiles. "First face-to-face contact with a new, alien race. Races, maybe. Warrants the full wardrobe," he says.
"It wouldn't be a bad look all the time," she responds.
Clark raises an eyebrow. "I can think of many times in conflict, wearing a cape would have been a bad decision," Clark says.
Diana smiles and leans into Clark's right ear. "But you look so sexy in it," she whispers.
"You do know one of my ears is cybernetically enhanced, right?" Victor says.
Diana blushes a little while securing her lasso to the side. "Sorry, Victor," she sheepishly apologizes.
"Hey, fifty plus years of love is a beautiful thing," Victor says. "But we are currently in an unknown situation."
"Who would have thought you becoming our dad? Bruce will be Batman-level ten upset," Clark says looking to Diana and Victor. "Joking. You're right, Vic. Just Diana and I doing what we do. Trust me, this situation has our complete attention."
"I know," Victor says in a manner that Clark need not have apologized. "Ready?"
Diana and Clark nod.
"One thing," Clark says to them. "Let's not tell Bruce about the cape thing. You know how he is about the cape."
Diana and Victor look at each other. Then to Clark.
"Well, my love," Diana says. "What are you willing to do in order to buy our silence?"
"Really?" Clark asks. "Really?"
He looks at his grinning wife with her head tilted to the side. "Psarras Taverna for you," he says to Diana's utter delight.
"And the Epicure restaurant in Paris. For you and Sarah," Clark says to Victor.
Diana and Victor exchange agreeing nods.
"Can we go now?" Clark asks.
"Of course," Diana says laying a fat kiss on Clark's cheek.
"Yeah, yeah," Clark says playfully keeping her at arms distance.
He hands Diana her sword – the Sword of Athena, that she places in its sheath upon her back. She gives him a look and nod ready for whatever comes.
Victor opens the door and the trio steps onto the alien ship. They maintain position as the two figures approach. A current of wind moves through the hangar flapping Clark's cape behind him.
The lead figure is around five feet tall. His light blue complexion skin is only evident by his hands and enormous head, which is significantly out of proportion with his sleight body frame. The rest of his body is clothed in a neck to floor, dark red robe. Stitched on the chest part of the robe is the lantern symbol. Tufts of white hair flair out on the side of his balding head.
In contrast, his companion is a sight to behold and fear. His sheer size dominates the moment. He wears a Green Lantern uniform that pops muscles in every direction. He is well over seven feet tall and is thick as an ox. A description the trio would agree with observing his skeletal looking nose, high-up ear placement and a huge lower jaw.
Clark eyes him fiddling with a lantern ring on his finger.
"Greetings," the shorter of the two says stopping several feet from Clark, Diana and Victor. "I am Appa Ali Apsa. With me, my companion, Kilowog."
Clark steps forward. "Greetings," Clark says. "As you know who we are, I respectfully request we dispense with pleasantries and address why you are here, and what you need from us?"
"Watch your tone, Kryptonian," the giant Kilowog orders.
Clark raises an eyebrow as Diana steps forward to his side. Her expression has turned quickly from openness to suspicion. Clark turns and smiles at Diana. She gives him a what expression. With a slight smirk, he turns back to Apsa and Kilowog.
"Tone is subjective," Clark says. "We know not the fate of two of our friends. One being a Green Lantern. Our tone. My tone, is you came to us. So, tell us what we can do?"
"I told you they were poozers," Kilowog says to Apsa. "They have no business being out here. Too early. We should reassess providing anything to them."
The Guardian raises a hand motioning Kilowog to be silent. "Forgive, Kilowog. He is forthright in his words and actions making him an excellent Green Lantern. Not so much an ambassador."
Clark and Diana share a smile. Kilowog seems to tense up and down, his eyes never leaving view of Clark.
"And," Apsa continues. "He forgets that his home world of Bolovax Vik was at a similar point in its planetary growth when the Lantern Corps reached out. Earth, however, possesses something that none of the other planets in the collective, if you will, has."
"And that would be?" Clark asks.
"You, Superman," Apsa says. "You are a variable that can help turn the tide of this matter."
Kilowog snorts loudly. "This is ridiculous, Apsa! What can he do?!"
Clark's fists clench and unclench slowly. Deliberately.
"What?!" Kilowog roars. "Convinced to leave my brothers and sisters for this?!"
Kilowog makes his move. Physics prove that force equals mass times acceleration. Kilowog's fist, nearly the size and volume of Clark's head, cocks back and aims directly for said head. It is a quick move by Kilowog. A powerful move. A futile move.
Clark could easily move to avoid the punch. Instead, he steadies himself and does not move. Does not flinch as Kilowog's white-gloved, right hand knuckles take up more of his vision.
"At least he's smart enough to use his ringless hand," Clark thinks.
Diana begins to react, but stands down observing Clark. Her trust in him is unwavering.
Kilowog's punch lands squarely on Clark's nose. Clark purposely allows his face to move back a couple of inches. If not, Kilowog would have suffered a broken hand at minimum. Instead, a jolt of pain shoots up his hand and arm in a rippling effect. Kilowog howls in pain and shock.
