Chapter Summary
Previously, Lois and Jimmy headed to the crashed spaceship, where they found a trio from the League of Lois Lanes.
Now, Lois and Jimmy try to convince the team from the League of Lois Lanes that they can help with their mission. Clark and Mxy arrive on a strange and sandy world. Lina, Eriks, and a man dressed in black converge in Kasted City.
———
Lois stood up slowly, raising her hands, "Don't shoot, please!"
Jimmy hastily pushed himself up and did the same.
"You two? Again? Those guys?" A chorus of exclamations sounded off from Lewis and his companions.
"I think we could say the same for you three," Lois replied. "Do you mind lowering those?" She nodded to the blasters.
Lewis frowned but did so after a moment. He turned to Punk Lois and nodded for her to reholster hers as well. The woman grunted but acquiesced.
Before Lewis or the others could start questioning them, Lois spoke up first. "What did you do with our Clark?"
"Your Clark? Nothing. He has nothing to do with this," Lewis responded, flicking his bangs. He was apparently in charge of this small operation this time. "You shouldn't get in the way of our business here. This is a matter strictly for the League."
"Cut the crap," Lois snapped. "You're after Mxy again, right? And we can't find Clark. I'm guessing Mxy tricked Clark into helping him again? " Lois started walking closer with her arms pulled tight around her chest. She was even more worried about Clark but didn't want to let it show.
Lewis turned to Punk Lois and Jalana. "Can we get a ping on this Earth's Superman?"
"Yes, sir," Jalana replied, tapping at her gauntlet. "There's a lot of Kryptonian energy readings in this location from the imperial fleet ship, but we might be able to locate him with data we collected last time…" she mumbled as she worked.
Jalana was quietly mumbling for a while, analyzing whatever info she was looking at. She started walking off in the direction of that crater where Clark landed after the encounter yesterday.
"So, what was Mxy doing this time?" Lois asked, impatiently prying for more information.
"I'm sorry. I'm not at liberty to say," Lewis replied dismissively.
"Hey! We helped you capture that chaos elf guy last time. And if Clark got roped into his mess again, don't you think we could help stop him this time, too?" Jimmy argued, backing up his pal Lois.
"Lewis, James might be correct… Earth-12 Superman's signature follows Mxy's throughout this general area. But a second trace of 5th-dimensional portal energy is being detected over by that crater." Jalana spoke up as she walked back to the group.
"What? Portal? Where'd Clark go then?" Jimmy asked. His voice rose in pitch like it always did when he was nervous.
Jalana was about to reply, but Lewis cut her off with a stern gesture. "We can't answer that. But when we find them, we'll ensure he's taken into custody. If we find he was aiding the fugitive unwillingly and has not broken any other multiversal laws, we can return him here where he belongs."
Jimmy and Lois looked at each other, worry but determination in their eyes.
"Please, Clark is a good man. He… he wouldn't be helping Mxy unless he had a really good reason. He doesn't want to cause any trouble, but he can't help helping others!" Lois's eyes blazed with a fury of passion.
"I… we've seen what other Supermen can do when they're not like our Clark. But that is not him! That will never be him," she swiped her hand through the air, shaking her head adamantly.
Punk Lois stepped forward with arms crossed, "What do you mean you've seen what other Supermen can do?" Her rough voice dripped with suspicion.
Again, Jimmy and Lois looked at each other, a silent question passing between them.
Lois began, thinking of something to say. "Well, there was this, um, almost alien invasion yesterday." She gestured around with her hands to all the wreckage. "You know, um, people like Clark were attacking before he fended them off."
The League members all stared at them like they were crazy. Punk Lois then snarled, "Don't lie to us. You forget who you're talking to. We are League of Lois Lanes. We know he's called the Last Son of Krypton for a reason! There's no—"
Jimmy and Lois took a few steps back at the other Lois's outburst.
"Enough!" Lewis shouted. "Our Earth-12 counterparts do not need to learn anything more about that."
The reporter pair were almost too startled to let what she said sink in. The Last Son. But how could that be? Those ships were all the evidence that there were whole fleets of people like Clark out there somewhere, right?
"Look, we get it," Lois tried placating the Leaguers. "There are things you all know about other universes' Supermen. Clark really doesn't know about it either, and we're all just trying to figure it out together.
