"Ah, man! I hadn't eaten like that in years!" he said.
They had just finished their Kryptonian banquet, and he was about to burst. Supergirl looked the part too. She had that same annoyingly sweet smile carved on her face, but if this were a cartoon, she'd have a severely bloated, comically balloon-like stomach.
"I know! I mean, I've tried Earth's food, but," she shrugged, "I guess I'm more used to Kryptonian fare."
"It ain't bad, let me tell you that. Could be a little spicier, though," he looked around, noticing the coffee makers. "Want a coffee?"
"No thanks, I don't really like coffee. I don't get why people are so into it. It's just hot water, but, you know, bitter," she scrunched her nose.
"... I'm gonna give you a pass, you being an alien and whatnot," he said, "as for me, hmmm, I want an espresso." The coffee materialized before him after a little blue flash... he wasn't a fan if he was honest. It was pretty but unnecessary flashy. He just wasn't that type of dude. "From now on, my magic is inconspicuous," he said.
Supergirl looked intently at his glass. "So, how do your powers work? Don't get me wrong, they are incredibly useful, but as far as I can tell, you are creating matter, and believe me, that should not be possible."
"Hmm? I didn't tell you? It's magic," he shrugged.
"Is that why you asked me if magic was a thing? I thought you were looking for ways to return to your world," she said.
He sighed heavily. "I don't think that's possible, or if I'd do it if it was, to be perfectly honest."
"Because you think you died?" she asked.
"Because I know I died," he corrected.
"What about your family, friends, girlfriend? There has to be at least someone who'll miss you."
"Nah, I didn't get along with my family. I believe the last time I spoke with my mother was like two, maybe three years ago. As for my friends, well... sure, they'll miss me. I'll miss them too, but their lives did not depend on me. They will be just fine after my passing."
"That's..." She looked like she was struggling to find a word, so he helped.
"Apathetic? Blasé maybe. I know. I'm probably going to freak out sometime later. For now, I'm more concerned about my powers."
"Concerned how?"
"It's just... Well, I don't know the scope of them," he explained. "Look around," he said, gesturing at the diner. "I made all this, all of this, with a couple of words and imagination. I didn't even feel it. I expected some type of tiredness or some form of toll on my body, but the only reason I know it was me who did it is this," he said, pointing at a broken tile on the floor. "Because I remembered this diner from my world, and I was the one who broke it."
"Oh..." she looked around. "Fascinating. It even has a foundation deep down. The material composition is sound, as is the building's overall structural integrity."
"X-ray vision? Microscopic too," he thought. "Yeah, and it's real too. Like completely real, not a magical construct or an illusion. I am not keeping it up with my magic or anything. So, I'm creating things, which probably means this is some kind of reality-warping ability or some advanced form of matter manipulation. Both options are nuts if you ask me."
She looked pensive at the diner. "As of now, we know you can manipulate matter, yes," she acquiesced. "You haven't warped reality beyond that, so we don't know if you actually can. I'd recommend not getting too hung up on your powers, but the truth is, I've experimented with mine just as much as anyone else who has them. I don't think it would be a realistic option. Maybe try changing reality, but you know, something small," she said.
He thought for a couple of seconds. He could do that. "One plus one equals three," he said. Judging from Supergirl's expression, that was not as small as he thought it was. "Oh, that actually tickled," it felt a little uncomfortable for like half a second, but it went away quickly. "Oh shit, that tickled. I want another espresso," he asked his magic, and out of nowhere, there were three coffees on the table. "Fuck! One plus one equals two!" he shouted, feeling another quick tickle. He looked at Supergirl. She was looking at him with the same discombobulated face he was sure he had.
"Did you just..."
"I think I did..."
"You corrected it too."
"I did that, yes."
"Do you think anyone noticed?"
"... shit. Yeah, probably. You said there are other magic users on Earth, right? We better get going." Old heads capable of feeling disturbances in the force were a common trope for a reason, and he did not want to risk meeting any of them just yet.
They both stood in a hurry, with Zac saying a short "Diner, disappear." They were good to go.
"Actually, I think I should do something first," he said, thinking about the wording of his next 'spell'. "Okay, this should work. You are the only one, besides myself, who knows I have powers," he said, looking at Supergirl. That wasn't bad, he didn't even feel it. "Okay, next one: I'm the only one who can feel my magic." He had barely finished when pain, the likes of which he didn't know were possible, assaulted him. Thankfully, unconsciousness took him the next second.
Zac slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the bright light. "What... Where am I?" he could feel blankets beneath his hands. What the hell happened? He wanted to ask. He needed to figure out where he was first, though.
