Parasite missed, his punch hitting the ground behind me. No spiderweb of cracks appeared- he must have been holding back.
That didn't say much when you were as strong as Superman, of course. A kryptonian's holding back would still be a bloody painful punch to the face.
He turned his head to grin, and it tilted back as he guffawed at me. "What do you think you're gonna do to me?" he questioned. Then he stopped, and gave me a perplexed look. "No, really," he said. "I don't get it."
"That's a good question, actually," I said. Really, it was- I didn't really have a plan beyond 'get there first'. First thing- What would Batman do?
Fortunately, my training in the Batcave meant I actually had an answer to that, rather than just having to make stuff up.
First thing- steel yourself. That would be a good starting point. I was feeling pretty steeled already, so I went to step two.
Next- look back at your actions. Make sure you're ready to fight.
Ah, retrospection. My mortal enemy. But...
I flicked through my memories since the email had been sent, and… mentally winced at my poor display. Okay, Lena, I thought. Let's check what you're doing wrong and actually put that supergenius intellect to use.
The answer came pretty quickly, even by what I assumed was the standard speed for the average Luthor's processing.
As a general rule, I did not hold up well under stress. Sure, I was good at shrugging it off, but when I actually had something in my face? I tended to go straight from solution to solution, and that's exactly what I had been doing.
Forethought was my kryptonite, but solutions were that little laser pointer you spend half an hour teasing the cat with, and I'd been rushing off to grab them every time I'd found one.
So if I wanted to fight, I had to actually think, rather than just do. Otherwise my morning would continue in the way it had been going so far- that is, not so great.
Then check the overall environment, said my memories of Batman telling me how to operate a superhero hotline, because really it wasn't supposed to be applicable to open combat. Really, though, it was like The Art Of War- Batman's advice tended to be the sort you could apply to any situation, not just whatever he was telling you at the time.
Batman probably hadn't been intending for me to use it against a supervillain, of course, but that was the peril of giving good wholesome advice for any situation.
I glanced around. First thing to note about the situation- Parasite is considering this beat in the conversation to be going on too long.
"Well, the first thing I'm going to do is hit you in the face with this extendable rod," I explained.
"...You're gonna hit me with a stick?" asked Parasite, not quite comprehending my actions. "What, is it a magic stick? Pfft."
I considered that for a moment.
"Eb taht cigam kcits morf taht llabnogard wohs ev'i reven dehctaw!" I cried, letting magical power flow through me, and swung it at him.
We both looked at it as it proceeded to extend to about twice the size it was supposed to extend to… which, alas, was nowhere near long enough. He stared at it, waiting it to fire some sort of wizard bolt or something- and stared flatly when precisely nothing happened whatsoever.
Fortunately, his unimpressed look gave me the time I needed to finish my observations. No civilians in the area, I thought, but a few people abandoned their vehicles. I could hijack one if I wanted to get there first. The first step would be to get in one and get it headed in the direction of the plant.
The zeroth step in the plan, though, would be to get Parasite off my back for long enough to actually do the aforementioned hijacking.
He charged. I rolled out of the way, thankful I was wearing a headband rather than a tophat- it would have been difficult to pull off with an extra half a foot of height on me. I went for my belt, and as he turned towards me, I applied pepper spray directly to his face.
"Aaugh!" he cried, covering his eyes. "You brat, that-" He paused. "...Hey, wait, that doesn't burn at all. Huh."
"And now we know that Superman can't taste chilli," I surmised. "That's useful information if he ever tries to make one."
"...Wait, I can't taste chilli?" said Parasite, his eyes wide. "But- no! No spicy buffalo wings!?"
I glanced at his face. "You, uh, may have slightly bigger barriers than that," I noted, raising my eyebrows at his lack of any orifice with which to consume the aforementioned (admittedly delicious) food.
It took him a moment to catch on. His face contorted angrily when he did, and he threw himself forwards with a battlecry. I whapped him in the side with my stick, and as I avoided his vicious retaliatory motion- a punch driving down into the ground- I attempted another spell. "Eb duiqil neht tes!"
The pavement cracked underneath the hammer-blow of his fist- I couldn't tell how much the spark of magic had affected the spot, but as he pulled back his arm caught.
His noise of confusion was interrupted by a cry of 'Wopak!', and he was knocked off balance as I made good on my promise from earlier in the fight. "Extendable batons," I joked to myself as I turned around. "There's a reason Skitter uses 'em."
Of the cars… there were a wide variety to choose from. My first choice had been a blue pickup truck, but…
Well, when one of the abandoned vehicles is a garbage truck and you're fighting a janitor to get to a waste disposal facility?
It's really the only logical choice.
Parasite grimaced as he tugged his arm once, twice- then, with a single sharp tug, broke the magic'd-up road by pulling out a lump around his fist. Then he shattered what was still attached to him with a single blow. "You are getting really annoying!" cried Parasite, as he turned to face me. "Play-time's over, you little-"
His eyes went wide, immediately before he was ran over by a truck.
