5 years later…
The Guardian of the North Sea hovered above the dark waters day and night. Rumors had it she could see as far as the horizon allowed her and hear as far as the distant lands stretched into the beyond. Always prepared to swoop in like a powerful eagle at the sight of any perceived evil or injustice.
This was the North Law, the Law imposed upon the Valley conquered by the might of the Atlesian Military. It was nearly impossible to believe that the very fabric of Vale's culture could have changed so drastically in such a short time span.
Buildings were replaced from the ashes of the bombing during the war. Temples dedicated to the Seasons and the Lord God Ozymandias were crushed into rubble. And in their places rose vast halls of science, learning, and manufacturing. Entire systems of government and military were overhauled by Atlesian authority. New senators and governors appointed, councilors of old outvoted by new Atlesians politicians. The peoples from the North migrated further down into the majestic Valley as mighty walls grew over its borders to defend against what remained of rebels, pirates, and Grimm within the region.
It was like a completely different world.
But then again – it wasn't too long ago when it was deemed impossible to believe that a person could fly. Nobody could know what tomorrow had in store.
"… and this will be our fate, our future if we do not stop this tyranny this day my brothers," the revolutionary leader Adam Belladonna told his brethren in this secret meeting.
These halls within the dark tunnels of the underground sewers were the few remaining places left untouched by the hands of the Atlesian authority. But for how long, Adam could not tell. Here in the dark underbelly of the city, Adam was mobilizing his forces. Barrels of stolen Dust hauled inside to be repurposed into fuel, gunpowder, and explosives. Crates upon crates of food and supplies to last the coming Winter. But once Winter ended, not even he could foresee how long the rebellion would last.
"The risk, Adam," said Sun Wukong, voice trembling with exhaustion and concerns. "I don't know if we have the men for something of this scale."
"Keep faith, Sun, keep faith. I won't take with me every man and woman here, just a couple handfuls of our best. The risk will be rewarded, my friend. I am certain of it."
"Then let me come with you. I'd feel a lot better with the safety in numbers."
"You know I can't let you do that. I need you here, Sun. You are my best soldier, these people know and follow you. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I were to lose you as well."
Sun fell silent, head held down in a somber shadow, obscuring his eyes away. Adam still saw the anxiety in him regardless. Feeling the same weight and sorrow upon his brethren, he took off his ceremonial White Fang mask to look his men in the eyes. What they needed was the strength of the Lost Virtues, Adam would often describe, the old ways before the invasion. Old spirit of justice and honor.
"Have you seen my sister around?" He asked Sun, to which he shook his head.
"I think she went across town to check on our other base. I told her it was a bad idea to go out so late after dark, but she didn't listen. With that… thing in the sky watching us all day, every day."
"Let's be honest here, when has that thing ever stopped watching us?"
Their conversation was then cut short as the gate of the sewer systems to the South opened up for their fellow White Fang members to enter. More crates were being hauled through using great industrial robots designed for construction and heavy manual labor, with their large exoskeleton frames being piloted by skilled White Fang members to use these big and powerful mechanical arms, carrying the cargo.
Riding on the back of one of these huge machines was her – Ilia Belladonna, Adam's sister.
Pulling off her hooded cloak revealed a host of weaponry and tools she wore on her belt. Dangling on her hip was her signature rapier whip hybrid Lightning Lash, a versatile deadly tool for quick close-quarter combat. The weapon looked bloody, and still sparkling with electricity, fresh from a recent altercation, Adam assumed watching her entering their base.
"Ilia," Adam called as he approached. "You disobeyed a direct order and left the base. I told you to stay put to train the new recruits."
"Oh, give it a rest, Adam," Ilia smirked ever so slightly. "These guys can take care of themselves. They are stronger than you think."
"Not against that flying thing in the sky they aren't," he snapped. "What were you thinking? You could've gotten hurt, or worse."
"I recognized it as a risk, and took it – it paid off."
"What are you talking about?"
Ilia pulled forth from her tool belt a leather pouch. Inside contained a small cylindrical mechanism of some sort, almost like some sort of pill. One Adam would hesitate to swallow of course on the account of all the metal parts and green lights glowing on the side with a metallic golden coating.
"This is…" Sun gasped, "is that what I think it is?"
"The Doctor was right," Ilia smiled. "They've been manufacturing these pills on an industrial scale. These factories are huge Adam, some of them even hidden away, masked behind a school, a military base. They may cover as much as a quarter of the entire city."
Handing the pill over to Adam, Ilia leaned forth to whisper:
"This is the source of her power, the power of the Superman."