"Good, you are awake," he heard, blinking a couple more times to clear his vision. He saw a... nurse? Standing at the side of his bed. At least she looked like a nurse, scrubs and all. Something was off, though. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. "You're in the hospital." There it was again. It felt like a little voice inside his head was telling him that wasn't quite right. If he was a betting man, he'd bet that this was another of his powers manifesting. Telepathy, perhaps. "You had a bit of an accident, but you're safe now. How are you feeling?"
More than a little confused, he answered, "Accident? I... I don't remember. What happened?" It was coming back to him, actually, but he didn't fully trust the 'nurse'. The last thing he remembered was preparing to get the f out of the forest with Supergirl... ah, he passed out. What was that? He felt like every cell in his body was dipped in acid. His eyes narrowed. "Were we captured?" He wouldn't put it past some ultra-powerful magical user. So, with a small exertion of will, he tried to see if magic was at play. Thankfully, his search returned nothing. He could feel everything around him, but there was no magic outside of himself.
"It's okay, don't worry. You lost consciousness. You're in the hospital for observation, to make sure everything is alright. Do you remember your name?" the nurse said. She was too rigid somehow, like she was demanding the answer or something like that.
He carefully rattled his wrists, trying his best to go unnoticed. He was restrained, probably his feet too. "Yes, I'm... My name is Zacharias, I think," he said, trying to gain time to look around the room.
She offered a reassuring smile. It looked more like a grimace, to be honest. She was definitely not used to reassuring people. Odd. "Don't worry, sometimes memory loss can happen after a traumatic event or head injury. It's not uncommon. We'll monitor your condition and run some tests to determine the cause. In the meantime, can you tell me if you have any pain or discomfort?"
Now, with a clearer picture, he saw what was off about this. Even if he ignored the nurse (everybody has off days, after all), the whole setting was wrong. The doors had security pads, clearly to restrict access. From his position, he could see shadows beneath the door. Guards, maybe? Hell, even the equipment in the room, at least what he could identify, was for keeping people alive as opposed to helping with recovery. This looked more like a military facility...
He groaned. "I'm in the DEO, aren't I?" he asked.
Ms. Nurse, somehow, by sheer tyranny of will, straightened further. "Correct," she said, with a slight incline of her head.
"Why the charade? Also, are you going to uncuff me? I don't think I've done anything to be tied up for." He felt whatever contraption they had used on him loosen. Thankfully, there was no sound signaling his release.
"I'm afraid that is not an option," she said firmly. "You were brought here directly by Supergirl. She said you had lost consciousness after doing 'something.' When further inquired, she was not able to produce an intelligible response. As for the 'charade,' we have not found an explanation for that particular phenomenon. We managed to discover that you have supernatural abilities of some sort, but as of now, you are an unknown quantity capable of affecting a Kryptonian. Needless to say, from the moment you arrived in the facilities, it was decided you would be under the DEO's custody."
Her eyes widened at the amount of information she had delivered. It wasn't much, but he was willing to bet it was more than what she wanted to say. He could understand why she stepped back. She was probably afraid. While he could have asked for all the information they had on him, he had only nudged her to tell the truth.
"I... might have overstepped a little... actually, they strapped me to a bed. Fuck 'em. Shit, does this count as messing with people's heads? It probably does. Damn. Not even a day, and I already broke one of my rules," he thought.
"Look," he said placatingly, "when can I talk with Supergirl? I'm sure we can sort this out without more mishaps." He raised his hands in the universal sign of no aggression, which proved to be a mistake. With surprising speed, the nurse unholstered her gun (beautifully concealed, by the way; he didn't even notice) and pointed it at him. Thankfully, she kept her finger outside the trigger guard. He had seen way too many movies where trigger discipline was an afterthought.
He was about to open his mouth again when she made a 'don't you dare' gesture. Next thing he knew, operatives were walking into the room with a blonde woman at the head. She was clearly the boss here.
She was looking at a video feed on some type of tablet. He was fairly sure it was from whatever hidden camera they had inside his room. She looked at the 'nurse', who by now had dropped all pretenses of being one. "At ease," she said, standing before his bed. "It appears, Mr. Zacharias, that we've started on the wrong foot. Allow me to correct that. I am Cameron Chase, Director of the Department of Extranormal Operations (DEO). As a member of our department, I am sure Supergirl informed you about our duties and obligations. That being said, as of now, you present a threat level high enough to grant me carte blanche in how I... deal... with your presence."
He recoiled a little at her proclamation. "Let me get this straight," he said, sitting at the edge of the bed. Thankfully, the hospital gown covered him well enough. "You said we started on the wrong foot, and as a form of ameliorating the situation, you... threaten me?" Gods, he could never understand the secret agencies in comics. They made little sense.