"But we can still help find and bring back our Clark. Maybe we can even help you catch Mxy again."
"Lewis… maybe they can help," Jalana said to her commanding officer, taking pity on the girl and her counterpart.
"No! We don't need them getting in the way," Punk Lois interjected, swiping her arms in an X motion. She looked to Lewis, hoping he'd see reason.
Lewis didn't look at either of those two. Instead, he took in the expressions of the younger Lois and Jimmy before him. He put a hand up to quiet his companions.
"We've recently detected a dimensional anomaly originating from another galaxy in the Earth-12 universe. Our flagship went to investigate while we were sent to track down Mxyzptlk. It seems like he's been multiverse hopping, but we're not sure what his intentions are as of yet," he explained methodically to the shocked expressions of all four of the others.
"Are you telling us this because you'll let us help?" Jimmy said, his voice rising a little in pitch in his excitement. He'd hung onto every word the League officer said.
Lewis nodded. "But I have a number of conditions. First, you'll answer our question honestly. How have you gained knowledge of other Supermen?"
Jimmy just looked at his shoes, glancing over to Lois. Lois shut her eyes for a moment, letting out a slow sigh. Then she reluctantly dug into her shoulder bag and grabbed the stolen data sphere. With a shaky grasp, she reached out to hand the orb to Lewis.
"You all showed such animosity towards Clark before, but I just couldn't understand why. Clark… Clark is the purest, kindest, most gentle soul I know. But I let my distrust of you—and my curiosity—lead me to do something I regretted." She couldn't look Lewis in the eye.
Jalana covered her mouth with her hands. Punk Lois glared at the orb, teeth clenched in a grimace. Lewis's expression seemed less aloof than usual and mostly unreadable.
"We'll need to return this to HQ as soon as possible. If the Commander finds out this was taken, there will be consequences." He looked to Lois and Jimmy first with a stern expression. They merely nodded quietly. "For us as well." He looked over to his subordinates. Their expressions turned sour.
The tension hung heavy in the chill November air. A frigid breeze caused everyone in the group to shiver.
"Let's get back to HQ, and we can brief Lois and James there," he turned to Jalana. "Olsen?"
With a quiet "Yes, sir," Jalana dragged her gaze back down to her gauntlet.
With that, all five vanished from the fields of Smallville.
—T —
Falling from the sky wasn't something Clark usually experienced. But at that moment, his ability to defy gravity hadn't kicked in automatically. The momentum from being spit out of a portal a couple of hundred feet in the air had him hurtling ground-bound.
For the first time, Clark momentarily felt the instinctual terror of falling–not flying.
Before he could even register anything else, he crashed hard into the ground. Thankfully, he was cushioned by the soft, malleable surface. Instead of a resounding boom of the crash, a geyser of warm sand and dust exploded outwards from the impact. The sand was in his mouth, in his ears, pooling all over him.
He frantically dug his way out of the sinkhole–the sand kept pouring in to fill the empty spaces. The self-rescue would have been a more difficult task without his super strength. On his knees, he spit repeatedly, trying to get sand out of his mouth and tapping the side of his head to get it out of his ears and hair.
He pulled off his dust-coated glasses, then unzipped and shimmied out of his heavy jacket. He rocked back to a sitting position, hands braced behind him.
Breathing heavily, more from the shock than the exertion, Clark looked around. He hoped to spot any sort of landmark or sign of civilization but failed miserably. As far as his regular vision could see, there was nothing but an ocean of sand.
Wha–? Wh-Where am I? Some kind of a desert wasteland?
His jaw dropped when he saw not one but two suns setting low on the horizon. He rubbed his eyes, but the two were still there when he opened them.
I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore. Or on Earth, for that matter.
After a breather, he looked around to find Mr. Mxyzptlk. A couple yards behind him, he saw two little purple pant legs and soft shoes wiggling desperately in the sand.
Clark stumbled in his rush to get up and help the imp from his predicament. It was easy enough to tug on Mxy's legs and pull him out. The imp hung upside down limply until Clark righted him and gently sat him down. For a minute, Clark felt bad for the little guy. He brushed some sand off the imp's hair and shoulders.
Mxy gasped for breath. He looked pale and exhausted. His pointy ears drooped low, and he was covered in sweat, the sand sticking to his face.
