NOVEL WEB Chapter 1: 1
November 10, 1999
Serena Williams sighed as she cleaned the surface of the bar with a rag. It had been quite the exciting day with the live news coverage of the flight, but the cleanup after the celebration was rather tiring.
She spared a glance at the bag left behind the counter. It looked weird, like a parachute harness of all things. Serena hadn't opened it, not wanting to possibly annoy a cape.
Why was a cape here? Sudbury wasn't exactly a bustling city, so why here? Was it just coincidence? Were they passing through? Did this 'Sunstorm' want to claim the city? If so, why? Even if you conquered Sudbury, you wouldn't get much out of it. And why help a flight when you look like that?
The bar's door swung open. Serena's eyes glanced to it, and her breath hitched.
The... demon walked up with a friendly smile. She was wearing what looked like a blanket wrapped around her torso and a firefighter's set of pants. Right behind her was Legend, with a smile that hovered somewhere between friendly and amused.
"So!" The demon said brightly, her horns bobbing in the air as she gave a nod. "Do you have my things here?"
Gulping, Serena grabbed the bag and put it on the counter. "Y-yeah. We didn't go through it."
"Thanks. It's not much, but it's mine. Well, mostly it's some food and a cooking pot, but I otherwise had nothing."
Legend spoke, his voice filled with repressed amusement. "Thank you. By chance... would you happen to sell cheeseburgers? I think Sunstorm would appreciate something better than right out of fast-food. So would I, actually."
"Oh that would be great," the demo-Sunstorm moaned.
Serena nodded faintly. "Um... we were close to closing time, but I can ask if the cook's willing to reopen everything."
Sunstorm considered it, then shook her head. "I can wait til tomorrow for it..." She looked over to Legend. "Actually, you know things better than I do. I'll take your suggestions there for something to eat... plus I have no money."
Legend nodded, a smile on his lips. "That does make things awkward."
Serena licked her lips, then cleared her throat. "Actually, there's a good burger joint next street over. I can do a little courier work." She smiled wryly. "I'll just have to lock up the register before I head out, but I'm pretty sure I can trust you..." She looked to the.. Sunstorm, with some trepidation. "To, uh, not drink all the booze while I'm out. My boss will probably want an autograph. In the meantime, can I get you guys a beer before I run?"
"No thanks. I never drink when I fly." The two chorused. Then they blinked, looking at each other.
"Huh," Sunstorm said.
Legend chuckled. "I've been saying that for years."
Sunstorm shook her head. "That's something my mentor says a lot, I just said it on reflex. Still good policy, though. I'll have a Soder Cola Lime, if you've got it."
Serena frowned. "Never heard of that type..."
"How about a Sprite? Or two, actually." Legend suggested delicately. He looked to Sunstorm, an obvious question on his lips.
Sunstorm sighed. "I'll explain later... fewer times I have to tell the story, the better."
He nodded. "Right. Food." He looked to Serena.
She grabbed her keys. "Right, on it!"
Mom is never going to believe this!
----------
November 13, 1999
"It shouldn't have happened."
Mike Gonzales, Airline Crash Investigator, frowned, crossing his arms. "Of course it shouldn't have happened, Ted. Planes really shouldn't fall out of the sky like this."
Flight 197, at least what was currently recovered from it, had been pulled into a hangar at Hanover, where the investigation teams were going over the entire plane. An accident this bad just didn't happen. It was plausible, if a terrible prospect, that one engine had slipped past inspection and malfunctioned. Two engines on the same aircraft failing one after another, and one detonating so badly? Either there was a massive manufacturing defect, in which case every 737 had to be grounded, or there was something else going on, which they needed to get to the bottom of.
Ted Kilian shook his head. "Boss, I mean it. There's no physical way it should have happened. I wasn't entirely sure until we got this..." He walked over to a piece of metal that was under a tarp. When he pulled off the tarp Mike saw what he meant.
"Jesus. That's the engine casing."
"Left side of the port engine case. We got lucky and managed to fish it out of the lake." Ted nodded, pointing with the eraser end of his pencil. "If something in the engine went bad, it'd have buckled outward before it got blown off. It's buckled inward. Like something struck the engine's side with something real heavy, while it was in flight. Or like a bomb went off. Only I'm not seeing any explosives residue. Whatever it was, when it hit, the casing went into the side of the engine, messing up the internals. The fuel line got severed, the heat of the engine ignited the spilling fuel, the casing got pushed back out and fell into the lake." He pointed up at the engine itself, where the capped line lay hanging loose. "Sunstorm managed to stop the leak... but it should have cut off when the Captain hit the switch. It didn't. The fuel line cutoffs were prevented from closing."
Mike frowned, implications creeping over him. "This is an ugly picture and I really don't like it. What have you got on the starboard engine?"
Ted grimaced. "Not as much. The whole thing's in pieces and it was spread out over the field. That being said, what's left of the fuel line shows the same thing, seized cutoffs. At a guess..."
Mike lifted a finger. "No guesses, facts. Seized cutoffs. Damage to the port engine, from outside. Shattered starboard engine, bad enough to take out the wing. Everything that could go wrong did. That doesn't happen by simple accident."
A shout from above, at the plane's rear exit. "Boss, we've got something else here!"
Mike turned. "What is it?"
Ian Ramos pointed to the sides of the exit. "Sunstorm tore the doors off, right? They wouldn't open. The lock mechanisms were physically pushed out of alignment and jammed. Could have happened at any point during the flight, and nobody would know until it came time to disembark. We checked the starboard doors. They're sealed shut too."
Mike's mouth went dry. "Someone was really determined to make sure nobody got off this flight alive."
----------
Daniel Hebert gave a start as a pair of small, wet hands snuck under his shirt, a childish giggle erupting from the culprit. The tiny hands tickled, forcing chuckles out of his throat.
Dropping the dishes into the sink, he turned around, giving his four-year old daughter a serious look. "So, the tickle monster has revealed herself, hmm?"
Taylor twisted on her feet, looking up at him innocently, her glasses slightly askew. "Nah-uh! No tickle monsters here!" She put her hands behind her back, her lips twitching with her masked amusement.
"Oh really? Because I think there's one right..." He made a show of looking around the kitchen, then scooped Taylor up in his arms. "Here!" Mercilessly, he returned the tickling, giggles filling the house. The fighting ceased only as he heard a car turning into the driveway. Taylor started squirming in his arms, and with a smile he set her down, following the energetic child to the front door.
He opened the door, a smile lifting on his face as Annette parked her car. Taylor happily hugged her, and Annette laughed.
"I missed you mommy!" Taylor said, her voice high with joy.
Annette grinned. "I was only gone since this morning!"
"That's forever!"
Sharing a chuckle, the family gathered at the side of the car, pausing only as another car pulled in next door. As the other family got out, Danny's mood shifted.
Maria Tanner had been his next door neighbor for years, working for the bank downtown. Julia Tanner was her daughter, an energetic blonde that had far too much enthusiasm for unicorns and stories. They'd always had a decent relationship. As for Mister Tanner, Maria had once complained about a buxom redheaded secretary and nothing has been said since.
This time however, Maria was gingerly getting out of the car, while Julia hopped out of the back seat, holding a pair of crutches. She quickly gave them to her mother, bouncing with the sheer joy of being helpful.