"Humph," I said as the boom of impact came from the front of my commandeered garbage truck. "So that's how Question felt. This is probably a safer vehicle for it, though..."
The window shattered under a purple fist. Parasite closed his fingers around the jagged glass, which fractured like ice in his grip. "That's some nerve," he growled.
I shrugged, and jabbed him in the eye with a pair of fingers. He yelped, and disappeared under the truck.
The initial thump and sounds of indignant pain were immensely satisfying, as he lost his grip on the front of the vehicle, falling underneath it. The screeches of metal from the underside of the truck as his superhuman physique ground against the road were, however, rather painful to my ears.
My prediction for what would happen next, however, was spot on- just like Superman had against that Vital guy, the one who couldn't see a menacing name if it hit him in the nose... Parasite lifted the truck into the sky, laughing, not realising we were still carrying on in the same direction simply because he hadn't stopped matching the van's speed.
Step two- get Parasite to ferry me the rest of the way there? Success.
It was probably a good thing I hadn't been able to take him out with the truck alone, all things considered- I'd had to jam in a piece of that shattered air conditioner just to keep the pedal pressed down, so I hadn't exactly had access to brakes or anything necessary to drive like that. Parasite Airlines were a much safer option by my reckoning.
Of course- I thought, immediately after yelping in terror as the cabin of the truck was torn clean off the rest of it- That only applies if the vehicle's still intact. Almost as an afterthought, Parasite tore the other half of the truck into the river, and glared at me.
"Nice trick ya pulled there," he growled. "Not very original, though."
"Not very original, says the guy who is literally copying Superman's powers," I said, keeping my voice roughly steady despite my heart being in my mouth. Remember Batman's rules. Think of a way to improve the plan. Keep him talking, and get what you can while you do.
"Oh yeah?" he retorted. "You're just a clone!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Lena Luthor? Famous daughter of Lex Luthor?" He cocked his head. "Ring any bells?"
Fortunately, I had my contingency plan at the ready. Ever since five seconds ago, I'd been waiting for this moment.
Lights, camera, action.
"...You think we're the same person," I asked flatly.
He looked at me like I was a crazy person. "I know you're the same person," he said. "Superman was first to notice, but- hello? Are there any other candidates for hyperintelligent ginger toddlers in this cit?"
"You're saying," I asked, "that I am- in fact- a helpless, six-year-old human child."
"Yeah!" accused Parasite.
"One that was kidnapped by a crab-man despite myself being consistently able to fend off a man with the strength of Superman."
"Well-"
"One that is known to live in one of the most heavily-surveilled buildings in the world."
Parasite was looking a little defensive. "You don't-"
"With a known lack of approval of Superman, despite the fact I am one of his closest allies."
"But-"
"And," I finished, "somebody who did precisely nothing to reply to that email, except for telling me to share just how flabbergasted it made her feel."
"You look exactly the same!" he retorted.
I rolled my eyes. "Of course I look exactly the same," I said. "I asked if I could use her appearance, as the most comparable famous personality to myself, and she agreed." Giving a brief pause for effect, I added- "Unless you think it's more likely that you're being defeated by a six-year-old human rather than a mentally-mature specimen of a technologically-advanced species?"
Parasite attempted to formulate a response.
"...S-shut up!" he shouted, and I made another startled sound as he suddenly rocketed to the floor.
I jumped out of the vehicle. My phone bleeped as I did. Oh, hey, we're here, I would have though, if I hadn't been hurtling towards the ground at high speed- as it was, I just made some more distressed gibberish and managed to flail myself into a landing position.
The 'falling from an aeroplane' landing position, rather than any balanced one- I really didn't want broken ribs, and I had no idea exactly how much punishment I could take. My baggy clothes, my edited genes, and the power of the square cube law protected me from most of the damage- but I was still left smashing my face into the ground.
"Owowowowowow," I hissed, clutching my nose as I staggered to my feet despite having just fell at... at whatever speed I'd been falling at. "Shit, that hurt." I checked my phone to get my bearings. "Okay, I've landed just outside the disposal, and that truck should be getting here right about-"
There was a screech of tires, and I suddenly realised that- much in the same way that the original timeline enjoyed gassing the heroes with every aerosol known to man- this universe really liked hitting things with moving vehicles.
Being small, and possessing a lot more durability than musclepower, I pretty much just bounced- though I was definitely going to be feeling it in the morning. Grimacing in pain, I rolled to my feet, and gave the terrified truck drivers a thumbs up. "I'm okay!" I called.
"Jesus Christ, kid!" said one, climbing out of the front of the truck. I couldn't tell if he was relieved or angry- both, quite probably. "You gave us a heart attack!"
"Yeah, I'm in the middle of a punch-out with Parasite," I told him. "You should probably go before you have another one."
