The car slowed to a still in front of a modest household and Peter turned off the ignition. His lips pursed, he glanced at his girlfriend who was sitting beside him, and sighed.
"Ready?"
She nodded, and together, they got out of the car and made their way across the small lawn. The residence was dark and still, although Liz's car was parked outside.
Gwen gently knocked on the door and they waited patiently. A moment later, the porch light flickered on and Liz's mother Doris opened the door. Peter and Gwen's faces set in matching grimaces as they took in the puffy and red-rimmed eyes of the woman. She had undoubtedly been crying.
"Peter… Gwen," her voice was strained. "Please, come in."
They entered the living room to find Liz sitting on the couch, her knees hugged to her chest. She looked up at them with a hollow, haunted expression that broke their heart. Internally, they felt a pang of guilt. They had been the ones to take down the Vulture and put Liz's father behind bars.
"Liz, I'm so sorry," Gwen said, her face set in a frown as she moved to wrap her friend in a tight embrace.
As she held Liz, she couldn't help but replay the fight she and Peter had against the Vulture the previous evening. The way his powerful Gatling guns had been raining hell all over the place. It would have been much more challenging if they didn't have their new suits to point out their foe's weaknesses and help them coordinate their attacks much better.
Peter placed a comforting hand on Doris' shoulder as the woman sank into an armchair, burying her face in her hands with a muffled sob. Like his girlfriend, he too felt sorry that they were responsible for this devastated family's anguish. Sure, Adrian's crimes as the Vulture could not be excused… but they could see how he had been pushed beyond the limits due to a corrupt system and backstabbing allies. No matter how twisted his methods had become, he had only wanted to claim what was rightfully his.
Alas, the lust for power had consumed him and his greed worsened. All of this could have been easily avoided if only the man did not give in to his vices.
"I can't believe this is happening," Liz whispered, her voice trembling with anguish. "My Dad… the Vulture!? How could he do something like that!? And keeping this horrible secret from us!?"
Gwen gently stroked Liv's back in a bid to comfort her, squeezing her arm reassuringly while she fought his own inner turmoil. A churning sense of culpability was filling her, and one glance towards her boyfriend told her he was not faring any better either.
"I don't know, Liz," she said softly. "I wish I had answers for you. But your Dad's choices, as misguided as they were, don't change who you are. You're still one of the kindest, most caring people I know."
Peter walked over and knelt down next to the couch, placing his hand over Liz's. The ghost of their battle from the previous evening played in his mind – the Vulture's barrage of bullets that curiously did not kill anyone but merely took them down, his spiraling dive that would've hurt if his girl hadn't yanked him out of harm's way, the volley of searing energy blasts that forced them to dodge, and how efficiently he had been cutting through their webbing.
Taking him down should have felt like a victory, and it had for a few hours. He and Gwen had celebrated it in the best way they could throughout the night, but now, it all felt hollow after seeing the collateral damage to this innocent family.
"Your Dad made mistakes, big ones, but he was trying to provide for his family and take back what was rightfully his in his own way. It was twisted, I won't deny, and he lost sight of what was right as time passed, but his motivations came from a good place deep down."
Peter hoped his words would provide this family some solace despite how empty they felt.
"How can you defend him!?" Liz cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks. "People were hurt, maybe even killed, because of everything he did. The investigators said he even dealt with weapons! They surely weren't kids' toys."
Both Peter and Gwen felt a knot form in the pits of their stomach. It was indeed true that the Vulture was also involved in an illegal weapons trade and they knew what kind of shady practice it was. It made the words even more hollow.
"I am not defending his actions, Liz," Peter said softly, squeezing her hand. "Just saying there's more to people than their worst decisions. He's still your Dad, and he clearly loves you and your Mom very much."
"Yeah, clearly," Liz choked out and it was impossible to miss the derision in her voice. "If he did, he wouldn't have done something like this." Her eyes narrowed in a glare, and she hissed, "He's a criminal and nothing else."
"Liz…" Doris tried, but Liz was already moving. She pulled away from Gwen and Peter, and crossed the living room, shutting her bedroom door behind her. Doris merely stared helplessly.
"She'll come around," Gwen said supportively. "She's sad and angry right now. It will pass, Doris."
The woman gave her a small smile and nodded. "Thank you for coming here. She's been crying ever since we got to know about it. At least she spoke after seeing you two."