She was about to respond when he decided he had had enough. He wasn't a violent person or a very confrontational one, but they were getting on his nerves. He had been lied to, they had pointed guns at him, and now they were threatening him? Not to mention whatever they could have done to him while he was passed out. Someone had at least undressed him.
He stood up. Of course, even more guns were aimed at him. "Let me be perfectly clear here," he said. "I do not care about you. I don't care about your agency. And, more importantly, I don't care about whatever arbitrary control over me you think you have." He felt the soldiers (actually, were they soldiers?) tense at his words, but he was supremely unconcerned by their presence. "Supergirl may let you boss her around, and that's fine. It was part of whatever agreement you had with her. But don't think for even a second I'll let you do the same. Now, I'm about done with this whole situation," he said, walking toward the door. "If you'll excuse me, I think it's time for me to go." He heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. "Oh, for the love of... you know what? Enough." He turned around and looked at the soldiers. "Sleep." They fell like puppets with their strings cut. It was a little eerie. The Director pulled out a gun, but having the nurse do the same to him had awakened him to the possibility, so he used his telekinesis to rip it away and crushed it. It turned into a ball, which he tossed carelessly into the corner. "You played your little intimidation tactic. It didn't work. Let it go." He walked toward her, levitating her and keeping her completely unable to move with his telekinesis. "Are we done here?" She nodded as best she could. Just to be an asshole, he stuck her to the ceiling. It would only last for a few minutes, but he had lost the ability to care at the moment. "If she wants to find me, tell Supergirl I'll be close by. I need to find someone who can understand my power."
Teleporting was far more pleasant than he thought it would be. Granted, his only real inkling about what it was like came from Harry Potter, and it was depicted as highly unpleasant.
He found himself in a... bar? A nightclub would be a more appropriate description, a very high-end one at that. Being as early as it was, it was no wonder it was pretty much empty, except for the guy playing the piano, that is. He sat on the stool at his side and, in an effort to make himself look a little less out of place, he transformed his hospital gown into a nice two-piece blue suit with a belt and shoes to match (that is to say, brown).
"My, oh my, what do we have here?" he heard the piano man say. He had a clear British accent. He had turned to him, sitting quite stylishly (in his opinion) with a glass of what he thought was whisky in his hands. A little early perhaps, actually, nevermind. He seemed to be studying him quite closely, judging by the serious look on his face. Said look disappeared after perhaps a second as he stood and walked towards him. "For a second there, I thought little Eleine had come to pay me a visit. Color me surprised," he said, taking a seat at his right side. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? Even for me, being invaded by a foreign Demiurgic entity is a rare occurrence."
"I, uh... Demi-what? Sorry. I'm... new to this," he said, gesturing vaguely around himself. God, he sounded like a child.
There was a small second pause before Piano man burst out laughing. After a handful of seconds more, he got it under control. "Do forgive me. I'm afraid this... this is definitely a first for me, and believe me, not many of those are left. Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself," he said, standing up. He followed suit; he didn't want to appear rude. "Lucifer Morningstar, at your service," he shook his hand numbly. Of course, his power would take him to the literal devil.
"You really are, aren't you? The devil, I mean," he asked, more as a formality really. "Name is Zacharias, by the way."
"Guilty as charged, Zac. May I call you Zac?" the devil smiled as he asked. He nodded in assent.
This... this was not a conversation to be had sober, he decided. "I need a beer," he said, manifesting one for himself, earning himself a raised eyebrow from the devil. "Where am I?" he asked. "I'm gonna be honest, I asked my powers to get me to the closest person capable of explaining my powers a little. I did not expect to meet the devil, no offense."
"It's quite alright. Believe me, your reaction was well within expectations, a little disappointing even. Most mortals believe me to be crazy at first. Some get scared, but they are few and far between," he seemed more amused than anything. "As for where you are, this," he gestured around himself, "is Lux, my very own den of debauchery. Quite an exclusive one if you're wondering."
"Not gonna lie, kind of wild for the devil to own a nightclub. Things here must get crazy," he said absentmindedly.
"Fascinating," Lucifer said. "You don't seem to doubt me, yet I feel no fear or judgment from you. You really are a gift that keeps on giving, aren't you?" he said, taking a sip of his drink.
He thought a bit about that. He had had similar conversations with his friends, and his argument had always been the same: "Why would I judge you for being what you were made to be?" He wasn't very religious, but wasn't that the whole argument? Angels being different from humans due to free will and whatnot? If anything, he sympathized. Being made to be the bad guy didn't sound like a nice job to him.