Their eyes widened. The one still in the cabin jumped out. "Thanks for the warning!" he called, before him and his buddy ran off at the speed of sound.
As soon as they were around the corner, I caught movement in the corner of my eye.
Like a bomb, Parasite smashed into the truck. Metal shrapnel went flying- as did that strange purple goop. Some hit me in the face before I could bring up my cape- it burned, and I slapped it off my face, rubbing it off my hand on the ground for good measure.
The featureless supervillain strode from the wreck with a sound of crunching metal. "You think you can mess with Parasite!?" he snarled, his visage furious and his muscles tense like wires.
More importantly, though?
He was absolutely coated in the stuff that had created him. I grinned.
He stopped. "What's so funny?" he hissed, not quite angry enough to keep his caution at bay.
I brought up the communicator, and pressed the button on the side. "Question," I asked. "In terms of electric eels, how much charge do I need?"
"...About nought-point-seven," replied Emil, utterly confused. "Why those specific units, precisely?"
"No reason," I replied.
Electrocytes are along the flanks of the eel's body. Calculate the voltage differential from the length of a single eel, determine the number in my arms...
I lunged. He brought up two hands to intercept me, to drain my power- I rolled beside him, having to rapidly wipe off some chemicals from the growing spill off the back of my neck, and said- "Bzzt."
My hands sparked unimpressively.
Parasite most certainly did not.
I shielded myself with my cape as Parasite screamed, arcs of bioelectricity being flung out into the floor and the truck around him. Rapidly deciding that standing in the middle of it was a bad idea, I ran for it.
Just in time, because a moment later, he exploded.
For a few moments, I hunkered down, letting the echoes go by. Then, slowly, I looked up to see the results.
Where the truck had been, there was now a crater. Peering over the rim, I could see Parasite- floating face-up in a pool of sparking purple liquid. The goop was rolling slightly, and I couldn't tell if that was just aftershocks from the explosion or if this was gonna come back to bite me.
Eh, I thought, Star Labs can deal with it.
I rubbed my face, checking to make sure there wasn't a rash from the chemicals or anything, before I got out my extendable rod and made my way towards the base of the crater. Fortunately, the pool wasn't deep or large enough that I couldn't get to the bottom safely.
"Gard eht gib gul pu," I chanted- the end of the rod hooked around his neck, and I carefully pulled him far enough for my gloves to handle getting him the rest of the way out. Or, at least, I managed to get him out of the pool and onto a shelf further up the crater- I didn't have the leverage to get him any further.
That is, until a shadow behind me put a hand on my shoulder.
I turned around, to see a tall, broad man with a black cape and pointy ears that I most certainly hadn't expected to see anywhere but Gotham at this time of year. "Batman?" I asked, surprised.
"Framework," Batman replied with a nod. He looked at Parasite. "Will he recover? He certainly seems out of it."
I nodded. "It's a sudden lack of bioelectricity," I replied. "He might experience a coma-like state or some short-term amnesia, but he should, yeah."
"Good," Batman replied. Together we hauled him out, laying him safely away from the rim of the crater. "You shouldn't be fighting crime."
"I know, I know," I replied. "...I panicked a little. Sorry."
He turned to me, taking out a little plastic bottle and crouching down to spray it on my face. I flailed a little, but he gripped my shoulder a little more firmly to ask me if I'd not do that. "Panicked at what?" he asked, wiping it off on a cloth and giving it a visual once-over.
"...He knew my secret identity," I admitted. Batman put the cloth away, unconcerned, and sprayed it on my neck where I'd rolled in the spill. "Tried to blackmail me."
Batman raised an eyebrow. "Your disguise is…" He frowned. "Not exactly foolproof."
"Yeah, I thought about that," I replied. "Only when Parasite asked, though- it didn't really cross my mind before. I told him I was an alien and got permission to use that appearance from Lena, who is most certainly not just Framework's civilian identity."
"Doable, with enough PR. You should call a press conference," he suggested.
"I'll ask Father about it," I replied. "I can do it while I talk about my psychic machine thingy."
"Hmm." Batman nodded. Then he glanced at the slight impression of my face in the hardened ground. "We're going to have a talk about whatever modifications you made to yourself."
I winced. "...Yeah," I replied. "That seems... reasonable."
We both turned our heads towards the sound of sirens- him first, me a moment later. "I should be going," he said. "Take this."
He passed me a rucksack, just like the one that was utterly soaked. It was full- I opened it up, and saw…
...Presents? I'd forgotten. It was my birthday today, wasn't it?
Goshdarnit. "I-" When I looked up, he was gone. No sign of him.
The Waynes, apparently, had not forgotten.
"...Thank you," I said earnestly to the open air. Batman would be long gone by the time the sirens arrived.
I looked nervously down at the still-sparking pool below. Let's just hope that... Oh, who am I kidding? That kryptonian-empowered goop is going to be a kaiju by the end of the week, I know it.