Diana motions Victor to stay back. She so enjoys this part of Kal.
Clark does not hesitate in grabbing Kilowog by the uniform around his chest area. He lifts Kilowog off the ground and push-tosses him through the air. Kilowog's body slams into a wall across the hangar bay, narrowly missing a ship similar to the one Hal and J'onn were in. Kilowog's body hesitates a second in the wall before gravity sends it pounding into the floor. A concaved dent is left in the wall where his near half a ton body made impact.
Clark turns his back to him and walks towards Diana and Victor. Diana is grinning ear-to-ear while Victor is hanging like a cat on a rocking chair waiting for something bad to happen.
Clark gives a side glance to Apsa who remains silent.
Clark stops a few steps from Diana. "Is he up yet?" Clark asks.
"Struggling, but just about," she observes.
"Anything Green Lantern-y yet?" Clark asks.
"I think he's still in shock by what you just did to him," she says. "Oh, wait a second. He's walking back over, and yep, he's lifting his ring hand. You got this?"
"It's stupid, and time consuming," Clark says. "But I got this."
"I wish I had some popcorn," Diana says.
Clark grins at the magnificent Diana who looks so formidable and beautiful in her attire.
"Kryptonian!?" Clark hears Kilowog's yell.
Clark turns to look not at Kilowog, but Apsa.
"Is this what you want?" Clark asks.
"Kilowog represents many minds in the Corp," Apsa says. "I am an authority, but they are the heart and strength of our directive. You must be a proven commodity before he, and the rest will be receptive of you."
"Then so be it. This ends quickly," Clark says.
To his word, Clark's next movement is so fast that to all in the hangar including Victor's cybernetic vision, Clark disappears and then re-appears in front of Kilowog. Kilowog has not even a fraction of a second to react before Clark wraps his left hand over Kilowog's Green Lantern ring. Recognizing his circumstance, Kilowog attempts to extricate his ring finger from Clark's vice-like grip. Clark's body barely moves as Kilowog shakes his body furiously and violently. He tries to grab Clark with his left hand, but Clark grabs it pinning it against Kilowog's side. Kilowog, in a blind rage, goes in for an accelerated headbutt. Clark again, staggers his head back from full impact to save Kilowog from a potentially significant injury. Kilowog shakes his head slowly clearing the pinpricks of light his vison is left with after slamming heads with Clark.
"As I understand this," Clark calmly says while Kilowog continues to struggle in his grasp. "Willpower, resolve and emotion serve as a siphon to your ring's power. Go ahead, use it."
Kilowog stops his violent shaking. He eyes Clark with bad intentions. His eyes narrow into black slits.
Clark can feel a buzzing on his hand covering the ring. Kilowog's brow becomes more furrowed. His nose and mouth begin to quiver. Clark's grip on the ring grows tighter.
"Fall, damn you!" Kilowog yells. But it is Kilowog who falls to one knee. His huge torso inhaling and exhaling from the exertion for naught he just went through.
Clark lets go of Kilowog. He lords above him. Clark looks at his hand that covered the ring. There is a slight discoloration, but no pain. No discomfort.
"We can be either allies or not," Clark says. "I'd prefer to call you friend. What say you, Kilowog of Bolovax Vik?"
Clark extends a hand downward. Kilowog looks to the hand. And then up to Clark. He takes hold of Clark's hand with a solid grip. He rises up.
"Surprised you remember the name of my home," Kilowog says releasing Clark's hand.
"Well, you seem to enjoy yelling my heritage," Clark smiles. "It's only right I'd remember yours."
Kilowog fights and loses the grin that comes to his face.
"Ally it is," Kilowog says.
"Excellent," Clark says. "Because if you went at me again, my wife would definitely step in, and trust me, you wouldn't want that."
"Wife?" Kilowog unsurely asks.
"Wife. Um, mate. Spouse. The person you love. Go through life with. Have babies. Offspring," Clark says looking at Diana.
"She," Kilowog begins looking at Diana, "Is your…wife?"
"And my life," Clark says. "You really don't want to get on her bad side?"
"Seriously?" Kilowog questions as Clark floats up a foot to put an arm around Kilowog's massive shoulders as they venture back to the group.
"Oh, yeah," Clark reinforces.
"You boys friends now?" Diana asks as Clark and Kilowog reach them.
Clark looks over to Kilowog. "Kilowog?" he asks.
Kilowog looks to Diana. To Clark, and back to Diana. "Friends," he says.
Diana nods and tightly smiles.
"Now, that that's over. What we need?" Apsa says. "Your assistance in saving Oa, if it is not already too late."
"Braniac?" Victor asks.
"Yes," Apsa responds. "He has mounted an attack on Oa. The Corp Central Battery that fuels every Lantern's ring has been damaged. Without the battery, every Lantern's ring will eventually be depleted and no way to refuel it."
"Permanently?" Clark asks.