Smiling softly, Peter placed a comforting hand on the older woman's shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping he could provide her some small comfort. However, as he gazed at his girlfriend, he knew both were thinking the same thing.
'Could this have ended any differently?'
XXXXX
A pensive Nick Fury was staring out of the window of his office in The Triskelion at the city skyline. He turned around when the door to his office in The Triskelion slid open and nodded at his guests, joining them in the middle.
"We should get started right away, Nick," Clark said, earning a firm nod from the dark-skinned man who swiped on the suspended screen, sending numerous holograms scattering about around them.
The room was soon encased in blue as the holograms displayed their findings, and they all stared with pursed lips.
"So this is what Stark discovered, hmm?" Fury said slowly, taking everything in.
"Indeed," Diana nodded. "It appears that despite numerous claims and instructions of discontinuing the project, SHIELD has been secretly developing advanced weaponry harnessing the massive powers of the Tesseract."
"Just like during the World War," Fury nodded, his lips pursed. "And you said you suspect who?"
"Not you, if that's what you're asking."
"I'm not," Fury replied firmly. "I know I'm not behind this, even though I can see some reason behind this."
"Care to explain, Nick?"
"Well… given how we humans are surrounded by beings who can eradicate all of us at their whim, I can't blame the urge to develop some sort of deterrent against those forces."
"You do realize those forces include us as well, right?"
"I was never known for brown-nosing, Your Grace," Nick replied curtly, staring at Diana. "I am saying as I see it. Nothing more, nothing less."
Clark and Diana exchanged a glance before the former turned back to him with his lips quirked slightly.
"And it's the same brutal honesty that makes us regard you so highly," he intoned. "Coming back to these weapons… The Tesseract is one of the most powerful and dangerous artifacts we have ever encountered. Schmidt found out the hard way what tampering with a force like that can do to you. And here we have a repeat. The Tesseract being used as an energy source for weaponry."
A muscle twitched in Fury's jaw. Diana regarded the man keenly and continued, "We do have our suspicions, even though it's unproved yet."
"Let's hear it then," Fury raised an expectant eyebrow, steeling his fingers as he leaned back in his seat.
"We believe this black ops project is not some rogue operation. Someone with power and authority is behind this, and there are not many of those around. To authorize this measure and keep it hidden for so long… it would not come as surprise to us if the World Security Council itself was involved."
Nick Fury's only visible eye widened slightly as he kept his breathing even, thinking things through with utter calmness.
"You truly believe that the Council, the very governing body that oversees SHIELD, could be subverting your authority and pursuing their own agenda?"
"We fear it might be a real possibility," Diana replied, nodding. "Which means SHIELD might not be as much under our control as we'd like to believe."
Fury stared at the holographic image of an advanced rifle design that floated about in front of him as he thought about it. He considered the implications of their suspicion being true, and it didn't look good.
If the Council had gone rogue, ordering the development of secret weapons that could be capable of wide-scale destruction without oversight and even when the SHIELD leadership had explicitly forbidden any overture of such nature, it had the potential to destabilize the entire organization – and potentially the world as they knew it.
"We might have a potential crisis of unprecedented proportions at our hands then," Fury remarked grimly. "If what you're saying is true… if the Council is truly involved, we're dealing with a conspiracy at the highest level and even beyond our oversight. It would be a blow at the heart of SHIELD's integrity."
Clark met Fury's gaze firmly, his expression resolute. "Which is why we want you to assume full leadership of the organization now. The commanding role you took over during the Battle of New York was all well and good, but now it's time for you to assume your place as the Director of SHIELD."
"So it's final, hmm? What about you two?"
"As we said, we'll be more involved in the field now," Diana replied. "And to be honest, all this royalty business has gotten tedious over the years. We'd prefer if everyone called us by our names instead."
"I'm afraid old habits won't die too easily," Fury remarked with slight amusement. "Alright. I guess it's time. I'll be launching a covert operation to get to the bottom of this."
"You are the perfect man for this job," Clark said confidently. "You're someone we all trust implicitly, and with your experience and integrity, you are our best bet at exposing this conspiracy and neutralizing any threats festering within SHIELD."
"We'll have to operate completely off the books for this probe. Trust no one else until we uncover the truth and root out any moles or double agents."