"A-Are you okay?" Clark asked, his hands raised as if to help but unsure what to do.
"I'll…I'll be alright. You're a… lifesaver, pal," Mxy breathed out in pants. "Without my hat… still…weaker than… I used to be."
Clark let the imp catch his breath while he looked around some more. He used his heightened senses to try and get any info he could.
With his super-hearing, he could hear an unfamiliar hum from above and a low rumbling from deep below the ground.
Looking up, the hum seemed to come from an expansive shimmering wave of glowing green high in the sky. The sight reminded him of a mix between a murmuration of starlings and the northern lights.
Then Clark strained his sight, looking to find any sort of civilization, and came up with what looked like some kind of outpost further…north? Just barely making out the sign, it depicted what appeared to be a lightbulb and read, "Plant Station."
"I think I see an outpost in the distance," Clark said, looking down at Mxy. "Maybe we should head there and let you rest." Although Clark wasn't bothered by extreme temperatures, he could tell it was scorching. It definitely was not the beginning of winter, wherever they were.
Mxy nodded and shakily stood up. He brushed himself off the best he could.
"Before we go anywhere, we'll need to get into character, wouldn't ya say," Mxy grinned, perking up quickly.
Clark opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but Mxy snapped his fingers, and Clark felt that weird sensation when the imp used his transformation powers on him.
In a puff of smoke, Clark looked down at himself and realized Mxy had materialized him a new outfit. In a way, it looked like his Superman uniform, but it had a western flair to it. Instead of a cape, around his shoulders was more like a cloak–it wrapped around his shoulders in the front, covering his neck and the front of his left shoulder. A blue double-breasted button-down vest layered over a lighter half-sleeve shirt with rolled cuffs, leaving his upper forearms bare.
The iconic 'S' shield was still present on his chest between the panels of the vest.
Covering his hands were rusty brown leather gauntlet gloves. The wide belt around his waist matched the brown leather of the gloves and featured a golden buckle. He wore denim pants stained a rich navy blue and dark red leather boots with thick heels and soles, better for walking in the desert landscape.
And to finish off the look, a tan hide-colored, wide-brim hat with a thin brown band and golden buckle.
Mxy snapped again, and that obelisk-shaped device that had been in Clark's coat pocket reappeared, floating in mid-air. He waved his hand, and it flung towards Clark.
"Now, don't lose that. You'll be needing it." Clark nodded and slipped it away in a small satchel on his belt.
Mxy snapped his fingers yet again, and this time, his outfit changed as well.
He sported a small purple bowler hat–though just an imitation of the one back at the League's headquarters. His cape, eastern-styled garb, and beaded necklace shifted into a purple frock coat with matching trousers, orange vest, and green satin puff tie. His soft shoes transformed into rigid lace-up boots.
"Looking good, sonny!" Mxy said with a grin, appraising his artistry. "Well? What do you think?"
Still looking down and examining all the small details, Clark replied, "Uh, I feel like I'm in a space western. Am I supposed to be a cowboy?"
"You catch on quick, buck-a-roo!" He beamed. "But not exactly. The aesthetic is popular among the locals around here. No cows or horses, though," he said with a shrug. "Guess they didn't have room on the ships for Earthling livestock."
"Anyway!" Mxy spiraled up into the sky lazily. "Where's that rest stop? I'm beat! Ohhh, maybe they have snacks too."
—T —
Sitting at the bar of a little saloon on the outskirts of Kasted City, a black-haired traveler dressed in an all black suit and black-tinted sunglasses savored a cool glass of whiskey on the rocks.
The ride into town was nothing eventful, but the unbearable July heat had him dragging. Not that it was much cooler any other time of the year.
Thank the lord for his exceptional constitution. Not that the lord had anything to do with his constitution. Instead, he could thank a batty old mad scientist for that.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood was no ordinary traveling priest–yes, he promoted himself from humble undertaker, it was better for business.
He was also one of Dr. Conrad's guinea pigs, one of his best, in fact. And sometimes mercenary for hire. Not that he gave a damn about that side hustle anymore if he could help it. Well, that was until the generous doctor offered him another contract he just couldn't say no to.
His kids had suffered enough at the Hopeland orphanage, and times were always tough on No Man's Land.
