Fallen Kings
Summary: After the Fall of Superman's Regime the world's leaders, fearing no prison can hold him indefinitely, decide to banish him to the Phantom Zone. It does not go as planned.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Ever since the fall of Superman's Regime the debate had raged as to what to do with the man himself. While he was currently held in a specially designed cell just for him which utilised red solar light and kryptonite there were some who were not very confident that it could hold him in the long-term. Some just wanted him put to death and have it done.
One who opposed that later option was the leader of the Insurgency against the Regime; Batman. It was not just Bruce's innate dislike of killing nor even the last threads of a friendship that was long past broken. It was that he feared turning Superman into a martyr. While Bruce always believed what Clark did was wrong there were millions who supported the 'peace and order' that had been brought to Earth.
Even now protests and counter-protests still raged. In some parts of the world there was small-scale fighting taking place.
"Humpty Dumpty."
It had been something Clark had said to Bruce during one of their last conversations. Seeing the state of the world, looking at these bickering world leaders, all of them just interim because they were nowhere near restoring the old order Bruce now got what Clark was saying with that.
All the King's Horses and all the King's Men may not be able to put the world back together again.
Damn him.
Damn him for all of this.
One thing was certain Clark's supporters would definitely not stop trying to bring his Regime back, at least not for years, if they still thought they could restore him to power...but killing him...that just might push an already fractured world past the breaking point into full scale war. Possibly even a new World War.
Clark had to go yet not be martyred.
Finally it struck Bruce the one place that could hold Clark. The one place designed to hold Kryptonians. They're own prison. The Phantom Zone. Irony.
Slight issue was that the Phantom Zone portal Clark possessed was locked up in the Fortress and they hadn't managed to penetrate its defences yet. On the other hand Bruce himself had built an interdimensional portal that he had used to bring others from another universe to overthrow Superman. With some adjustments he should be able to open a door into the Phantom Zone.
It took some persuasion on his part but eventually Bruce got the world leaders to agree to his idea.
When told Clark said nothing. He just sat there in stoic silence. If anything, to Bruce, he just looked tired. Tired of everything. Bruce knew how he felt.
When offered last words before his sentence was carried out all Clark said was, in sad, weary and resigned tones, "I was simply trying to create a world where no-one else would have to lose those that they love."
Then he was shoved through the portal…
Laughter fills the forest. It's almost a release.
Bruce screwed up.
The man is usually so anal and precise about everything he does that to actually experience one of his rare mistakes is just joyful...especially after everything that happened.
Clark doesn't know if he's somewhere on Earth, on a different planet or even in a different universe. Any option is possible.
But wherever he is the burdens are gone. He tried to make a better world. It was never what he wanted. Every instinct he has ever had has always said to never impose his will on people even if he possessed the power to do so but it had just gone too far. Not just the loss of his wife and unborn child but Metropolis destroyed. Millions dead. If he wasn't going to act after that then what prevented it happening all over again?
Still every decision he took as he built his One Earth Government felt like a mountain dropping atop of him but it was worth the burden because it was working. He had stopped war. He was working on solving humanity's other problems...or he would have if he hadn't had to fight that damn Insurgency constantly.
Why couldn't Bruce see he was the obstacle to a better world?
Nope, no what, he isn't going to think about it any more. It's just not his problem any longer. He offered them a better path, they chose to revert to the old one and all the chaos that will inevitably follow. Let them sink into the shithole of their making. He doesn't care.
And he's totally lying to himself. Of course he cares. That was why he acted because he cared so damn much. Maybe too much.
Clark lets out a cleansing breath. If he isn't on Earth any longer than he is right about one thing; it really isn't his problem any longer. He looks up through the canopy and spots the yellow sun beating down on him. It'll take a few days for his full powers to return but he can already feel his body beginning to recharge with energy.
Unable to fly quite yet he randomly picks a direction and begins to walk…
Clark doesn't think he is on Earth. The species of trees he is walking past he just isn't familiar with. Not that he is an expert on every type of tree on Earth mind you. It's more a...gut feeling. Honestly as this point he is so worn down he doesn't think he can scour up enough energy to care.
It is then his slowly increasingly sharp hearing picks up sounds. The sounds of...fighting. After the last 5 years it's a sound he's intimately familiar with.
He does not care. Nope. Not his problem. He's done with his 'saving people' thing. Look at where that got him.
A woman cries in pain.
Sigh. That old-fashioned, utterly dated gentleman in him is absolutely going to be his undoing.
With an exertion of his muscles he picks up his pace into a run towards the fight moving faster than even the fastest athlete or animal as his body has regained some of its former prowess... but maybe not quite faster than a speeding bullet just yet.