"You'll have all our support, and the full resources of SHIELD are at your disposal," Clark replied promisingly, nodding. "No matter the cost, we can't allow the people behind this to get away with it."
"And we'd need to locate these weapons as well," Diana muttered. "We can't allow such devastating weapons to fall into wrong hands."
Fury was silent for a few seconds, seemingly formulating a plan of action in his mind. Finally, he gave a resolute nod.
"First things first, we need to dig deeper into SHIELD's operations - both current and historic. I'll have my most trusted agents start combing through mission reports, resource allocations, personnel files... anything that could hint at this weapons program."
He turned to glance at the floating holograms once again and a muscle twitched in his jaw once again.
"At the same time, we have to try tracing the money trail. Undertakings of this magnitude require serious funding - funds that likely weren't accounted for through official SHIELD channels."
Diana nodded thoughtfully. "The World Security Council controls SHIELD's purse strings. We should look for any anomalies or obfuscated transactions that could point to them bankrolling this operation behind our backs."
"Precisely," Fury agreed. "My analysts will scrub every last financial record. No line item goes unexamined."
Clark frowned. "What about physical evidence? Surely a project dabbling with Tesseract energy would leave energy signatures or residual radiation that we could detect."
"Good thinking," Fury said, making a mental note. "I'll task our scientists and engineering corps to scour SHIELD facilities - sanctioned and black sites alike - for any traces of Tesseract experimentation. If they've been building these weapons, there will be a trail."
"Unless it had been happening right there in Mojave," Clark intoned. "Then we might not be able to uncover anything."
"Highly unlikely, but we can't discount the possibility," Diana nodded.
Fury stood up and started pacing, his mind racing with possibilities.
"We'll also need to identify potential suppliers, manufacturers, anyone across the public and private sectors who may have contributed materials, technology, or expertise, wittingly or not."
"We can't ignore the possibility of infiltration either," Diana reminded him. "It's very much possible that whoever it is has installed moles within SHIELD's ranks to oversee this from the inside."
Their jaws clenched. The mere thought of subversive agents embedded within their organization made their blood boil.
"You're right. We have to approach this operation assuming there are hostiles lurking at every level. That means working with only an absolute minimum of personnel I can personally vouch for," Fury said gravely.
He came to a stop, leveling his intense gaze at them both. "Make no mistake – this is a fight for the soul of SHIELD. We must be prepared to expose any and all parties involved, no matter how high up the treason goes. If the Council itself is truly compromised, we take them down by any means necessary."
"That goes without saying," Clark said firmly. "As I said before, you'll have our full support throughout this."
He and Diana exchanged a grim look, understanding the gravity of the situation. They were indeed ready to face any threat to purge SHIELD of corruption and ensure the culprit was caught. Those weapons of mass destruction could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands, again.
XXXXX
General Zod stood at the enormous viewscreen, his gaze fixed on the vibrant blue sphere hanging in the inky vastness of space –Earth. His mind was once again flooded by the memories of Krypton, the once-mighty civilization that was now reduced to a haunting whisper in the cosmos.
He could still hear the echoes of that fateful day, the screams of his people as reality itself was torn asunder. Zod had fought valiantly to prevent the inevitable, to preserve the proud Kryptonian race from the arrogance of its leaders. However, his pleas fell on deaf ears as he was branded as a radical dissenter by those too blind to see the truth.
It felt as if everything had happened yesterday.
General Dru-Zod strode into the council chamber, his military uniform crisp and decorated with medals signifying his many years of service to Krypton. His jaw was set in a hard line as he approached the raised dais where the members of the ruling council sat. He could see the apprehension in their gazes and it made him sneer.
"My friends," Zod stated, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. "I believe we find ourselves at an impasse. For far too long, this council has allowed our great civilization to stagnate under ineffective leadership and outdated principles."
A few council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging concerned glances among themselves. One of them, an elderly woman named Vri-Dor who had been on the council for decades, spoke up, "General, you are treading on dangerous ground here. We have respect for your service and contributions to our defense forces, but you must respect the established system of governance laid down by our ancestors."
Zod slammed his fist on the dais, making Vri-Dor and the others jump. "Respect? You speak of respect while our planet slowly decays from lack of vision and willpower. Krypton deserves better than ineffectual bureaucrats obsessed with maintaining their petty powers at the cost of our future."