"Thanks sweetie!" Setting the crutches in place with a huff, she started hobbling back towards her house. Maria gave her neighbors a smile and nod. "Good to see you, Danny, Annette." She broke out into a smile. "Hello Taylor!"
Annette gasped, circling around the fence. "Maria, what happened? You were supposed to be back from Seattle yesterday!"
Danny frowned as he followed his wife, giving a glance to Taylor and moderating his language. "Do I need to call some guys to give someone an education?"
Julia stayed by her mother's side, bouncing on her feet with excitement. "It was amazing! The plane was all boring, then there was a bang! Everybody started yelling and screaming, then I saw something on the wing! A red woman!"
Annette went white, turning to Maria. "You were..."
Maria just nodded, looking a bit exasperated. "Broke my leg during the landing, but it could have been much worse." She smiled weakly. "Not a big deal, compared to the other option."
"Jesus..." Danny said softly.
Julia spread her hands up into the air. "Then she held up the wing, and voom! Things got smooth! Then when the other wing went, she caught the whole plane and held it up! Leg-end helped too, it was amazing!"
Taylor frowned, clearly trying to think things through. "Alexandria coulda done it!"
"But Sunstorm did do it!"
As the girls started arguing, which somehow resulted in Taylor grabbing a towel and chasing Julia around her backyard with the towel wrapped around her shoulders, Danny turned to Maria. "Need any help getting your stuff inside?"
Maria nodded. "Yes, please. And I could really use a drink."
"I'll get something, you can tell us everything." Annette said seriously.
----------
"Welcome back sir. We heard about the trouble on the flight. Can I get you anything?" His secretary asked, clearly nervous.
"No, thank you. It is definitely good to be back." Richard Anders spoke as he walked into his office, fiddling with his tie in one hand, heavy briefcase in the other. "Reschedule my appointments Darlene. I have some things to straighten out."
First his private plane was grounded in Seattle, then his secondary flight was sabotaged in Minneapolis. Had this unknown not been there, Richard would have died like the rest of the commoners on the flight, utterly helpless despite all his power. Once he had more information, Richard would act.
One did not simply anger the Allfather without risking his wrath, after all.
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♦Topic: Rescue of Flight 197: Posted November 10, 1999
In: Boards► Current Events
TorontoCityNews (Original Poster)
Posted on November 11, 1999:
Tragedy was narrowly averted today as Flight 197 experienced what appeared to be an engine malfunction over Lake Huron. Flight 197 is a Boeing 737 that was due for Brockton Bay after refueling in Minneapolis. At 11:55 the port engine suffered a failure and not only lost power, but was spewing fire outside the engine, doing active damage to the wing. As Captain Ian Emerson worked to bring the flight in for an emergency landing, passengers reported a 'figure on the wing' just after 12:15, frightening both passengers and flight crews.
The cape was reported to have come up from behind the plane. On reaching the engine, it appeared at first the 'demon' was actively sabotaging the burning engine, but the fire was put out due to her efforts. Then the cape braced herself beside the engine and filled in for the lost engine.
Legend arrived on scene from out of New York, being the fastest responder the Protectorate has. Quickly working out a plan despite lacking communications, Legend and the newcomer worked to both steady Flight 197 and assist bringing it in for a landing.
When landing procedures began, the starboard engine catastrophically exploded, destroying more than half the starboard wing. The newcomer left her position to grip the plane's fuselage, taking the full weight of the now-powerless plane on her back, while Legend killed the fire and hastily prepared a landing strip out of ice near the airfield just outside of Hanover, Ontario. Flight 197 landed safely, and while there are dozens of injuries reported among the flight crew and passengers, there are no fatalities.
After a brief conversation, and Legend giving the newcomer blankets to protect her modesty, Legend gave the press a brief statement thanking 'Sunstorm' for her work in preventing tragedy this day. Sunstorm herself has yet to comment.
(Showing Page 1 of 4)
► Metakid
Replied on November 11, 1999:
yo thanks Sunstorm , good job saving all those people. Now if only you could have avoided them comming to BB they whould have had a way longer life expectancy, but hey a few more days is nice too
Anyways has anyone heard of her before? Can't say i know of her.
► Squeeky602
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Are we really ignoring the fact that a DEMON just claimed to be a hero. I bet it's just biding its time, infiltrate the Heroes then claim souls while 'saving' them.
► Frostbyte
Replied on November 11, 1999:
As far as I can tell, this is the first time she's ever done anything. And a literal flaming nudist demon is a pretty distinctive look, so I feel safe saying that this is probably Sunstorm's debut. Which is…certainly a heck of a way to come onto the scene. There aren't many capes with the strength or, more importantly, control to be able to safely guide down a falling plane, even with aid from Legend.
► GoodFenrir
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Yeah, it's weird. That kind of control says she's not a newbie. But at the same time with a look like that? No way she could have gone unnoticed for long enough to get that good.
► SpaceSnaps
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Hah! I knew it!
The underground lizard people have finally sent up one of their heralds to welcome in a new age! This is only the beginning before more creatures of hell rise!! God has forsaken us and this is yet another sign!
► Minion#007 (Unverified Goon)
Replied on November 11, 1999:
I, for one, welcome our new Demonic Overlady.
Probably better health plan then my last boss.
► King Chrome
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Every fucking time a strange hero shows up. Can the religious fanatics please shut up about how doomed the world is.
► HaloJoe (Occultist)
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Huh, you know, it actually makes sense. Of course a Demon would save people! After all, if Satan punishes the wicked and evil, doesn't that make him the good guy? And that means all his Demon employees are upstanding people!
So nice of Sunstorm to come all the way up here from home to help us out! And hey, she can punish the wicked and evil while they're still alive!
► Direct-Tyr01
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Re:Frostbyte: what I am concerned about are the engines. 1st engine goes, cape shows up to save the plane, Legend arrives, the plane and passengers look like they'll survive, 2nd engine blows (practically literally), odds of survival drop.
This seems just a little suspicious to me, this is real life not a comic book.
► DreamingofDaemons
Replied on November 11, 1999:
Man, Brockton Bay has to be even worse than I thought if demons are stopping people from going there.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
(Showing Page 2 of 4)
► Streaker (Temp-Banned)
Replied on November 12, 1999:
YES, FINALLY ONE OF MY PEOPLE WILL RISE. SOON THE NUDIST POPULATION WILL GROW, CAST OF YOUR CLOTHES, THEY ARE CHAINS MADE BY THE CAPITALIST MASTERS OF AMERICA!
► SteelHammer (Moderator)
Replied on November 12, 1999:
Not this guy again.
Streaker, take a few days to cool off. Or warm up. Whatever, I don't care, just do it somewhere else.
► Fencing_Guy
Replied on November 12, 1999:
So, what are you guys thinking? Fast enough flight speed to keep up with a 737, albeit a damaged one, and enough strength and durability to sub in as an engine or as landing gear. I could be low-balling it, but maybe like… Mover 5? And obviously a solid Brute rating. We don't actually know her upper limits for either, but it's still a pretty kickass debut feat.
► PostFightClarity
Replied on November 12, 1999:
Burning hot nudist demon lady, and you're telling me she's one of the good ones!?
New favourite Hero.