Three days ago, Wolfwood got word from the locals of another no-name town south of Lost July about a Vash the Stampede sighting in Kasted City. He'd brushed it off as another baseless rumor. But a contract was a contract, and this was his latest lead.
So he packed up what little belongings he owned into his bags, hefted his Punisher cross over his shoulder, and headed to the nearest bus station.
And so three days later, the bus rode into Kasted City, dropping off a tired priest. A frantic crowd shoved and trampled in a hurry to get on the bus, taking his place. Parched, sweaty, and eager for a smoke and drink, Wolfwood pushed through the mob, pulled himself over the side of the vehicle, and grabbed Punisher from the roof. Hoisting the cross over his shoulder, Wolfwood began walking into town and the first saloon-slash-inn he could find.
The local saloon-goers warmly welcomed him with gun barrels aimed right at his face. With hand raised to return the welcome, the locals lowered their firearms and paid him no more mind. What a lovely location for tourism, he thought with a smirk and sat down at the bar.
The priest downed a pitcher of water before getting a glass or two of something a little more to his taste and ordering something more appetizing than barbecued worm meat. After a few drinks and a meal, he could get that smoke, then head upstairs to his pathetic excuse of a room and shower–the sweat and grime of a stuffy bus ride needed to go.
Of course, a nice, relaxing afternoon after his three days of travel was too much to ask for.
Just as he had his whiskey glass raised to his lips, a resounding boom and shockwave from nearby shook the whole saloon. He covered his glass with his palm as dust peppered down around him. He could make out the dust cloud rising upward outside the window near the front of the bar, where folks gathered around to see what was going on.
Goddammit, can't a man get a drink peace?
A minute later, the swing doors of the saloon slammed open with a bang. Wolfwood could hear the sounds of chair legs scraping against the floor as the locals all stood up behind him, raising their guns.
The 'holy man' knew this was going to be a hell of a day.
—L —
Lois, Lois, Lewis, Jimmy, and Jalana stepped through the portal into the modest-size League-issued spacecraft that was orbiting Earth-12. The League members made their way to their stations while Jalana showed Lois and Jimmy where they could sit.
Jimmy, never tired of the novelty of their wild adventures, couldn't help the huge grin on his face as he looked out the viewport to see the stunning sight of Earth from space. He pointed enthusiastically like a child for Lois to come look too. Being used to his antics, Lois smiled and enjoyed the view herself.
Once the League ship entered hyperspace on their way to HQ, Jalana and Jimmy found themselves chatting Flamebro-speak. Jimmy explained that Perry had bought his Flamebird channel and was now a multi-millionaire. Jalana was floored when he went into details about his big plans for his next venture. In return, she talked about a bunch of weird stuff she hadn't got a chance to share in their last brief encounter.
Lewis had to keep reminding Jalana not to divulge any classified information while he was busy filling out a report log. Punk Lois tried to ignore the newcomers and stick to manning the navigation.
Lois sat quietly, observing the others. She wanted to learn more about the League while they had their guard down and investigate more subtly, not asking a bunch of questions for once.
She was also plotting what she and Jimmy might need to do if the League showed any signs of turning on them or plans to harm Clark once they found him. Anything to not think about yesterday and her thrice broken relationship with her father.
Instead, she pictured the lives these other Lois's might've led.
The Lois in the leather jacket with spiky hair seemed to have an even worse temper than her. Her distrust in others was something fierce. Lois's eyes kept being drawn to Punk Lois's metal arm. What kind of danger must she have been in to lose her real arm? What kind of world had nurtured a Lois to be a complete stranger?
Lewis. Was Lewis the son his father had always wanted? Between her and her estranged younger sister Lucy, her father had always been so disappointed not to have a son to follow in his footsteps. Lois also didn't want to make assumptions, but what if Lewis had been a Lois, female assigned at birth–and into adolescence, became aware of his authentic gender? It was none of her business, but the scenarios nonetheless played out in her mind. She wondered what it would have been like for herself; her father may have outright disowned her. Thinking of her father's prejudice, it would have destroyed her not to be accepted in that way.
She could see a lot of Jimmy in Jalana. It made sense, but she also could picture them as siblings rather than alternate versions of each other. Twins maybe. Knowing what each other might be feeling at any given moment and finishing each other's sentences. Sharing hobbies and secrets but always challenging each other, making small things into competitions. Getting into dumb arguments that left them not speaking for days until they forgot what they were even fighting about and made up later, laughing again like old times. Being stuck at the hip until they were just old enough to strive for their individuality. But always in each other's orbits, even when they sought their own paths in life.