Murmurs and gasps rose from the council members as Zod turned his back on them contemptuously, raising his voice to address the military commanders who had surreptitiously fallen in behind him during the confrontation.
"For centuries, we have trusted our lives and freedom to the guidance of this decrepit regime. But no more! Too long have we allowed these feckless cowards to determine the fate of our world through their inaction and hollow rhetoric. From this day forth, a new order begins for the Kryptonians — one of strength, progress, and uncompromising action for the greater good of our kind."
Zod turned back to face the council, his eyes burning with passion. "The future of Krypton must be secured at all costs, and today that cost will be your revered positions of privilege. So I ask one final time — who among you will join me in ushering in a new age for our kind?"
As Zod's elite commanders snapped to attention behind him, the sound of their staffs banging in salute echoed like thunder through the chamber. The council members shrank in their seats, realizing the ground had shifted permanently beneath their feet.
Vri-Dor struggled to remain composed. "General Zod, you are under arrest for insurrection against the lawful government. Stand down and order your men to withdraw immediately."
A cruel smile played across Zod's lips as he gazed at her. "I fear those words no longer carry much weight."
With a subtle gesture with his hand, his commanders fanned out and quickly subdued the few ceremonial guards stationed in the chamber.
As chaos erupted and Zod's commanders advanced ahead, the doors of the chamber burst open and Jor-El came striding in. He paused in his stride, his eyes wide, as he gazed at the carnage.
"Zod! What is the meaning of this?"
General Zod turned and smirked at his old friend-turned-adversary. "Ah, Jor-El. I was wondering when you would finally show your face here once again. Tell me, how does it feel to defy the laws and traditions you have sworn to uphold?"
Jor-El stopped short, a foreboding feeling washing over him as he gazed at Zod who chuckled deeply. "What? Did you truly think your ruse would go unnoticed? That I would not find out about your little… indiscretion? Your natural-born son, the first in centuries on Krypton!"
The members of the council gasped, their eyes accusatory as they gazed at a silent Jor-El whose shoulders slumped when he spotted the condemnation in their eyes.
"And to compound your arrogance," Zod continued with a sneer. "You stole the supreme codex! The key to rewriting the genetics of our entire race! Our destiny! To use as you see fit!? There is no way I would ever let that sort of power fall into the unworthy hands of a freak like you!"
With a roar of anger, Jor-El leveled the plasma rifle at Zod. Blue energy bolts seared through the air, blasting council members and rebels alike as the two former friends exchanged fire. Zod grabbed a ceremonial guard's staff to deflect the plasma blasts, using his heat vision to melt and deform the head of the rifle.
The heavy metal staff clashed against the searing barrel of the plasma rifle in a shower of superheated sparks. Though a brilliant scientist, Jor-El was outmatched against Zod's intensive military training and vicious close-combat skills augmented by his enhanced Kryptonian abilities.
Zod battered Jor-El's defenses, each punishing strike from the staff powered by his superior strength and speed. Flashes of X-ray vision allowed Zod to anticipate and counter Jor-El's movements before he could react.
Desperate, Jor-El unleashed a blast of arctic breath, freezing the front of Zod's armor and causing ice crystals to form on his exposed face. Zod recoiled, momentarily stunned, as Jor-El aimed a crippling kick augmented by his own Kryptonian strength.
The blow landed squarely on Zod's armored chest, releasing a shockwave that launched the general backward, shattering the ice encasing him. Zod crashed through a marble pillar, rubble raining down as he righted himself with a feral snarl.
However, it was Zod's turn to bring his full abilities to bear. His heat vision flashed like ruby lasers, slicing through the chamber's decor as Jor-El desperately weaved and rolled to avoid the deadly beams.
Seizing a fallen Duranium sword, Jor-El deflected one of the heat blasts, redirecting it to melt through the plasma rifle's chamber, transforming it into a glowing hot lump of scrap metal that was now useless as a weapon.
The two Kryptonians clashed again in a blinding brawl, their fists and feet sheathed in protective force fields that amplified the seismic impacts between them. Shockwaves ripped through the chamber with every landed blow, the very foundations of the structure groaning under the cataclysmic stress.