► GoodFenrir
Replied on November 12, 1999:
Probably not nudist my choice given how fast she covered up given the chance. But at the same time, considering she turns into a parahuman bonfire when exercising her powers she's probably gotten used to it.
I mean what's she supposed to do depending on how strong/hot said fire is, get an asbestos swimsuit? That doesn't sound cheap, or comfortable. Unless there's a Tinker out there specializing in super-fabrics.
► VerifiedWizard (Sometimes in the Know) (Unverified Wizard)
Replied on November 12, 1999:
Bravo for Sunstorm. Whatever her experience, she saved 200 lives today. Who knows whether Legend would have been able to pull it off without her arriving beforehand.
That said, I gotta ask, is the Halloween-demon-esque flaming nudist thing a Changer power or is she stuck like that? Cause that would just be unfortunate. Some capes get screwed over or otherwise altered by their powers, even discounting monster-capes, but most of them who can't wear pants don't need em.
Assuming the nudist thing is because she's on fire, and not because she's a nudist, anyway. Never discount the human element of parahuman, and all that. Even how quickly she covered up doesn't necessarily disprove that. Nudists are still aware of the way people look at naked people outside their own communities and often don't appreciate it, after all.
BUUUT... I'll wait for her press release. 90% chance she gives one in the next week, given that debut - and who she meet during it.
► ProfessorHardraad (Not a Professor)
Replied on November 12, 1999:
I'm thinking about our world and have come to the conclusion that we are in a simulation. I mean we have to be! Entire islands get washed away by a monster we refer to as THE sea serpent, and we get the walking personification of "Fuck you" in Behemoth. Now we've got a stripper demon lady doing her damnedest to stop a plane from crashing into the ground and killing everyone? Right someone somewhere forgot to dial morality correctly here and I'm just really tired and am going to bed.
EDIT: WAIT, SHE'S FROM CANADA!?!?!?
► DinoFinder (Unverified Dinosaur)
Replied on November 12, 1999:
To all the fools freaking out about Sunstorm's appearance, i only have this to say: Buzz Off!
my Gram was on that flight! if it wasn't for her, my Gram would be in the morgue. Instead, I'll be able to go pick her up at the local Clinic after she gets patched up.
I don't know if she'll ever read this, but THANK YOU SUNSTORM! You're one of the Good Ones!
► Gemini
Replied on November 12, 1999:
Re: ProfessorHardraad
I always knew Canada was a frozen Hell, never thought it'd be literally true.
Though this 'living in a simulation' thing, I really hope you're wrong, because what kind of screwed up insane deity would make a world like this?
It's making a disturbing amount of sense and I need to go drink it away.
► ChivalryLives
Replied on November 12, 1999:
So, uh, the investigators are being pretty tight-lipped about exactly what happened to the plane. Whatever went wrong with it to the point where a demon from hell had to rescue it, they ain't saying.
I'm figuring coverup. They don't want the public to know about the invisible surface-to-air missles they were testing. Yes I know it got into trouble in Canadian Airspace, but think about it, that's the perfect cover! Nobody expects Canada to be evil!
That explains Sunstorm too! They got so evil that Satan went 'Hey babe, they're pushing onto my turf' and she went 'Right boss, confusion-fu coming up!'
They don't want you to know! Spread the word before they-
Hang on, someone's at the door.
Right. So they're being all tight-lipped about the investigation and we've got a new hero with an unfortunate power-mutation. Least she did te right thing!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
----------
I shut down the computer, sighing as I rubbed my eyes.
I appreciated that people were willing to give me a chance. I was also rather annoyed that the specific downside to my abilities kept cropping up. It seemed like I was doomed to be an involuntary nudist, no matter what I did. At least back home I'd managed to finally mitigate the problem, but there wasn't much of an option here. At least not yet. I'd need to see what resources were available here and I just didn't have them yet.
I turned to look out the window at the skyline of New York City. Most of it was the same as I remembered from back home, but there were a few buildings conspicuously missing from the horizon that I was used to. The Empire State building, at least, looked exactly as it should. That brought to question, just when was the point of divergence here? Was it simply that fewer important founders took part in history? Or was it something deeper? Answers I needed to get to the bottom to.
A knock came to the door, and I looked over to see a nervous-looking intern fiddling with a filing folder in his left hand. "Miss Sunstorm? They're ready for you."
I smiled, getting up from the stool (I missed being able to sit down in an ordinary chair) and stretched. "Thank you." I grabbed my own file folder from the desk and gave the intern a pleasant smile. "Lead the way."
With a nervous smile, the young man nodded and led me around the Protectorate building. I took my time to nod to each nervous passer-by, conscious of and being very glad for the fact I was actually clothed.
A miracle, I know.
A yellow tank top, which bunched uncomfortably at the back, blue jeans and red boots. Nice, simple, casual, and if I had to go somewhere quickly or wreathe myself in fire, easily replaceable. Not exactly superhero ensemble, but my options were limited. I still didn't have money. That would change in the near future, but by how much I didn't know. There was also the issue that most methods of accessing money tended to be flammable in themselves. Or at the very least, meltable, in the case of credit and debit cards.
As the intern led me to a conference room, and gestured to the doors, I gave him a gentle smile and encouraging nod. "Excuse me, what's your name?"
He stuttered. "Jo-John, ma'am."
"I'm Tracy. Thank you, you're doing fine. Settling into the job okay?" Thank you Kal, for the social lessons. I'd been much better at the social stuff before all this, but then before I was a blonde bombshell instead of a superpowered nightmare. Yes I tried to be gentle and helpful, but there's only so much a demeanor can make up for.
He seemed to relax a little. "Yes, thanks. Um... Legend and the Director are waiting for you. If there's anything you need, I'm at your disposal for your stay here in New York. I-if you're fine with that, ma'am."
I smiled gently. "Just Tracy is fine, John. Thank you. It'll be fine from here."
He smiled gratefully and went off, humming a tune as he walked away.
Huh. Catchy tune.
Opening the doors, I strode in to find Legend, quietly chatting with a black-haired man in a dress shirt and black tie, and a man wearing a set of armor so concealing I could only guess at his gender by the shoulders. In the center of the room was a circular table, surrounded by chairs, and a whiteboard hung on the wall, obviously well-used by the scuffmarks.
Legend smiled as I entered. "Sunstorm. Please, come in." He gestured to the man, a smile on his lips. "This is Director Wilkins of the New York PRT." Then he gestured to the one in armor. "And this is Chevalier. He graduated from the Wards program three years ago."
Wards? Judging from the context, I thought perhaps it was like the Titans. Where the youngest members of the hero community could join together to train and learn from each other. True they usually got into a lot of trouble, but that was the life of a hero.
Wilkins put on a broad smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Sunstorm. Fine work two days ago. It was quite unexpected, though quite welcome, to find someone else willing to help. Especially with a problem of that magnitude."
Chevalier spoke, his voice filled with curiosity. "How did you manage to hold up the plane? The skin of an aircraft just can't normally handle that kind of weight over such a small surface. I could probably do something to make that work if I had time, but..."
I chuckled. "Trust me, I don't get it either. Where I come from most people with superstrength can just do something like that. I'm glad I'm one of them, otherwise... that would have ended very differently." I paused for a moment before I looked at Wilkins. "I assume this meeting is being recorded?"
He nodded. "Standard procedure. Is that an issue?"