The stories Lois wrote in her mind about them had her emotions swinging from one extreme to the other. Pity. Sorrow. Compassion. Tenderness. If just her imagination came up with these scenarios, how much would their actual stories affect her?
Did Lewis and Lois even feel scared for her and Jimmy when they saw that giant spaceship in the middle of the Kent Farm, knowing what Clark's people were capable of? Did being a part of the League change them so much that they could so easily dismiss what they'd witnessed, saying it 'wasn't their problem?'
Her thoughts were interrupted as the ship jolted, exiting hyperspace in a flash of light.
The towering headquarters shined starkly in contrast with the darkness of space around it. The white construct was shaped like a wine bottle stopper with a triangular ring rotating around the center. A nebulous space cloud glowed with a tint of red and golden light, and small asteroids floated lazily around just past the station's force field.
The scout ship slowed into a smooth landing maneuver along the edge of a docking bay. The bay doors opened, allowing the ship entry, and Punk Lois skillfully set the craft down as gently as a feather.
The group debarked with Lois and Jimmy sandwiched in the middle.
Last time, they didn't get a good chance to look around. Especially for Jimmy, who'd arrived just as Mr. Mxyzptlk was in the middle of his rampage.
Jimmy's jaw hung open wide, his eyes sparkling as they walked through the Hall of Lois Lane History. He lifted his camera to take pictures of the holographic monuments, but Punk Lois stepped forward and pushed his camera down with a scowl. Jimmy apologized, but when she turned around, he stuck out his tongue at her.
The automatic doors opened at the end of the hall with an airy hiss, leading into the main chamber of the headquarters.
The vast chamber spiraled up at sharp angles a good twenty-some floors. Walkways between floors crisscrossed in the central column, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Numerous hallways branched out along the outer ring of balconies leading to who-knows-where.
The mainframe control console for that floor stood right in front of the group as they marched into the spacious room.
Lewis swept his gaze around to make sure there was no one around. A group of figures on the uppermost levels walked into a hallway out of sight. Another headed past them into the docking bay hall. The unfamiliar Jimmy and Lois pair gave the newcomers appraising looks but didn't say anything other than cordial greetings to their League mates.
Once the main chamber was clear of onlookers, Lewis approached the control panel.
Lewis swiftly typed in some commands, and the green holo-screen phased into sight with a bunch of gibberish. That cavity in front of the console opened, and Lewis dropped the Superman File X data sphere back inside.
The grip of tension the Leaguers had been tightly holding in loosened. They sighed, and their shoulders relaxed noticeably.
Even Lois felt relieved that the orb was now out of her possession. She was glad not to have that file tempting her to watch those horrible recordings over and over again.
"Well, now that that is taken care of…" Lewis began, regaining more of his aloof presence. "We should check in with the flagship and debrief with Alpha team."
"Olsen, can you find uniforms for James and Lois? Then meet us in conference room 103A?"
"Yes, sir," Jalana replied, heading down one of the halls to their left.
"This way," Lewis said to the rest of the party and headed down a hall in the opposite direction. After a few turns down the corridor, a placard near the door frame indicated the room they sought.
Inside was a round table fit for about ten people. A round, techy device rested in the middle. Lewis took a seat at the far side of the table. There sat a similar interface console on which he tapped in a few commands. A three-dimensional greenish hologram filled the room, projected from the round device in the center of the table.
A translucent bust of a figure came into view a moment later. The figure was a light-skinned man with freckles. Despite the green tint of the projection, it was obvious he had vibrant red hair combed neatly to one side.
"This is Lewis Lane of Earth-29 with Gamma team, reporting in. We request a debrief with Commander Lane and an update on Alpha team's status." Lewis spoke to the figure.
"Gamma team, we received your written report," the redhead replied. Lois looked over to Jimmy with surprise, noting the uncanny similarity of their voices.
"I will alert the Commander to your request. Please standby," Redhead Jimmy answered. Without waiting for a reply, he cut off the transmission. The holo-device went dim.
"And now more waiting," Lois grumbled under her breath. With a sigh and subtle frown, she whispered, "Clark. Please be alright."
—T —