Zod landed a savage uppercut to Jor-El's jaw, his knuckles crackling with kinetic discharge as they found their mark. As Jor-El soared backward, Zod pounced like a malevolent predator, smashing through another pillar to drive the battered scientist down into the shattered pieces of the council's podium.
Zod rained blows down onto the reeling Jor-El with meteor-like force, each devastating impact cratering the inorganic surface beneath them. Just as Jor-El's defensive aura began to flicker and fail, he managed to lock his fingers around a jagged Duranium shard from the podium.
With the last of his strength, Jor-El drove the makeshift Duranium blade up towards Zod's exposed face. The general barely managed to turn his head in time, the wicked shard slicing a burning path from Zod's cheek down across his armored chest plate, sparks flying from the friction.
Zod roared in agony and rage, raising his fists over Jor-El for a killing blow charged with the last of his electromagnetic force field's power. Just as he struck, a resonance disruptor beam fired from the loyalist troops' new vantage lanced through the air, striking Zod in his exposed side.
The general's protective aura shattered instantly from the directed energy discharge, his bellowed cry of pain choked off as he crumpled to the ground in defeat, smoke rising from his body. Jor-El could only watch, bloodied and dying, as Zod's rebel forces were likewise subdued by the loyalists' superior technology and training.
Slowly pushing himself to his feet, Zod glared at the dying Jor-El one last time as loyalist troops surrounded him and his rebel forces. As Faora and the others were subdued, Zod stood proudly, allowing himself to be restrained without resistance.
At his sentencing, Zod grinned coldly as the ruling condemned him and his people to entombment in the Phantom Zone. As the interdimensional portal activated to whisk them away, he turned to Lara, Jor-El's wife, one last time.
"Mark my words, this is not the end! I will eventually be free and when I am, I will make your abomination of a son suffer for your crimes against Krypton!"
In the end, his desperate attempts to save his world were met with harsh judgment. He and his loyalists were condemned to an eternal existence trapped in the Phantom Zone, a nightmarish dimension beyond space and time. An existence of endless torture, with their minds and bodies slowly unraveling in that hellish realm.
Zod's fists clenched as the memories washed over him, the bitter taste of betrayal still sharp after all these years. He had sworn vengeance and he had a duty to his homeland to uphold. Krypton was lost, but its future was not. And now, finally freed from that cosmic prison, he would have his reckoning.
"General Zod."
The deep, reverberating voice of his lieutenant, Faora, snapped him from his reverie. He turned to face his staunchest supporter and one of the fiercest Kryptonian warriors ever, her expression as steely as always.
"We are prepared to begin the broadcast, sir," she stated respectfully.
Zod gave a curt nod, his jaw set with grim determination. "Very well. It is time we introduced ourselves to the beings of this insignificant world."
XXXXX
The mood was filled with tension in the secure briefing room within the reinforced confines of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Triskelion headquarters. The former co-director and founder, Diana Kent, surveyed the assembly of some of the most capable warriors they had at their disposal and top government operatives with a piercing stare.
It had been quite a few days since the attack on New York by Loki and Sylvie, and the city was still recovering. Buildings were still destroyed and the economy had taken a massive hit. A sense of vulnerability had seeped in and the public still remained on edge. It was not without good reason either, as an unknown spacecraft had assumed its place in the orbit. It was impossible to keep its existence a secret, especially in the modern world where there was no lack of technology. Super zoom camera lenses were a growing trend, and the Internet was booming as it had been for a while now. As such, even the government did not see the need to hide anything, knowing the futility.
Diana tapped a control button and a high-resolution imagery of the bizarrely organic-looking grey spacecraft filled the large viewscreen behind her. Slowly rotating, the strange angular symbols and patterns adorning the alien hull seemed to almost shimmer with some obscure power and purpose.
"It's been a while since that thing appeared in the orbit," she began, her commanding presence filling the room. "And despite our continued multi-spectrum attempts at communication using every protocol and frequency we have at our disposal, they have responded to our probes with complete and utter silence."
Panels of scrolling data, intelligence reports, and detection telemetry framed the viewscreen, displaying the intellectual might S.H.I.E.L.D. had organized in an effort to unravel the secrets of the alien ship's origins and technology.