He soon comes across the scene. A woman dressed in a pink/purple top and black leather pants with a mask over the lower part of her face, fighting 4 ninja-style men dressed all in black. Look like assassins. There are two others already on the ground, probably dead from the pool of blood forming beneath them. The woman, despite herself sporting obvious injuries, is still fighting with a pair of sais but clearly slowly losing.
Double sigh.
He really shouldn't get involved. He knows literally nothing about what is going on.
The woman is knocked to the ground. Her end is here.
And who is he trying to kid here really. Of course he's going to get involved. Superman to the rescue.
Triple sigh.
So focussed are the assassins on killing their target they never see it coming. Especially not when the man moves with superhuman speed and fighting skills learned off a certain warrior princess, sharpened by years of fighting.
Assassins...good lord how many of these guys has Clark beat-up over the years...and while he may not yet be at full strength he has to be at least 10 times stronger than these guys. He is also long past the point where he tries to be gentle as can be illustrated by the sounds of bones breaking under his punches and kicks.
Sure enough that the 4 are no longer any threat he turns his attention to the woman they were trying to kill who is struggling to try and get up, only to fall down to her hands and knees. Clark can see the blood dripping from wounds. She's hurt quite badly. He moves over to try and help her...which she does not appreciate...at all.
"Touch me and lose your hands," the woman warns in a raspy tone.
Clark has seen this sort of attitude before quite a few times. "You know it is not a weakness to ask for help when you need it nor accept it when it is freely offered," he says calmly.
"How do I know you're not here to finish me off!" she accuses.
"If I wanted you dead I wouldn't have intervened in the first place."
"Maybe you want to take me alive to the Usurper. Gain his favour or a reward."
Clark chuckles. "Money means nothing to me and as one who was recently usurped I feel your pain."
His words seem to make an impression as she stops her futile struggles to get to her feet and tilts her head round to look at him and he spots for the first time her orange feline-like eyes. Definitely not human then.
"You were a Kahn?"
"The title was High Chancellor but that would be quibbling over minutiae. I was a ruler, yes. Now as one fallen Kahn to apparently another will you let me aid you?"
The woman takes several moment to consider his offer before very reluctantly agreeing. "I permit you to aid me."
"So gracious," he replies with a touch of theatricality as he bends down and lifts her up before placing her against a tree. His eyes take in at least 2 stab wounds and several deep cuts. Chewing over what he can do he moves over to the fallen assassins and begins to rip off their clothing to use as bandages. As he dresses her wounds she takes it with great stoicism even though she must be in terrible pain. "So who was it that overthrew you?" he asks, trying to fill the silence and to keep her talking and conscious.
"My General," she says bitterly. "Now he sits on my throne, bequeathed to me by my Father."
"He sent the assassins?"
"I have many enemies," she replies which kind of means she doesn't know for sure.
What does one say to that?
"Who was it that overthrew you?" the woman asks him, the visible part of her face flinching as Clark ties the bandages tight.
"My best friend," he says in quiet tones.
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to make the world a better place. Apparently he thought that was a bad thing."
"How did you come to be here?"
"They feared that no prison could hold me yet they did not want to martyr me either so they tried to banish me into an interdimensional prison only they clearly messed up since I ended up here...which you must admit was quite fortunate for you."
"I must admit nothing," she states in haughty tones.
Clark rolls his eyes. What is it with him and haughty woman of royal lines?
"Why would you openly speak of this to me?" she wonders, since, to her, it is not something she would do. Giving away secrets.
"Why wouldn't I? I have nothing but the clothes on my back and right now, little care for pretence."
The woman returns to being silent while Clark finishes his work. "There," he says as he tightens the last bandage. "That's only a temporary fix. You need a healer."
"There is one back at my camp."
"Which you will only reach with my help."
"I did not say that."
"You did not need to. I can see how injured you are."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Maybe us fallen Kings need to stick together."
The woman does not like to admit she needs anything but she can't argue this. Besides with the way he defeated the assassins he is clearly a powerful warrior. In her current state, if he wanted her dead she would be. Maybe...maybe she can use him to get her throne back but she can't trust him. He could still be working for her Betrayer. She can't rule out that possibility but her camp is some distance away. She has a little time to try and judge this man and an army of followers to kill him with if he is in league with Kotal. "What is your name?" she asks him.
"Kal-El," he goes with. "May I know yours?" he asks back politely.
"I am Mileena Kahnum, Daughter of Shao Kahn and the Rightful Ruler of Outworld."
"Kind of a mouthful but ok," Clark jokes as he helps her to her feet.
And with that, unknown to the both of them, the fate of the two Fallen Kings becomes intertwined and their impact on all the Realms will be one not even the Elder Gods can foresee.
The End.
Author's Note: Got a weird bugbear for writing a story involving Mileena and to me the Injustice Superman is going to click with her far more than other versions of the Man of Steel. They can share their laments over being dethroned. Thanks to everyone who has previously written reviews.