Adam quickly glanced about, making sure they were not overheard. His gaze darkened to a serious aura, one of focus and conviction.
"And you are absolutely sure?" Adam asked.
"Yes, I couldn't quite get my hands on their schematics. Their security was tight, but I did see the plans myself. This whole raid just got blown the fuck open. These guys aren't just bringing regular cargo, Adam. No supplies, food, or ammunition. But it's loaded to the brim with these. If we manage to get our hands on even one of these crates, it could change the course of this war."
"We have one pill right here," said Sun, "why not just use it now? If these pills are really as powerful as you say…"
"I'm not about to ingest something we have little to no knowledge of," Adam cut him off.
"He's right, Sun. It's too risky."
"The time will come, my friend," Adam laid his hand on Sun's shoulder. "Have faith, be patient. But the time for waiting is over, now is the time for action. Ilia, you're with me. Sun, keep a watchful eye, radio us if anything goes wrong."
Sun looked on, uncertain and hesitant of both the plan, the pill, and even his sister Ilia. But he trusted Adam. The one man who could lead the Valley out of slavery and into freedom. He dared not imagine what the revolution would be like without Adam at the helm, or worse, if the revolution would exist at all.
2 hours later…
"Train approaching in T-minus three minutes," said Ilia looking through her binoculars.
"Alright men, ready yourselves," Adam sheathed his recently sharpened sword. "Remember, we cripple, but we do not kill. Our goal is the cargo aboard that train, nothing more. In and out, before that thing hovering in the sky even notices us."
"Two minutes," said Ilia, shivering in the cold.
It was said in ancient folklore that the beginning of snowfall was often an ill omen of things to come. In Northern Atlesian Sagas, the coming of Winter was the beginning of what the people of the North called Ragnarok. It was an old word with no meaning, from a tongue older than the peoples of the North themselves, in a civilization long past. Scholars could only guess what it could mean, but combing through the frozen sagas and tattered poems and forgotten rhymes, they thought one of the possible translations was that of "The End Time."
The word came from a bizarre language, one the scholars weren't even sure was of this planet. Where did it come from? Were they an ancestor of ours? If not – then where did we come from?
A question Adam posed against the Atlesians every single day since the invasion, since Vale fell. Born of a hateful fire within that will not cease.
A beacon of rage and hope he carried with him and his men as they all leaped off the snowy mountainside and unto the roaring train in the distance. Their timing was as swift as the wind, quiet as the night. No one suspected a thing in the middle of this furious snowstorm.
"Come in, Adam," Sun called him through their earpieces, "talk to me, brother."
"We made it in, Sun," Adam whispered. "Looks like some kind of boiler room, steam pipes everywhere. The cargo car can't be far off now. Two cars ahead if the schematics we have are accurate."
"Alright, keep in touch, you hear? Over and out."
Despite the almost archaic metal pipes steaming all over the place in this train car, the interior seemed clean to an eerie degree. Walls waxed down to a black reflective shine so clear Adam and his crew could see themselves in the wall, as a bizarre sensation befell upon them. It was as if someone was watching them from behind the reflective surfaces.
Red neon lights lit violently throughout the entire train car. Adam suspected them to be mechanical wiring of some kind. All leading towards a bright red door with a number pad attached on the side. There was only one door in this entire train car, however, which puzzled Adam. He was sure that there were other train cars behind them. If so, how would the people on the train get to the back?
"Do we have the passcode to the door?" Ilia asked.
"I can hack into the system," said one of the men, a technician, as he pulled out of his backpack a portable computer. "It will take a couple minutes."
"Do what you need to do," said Adam.
"Right, while he does that," Ilia turned to her brother. "Do we have an escape plan? Some kind of backup in case we get caught?"
"I already have contingencies in place. Sun, my best soldier will carry them out to ensure our legacy will survive even if we do not."
"Don't be stupid now," Ilia snapped, "stop talking like you are going to die. You are the face of the revolution. You CANNOT die. We need a plan for the immediate future, practical contingencies for the now, not the far future."
Adam nodded his head solemnly, before glancing about, making sure they were not being watched. He then pulled forth his sheathed blade, letting his sister and his men marvel at the crimson colors shining in the dark.
"The most powerful machine the Atlas Empire possesses is the Atlesian Paladin model 290. Our men retrieved a prototype of the machine not long ago from a military base in the South of the Valley. We've been experimenting and dissecting the materials and construction of the model, fascinating to see how Atlas utilizes Dust infused compounds to strengthen the molecular bond of the metal. Particularly Gravity Dust. It emits a powerful gravitational field that can deflect potential attacks, leaving the metal itself unharmed. Any ordinary material would be completely useless against such a defense. But if I were to strike it with an equal but counter gravitational field…"
"You'll be able to cut their machines?" Ilia asked.