Diana's husband Clark Kent studied the information intently from his spot at the head of the table on the opposite end, his mind calculating endless possibilities and threat scenarios. As the supremely powerful Kryptonian publicly known as Superman, he alone possessed the raw capability to directly engage the alien vessel if needed, apart from his dear wife, that is.
It had been made abundantly clear to everyone though – the current scenario demanded patience and an emphasis on pure defensive alert and readiness. Any overt provocation or show of force could be met with swift and terrible retaliation by what looked to be a technologically advanced alien species. It had not been long since they had been attacked and had to engage all their might to thwart it. It was not in their best interests to court another assault so soon.
Steve Rogers, a veteran of the Second World War and a super-soldier, leaned forward in his chair and asked, "With all due respect, how much longer can we realistically afford to wait and do nothing? If this deployment is the vanguard of a large hostile force—"
"I am aware of the risks we face, Captain," Diana cut him off, her tone measured. "This is precisely why we have allowed the continuation of Defcon 2 status across all military forces on Earth and suspended all active space deployments until we can ascertain this ship's purpose."
Beside her husband, Margaret "Peggy" Rogers, another veteran of the Second World War and a super-soldier in her own right, frowned. Her keen strategic mind was analyzing every angle and variable of the developing situation from both a logistical and game theory perspective. "I concur with maintaining the cautious defensive approach for now," she said carefully. "But we'll likely reach an unacceptable tipping point of existential risk if the aliens maintain this unresponsive silence. Sooner or later, more active measures may be required to probe and discern their true intentions."
There were glances shared around as everyone pondered on the same thing. It was too soon for another attack. They wanted to avoid any direct conflict that could quickly escalate into a nightmare scenario of a full-scale interstellar war between Earth and this mysterious alien species of unknown capabilities.
"For now, our only prudent option is to maintain a defensive posture of 100% uncompromising combat readiness while we exhaust every remaining potential diplomatic approach and communication technique," Nick Fury, the newly appointed Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., said curtly. His only visible eye narrowed to a slice of onyx. "But make no goddamn mistake, people. If that behemoth of a craft makes even a single overtly hostile move or drops so much as a flaming turd in our general direction... we'll respond with the full unrelenting force of every classified asset, enhanced personnel, and code-named son of a bitch we've got!"
Diana arched an eyebrow at her old friend's typical lack of delicacy and tact. However, she couldn't disagree with the harsh reality behind his crude words. If this alien ship did prove hostile, suddenly dismissing Earth as inconsequential... it was possible that the combined might of every enhanced superhero, military force, and weapon in their arsenal may very well not be enough to stem the tide.
Suddenly, without warning, every display screen and monitor flickered with static-laced interference. A low, rumbling vibration seemed to reverberate through the very walls and foundations of the Triskelion itself.
"What in blazes..." Fury muttered, his hand instinctively going for the sidearm holstered at his hip.
Steve was already on his feet, his chiseled frame tense as he scanned for threats, Vibranium shield at the ready. "Everyone stay ste"
He was cut off when the lights went off, and it further raised their guard. The Triskelion was never supposed to lose power.
They were all certain of one thing though. Whoever was behind this strange phenomenon knew what they were doing, and it was not hard to guess who might be behind it.
The static images across every screen coalesced into a single unified visual – the towering, metallic visage of an imposing humanoid figure filling the displays in a cold, harsh depiction.
The face was not discernable, obscured by constant static and whirring of pixels on every screen and a deathly hush enveloped the room as everyone stared at the screen, transfixed.
A deep, resonating voice like the ringing of immense brass bells shattered the silence, pouring forth from the speakers in a tone that seemed to chill the very air itself.
"People of the indigenous species inhabiting the planetary body known as Earth," the voice intoned with clinical detachment. "I am General Zod, former Supreme Commander of the Kryptonian Imperial Military Guild."
Inside the briefing room of The Triskelion, Clark's eyes widened.
XXXXX
Tony Stark stood in sheer disbelief. His eyes were working, and so were his ears. Yet, he could not believe what he was seeing was truly happening.
Pepper clutched hard onto his arm, Rhodey and Happy standing right behind them as they stared at the glowing orange hologram that was JARVIS, except… it wasn't JARVIS who was addressing them. The hologram was flickering, and it had lost its vibrant hue, now resembling a dull blob instead. Affixed to the wall, the television's display was covered with static as it tried to present a face, only failing. The same applied to the laptop open at the table, and, adding to their shock, their phones as well.