I shook my head. "No, it just means that will make things a bit easier. I will ask for certain bits to be classified, at least until I can chase down a few possibilities. What I'm going to ask for will make more sense when I explain." I gave Legend a nod and a smile. "I did say I wanted to explain as few times as possible."
He grinned good-naturedly. "I'll send you the bill for your burger when you get your first paycheck."
Chuckling, I moved to the whiteboard on the wall, picking up a marker. "This is going to get a bit complicated, and keep in mind I have a layman's understanding and I don't have a deep understanding of the theory. How much do you know about multiverse theory?"
Wilkins' eyebrow went up. "You're saying you're from another universe? That would explain a fair bit. We thought at first you were one of the unfortunates with mutations, or using a Changer state, but not everything adds up in those cases."
I paused, then slowly turned around, incredulous. I hadn't even gotten the cap off and he beat me to the punch. "I was not expecting you to jump to the end."
Chevalier laughed. "We've seen a fair bit of weird stuff over the years. Professor Haywire tore a hole between our Earth and another one, Earth Aleph. Nearly caused a war, but things are a bit more stable now. There's some trade going on, mostly information, media, that kind of thing. Guy's still at large, he's not easy to catch considering he can hop between realities."
Lovely. "Well, I still need to lay out some of the background so you know of some possible threats in the future, as well as what I'm going to be looking for."
At their nods, I uncapped the marker and made four... no, wait, he mentioned one they know about. Five, parallel lines. "Picture these as the various universes. This is... really simplified, and I'm just running on layman's knowledge here, so I can be very, very wrong on a lot here. This is just how it was explained to me and I don't know the math."
At their nods, I went on. "You said you know about another universe, Aleph?" At Legend's nod, I marked down the line furthest on the left with 'Aleph' beside it. "You call this one...?"
"Earth Bet." Wilkins spoke, his voice somewhat subdued.
Making the appropriate mark on the next line, I nodded. "Okay, think of it this way. Each universe runs in parallel. What happens in one doesn't have much, if any, effect on the other. However, both universes have an Earth, meaning there's a common origin. Or at least a recognizable origin. Other details may line up too. My world also has a New York City, an Empire State Building, was founded in rebellion against the British Empire, and so on. Details differ... I spent the last day or so going through your American history, and some of the presidents differ. More as we get closer to the 20th century. My USA has a lot more large cities, too, and there's more countries in various places. Usually small ones, but they're around."
I wrote a small JL next to the fifth line, the furthest on the right. "Near as I can figure, my universe is farther from yours than..." I wrote an E3 on the one next to it, to its left. "Here. I've had contact with other universes before. What we call Earth 3 was weird to us..." I gestured to Legend. "It was like... as if you were a villain there, running a successful drug syndicate and killing people from orbit with your lasers."
Legend's mask shifted up as he pondered that. "That's a disturbing thought."
I nodded. "Back home, the greatest hero is an alien, a Kryptonian named Kal-El. He goes by Superman, and he's saved countless lives and protects the world as one of the founding members of the Justice League." I tapped the E3 line. "On Earth 3, his counterpart is Ultraman. He's a vicious crimelord with all the same abilities, reversed weaknesses, and the only reason he's ever dealt with threats to his world is because it threatens his exploitation of it."
I tapped the line labelled 'Earth Bet' "When I woke up here, I didn't find evidence of Superman's presence here. I assumed time travel at first, because he revealed himself in August 2000 and has been helping people since."
"Wait." Wilkins put up his hand, frowning. "That's next year."
I smiled wryly. "I got my own powers in 2011. The last year I remember was 2022. Not everything, my head's a bit fuzzy as to how I got here. But time travel is a thing and it is a very, very big headache. That being said, it's not all that relevant right now. What is relevant are some of the big threats that tend to attack my world. I don't know what you guys can handle and the big threats needed heavy hitters to stop."
I handed the file folder I was carrying to Director Wilkins. "I wrote down everything of the big ones I can remember. There's four of them I'm really concerned about. If I can get here, it's possible they could too. Smaller threats can probably be handled, even if they're a problem on a local scale." Turning to the board, I made two lines, crossing over the top and bottoms of the lines representing the various universes. "From above and below... sort of. It's complicated.
"The most likely one, but also the easiest to handle, is Brainiac. It is, or rather was, an AI developed on Krypton, and is partially responsible for the planet's destruction. At least in ensuring only Superman got away, anyway. It's travelled the universe, gaining knowledge and data, improving itself. It wants my Earth because Earth sits on a Nexus..." I grimaced. "They say it's because Earth is the center of the multiverse. I don't buy that, because hubris, but the Nexus is real and it's possible to rather easily hop universes using it. Brainiac wants it so it can grow in many more universes that way. Thankfully it's more like a horde of robots. Its Avatars are very powerful, but few, it takes a lot of resources to make one. More often it just throws a lot of robots at a target. Ordinary, if well-armed, humans can take out the fodder. If Brainiac manages to take over the Nexus he'll show up here eventually. The League is working to prevent that, but Brainiac has a lot of cannon fodder."
As the people around the room nodded, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. Tapping the line on top, I spoke. "In a dimension that sort of sits 'above' our level, is what the natives call Fourth World. They're populated by the New Gods, beings that are... extraordinarily powerful. The weakest of them can stand in for powerful superhumans back home, and the most dangerous of them is Darkseid."
"Sounds edgy." Chevalier spoke, his fingers tapping on his armored leg.
I chuckled. "Yeah. He's the New God of Tyranny, and he's obsessed with putting everyone underneath his heel. The thing is, Fourth World connects various universes... you can go from one to another with a bit less difficulty than you can on our end. Darkseid wants everything, everywhere, every universe, serving him. It's his nature, he can't not be that way. Theoretically he could be killed, but another God of Tyranny would come about fairly quickly. It'd still buy time, however. He's dangerous, and smart, but there's certain limitations. He can't actually come down to our universe level in full, but his avatars are powerful enough. He tends to use organized crime in the various worlds he intends to conquer. Supplying them with advanced weaponry, teleporters to get away, things like that. Issue is they're like paving stones, those items just prepare the way for an invasion by making the target world more like his homeworld, thus allowing an avatar to step through with an army."
"That could be a major problem." Wilkins spoke quietly. "There's always a Tinker or two supplying people with advanced weapons. Could you recognize the difference?"
I grimaced. "Maybe. I've seen Apokoliptian weapons before, there's a certain design to them. It depends on whether the 'Tinker' weapons are like them or not. They are mass-produced, though."
"That'll help." Legend nodded. "Tinker weaponry tends to be one of a kind. Not always, depends on resources, but it's more common for a given weapon to be unique."
I nodded at that, then tapped the line below the universe-lines. "Now from below is another realm. Personally I call it the Underworld, because... well, Hades of the Olympian pantheon is there, among other things. I say 'below' because in some way things we do on our level affects what happens down there, but the reverse happens rarely."
At the skeptical looks, I held up my hand. "I'm not expecting you to believe me just on my word. I literally have no proof to show you because I arrived here naked. Which is really fucking annoying, by the way. But if I didn't inform you, and something did come up, response will be quicker rather than me trying to brief on the edge of disaster."
Wilkins nodded slowly. "Understandable. Please, continue."