"I don't know for certain," Adam sheathed his sword once more. "I do know that we only have enough Gravity Dust to power my blade for a single strike. No more, no less. I am confident in its strength, however. I can even amplify the strike with my Aura to allow for a range attack. If it is a machine of any kind, a robot, an android, or even just body armor, I will be able to cut through."
"I don't know Adam," said the technician, still working on the door. "The science here seems a little dubious. Sounds a bit hard to believe."
"Look, I'm not about to waste time bringing these samples to a secret lab somewhere in the country-side to have it peer-reviewed," said Adam. "We can't afford to lose any more time, we'll just have to take that leap of faith and go off on the data we do have."
"And… you plan on cutting… the Superman?"
Adam responded by putting on his White Fang mask, securing it tight:
"That is my contingency plan. That thing is too powerful to live. If we fail this mission, then I would like to at the very least kill that disgusting robot, or android, or whatever the fuck it is."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," said Ilia.
"Got it," said the technician. "We're in."
"Not a moment too soon. Quietly now men."
They marched forth into the next train car. Peculiarly, however – it was empty. Nothing inside but the same reflective black surfaces, red neon lights, and a single nonfunctioning supercomputer. Adam quickly signaled his men to check out the device to absolutely no avail. They found no way to turn it on, but more concerning however was that the keyboard was completely solid – none of the buttons could be pressed.
"Could they have changed the cargo car? Expecting a raid?" Ilia wondered.
"I don't know," said Adam, looking around, "let's keep moving. Maybe it's in the car ahead this one. It's got to be…"
A sudden metallic scratching sound made Adam's head turn. It sounded almost as if it was coming from within the reflective surfaces of the walls. But when he tried to look inside, he could see nothing. The wall was as solid as it could be.
"What… the hell was that?" Ilia touched the wall, feeling the smooth metallic surface.
Only to then turn around to face the sound of dripping liquid. There behind them the technician stood, barely able to string together cohesive thoughts:
"S…something… my… chest…" he muttered, as he fell face-first onto the floor with a fountain of blood oozing from his back. A sharp blade had pierced his heart.
To Adam's horror, the completely empty reflection had sprouted forth a metallic blade in the shape of a crescent moon. Soon the black surface would birth forth some kind of black ooze, foul beyond belief. It smelt of raw iron, boiling at a temperature that was difficult to comprehend, as if a kind of cold heat. But when the blob reformed itself back into its shape, Adam could see the humanoid mold that made up this metal man who just murdered one of his men.
One by one, from behind each of the men came these towering inhuman monsters melting out of the walls of the car. Adam initially thought they were coming from inside the reflection. Baffled by the technology that made it possible, wondering if it was really a magic trick of some kind. But one by one, he realized they weren't actually in the reflection. They were merely a part of the train's makeup, hiding in plain sight until the opportune moment.
"ADAM! HELP!" The men shouted in horror as they were torn apart, limb from limb. Some had their arms and legs cut off. Another had their entire torso pulled apart by two of the faceless monstrous androids. Their screams were deafening, and yet these androids made no sound.
"We have to go, Ilia, MOVE, MOVE!"
Without hesitation, the girl pulled forth from her pouch a handful of fire Dust and immediately pressed it against the hard surface of the metal door before them. The Dust began dispersing its energies across the surface area, melting away the metal. The heat it produced was extraordinary, and the excruciating pain seared on the flesh of Ilia's palm did not make it easy, for she was forced to hold it there for a good few seconds before the heat could fully melt the door.
"You alright?" Adam shouted, shooting off his shotgun to ward off the androids.
"Fine, fine, let's GO!"
The two of them leapt straight onto the next car. This one was roofless, but incredibly vast. It held a large shipment of some kind of supplies. Piles and piles of crates being tied down by strong metallic cables and various smaller chains.
"This is it," Ilia cried. "Adam, slice them open. I'll hold them off."
Upon closer inspection, Adam noticed the chains themselves were made out of the same Dust infused metal their crew had been expecting. Peculiarly, however, the cables were not made out of that same material. Instead, merely something ordinary, weaker.
Adam wasted no time slicing the cable apart with his uncharged sword. So fast it almost looked as if he never even unsheathed his blade to begin with. Scrambling to get the cables off, Adam began to sweat – his eyes twitched ever so slightly under his mask. It was a quirk that Ilia had always been able to notice regardless of whether he was wearing a mask. It was exactly that kind of intuition that made Adam trust her so much, no matter how much he scolded her for disobedience.