"Unknown," Apsa responds. "Braniac's strike on it was done with a weapon not known to the Guardians, which in of itself should be impossible. If Oa falls, the galaxy would suffer an untold fate."
"How many Corp Lanterns are on Oa?" Diana asks.
"When we left," Kilowog says. "One hundred Twelve."
Clark looks up to KIlowog's dark black eyes. "No tone or disrespect intended, but that many Lanterns could not defeat Braniac?"
"He has an army," Kilowog replies. "They are numerous. Well-trained, and have weaponry that is formidable. Our rings are powered by, as you said - willpower, determination. Without those rings, we can and will still fight, but not all of us have additional powers beyond the ring."
"How often must the rings be energized?" Clark asks.
"Twenty-four of your Earth hours?" Apsa responds.
"No reserve?" Clark asks.
"Whatever each member's Lantern has in it?" Kilowog says. "It was foolish of me, just now, to use my ring."
"Like a cellphone," Victor chimes in. "Whatever juice is left in their own ring and lantern."
"I do not understand your analogy," Apsa says.
"Nothing important on your end," Clark says. "A reference point for us. Oa's sun. Is it yellow? Red?"
"Both, but Sto-oa is currently in its red phase," Apsa says. "Why?"
"Phase?" Clark asks. "It changes?"
"Every one thousand of our years. This is Oa's centennial year countdown," replies Apsa. "It is a scientific marvel, always one thousand years. Without fail since our time of recording."
"The other phase being yellow?" Clark continues.
"Yes," Apsa.
"How long is an Oa year compared with Earth's time structure?" Clark asks.
Barely any hesitation, Apsa responds, "An Oa year equates to two-point three Earth years."
"I'm a scientist," Clark says hedging his decision to withhold disclosing the link between his powers and a yellow sun. "Always curious."
"Indeed," Apsa says.
"Where I go," Clark says. "My wife goes."
Diana saddles closer to Clark's side locking one of his arms with hers.
"As we hope, Superman," Apsa responds. "We are aware of Wonder Woman and her formidable attributes."
Clark looks to Victor. "Don't want to speak for you," Clark says.
"You know my answer," Victor responds. "I. I need a moment to make a call."
Victor looks at Apsa. "Our communications have been screwy. Unable to speak with Earth or a station satellite we have above Earth. Is that you causing it?"
"Not calculating on our end," Apsa responds. "Our technology does not completely mesh with yours. A byproduct being interference of communication signals and waves. We could only establish a link with the facility on your Earth's moon."
"Is that link still open?" Victor asks.
"Yes," says Apsa.
Victor looks at Clark and Diana. "Give me five minutes. I'll be on the shuttle."
"Victor?" Diana calls out.
Victor looks at Diana, who wants to speak, but words fail her knowing who Victor is reaching out to. Clark walks over to Victor.
"Look, Diana and I got this," he says. "You don't need to come."
Victor manages a weak smile. "Thanks, Clark. Sarah will understand. If not a planet so far away, it would be a super-powered villain on Earth. Or an enemy space alien bent on world rule. Steppenwolf was no joke."
"Yeah," Clark says. "I'm still waiting for that Darkseid shoe to drop on us. All fair points, Vic, but you know Bruce, if not already at S.T.A.R., he will be here in no time. Undoubtedly with Arthur and Barry."
"You saying you don't need me?" Victor grins as Diana joins them.
"The Justice League will always need you," Clark says placing a hand on Victor's shoulder. "What I am saying, this may be a moment you want to be here. And I want you here. I'm not too keen on the idea of all of us being not only off-world, but out of the solar system."
"There are other heroes," Victor says.
"Yes, but we trust you implicitly," Clark says looking to him and Diana.
"Your thoughts?" Victor asks of Diana.
"My thoughts?" Diana says. "Your heart, Victor. Follow it. You really think the only reason I asked Sarah to come to S.T.A.R. was being here when you and Kal had findings for Earth?"
"I found that a little strange," Victor says.
"And here you are," Diana says.
Victor rolls his head back and forth a little before responding, "And here I'll stay."
"Good call," Clark says.
Diana smiles giving Victor a hug. "You've been around long enough to know things can go quickly sideways, so always have an eye open."
Victor pulls back from Diana. "Was that a cyborg joke?" he asks grinning.
"Was it funny?" she asks.
"Yeah, it was," he says.
"Then yes, it was a cyborg joke," Diana replies.
"J'onn?" Victor voices.
"Will get him," Diana says.
Victor nods as Kilowog walks over.
"Do you know a Batman?" Kilowog inquires. "He and two others are asking to board?"
The Justice League trio shares a smile.
Bruce, Arthur and Barry will soon join Clark and Diana aboard the Oa ship. Victor will make his way back to S.T.A.R., and then Watchtower with Sarah by his side. The Oa ship containing five members of the Justice League will make its way to Oa in a journey that will last less than one hour. It will be forty-seven hours later when Victor see his friends again. It will become one of the hardest days in his life.