I nodded. "Anyway, I call it the Underworld because like how Fourth World connects from above, the Underworld is 'below' our level. There's various afterlives, infernal realms, both good and bad. It's also home to..." I sighed. "Demons. There's a demon lord called Trigon, he's also a kind of conqueror. He uses his half-human children to make a portal into a world, and once he comes through he starts dragging it into his realm. A Hell, basically."
The room grew silent. Before anyone could speak, I lifted my hand. "First, I'm not one of his children. One serves as a hero, a quite effective one at that. The other six serve Trigon, individually they're not too hard to deal with. You just need someone who is able to resist the temptations of whatever vice they appeal to. It's Trigon himself that's the big problem, and there's going to be warnings before he can appear. Rivers of blood, fire from the sky, that kind of thing. Problem is the world's a big place and those can be missed, depending on where they happen."
Chevalier spoke softly, clearly trying to be civil. "Then why do you...?"
I'd decided before this I wasn't going to explain everything. The source of my powers, especially. Even if the Protectorate and PRT were full of good people, if the info was written down or even spoken of, it might get out to more malicious parties. Luthor was very well informed about the movements of superhumans, and often did what he could to exploit it.
I'd rather not wake up one morning with the back of my head sliced open from some asshole trying to get my Exobyte. I don't know if it would even work, but I know someone would try. Being somewhat vague about the nature of how I got my powers would likely work. There's a ton of different ways, so just guessing mine would likely go down the wrong avenue. I don't know what would happen if I did lose it, and I'd rather not find out.
I sighed. "The event that gave me my powers, was caused by a villain who keeps trying to kill Superman. It's a long, long story, and without context it probably won't mean much to you. But because of what he did around sixty-eight million people got powers, all over the world. Some are better off than me, others got it worse. I got... at least something demonic, but not just that. My lifting the plane definitely came from the Kryptonian package. Which I am just now realizing means nothing to you." I said as I took in their somewhat confused expressions.
I ticked off my fingers. "Flight, superstrength, superspeed, effective invulnerability. Those are the major expressions of Kryptonian powers. They can also use heat vision, blasting things at range with heat that starts at 'boil coffee' and I have no idea where it ends. They've also got freezing breath and absurdly good senses. Superman, Supergirl, Power Girl, can see the entire electromagnetic spectrum and hear events happening miles away." I shrugged. "I don't have all of those abilities, but I do have some. Not the senses, thankfully, or I'm sure the noise would drive me insane. I do have the more famous bits... I'm really hard to hurt, strong, can move really fast. I'm fairly sure I can access the heat vision and freezing breath, along with a whole lot of other abilities tied to my fire."
Chevalier spoke, sounding a bit dubious. "Sounds like a 'Kryptonian' is like a combination of the original Protectorate. Minus Hero, I suppose."
I chuckled. "I'll take your word for that, there. I need to do a lot of catching up. Back home I'm not the heaviest hitter. I'm one of the toughest, but there are those stronger, even with the people who got their powers in the same event I got mine. Trouble is, my powers aren't working the way I'm used to. I need to train and relearn some things, to get back up to where I should be. Or at least close to it. As for how much of me is demon... honestly I don't know. I don't feel any desire to serve Trigon or cause suffering for the joy of it, but it's a thought that keeps me awake at night."
Legend nodded in sympathy. "I imagine that must be hard for you. Especially if you can't change back."
I sighed. "It hasn't been fun. Honestly if it wasn't for a good friend, I wouldn't have lasted the initial year... demons are, or at least seem to be myth here, but back home they're a very real and horrific threat. Being lumped in with them on every first impression is rather tiresome." I shook my head. "Anyway, Trigon can be handled, usually by severing whatever anchor he's using to exist in whatever world he wants to subsume. Usually that means breaking the possession of whoever he's puppeting, or crushing an artifact, that kind of thing. Unfortunately I'm no expert on the mystical side of things, so my solutions would be very brute-force. There's better ones, but I don't know them."
Wilkins nodded. "Better than nothing. What's the last threat?"
I nodded, wincing as some rather painful memories welled up. "We call him Doomsday. Superman's our ace, but Doomsday... Doomsday's basically our equivalent of an Endbringer. He doesn't want anything, or at least he's never made demands or do anything more than roar and growl and smash. He's really good at smashing, killing, and he never gets tired of it. He's got no followers, no infrastructure. He just showed up one day, thrashed the League and then he brawled with Superman to the point we thought they'd killed each other. Superman was down for more than a year. In their fight, they'd crossed half the United States and left destroyed towns and cities in their wake. Metropolis was so badly damaged that they carved out the center of the destroyed region and dedicated it as Memorial Park." I nodded to the folder. "There's other smaller threats in there, some dangerous, some lethal to lots of people, but those four are the world-ending level ones I know about."
"I certainly appreciate the warning." Legend spoke, his voice soft. "So what's your plan for the future? I'm sure we wouldn't mind you joining up, we could help you get your feet under you."
Wilkins nodded, his voice filled with sympathy. "There's been a number of... non-standard capes that have appeared, when we find them we usually help them get a legal identity. None of them have memories, so we usually have to assign them names and such, but as you seem to remember your past that'll make things easier. We can get you a stipend to start with, even if you don't join, but that's limited. It's supposed to help capes with nothing get started, not end up homeless. Not a permanent solution."
I smiled. "I don't think I'd mind joining up, but first there's a few things I should check out. There's a lot missing on this world which is there on mine, but there still might be parallels. Superman's counterpart might be wandering around somewhere, and I know of a weak spot to the Underworld in Greece. Well, off the coast of Greece. One of the other founders of the Justice League, Wonder Woman, came from a society charged with protecting it. If they exist here, then it's possible some of the threats I mentioned might be able to get here too." I sucked in a deep breath. "If I can't find them, it's both good and bad. Good as it's less likely for an associated threat to show up, but also bad in that a good hero won't be around to help meet it if it appears anyway."
Legend nodded with understanding. "And also to see if the ones you're looking for are not as you expected, like that 'Ultraman.'"
I nodded. "Best to be prepared for that scenario, too. I also need some time to focus, see what I can do. I also need to try and check on how I got here. I can think of a few possibilities, but since I can't remember what caused me to land here, I've got to dig through them. I can't go digging if I'm tied down somewhere." I huffed. "Now if this was more like my own Earth I'd be off going right now, but things are very different here and I don't know how different. I don't know the problematic threats, points of concern, kidnappers, mind-controllers, army-raisers, warlords, and so on. Before I start looking for the local Wonder Woman or Kal-El, I'm going to need to know what to avoid."
I hadn't mentioned Batman, mostly because if he was around and wanted to stay hidden, he wouldn't be found. I could poke around for him on my own without too much of a concern. If his counterpart was like Owlman instead, he would still be a problem, but less so than the rest of the Crime Syndicate.
Legend winced. "That's... unfortunately a rather long list. The way Trigger Events work more appear all the time. Their nature is somewhat unpredictable, as well. An area could be safe one day and a very big problem the next. Ones we do have information on means they should be avoidable, but I know certain groups that would love to get their hands on you."
"Never fun." I nodded. "The first one I want to check on is the easiest one for me to find. I just need to check out a spot in the Aegean Sea. I also don't want to raise tensions my poking around might cause. I... really have no idea about the political landscape around here. I need to do a lot of homework before I start knocking things over."