The devil's smile became a little more welcoming, and he even raised his glass in acknowledgment. "Well, HE retired, so his rules no longer apply. I decided to take a little vacation too. This is my little slice of heaven, so to speak," he said cheekily.
"When you say 'he'..." he led on.
"Dear old dad, of course," the devil said.
"Right, of course, why wouldn't he," he shook his head ruefully. "What kind of universe am I in?" First aliens and now biblical figures going through midlife crises?
He laughed. "As amusing as it would be seeing someone go through an existential crisis, and believe me, it would be, you don't need to worry. My niece took up the mantle."
"I see, nice of her, I suppose. Does that mean there is a new devil down there?" he said, pointing downward. Either way, at least someone was in charge. That was enough for him.
"Curiouser and curiouser, you aren't lying, and you aren't deceiving yourself either. You believe me and are okay with it. What an interesting young man," was it a good or a bad thing?
"Not really," he said. He did not consider himself as particularly interesting; he was just a dude. His acceptance had more to do with the knowledge of being part of a comic book reality than anything else. He also noticed he ignored the question, but honestly, who cares.
"Let's agree to disagree then," the devil said. "Well, young Zac, I think it's time for me to help you, is it not? What is it you need to ask of me?" Lucifer asked.
"Honestly, an explanation would be nice. I have these powers, but I just don't know where they come from or what they mean. Whatever you can tell me would be really appreciated."
The devil smiled and shook his head. "Of course. You realize people tend to ask for more details when they make a deal with the devil, do you not?"
"Please, if you wanted something from me, you'd have already taken it. I'm not naive enough to think I can outsmart the devil just because he is on vacation," he said, taking a sip of his drink. It was actually quite good. First time drinking... Old Rasputin? Never heard of it before.
"You are not wrong," he acknowledged. "As for your powers..." he hummed. "How to explain them... Are you familiar with the term 'Dunamis demiurgos'?" he asked.
"Not even in the slightest," he said.
"Figures." For the first time since the conversation, he turned away from him, putting both of his elbows on the bar, looking pensively at his piano. "Dunamis demiurgos, the power of God. For some reason, you, young Zacharias, have it within you. It should not be possible, and should any other being feel it, it would be unrecognizable. But I've felt it, Michael felt it too once upon a time, and now my niece possesses it within herself. For all intents and purposes, it should be impossible. No other being in creation should have it. Yet... here we are. A foreign new God. Of course, as I said, it's... different. Less refined, less marked by the stains of time, if you will. A new, budding nigh-omnipotent energy." He must have looked spooked because the devil rushed to clarify. "No need to worry, while incredibly powerful, it's still in its early stages. My niece could erase you from reality with a blink. I would too if you annoy me enough," he said jokingly, or at least he hoped he did.
"This is so much more than what I thought it would be," he said. "I don't even know where to begin," he sighed. "Thanks though. I feel I would have gone and done some very stupid shit trying to find out how far I can take my powers."
"Like changing math?" he asked, clearly amused.
"...like changing math," he nodded. "You noticed, huh? Was kind of hoping no one would."
The devil deadpanned. He decided to change the subject.
"So, what can you do about creating a new identity? Should I just manifest one?" he said, moving his hands around vaguely.
"It's what I did," he shrugged. "Reality can be very accommodating, for my family at least," he added absentmindedly.
"Family, you say? Would it be weird if I go by Zacharias Morningstar? I kind of like the sound of it. I mean, could you imagine..."
"..."
"Oh come on, I could even change how I look. We could be twins," he said, turning himself into a younger version of Lucifer.
"I already had one of those, so no thank you." he said, changing him back. He returned the favor, turning himself into an older Zac. "The other way would not work either, you are way too square-jawed, and look at this hair. I could not be caught looking like that," he said, moving his hands through his messy blonde tresses.
"Come on, mate. I could even go for the accent. It's quite nice, innit?" Zac said.
"That is by far the worst attempt at a British accent I have ever heard."
"It's a work in progress," he said, somewhat defensively. His heart wasn't in it, though.
They spent a little while playing around, talking, and generally getting to know each other. Turns out the devil was a chill guy. It was nice. It all had to stop when they heard a voice coming from the entrance.
"Lucifer!" They both looked at the entrance. Luckily, they had turned themselves back to their original appearances.
"Detective! How can I help you?" Lucifer said.
She took a small look around until her eyes met his. "Are you serving alcohol to minors now?" she asked. He looked at his hands, and sure enough, he had a new beer. Huh, when did that get there?
