Chapter 29

Parahumans Forum

Section: Rumors

Thread: End of the World in Gotham? Or Just Another Tuesday?

Author: Adekvat228 (User)

Thread Status: Hot | New Posts: 22

Adekvat228: Well, that's it. Done. Just finished fixing my place… and then—BOOM! Every window shattered! The whole damn block! What the hell was that?! Aliens? Super-terrorists? Sitting here in glass shards, ears still ringing. Anyone see anything?

SlaveGreen: God… I saw it! Was just chilling, doing my thing… and then—BAM! Giant robots stomping under my building! With lasers! Like forty of them. And then… MY GODDESS UNLEASHED HER POWERS! Vines bursting through the asphalt! Wrapped those metal freaks up! And then… THAT sound. The air EXPLODED. Windows—gone! Good thing I wear glasses. Brrr… 😰

GreenMistress ✅: 

Official Statement from Floravita Industries: 

Today, our facilities and personnel were subjected to an unprecedented and vile attack. 

Attack organized by: 

- Joker (deceased)

- Scarecrow (deceased)

- Two-Face (deceased)

- Riddler (deceased)

- Bane (at large)

- Penguin (deceased)

Lex Luthor supplied 40 LexCorp assault exosuits. 

Outcome: 

- Supervillains (Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Riddler, Penguin) eliminated.

- 37 mercenaries in custody.

- Exosuits self-destructed.

- Bane remains at large.

Actions: 

- Sanctions: A complete embargo is imposed on all goods, services, and cooperation with LexCorp and any companies directly or indirectly tied to Lex Luthor. Our products, technologies, and resources will never again reach their markets.

- Compensation: All citizens suffering material damage (broken windows, property damage) or physical harm from today's events in [listed districts] can contact Floravita Industries' main office or hotline [link]. Full compensation for damages and free medical care at our clinics are guaranteed.

- Video Evidence: Attached are edited surveillance recordings confirming the attack and use of LexCorp tech ([Link to Video 1: Base Assault], [Link to Video 2: LexCorp Robots in Action]). Key tactical details and employee faces are obscured for security.

Floravita Industries will protect Gotham. The attackers will pay in full.

Adekvat228: @GreenMistress: !?!?!?!?! JOKER'S DEAD?!?! SERIOUSLY?! HALLELUJAH! FINALLY! That's the news! You know what? I forgive the broken windows. I'll claim compensation, sure, but… JOKER'S DEAD! @MysterWho, you out there? Still alive? What do you think?

SlaveGreen: @Adekvat228: Judging by the silence… looks like we won't see him again. Farewell, Riddler… or not? I watched the videos… Damn. Especially that power plant scene… when those… people in villain costumes… started fighting… like animals. Brrr, gave me chills. Pure horror. 😨

GotamMembers1111: Good riddance to those bastards! They all deserved to be put against the wall ages ago! Especially the Joker!

LexCorp ✅: Floravita Industries @GreenMistress. Your claims are gravely serious. Beyond emotional accusations and edited videos, do you have any evidence of LexCorp's involvement? Specific serial numbers of the tech? Communication logs? Any irrefutable facts? Or is this just an attempt to smear a competitor amid tragedy?

GreenMistress ✅: @LexCorp: Clap-clap-clap. In your bureaucratic drivel, you miss the point. I don't need "evidence." I know. I know it was you. I know it was your hand. I know it was your steel. And now… you know your life is over. Step out of your bunker for a smoke—you're dead. Stroll in the park—you're dead. Count your final minutes.

LexCorp ✅: We'll see.

Adekvat228: What, now it's war?!

SlaveGreen: Mommy, that's intense…

MysterWho: …

SlaveGreen: @MysterWho: ALIVE?! AHH! ZOMBIES! THE RIDDLER'S BACK?! 😱

MysterWho: @SlaveGreen: Calm down. I never said I was the Riddler. That's your imagination. 😉

Adekvat228: @MysterWho: Okay, fine, not a zombie. 😅 But what do you think? Robots, dead villains, threats…

MysterWho: I think… the obvious is obvious. Advanced combat robots like that? Kryptonite use (clear in the base video)? Who else but Luthor has the resources, malice, and gall for this? His demand for "evidence" only confirms he's already cleaned up any direct trails. Technical proof? Gone. All that's left is Floravita's word… and their vow of vengeance.

But what's really important… is the aftermath. The mafia's crushed. Corrupt officials blocking Floravita are either fled or arrested. And now… Gotham's main "freak-show" stars are dead. Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Riddler… their era's over. Bane's on the run, but he's a loner.

Floravita Industries is now Gotham's sole real power.

No crime, no corruption, no lunatics can stop them. Just them, their plants, their tech… and their methods. The question isn't whether they won. It's… what will Gotham become under their evergreen grip? And at what cost will this… stability come for us all?