Wilkins nodded slowly. "We can likely handle that, especially if we use the reasoning of checking on a possible S-class threat. If this 'Underworld' of yours is what you say it is, or even vaguely like it, we should know about it."
Chevalier chuckled a little nervously. "Yeah, we've got enough problems, an invasion from Hell sounds like it would be so much worse."
I laughed softly, giving him a nod. "Well, on the plus side, most of the problems with such an invasion can be solved with enough gunpowder, lead, maybe a chainsaw..."
Chevalier laughed. "Miss Militia would love that, then. Did you play Doom?"
"Doom?" I said blankly.
The waters of the Aegean Sea roiled below me, as if they were trying to reach up and catch me. Unfortunately for them, I wasn't threatened by a simple storm, even if the wind and rain did make me miserable. It had taken nearly four hours of flight to reach the location of Themyscira, though the skintight suit the New York Protectorate had made for me had held up admirably well to the challenges of supersonic flight. Unfortunately it wouldn't handle my fire, but we can't have everything.
At least I can't. Grumble, grumble, mutter, mutter, get off my lawn.
I knew I could go faster. I'd hit about Mach 2 during my flight over the Atlantic, and strength wise that wasn't taxing. If I'd gone much faster, though, even this tightweave suit would have shredded to nothing by the time I arrived. Once I'd decided to settle somewhere, I'd have to see about making a suit that would withstand the everyday stresses I put on it. It'd be really nice to have something that could handle orbital re-entry velocities.
I pressed a finger to the communicator in my ear. "This is Sunstorm, I'm near the location. Be advised, if the island is protected as I expect, we will lose radio contact shortly. If it isn't, I'll be reporting back when I have an assessment. I will report back in six hours if things are as I hope."
"Understood Sunstorm. Good luck." The voice of Neophyte, back in New York, echoed in my ear a moment later.
Rather impressive they managed to make satellite communicators so small and reliable with 1990's technology. 'Tinkertech' while notoriously unreliable, seemed to hint at some things that were possible, inspiring some companies to attempt to build smaller, better. Then you had weirdness where you gave a Tinker an hour in a junkyard and they made a railgun out of duct tape and scrap... when the damned thing didn't even have a magnet of any kind.
Ginger, if I ever see you again, I owe you an apology.
Back home, Themyscira was protected by various defenses, lain by the Gods of Olympus. The first was it was in a dangerous part of the Sea, where there were hidden rocks and currents. That made it harder for ships to reach through it. The second was an illusion, making the island invisible, at least from the outside. The third was a mild suggestion to just dismiss the area as unworthy of note. Now it wasn't perfect, and part of that was deliberate. Poseidon occasionally threw a ship to the Amazons so the women could conceive new children. The daughters were raised as Amazons and the sons became servants of the gods. The shipwrecked men tended to be executed after they were no longer useful.
Barbaric, I know, but the world was a rather barbaric place when the system was set up thousands of years ago, and the Gods of Olympus were still rather conservative. Also considering many of the Amazons were reborn women who died from... less than pleasant acts from men, it was understandable. It was one of the reasons the Amazons tended to kill men on sight, when they landed on Themyscira's shores through misfortune. It wasn't just the law of Themyscira, it was the pain that they had so much trouble healing.
The mystical defenses were pretty potent when put together, and if some invading army did manage to get past those, they'd have to contend with an army of enraged ageless warrior-women who are all beyond human strength and speed, and all who have had centuries to hone their skills at least. The insular status quo only changed when Steve Trevor crash-landed there during the Second World War, and was spared immediate execution when he fought to defend a German defector who had intelligence on Vandal Savage's Nazi forces. Even that wouldn't have worked if the defector hadn't been a woman.
Hippolyta had been distrustful of the pair, but she left the island to see the state of the world, given that the mystical defenses had been breached so readily. She'd helped during that time, helping to stop the war in Europe, but her own antipathy towards men made her return to the island afterward. Only then did she shape her daughter with the clay provided by the Gods, and it took Diana's fresh perspective to finally open Themyscira to talks with the rest of the world.
Here? Well.. I suppose I'll find out what happened here.
I dove my way through the air, keeping my gaze locked on the coordinates where I knew where the island should be. Dropping down until I was merely fifty feet over the water, I slowed as I reached the point where the illusion would be... only nothing happened as I crossed that line.
My heart sank slowly.
I drifted forward, finding there was, indeed, an island where the ever-warm paradise of Themyscira was supposed to be... but it was small, craggy, barren. It looked like the sharp top of a mountain peak, barely more than the size of a four story house sticking above the water. There was no place to land a boat safely, the sharp spines of slick ocean rocks surrounding the island, and even a helicopter couldn't land. There simply wasn't enough room.
Still, I had the advantage of being able to land here. The rocks were slick, but I didn't need to actually set my weight on them. Taking my time to look around the crags, I found a crack large enough to walk into. I'd have missed it if I weren't right up against it. Igniting a small flame in my left hand to serve as a light source, I floated my way inside.
It turned out to be a small chamber, carved out by the water and wind. It didn't look like humans had ever entered here, or if they had they simply gave up and left. Had this been a tomb, I'd have felt sorrow at the end of the Amazons, but as it was there was nothing here. It was as if the Amazons I knew never existed. If the Gate to Tartarus was here, it was likely buried down below the waves.
Exiting the chamber, I pressed my finger to my communicator. "There's nothing here. There is an island, but it's not what I expected. It's just a barren rock."
"Copy that, Sunstorm." Neophyte spoke, his voice clear and professional. "You are cleared to return."
I spoke, feeling quite tired. "I still recommend placing some monitoring equipment here, in case of the S-class threat I mentioned. However, its presence is less likely. It's shifted further down the priority list."
"Understood. Director Wilkins is requesting an ETA."
Taking a deep breath as I looked out over the waves of the Aegean sea, I was beginning to feel very, very lost. If Kal-El was wandering around somewhere, he had a lot more experience in blending in than I did in hunting down leads. His ship would have appeared to be a meteor, but he could have arrived at any time. For all I knew he arrived back in 1938 and just relaxed on an island somewhere... though I doubt he would have just sat out World War 2. He was just too gentle to sit out when people were suffering. I doubt he'd sit out Endbringer attacks, either.
Still. I should look, just in case. I already had the feeling that I would likely not find anything. It was still a hope, but a receding one. I didn't know much about this world, but I already knew it needed help. I don't think I could be what they needed. I was a junior member for crying out loud! These people already had powers, organization, heroes like Legend. What could I do that would change things?
I sat on the roof of St. Michael's, my father's voice ringing in my ears.
"Go on! Leave my house, after I spent my life raising your ungrateful..."
"Always useless."
"Monster! Murderer! Now your true self is shown. I should have..."
"Satan's lies! I will not hear them!"
A gentle voice, a voice I had heard on the radio, on the television, but never in person and never directed at me before. "Tracy Vigdis, right?"
I whirled on the voice, my hand tight on the shotgun pressed against my chest. "Why are you here!? I'm not... I don't..." I sucked in deep breaths as I tried to pull myself together and failed, miserably. "Don't you have anyone more important to be helping right now!?"
Superman's voice was quiet, full of sympathy. "I consider you to be important. Blackwing was worried when you didn't check in."