"Any day now!" Ilia cried, whipping the androids with her Lightning Lash. To little effect, however, as the androids' defenses and durability were unlike anything the two of them had ever seen before.
Only the nails on these crates remained. Risking bending his own blade, he took it out and shoved it into the crack under the lid. And with the momentum and destructive power of the shotgun component on the blade, Adam managed to not only pry off the lid, but completely destroyed the nails holding it together, even charring the wood ever so slightly.
The lid violently flew off – but to Adam's absolute petrifying shock when he looked inside, there was nothing.
The crate was empty.
"What is this?"
But before Adam could even begin to process this anomaly, he heard there in the sky – the unmistakable soaring sound through the violent wind. Breaking the sound barrier with ease. From afar, one could mistake it to be a mere bird, or some kind of airplane.
But when she landed down onto the platform at a speed faster than anyone could humanly track, Adam knew right then – this was the end. Because that was no bird, nor plane.
This was the Guardian of the North Sea, the symbol of Atlas itself.
The Superman.
They had all heard the stories, rumors about this being who soared in the sky, descending from on high down to where mortals lived. Hovering barely above ground as if a display of dominance and status. Subtly saying 'this is my place, always above you.' She never walked, never touched her boots down the solid ground. But here, her feet were firmly planted, impossible to knock over or remove.
A woman so tall one could hardly believe she was a woman at all, or even human. Taller than most men, most soldiers. On her back was the regal flowing cape of a god walking amongst men. A pure white cape with a silky red surface underneath. They laid attached firmly behind the golden epaulettes on her shoulders, worn over a dashing white Atlesian military uniform with a red tie. The service cap she wore was adorned with brilliant silver decorating the Atlas emblem, truly it was the purest symbol of the Northern strength and empire.
The woman looked Adam dead in his eyes, piercing with an angry shade of blue. Eyes so focused she never even once blinked, not even in the face of all the debris flying to obscure her vision. She looked straight onward, just as Adam stared back at her with his own jealous rage.
On the side of her hip, the woman carried with her a peculiarly designed rapier. So different compared to Ilia's design. Resting her hands on the hilt of the sword, her fingers tapped patiently as her eyes scanned the environment. Never once did Adam even think or felt that she was going to draw forth her sword. And yet a growing fear brewed from within – because Adam was more afraid of what those hands wrapped in the pure white gloves were capable of. Fearing the stains that will paint the fabric.
Adam knew of the truth long ago, the truth that one's true strength could not be within any steel or tool. But instead in what their bare hands could wield.
It wasn't too long after did many soldiers began emerging from behind the Superman, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of their hat. Atlesians in full white body armor, aiming their rifles toward Adam and Ilia. They were completely surrounded. On one side, the androids which had recently murdered all of their White Fang brethren, on the other – the flowing cape signaling the banner of Atlas.
"Adam Belladonna, by the orders of the High Council of Atlas, you are hereby under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say shall be revealed upon your date before the court. You have the right to an attorney, appointed by a power on high to be impartial, serving only the will of the just and the mighty. Here under the flag of Atlas, your crimes will be paid in full."
"Adam…" Ilia whispered, trembling.
But the only thing that left Adam's mouth then was a long sigh of relief. Almost as if the man had been waiting for this moment his entire life. Now unafraid of anything that may come.
"Trust in me, Ilia. Please, I beg of you. The sun will shine on us again – I promise you."
With that, Adam drew forth his blade to strike a furious anger. A power brewing from within the sheath and the steel, vibrating on a subatomic level with an intense gravitational field that ruptured the air itself. The slash was swift, and so fast sound did not even begin to emerge until a good few seconds after he had already struck.
Slowly, but surely the air began to lighten, splitting off just as the metal of the train began to split. All of the train cars in front of them, Adam never counted how many, though it must have been at least the length of half the entire train. All coated in powerful Atlesian Dust infused metal mere moments ago.
And now they were cleaved violently off, the entire upper section and roofs of these cars viciously severed by this horizontal strike, as easily as a child tearing through paper with a pair of scissors. But this was a clean cut, straight and well-practiced. So much so that Adam had already sheathed his blade by the time the bodies of the many soldiers before them even touched the floor. They were cut clean through, their body armor did little to protect them.
In seeing this blood, Adam felt a twinge of excitement from within, something he could hardly explain. A rage, a madness that echoed like a loud horn.