SlaveGreen: …Wow. #GREENGOTHAM! Long live the New Green! 🌿🌿🌿

---

The room buzzed with silence, broken only by the sharp clack of heels. Kara Zor-El, Power Girl, paced like an enraged tigress in a cage. Each step echoed in the tense air. Alex knelt before her—not pleading, but like a scolded schoolboy, eyes downcast.

"You wormed your way into my trust," her voice was low, dangerous, like hissing molten metal. "Played the friend. Helped. All for what? To steal my DNA? To become… this?" She stopped abruptly, her icy gaze boring into him. "You betrayed our friendship, Alex. Betrayed me."

Alex swallowed, but his voice held steady, though quieter than usual.

"I collected your DNA the first day, Kara. We weren't friends yet, so technically, I didn't betray you." He risked a glance at her.

His words hung in the air. Kara's fury flared brighter than the sun. She stepped forward, and Alex instinctively dropped his eyes to the floor, shoulders tensing. He felt her anger physically, like atmospheric pressure before a storm.

Kara's gaze snapped to Pamela and Harley, standing off to the side.

"You both knew?"

Pamela and Harley exchanged a quick, wordless glance. Then, with near-synchronized motion, they stepped forward and… knelt beside Alex. Harley on his left, Pamela on his right, like bizarre guardian angels to a sinner.

"Wellll, we knew…" Harley drawled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling with exaggerated innocence. She clasped her hands under her chin, batting puppy-dog eyes. "Forgive us, pretty please, Kara-sweetie-wonder-girl? You can do anything to us! Absolutely anything!" She raised an eyebrow meaningfully, then whispered loud enough for all to hear: "…Stop-word's 'cottage cheese,' okay?"

Kara rolled her eyes so hard it seemed she saw the back of her head. "Gods, Harley…" She dragged a hand down her face, dispelling a wave of irritation mixed with the absurdity of the moment. Her gaze sharpened, returning to Alex. "Fine. How strong are you?" She waved at him, gesturing to his new abilities.

Alex sighed, relaxing slightly but staying on his knees.

"No flying. No eye lasers. Just…" he paused, "…one second of Superman mode every twelve hours. One second of physical strength and accelerated perception."

Pamela gently but firmly squeezed his hand, joining in.

"That's all, Kara. The serum was unique, one-of-a-kind. Creating even one dose took… obscene effort and resources. So no worries about sudden siblings in misery. No clones."

Kara stared at them—three figures kneeling before her: the guilty strategist, the genius biologist, and the mad clown, who, despite everything, were her… friends? Allies? Hard to define. Her face softened, rage giving way to weary indulgence and deep, heavy frustration. She exhaled deeply, the breath easing some of the room's tension.

"Fine," she said quietly but firmly. "I forgive you."

Alex started to rise, exhaling in relief. "Thanks, Kara, I—"

"But!" Her voice turned to steel. She raised a finger. "One punch. You take one full-strength punch from me. Then we're even."

Alex froze mid-rise, face paling. She wasn't joking.

"Kara… I'll die. I might survive it in that second. But when it ends, the residual kinetics, the inertia—it'll smear me across a wall or shatter me against the wind like a fragile toy."

Kara shrugged, a faint, almost sinister smirk on her lips.

"You'll figure something out." She crossed her arms, expectant. "And, Alex, you'd have to test that 'mode' eventually. Call this… an accelerated trial."

Harley, still kneeling, gasped loudly.

"Ooooh, so no apology sexy times?!" She looked at everyone with exaggerated disappointment. "And here I was fantasizing! Ugh…"

Pamela closed her eyes, shaking her head, stifling either a laugh or a groan—hard to tell. Alex stared at Kara with new, chilling dread. He had to survive a punch from a woman who could move mountains. And figure out how not to become a bloody smear afterward. The task seemed impossible, but there was no alternative.

---

The Desert

Sand. An endless, sun-scorched sea of dunes under a blinding blue dome of sky. I stood in the blinding whiteness, feeling hot grains bite into my boot soles. Across from me, like the living wrath of the sun, stood Kara Zor-El. Her white suit gleamed brighter than snow against the orange sand. She raised her right hand slowly, with terrifying focus. Muscles tensed under the fabric, gaining steely definition. Her fist clenched. Her entire being radiated inhuman power, concentrated into the knuckles aimed at my gut. The air around her shimmered with energy.

The plan was simple, almost primal in its desperation: take the hit, activate my "second" at the moment of impact. Within those 223 subjective seconds, I'd wait for her—moving near-normal in my perception—to catch up and grab me, absorbing the residual inertia and shielding me from the lethal wind after exiting superspeed. Sure, I'd have to test this mode's limits eventually. Just didn't expect the examiner to be a pissed-off Kryptonian. Simple, right? Like jumping into an abyss hoping someone catches you. Foolish.