Ginger. Of course, she joined the League while I was scrambling around like a chicken with my head cut off. "I just... fuck. What do I have to look forward to? If I have to spend the rest of my life as a monster, what's the point? What if I just snap one day, or, or... what if my father is right?"
Slowly, Superman drifted to sit down next to me. He made no move to take the gun. "In my experience, monsters don't worry about whether they're monsters. It's not appearance, either. I've seen some truly dangerous monsters, and they looked like normal people. Some of them looked quite attractive. I don't see a monster in front of me."
"Yeah but you're... you!"
He looked a bit amused by my brilliant articulation. "The last time I checked, yes."
"Argh!"
Superman just looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Feel a little better?"
I wanted to stay mad at him. He was just so... mild. Trying to stay mad at him was like trying to stay mad at a puppy. Finally I sighed, giving Superman a wry smile. "A little."
We shared companionable silence for a moment. I gestured at the town below us. "I wanted to be away from here. My dad... Mom died when I was really little. I don't remember much about her. I just remember some little things, the smell of the bread when she made it. A lullaby when I couldn't sleep. But I can't remember her face. Dad... he always blamed me for it, and I don't know why. We had... at least I thought we had started to patch things up, then, well, this." I gestured to myself.
Superman nodded slowly. "One of the hardest lessons I've ever had to learn was that there are things out of my control. Here I can do... just about anything." He made a sweeping gesture, indicating not just the town, but beyond. "But what I can't do is control what other people think. I've got my own detractors, my naysayers. I just try to remember what... a good man I once knew told me."
I tilted my head as I looked at him.
He smiled, seeing he had my attention. "You have to decide who you want to be. Good character or bad. You're, what? Seventeen, eighteen?"
"Eighteen." I nodded slowly.
He nodded, his voice soft. "You still have your whole life ahead of you. Forget about what you look like right now. What kind of person does Tracy Vigdis want to be? Not a job, or a career. Those are the kinds of things other people see each other as, it's an easy way to define each other. It works well enough for day-to-day things, but that's not all of what someone is. I do what I do not just because I have the ability, but the freedom. I help because I want to."
I could feel the tension in my shoulders relaxing. Turning to look up at the encroaching night sky, I felt very small, and yet... I didn't have the words to describe what I was feeling. "I was studying to become a metahuman researcher. I wanted to... find out how all these things worked. So many people with powers appearing. I wanted to know the underlying cause."
"A worthy goal." Superman nodded with a smile. "Now you can still do that, if you want. It might be harder, but STAR Labs would likely be happy to help you finish your education. You have a lot of options ahead of you. Would it really be a good thing to throw it all away?" He looked meaningfully down at the shotgun in my hand.
I mulled that over, and once again we shared companionable silence. Finally I spoke. "Don't I have the responsibility to do something with these powers? I mean, with everything happening..."
Superman chuckled. "You don't have to do anything. I'm not going to force you into the League, if that's what you're worried about. Even long-term members have left when life has called them away. I do suggest you get a handle on what you can do, but once you've mastered yourself there are a lot of paths open to you. Don't let someone else turn you into the monster you're afraid of. And please, don't let your fear over what might be bad destroy every good thing that could happen to you, too."
I slowly settled onto the roof, my hand loosening. "You just want me to join up."
He shook his head. "What I want is for Tracy to be okay when I leave. I won't lie and say it wouldn't please me if you joined the fight, to help others. We need every helping hand we can get. But what I want is to help a certain Miss Vigdis to be okay."
I pondered that for a while. Finally I spoke, flicking on the safety. "I think I will be. I'm going to be a while, but I'll be okay."
As I held out the weapon, Superman gently took it, setting it beside him with care. He smiled gently, and I blinked away tears.
"Thank you." My voice croaked.
As his warm arms wrapped around me, I just slowly relaxed. Finally I spoke softly, a wry chuckle underneath my tears. "The gun probably wouldn't have worked anyway, right?"
Superman chuckled at that. "Maybe, maybe not. Don't know enough. Would rather not find out."
I blinked back the memory. No. No. I'm not going to dwell on that asshole, or that goddamned day. That happened more than ten years ago now. I'm not going to let him keep ruining me. I had a better role model.
I've saved lives, I've run with the heroes of the world, I just kept a plane from crashing and killing everyone on board. I'm not going to let a small, angry little man chip away at me further. Even if he was my father. If I wasn't here, two hundred people would very likely be dead. It's small, compared to the problems of the entire world, but it isn't nothing.
Things hadn't been very good for me since I got my Byte. Yes, powers beyond anything I could have dreamed of having, but everything's been a long fight, repeatedly, ever since. I got occasional downtime, spent a month on Themyscira learning Greek, and recovering from some rather tough missions. But aside from Ginger I'd had almost no friends. I'd been... so afraid of opening up again. The League helped somewhat, but there were always something coming up.
I missed the days when things were fairly innocent. When I didn't know what kind of man my father was. When my worst problem was that I had to worry about rent money and burned dinners. They seemed so large at the time, but compared to the responsibility of rescuing people, of the stress of combat, of having to fight against madmen and murderers? Of having to worry about the possibility that I had a new family, literally from Hell?
Well... they were a lot simpler. I know that someone had to deal with that stuff before, but I still missed the days when it wasn't me. Despite all that, though, I was proud of the things I'd done.
"Sunstorm? Do you read?" Neophyte's voice echoed in my ear.
I blinked. I nearly forgot I was in mid-conversation when I got lost on my tangent. "Yes, I copy. My apologies. On my way now. ETA, seven hours."
I was going to take longer getting back. Not because it would be a longer journey. Simply because I wanted to think.
----------
In the guest quarters at the New York Protectorate building, I frowned as I drew on a sheet of paper.
I wasn't a very good artist, far from it, but this was more of a brainstorming session. I needed clothes that wouldn't burn, and ideally would be able to handle moving at extreme speeds, or even re-entry heat. My Kryptonian armor back home could handle that, due to it generating a similar field to my own. It wasn't as strong, but it was enough to protect it against almost everything short of an empowered Kryptonian. At least in the short term.
Technically speaking it ran on a battery. Hyper-advanced battery, but a battery. When it ran out of power the crystalline material became relatively brittle... if still able to take a direct hit from a tank's main gun and not break. The person inside would be reduced to mush, though. Without the inertial dampening systems, all that energy would still go somewhere unpleasant.
I didn't have to worry about that, but there was one small problem about recreating that armor myself. I had no Sunstones to start with. If I had a small seed I could theoretically make more, given time and pumping it full of energy... and figuring out how to program it. So realistically, even if I had a seed to start regrowing the armor, I'd need someone's help to get it started. Maybe not Luthor-level, but at the very least someone who knew how to program in a completely alien language.
There were people with powers like that back home, and probably some here. It was still a moot point with nothing to start with. Even just starting to build a seed crystal would take more knowledge than I could figure out in a lifetime.
So my alternative was something less pie in the sky and a bit more grounded. Mundane materials, if somewhat difficult to get my hands on as a private citizen. Forget covering my arms and legs, they were extra material that just got in the way. If something was around that could cut through my flesh, armor wouldn't help anyway. I might not be as tough as I was used to, that's something I'd have to figure out, but my flights across the Atlantic and back already showed me I was tougher than a lot of people back home. Probably here, too. I'd have to go out somewhere and test my limits, but testing my durability would be rather difficult.