"I come from a world far from yours, and I have journeyed across an ocean of stars to finally reach you. For some time now it would appear, your pathetically inferior world has been granted the dubious fortune of sheltering one of my own citizens," Zod continued after a dramatic pause.
Tony glared at the spectacle. Everything in his tower that had a screen had been taken over. He had created it all, and its control had been wrenched away from him. He felt powerless, he felt agitated, he felt insulted, and he felt enraged at the audacity of whoever it was to spit on his life's work like this.
There was no way he would ever forgive this insult against his very being.
XXXXX
Alfred was the perfect picture of calmness as he placed the plate of freshly cut fruits on the table, even though the lights were out. At the dining table, Bruce sat with Selina and Natasha on either side of him, all staring resolutely at the massive TV screen that had a static trying to resemble a face as it whirred and spoke in a detached tone.
"I ask you to return this individual to my custody. For some reason, you people seem to revere him, treating him as a god. To you, he might seem as one, but for me, he is but a rogue and traitorous refugee with uncompromising delusions of conscience... who is the symbol of an ultimate act of treachery. He might look like you, but he is NOT one of you."
"He's talking about Clark Kent," Bruce said gravely.
Only a little while ago, they had clashed against an alien army led by a pair of superpowered beings who called themselves demigods, and it had taken a massive toll on the city of New York to the point where the city was still in its initial stages of recovery.
Bruce glanced at Alfred for a moment who looked entirely composed and a small smile appeared on his face. Unbeknownst to him, Alfred's lips curved upwards slightly as the whirring voice continued.
XXXXX
Peter and Gwen were stuck in traffic, just like all the cars, even though the lights had turned green before they switched off. They were on their way back from Queens after their affair had concluded. It had been an emotional end to their journey and they were keen to put it behind them as soon as they could.
All around them, screens whirred with static as they all heard the same message, inside the cars and outside on the massive advertising screens that were the highlight of Times Square.
They stared, wide-eyed, at the screen on the dashboard of the car, as the voice continued.
"To those of you who may know of his current location: the fate of your planet rests in your hands."
"What the hell is going on?" Gwen whispered, her eyes wide. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing upright, signaling that danger was imminent.
Peter was faring no better. His body was responding in much the same manner as he too gazed at the screen in surprise. His phone displayed the same and as he tapped the screen to access something, he found, to his shock, that he couldn't.
"It's a full-on hack!"
XXXXX
"To Kal-El, I say this… surrender within 24 hours… or watch this world face the consequences."
Just as abruptly as it started, Zod's static visage and ultimatum winked out - the screens and lights returning to normal and logistical feeds as if nothing had happened.
A long, tension-filled silence enveloped the briefing room at The Triskelion as the last echoes of Zod's proclamation faded and died. It was Diana who found her voice first, speaking in a low, controlled tone that nonetheless betrayed the inner fury and uncertainty she now felt.
"Well... what the actual hell was that?"
All eyes turned slowly toward Clark's stone-faced profile, awaiting his response. The first biological offspring of Krypton. The 'symbol of treachery' Zod described. And the only apparent key to humanity's salvation... or destruction.
Steve instinctively took up a defensive position guarding the front of the room as Fury took point coordinating security protocols. Outside the chamber windows, alarm lights began flashing as the entire Triskelion defense array initiated full lockdown — scrambling fighter jets, artillery positionings, and recalling S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents.
As her friends sprang into action to safeguard Earth against this alien aggression, Diana simply tightened her grip on Clark's arm with one hand while gently resting the other on the hilt of her sword.
Meanwhile, the man merely stared at the table with unseeing eyes, recalling the conversation he'd had with the shade of his father when he had found the ship up north.
He'd told him that he was the last surviving Kryptonian and nothing about Zod in any form other than what had happened to him.
"Well, looks like shit's about to hit the fan," Fury said gruffly, as they all stared at Clark in silence.
To be continued…
Thanks for reading, everyone, and if you'd like to read more chapters and fics or have a say in what goes, check out the link on my profile. Chapters 22 to 30 are already available.
There are also character artworks for the ladies if you're interested in seeing what they might look like.
I'll be back soon with the next update for this fic. Meanwhile, check out my other fics if you haven't yet. Cheers!