"Wait! Wait-wait-wait!" My voice rang unnaturally loud in the desert's ringing silence.

Kara froze, her brow twitching upward. Her glare was pure, icy irritation.

"Again?!" she hissed. "That's the fourth time, Alex! Fourth! You planning to stall until sunset?"

I forced a sarcastic grin, hiding the tremble in my knees.

"Sorry, princess. In my life full of calculations, I've never done anything this insanely dangerous just to… apologize. Let a guy be nervous before suicide."

She stared at me. Long, probing. Then… her lips curled into a dangerous, challenging smirk. Not kind. Not at all.

"What, trying to make me feel sorry for you?" she asked, her voice steely. "Won't work. No more stopping. So… get ready."

A mental click of disappointment sounded in my head. Didn't work. Fine. Deep breath. Focus. All attention on her fist. The point of impact. The energy about to unleash. I gathered my will, tensing inwardly, bracing to be a target.

Kara tensed again. For real this time. Her arm and shoulder muscles bulged like cables under impossible strain. The air around her fist sparked—not metaphorically, but literally. White, crackling static snaked across her suit, tearing air molecules with a snap. Space itself seemed to compress before the strike. This wasn't just physical strength. It was a bottled lightning bolt, ready to discharge.

She lunged.

The world exploded in white light and a deafening clap of shattered sound barriers. But for me, in the instant I activated my "second," it became… a freeze-frame.

I was flying. No—hurled backward at monstrous speed, even in slowed perception. The sand beneath blurred into an orange streak. The sky became a blue wall. And Kara… Kara was here. Her figure, cloaked in a shimmering white biofield torn by the punch, moved through frozen time with relative speed. She was an anchor in this mad flow, the eye of an energy storm. Her eyes, blazing with cold resolve, locked onto me. She pushed off a dune—slowly, as if through molasses, but with immense power—and shot after me.

Subjective seconds stretched into eternity. 50… 100… 150… The pain in my gut was a fiery point, a molten orb ripping me apart from within. Even slowed, it was unbearable. I felt ribs cracking, organs compressing under the monstrous kinetic energy not yet fully unleashed in my perception. 180… 190… 195…

198… 199… 200!

Her hands, glowing like molten metal, caught me—one under my back, the other under my knees. Not stopping my flight but merging with it, dampening the insane speed with her own motion. It was like catching a cannonball barehanded. I saw her biofield flare red from overload, her arm muscles bulging to their limit. She was braking. With inhuman effort, with the crunch of reality crumpling around us. The air burned, melting from friction.

Stop.

She froze, holding me in her arms. Only now, in that full stop, did the true wave of pain crash over me. KHA!—a rasp tore from my parched throat. It felt like my insides shifted, broke, and were now slowly settling back, protesting with searing agony. Without her hands, without that catch within my "second," I'd have… vaporized. Splattered across miles of desert.

Kara gently but swiftly rolled me onto the sand, shielding me with her body from the strike's direction. She crouched over me, her cape fluttering like a banner.

The acceleration ended.

BOOOOM!

The sound hit late—a roar like a mountain falling. Far ahead, where the punch's force carried, the sandy sea erupted. A massive dune split in two, cleaved by an invisible blade of monstrous power. A sand wall surged skyward, briefly blotting out the sun, then slowly settled like an apocalyptic curtain.

I lay gasping, swallowing scorching sandy air. Every cell burned and ached. But… I was breathing. Saw the blue sky. Felt hot sand under my back.

"Looks like…" I croaked, "…you didn't kill me."

Kara stood, brushing sand from her suit. She glanced at her handiwork—the cleaved dune—then down at me. Her eyes held exhaustion but… satisfaction? Some strange mix.

"Looks like it," she agreed dryly. "You survived."

She sat beside me on the sand, legs tucked under. The sun blazed mercilessly, but for her, it was strength.

"Experimentally proven," she said, staring at the horizon, "the desert sun's the best healer for folks like us. So regenerate."

I tried to laugh at her dark humor, but pain in my neck turned it into a groan. The sun's warmth seeped in, dulling the pain's edge, making broken bones itch with healing. Slow, agonizing, but tangible.

"You'll learn," her voice cut through the ringing in my ears, "not to steal DNA."

I turned my head, meeting her gaze with effort.

"Thank God…" each word was a struggle, "…I don't… need it… anymore…"

Darkness hit like a warm, heavy wave. Overload, pain, adrenaline crash—my body shut down. The last thing I heard before slipping into oblivion was her sigh—not angry, but weary and indulgent. And the feel of hot sand against my cheek.