Maybe ask Alexandria for a spar? Apparently she was rather similar in physical prowess to what I was used to.
Well, before I did that I'd want to make sure I can actually heal from my fire. Otherwise I might be laid out for a long while. Bathing in ordinary fire would work as well, but I had to be sure my own generated fire would work. It did before all this, but before I had my Byte to handle so much more.
So. Body suit. It'd have to be heat-resistant, and ideally something that could at least not shatter when it came to gunfire. It didn't actually have to be bulletproof, as I was actually tougher than most mundane materials, it just had to not shred if I had to get in front of a machine gun. Steel layered with a tungsten coating would work to help whisk off the heat. A pair of boots would be good. They would have to be tough, too, and have a means of staying on despite the heat I generate. Ordinary straps would just burn, and magnetic constrictors would only work until things got quite heated. They'd lose cohesion after a point.
Actually that would probably work fine unless I ended up fighting something on my level. If that happened the loss of boots would be the least of my problems. A pair of gauntlets would help round out the attire... would probably get smashed to bits the first time I hit anything with my full strength, but that probably wouldn't come up for a while.
I stopped and looked at my sketch. Yes it looked like something a six year old would put on the fridge, but it was just a brainstorming session. Unlike Ginger, I didn't need to put environmental systems or anything too complicated into my suit. I was no genius, but for this? I didn't need to be.
Normally at this point I'd put the symbol of the House of El on the front. Everyone knew what it meant back home, which had helped offset the... difficulties I had with my appearance. As much as I hated to admit it, his symbol meant nothing here. Everyone would think it was mine and... well, while it would probably work, it didn't feel right. That was his family crest. It meant more than that to the people of my world, which is one reason Superman allowed the whole thing. But here?
No, the best my wearing it would do is get the local Kal-El's attention... and considering these people have been fighting Behemoth and Leviathan for years, he either wasn't around or he was fine just not participating.
On the side of the crude drawing I sketched a circle, representing the sun. I then drew three prominences over its surface, one over the top and two below. With my rather... pedestrian drawing skills, it looked more like a flower than a sun, but in actual color it would look right.
Most importantly... this is something I could make myself. The steel would be relatively cheap, the tungsten a fair bit more costly, but I could do it with a bit of time in a basement, some casts and my own powers. I'd done it before. It was annoying to keep having to replace it, but it would at least last more than one afternoon. Now if I joined the Protectorate, they'd make the armor for me, but I'd always preferred my own work. At least until I was given my Sunstone suit. That I could maintain, but not build. At least I could maintain it once I had my own base... something that's a bit out of my reach right now.
I realized that, despite feeling lost, overwhelmed, and uncertain... I was smiling.
----------
Michael Peters, the PR agent for the New York Protectorate, frowned at me. "You're a difficult case, Miss Vigdis." He opened the first folder on his desk, pulling out the first page. "Right now, you're ahead of the game. Your rescue of the flight has given you a lot of goodwill, but there's always going to be an uphill battle when it comes to your presentation."
I just lifted an eyebrow. "Believe me. I know. I've had to live with it for more than a decade." I pointed one of my horns at him as I tilted my head.
He made a wry smile, pulling back on his short, graying hair. "Now I'm thinking we can cut out a bit. People know about the... differently-bodied capes out there, some have even joined the Protectorate. You, on the other hand, are not just strong but quite attractive, and that'll get you ahead as far as recognition goes. It's an uphill battle, but I think we can push a 'rebellious demon' angle, since you are stuck looking this way. We're not going to go overboard on the religious stuff, but-"
"No," I said.
He blinked owlishly. "No?"
"No," I said firmly. "You might consider me crazy, and I'll be the first to admit it probably does sound crazy when all you have is my word. I have met demons, and aliens, and gods, all of which I have had to fight. Sometimes as an ally, more often as an enemy. I'm not going to say I'm one of the unfortunates you've picked up when I'm not. I'm also not going to claim to be a demon who has 'seen the light' or 'seeks to redeem myself' or any such thing. I am not going to lie about my origins, and I literally can't have a secret identity. I am always going to look this way, and I am not going to live as an impossible image for the rest of my life."
I lifted a finger as he opened his mouth. "I understand you are typically dealing with someone getting started, or rebranding someone who has screwed up. I am neither. I'm going to tell the truth in that I'm from another universe. I'm not going to tell everything about it because I literally have a million other things to do, and there are a lot of secrets that aren't mine to tell."
He mulled that over for a moment, then sighed. "If we tell everyone you're from another universe, a lot of people are going to jump to the conclusion you're literally from Hell. People leap to conclusions, because most people don't have the time to take everything on a case-by-case basis. If someone looks threatening and they're not, it's an awkward bit of embarrassment at worst. If they look threatening and they actually are, it's too late. If you're going to join the Protectorate, we're going to need to soften that. At least enough until you've got enough of a reputation that they don't think 'demon' looking at you anymore. Just 'our hero.'"
I smiled like a shark as I held up my own folder, dropping it on his desk. He opened it, an eyebrow going up as he looked over the sheets, the design for the armor, a rough idea of what it would look like.
Yes my drawing skills are crap, but I'm at least moderately better in Microsoft Paint.
Slightly better.
I could tell Peters wasn't exactly impressed by the art skills, but when he looked back up into my eyes, his gaze was thoughtful. "You really have some experience at this kind of thing. Primary colors, an open face, an emblem. That's... a lot more than I was expecting."
I nodded with a slight smile. "I can't have an ordinary secret identity. No matter what I do, I'm still going to be scary even when I'm getting groceries. Growing a reputation will help in time, as you said. But to start with, I'm going to not only look heroic, I'm going to have to be, and that suit I've used before to good effect. I know how to make it on my own. I can even make spares, I just need the supplies. It's based on my third suit. The first one that I didn't just burn off. The materials I'd need to make it nearly impervious to my own fire doesn't exist here, but this will work so long as things don't get too hot."
He rubbed his nose in consideration. "Right. I still think it's a bad idea to say you're from another universe. It brings up complications that people don't really need. Spreading it around the Protectorate, that's understandable, but the public? That's a lot harder to gauge. It's unexpected. It would be much easier to claim you're from a small town... which is even true, we'd just be omitting the complex part."
I shook my head. "It's not simply because of me. I've left a briefing about several larger threats and a lot of smaller ones. If I can get here, so can they, but it's also possible that my superiors in the League, or my friends in the junior branch, might get here too. It'll be a lot easier to make contact once they know that I'm the actual one they're looking for, and not an alternate. Even if that doesn't happen, then I don't have to lie about my ignorance about things. There are countless small differences I'm running into every day here, and frankly I just don't have the energy to pretend to be a native all the time."
Peters sighed, scratching at his palm. "I can see your point. I disagree with it, but I can see it. If we can present this properly, it can be an asset, but that is much, much harder than a story we can cook up."
"I've been fighting for eleven years," I said dryly. "I'm sure I can give a story or three to help with the presentation part."
"Oh?" He spoke, leaning forward. Good to know I had his attention.
"Well, I have spent a bit of time on the Amazon Island Nation of Themyscira..."
We hashed things out for hours.