All of which however paled in comparison to the sound of the distress bell signaling inside Adam's head as he witness the impossibility standing before him. The soldiers were dead, the train was cut in half, NOBODY could have survived such a strike, he thought.
Nobody – except for the Superman.
The woman stood there without a single scratch. Not even a trace of blood staining her perfect skin nor her white uniform. She merely tilted her head, staring at Adam with her raging eyes.
"What did you do?" Ilia asked, falling to the ground.
"No…" Adam whimpered, "What… the fuck… no… what… WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?"
Without missing a beat, the woman dashed forth at a speed so fast Adam did not even notice her move. Grabbing tightly onto his White Fang mask, and with little effort, crushing it into pieces with her fingers grabbing tightly onto Adam's skull. Easily lifting him off his feet.
It felt like he was being lifted by a hook. Any effort of him trying to claw his way out, trying to escape this iron grip was futile. Punching, scraping at the sturdy arm that lifted him up felt like he was punching a concrete wall. The more he struggled, the more he felt her fingers digging deeper into his skull.
He thought he was about to black out. But instead, the woman simply pulled him closer, close enough to hear each other's breath.
She whispered into his ear:
"I am – Atlas."
Without even letting him process, the woman turned around to the front of the train and effortlessly threw Adam off deep into the distance as if the man weighed as much as a pebble. Launching him forward hundreds of miles in the distance.
As Adam flew through the air, he thought to himself:
"This… this is what it means… to be Super? To be Beyond?"
For all his life, Adam had always thought he was a fast one, but he knew no matter how fast he could run, nobody could possibly outrun the speed of thought. That was until today at the very least, where in this infinitesimal timeframe before he could even finish his current thought and answer his own question, he noticed a violent whooshing of the wind passing by his side as he flew far past the front of the train.
The violent stop midair almost knocked the wind out of his lungs and he once again found himself at the grip of the Superman, firmly grasping onto his neck. But amazingly showing so much control to the point of not instantly crushing his windpipe, giving him just enough to breathe as she tossed him onto the ground.
The train approached in the far distance, barreling straight toward where they were like that of a massive battering ram. The front train car was cleanly cut in half, the control panels were sliced to ribbons, and the conductor's body lied bleeding out on the cold steel floor beneath.
Adam knew in a mere few seconds, the approaching train would come to run the two of them over, flattening them with ease. In his delirious madness of course he forgot the most crucial detail in this entire stressful chaos. That being the one standing before him was not a mortal.
She was Beyond that.
Unsheathing her blade for the first time, she pointed forth toward the train. The cylindrical chamber at the hilt of the rapier spun beautifully like that of a revolver, calibrating the correct type of ammunition needed for the job beforehand. But the more the rapier spun, the more the spin looked like an ever-evolving black hole generating a huge amount of power in the purple electric spark bursting out of the blade.
Adam recognized the color – that was the color of Gravity Dust. No mistake about it.
And when she slammed down the sword, stabbing it straight down onto the dirt beneath the train track, Adam could feel the very earth beneath him rumble with a quake unlike anything he could ever dream of. The crack from the ground created by the blade pushed forth a massive wave of energy so dense it instantly pushed back the coming train, flattening the steel with ease as if the entire thing was slamming its head against a concrete wall.
This massive invisible gravitation force field felt wide like an endless sea, and towering like the mightiest monument of man. There was simply something awe-inspiring about a train being lifted off the ground like a piece of tin because of the sudden halt against this invisible wall. Debris flew everywhere, blinding Adam as he struggled to track the whereabouts of the Superman. Who had already flown high up into the sky, leaving her blade behind to maintain the gravity wall as she anticipated the train cars soaring off the ground. Adam tried to track where she was flying, but he seemed to always be one step behind where she was really going to be, always ahead.
Before long, the individual crumpled train cars were being placed down gently to the side of the train track one by one. Each one placed down safely before the shadow of the Superman sped off to catch another one. Adam looked into the sky, beholding this force from on high. The image of a god carrying a hunk of metal on her back, slowly descending to the earth where he was, was something that was seared deep into his mind. The flowing of her cape whistled in the wind, as the sun behind her blinded any mortal's eyes below, projecting a silhouette that was barely visible underneath the massive cargo train she lifted on her shoulder with ease. Almost as if subtly telling the mortals, all of them, the status of the Superman, the status of a god who will always be above them all.
Adam bit his lower lip, letting it bleed profusely out as the echo of the silent rage inside him burst forth. The dam had been broken, this world had changed, and it shall never be the same ever again now that a god was walking amongst mortals. A god who could carry all of Atlas on her back, a heavenly burden no one could ever hope to comprehend.