Beyond the Limit (DC)

Joseph, in his Nova costume, sat on a bench in a quiet Chicago park, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The night air was cool, and for once, there were no sirens, no gunfire, no urgent calls for help. Just silence.

It should have been peaceful.

But the weight in his chest didn't lift. His mind wandered back to the nightmares—the arena, the bodies, the immigrants who had died because of him. No matter how much good he did, those faces wouldn't leave him.

He barely noticed the elderly man approaching until he heard the voice.

"You alright there, son?"

Joseph blinked and turned his head. The man was old, his white hair thinning, but his eyes were sharp and kind. He had the look of someone who had seen too much of life but still held onto something—faith, maybe.

Most people avoided lesser-known supers like him. Civilians never knew which costumed figure was an actual hero and which one was just another lunatic in a mask. But this man wasn't afraid.

"I'm fine," Joseph said automatically.

The man gave a small chuckle. "No offense, but you don't look fine." He lowered himself onto the bench with a groan. "Mind if I sit?"

Joseph shrugged. "Free country."

For a moment, they sat in silence. Then the man spoke again.

"You look like someone carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders."

Joseph scoffed. "Yeah? And what do I look like I did to deserve that?"

The man's expression didn't change. "Sometimes, it's not about what you did to deserve it. It's about what you've been through."

Joseph hesitated. His first instinct was to shut the conversation down, to brush it off. But… something about the man's presence made that difficult.

Joseph had friends, but most of them couldn't understand. And the ones who did, like Selina and Kori? He didn't want to burden them even more with his problems.

He didn't want to mention his problems to Captain Atom either. He wasn't too close with his mentor yet, and he didn't want the League thinking he was too unstable to take part in joining the operation against the gangs.

But this man wasn't a friend or a colleague. He was just… someone willing to listen.

"You ever have nightmares?" Joseph asked, his voice quieter than before.

The man nodded. "Plenty."

"How do you make them stop?"

He sighed. "I don't. They never really stop." He looked at Joseph then, his gaze steady. "But I've learned that you can't let them define you. You wake up, you take another step forward, and you remind yourself that the past is just that—the past."

Joseph stared ahead at the empty park path. "What if the past doesn't stay buried? What if every time I close my eyes, I see them? The people I've killed. The ones I couldn't save."

The man was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "I used to be a preacher, a long time ago. I spent years trying to help people find peace. And the thing about guilt, son, is that it's like a wound. If you don't treat it, if you don't let it heal, it festers. It hurts."

Joseph clenched his fists. "And what if I don't deserve to heal?"

The man gave him a sad smile. "I've met many men who thought that. Some of them carried their guilt until it destroyed them. Others… they learned that redemption isn't something you earn—it's something you choose to accept."

Joseph swallowed hard. He wanted to believe that. He really did.

"Who are you?" he finally asked.

"Norman McCay," the man said. "Just an old man who's seen too much."

Joseph nodded slowly. "Nova." 

"I know who you are, son." McCay's voice was gentle. "And I think, deep down, you already know the answer to your own question."

Joseph exhaled. He didn't know if he believed that yet. But maybe—just maybe—he could try.

**

Flying above Washington D.C. with Joseph felt natural now, like breathing. She had become fond of these weekends, patrolling the city with him, talking about anything and everything. The night sky stretched endlessly above them, the city lights below twinkling like distant stars.

"Troia says she wants to leave Themyscira after I told her all about the outside world," Kori said, glancing at Joseph. "They call it 'Man's World' for some reason."

Joseph raised an eyebrow. "Troia? Oh. The one you said is Wonder Woman's little sister? If Wonder Woman is allowed, why can't she come?"

"She wishes to, but her mother says she is too young—even though she was born in 1941." Kori crossed her arms. "I guess her mother loves her too much."

Joseph gave her a look. "That's… a long time ago."

"Themyscira has been blessed by their gods so that Amazons do not age while they are on it," Kori explained.

"So they're immortal as long as they stay on the island?"

"They can still die," she clarified. "Sometimes, they face threats like Ares or Circe. The Greek Pantheon is so interesting. Back in Tamaran, we only had one god, X'Hal, and she didn't appear much."

She paused, thinking about her home planet. Tamaran had been a place of beauty once. Now, when she thought of it, she saw only betrayal. Her sister, Komand'r, had done more than just sell her into slavery—she had ensured Kori's suffering. The chains, the cruel laughter of their captors, the experiments, the pain.

But that was the past.

Here, on Earth, she was free. She had made new friends, first on Themyscira, then in Washington D.C. There was so much joy here—people smiling as they walked down streets, children laughing, families safe in their homes. It was so different from the endless war and cruelty she had grown up with.

She wanted to protect that peace.

And she was only able to experience it because of him.

Her gaze drifted toward Joseph.

When she first met him, he had been a lone figure in the shadows—sad, guarded, and without hope. And yet, she had seen the kindness in him.

He had confided in her, and in turn, she had confided in him.

Even now, she could feel the warmth of that connection.

Koriand'r had been a princess, a slave, a warrior—but with Joseph, she had simply been Kori.

A sudden wail of sirens pierced the night.

Joseph's head snapped toward the sound, eyes narrowing. Below, flashing red and blue lights weaved through the streets as police cars chased a black van speeding through traffic.

"Looks like a high-speed chase," Joseph muttered.

Kori's expression hardened. "Then let us stop them before someone gets hurt."

Without hesitation, they both dove down toward the city, ready to protect the peace they had both come to cherish.