"Excuse me, I'm 21. Thank you very much," he said to the detective. "Uncle Lucy, care to introduce us?" he asked.
"Right," his uncle sighed, defeated. "This," he said, gesturing towards him, "is my nephew, Zacharias. Zac, this here is Detective Decker. As I told you earlier, I've been working along with the L.A. Police Department on some cases," he had said nothing of the sort.
"You did say something like that. Sorry, I spaced out. You ramble a lot. You did not mention she was so beautiful, though," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He was Satan's nephew; beauty should not surprise him. "I mean no offense," he said to the detective. She was remarkably symmetrical. He could also see that wasn't at all what had his new uncle's attention. He looked at Lucifer. "It's her eyes, isn't it?" There was something different about her, something supernatural, and if he could feel it... "What was it called again? Limbal ring? The outer edge of the iris." He looked at her eyes. "Yours is incredibly prominent. It makes for very attractive eyes." Not a lie, not the truth. He turned to his uncle. "I can see why you are so taken with her." Lucifer looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided it was time to make his exit. "As nice as this... reunion was, I'm afraid I have things to do. It was very nice to see you well, uncle." He nodded his way. "Detective," he gave her a little nod and proceeded to walk towards the exit. He did send Lucifer a thumbs up when the detective couldn't see him.
There was no doubt in his mind that he'd have to pay for that later. The devil had invited him to tonight's show. Apparently, Lux put up a talent showcase for aspiring stars every once in a while. With the number of personalities Lucy said showed up, whoever stepped up to the plate pretty much had guaranteed success. Problems for future Zac, he decided.
He was walking along the beach.
The ocean always calmed his nerves, and after the last couple of hours, he thought he needed it. This...this was a little bit too much, even for him.
God.
He had the powers of God. And not like a god either, no sir, capital G and all. What was a guy supposed to do with that? Well, he knew what he would do, which was a whole lot of nothing, at least not right now. There was already a working God here, no need to mess with that. If things stayed as they were, he'd even meet her eventually. She was Lucifer's niece, after all. Speaking of which, he had made himself a new ID. Did the DEO still have his old one? No matter. He looked at his ID, or well, his national identity card. He was now a British citizen. Why Lucifer picked Britain as his birthplace was anyone's guess. He did have dual citizenship, though.
He sighed.
"I heard about your little kerfuffle with the DEO," Supergirl said.
She had arrived a few minutes ago, opting to stay silent while he walked. He had changed her normal street clothes to something more beach-appropriate, though.
"That's one way to put it. I didn't know you worked for asshats." Like seriously, what happened to the old-fashioned talks? Why the subterfuge? No one wanted that.
"They're not that bad." she defended.
He rolled his eyes. "Sure, they aren't. Anyways, I'm thinking of setting up camp here." At her incredulous look, he elaborated. "Not here, here. I'll make myself a little house in Malibu."
"I thought you were going to live in National City, you know, somewhere close to my house."
"Supergirl, I like you, I really do. But I don't even know your name yet. You haven't even deigned to give it to me." Before she could interject, he raised his hand. "No, no, I'm not admonishing you. It's quite okay, actually. You've known me for less than a day. It would be unfair for me to expect more from you. What you need to understand is that even if you want me to live nearby because of some sense of kinship, it is still my decision to make. And I'm not comfortable being under constant vigilance by the DEO. I am going to be doing my own thing."
"But I thought..." She was pouting, like, literally pouting.
"Hey, it's alright. Like, dude, you can fly here in less than a minute. Look at the bright side. I'm going to have this awesome beach house for us to relax in. You can even bring friends over. I'm sure you'll eventually find some. Win/win, if you ask me. Besides, I kind of like the idea of having the devil as a neighbor."
She paused there. "The devil? You met a demon?"
"No, no. The devil. As in Lucifer. Oh right, different planet. He is-"
"We do have religion." She interrupted. "And while many Kryptonians believed in Rao, there were mentions of Helel and his...family."
"Huh...well, I met him. He has a nightclub. It's called Lux if you want—oh wait, you can't go. Never mind. Speaking of Lucifer, look, I'm a Morningstar now," he said, showing her his ID. "Anyways, I think I'll stay in LA for now. Not many superhero problems over here. I think it'll do me good to stay out of the superhero game until I get my bearings, barring emergencies, obviously."
She still looked a little down, so he did the only thing he thought would lighten her mood. "You can have your own room if you want, in my house I mean. I've already created Kryptonian food. I don't think it would be difficult to recreate more Kryptonian stuff."
There was a squeal, and a surprise hug followed along by a surprise bone snap and a surprised groan.
A/N: I don't own anything besides myself and my OCs.
