Yue

 5th February

21:12 GMT -5

I grab 'Ultraboy' with a construct and fly as fast as the narrow confines allow in the general direction of the sound.

"What now?"

Mister J'onzz appears to take it in his stride.

"Would a kryptonian not be able to fly under his own power?"

And there's now a lounge in place of the library…

"My Superboy is a kryptonian-human hybrid. I think that Ultraboy is similar. Last time we met he didn't fly."

"I see."

No more explosions, no running feet… I don't know what's going on here. I stop, listening, trying to scan…

"Are you getting anything?"

His eyes glow faintly for a moment. "No. The magics of this house confuse my senses."

"Great, that-."

"-s'nretnal noitacol!"

A section of the wall panelling next to me grows up to the full height of the wall and sprouts a handle before swinging open. Zatanna steps back from the opening and I see Don Giovanni throwing glowing snakes through the air at a man in gold and blue power armour. He blocks left-handed with an anachronistically simple wood and iron shield, which… Causes the snakes to decay into motes of light. Armour matches what the local Lex Luthor wore, but I can't scan it and the helmet means-.

Small lasers deploy from the armour's gauntlets and shoulders, flicking back and forth as they inscribe an arcane symbol in the wall behind the bruised and bleeding Don. My destructive pulse hits him in the side, buckling and blackening the armour at the point of impact. That's… Weak, but I am less well motivated in this fight than I usually am.

The figure in armour immediately raises his right arm and fires a-. A blue laser at my face, which fails to penetrate my environmental shield. I respond with two construct micro-missile launchers, missiles firing and smashing into his weapons with just enough force to render them inoperable. The Don uses the breathing room to step outside of the near-complete warding circles and snarl at the armoured figure.

"Hsurc!"

Armoured plates tremble and I can hear them as they begin to deform. The armoured figure moves their shield just enough to block the Don's line of sight to the worst affected parts of his armour-.

"Pord eht dleihs!"

His arm jerks, but the shield is attached rather than being held. Alright, power armour and rush him. I swing my right fist, and he intercepts with a.. small kinetic barrier, then I bring my left fist around and slam it into the part of his armour damaged by my destructive bolt. Another force field shimmers into being, but this one is a general purpose plasmic field and nothing like strong enough to stop the force I'm bringing to bear. The armoured warrior is lifted off the ground and shoved-.

**Sleep.**

My armour's psi-baffles prevent me collapsing on the spot, though I still feel a wave of tiredness pass through me. Shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. I drop off a psi shock grenade tuned to Martian telepathic communication patterns and detonate it-

**Ughf!**

-and then follow up on my attack.

"Laeh."

Don Giovanni's bleeding stops and his burned clothing knits back together somewhat as I go for a grapple, x-ionised knives emerging from subspace and stabbing forward to punch through the outer surface of the armoured figure's armour, severing power and control cables where I can without causing undue damage to the person wearing it.

"Dleihs sparts kaerb!"

The shield falls to the ground at the same time Mr J'onzz does, and I take a firm grip of the armoured figure and go to work on the seals attaching the helmet to the rest of the armour. Constructs pull-.

"Surprise, motherfucker."

That's not Lex Luthor. That's Preceptor, the local version of Mr Crock. I suppose that anyone can wear armour.

And-. Everything's shimmering and… And I'm in a workshop, in a powerful force field, and… Those are soldiers and that's half the Justice Underground. Huh, that's what Sir Solomon looks like. Pictures don't really do him justice.

"Release Preceptor, and I will see that you receive a fair trial."

My left hand closes over Mr Crock's head as I turn slightly.

"Mister Vice President, I'm not sure that you have the power to make that offer."

"Just fry us, sir!"

"Not to a Made Man, but I'm fairly sure that you're not one." He's wearing the same armour as Mr Crock, though he's left the helmet off in favour of a heavy collar containing a force field generator.

"And then what? I sit in prison until your fight with the Syndicate reaches its pyrrhic conclusion?" I release my grip on Mr Crock and step away from him. "I intercepted Talon's effort at summoning the Justice League. They're currently in chains in Shadowcrest."

"They're alive?"

"I don't.. want.. to kill people. I've just about got the Syndicate to the point where they're prepared to go into-"

A weak laser shot from one of the weapons I missed on Mr Crock's armour shoots me in the eye piece and fails to penetrate my environmental shield.

"-exile, shut down all significant operations in the United States-."

"And you think we should foist our problems off on someone else?"

"Not on a nice country, but there are plenty of places that the Syndicate won't make worse by taking them over. Somewhere lousy with strife which they couldn't make worse if they tried."

Vice President Luthor takes a moment to check that the various armed men and women in the room haven't disappeared. "I'm not sure that you're in any position to negotiate."

"Of course I'm in a position to negotiate. That's why Power Ring and Olympia brought me here: to try and negotiate a cessation of hostilities. You're my last hope for avoiding all-out confrontation."

He frowns faintly. "You honestly believe that you're not at risk, don't-?"

I

step out and then

back just in front of him.

"Yes, and you've no idea-"

Vice President Luthor doesn't step back, though he does up the output on his force field slightly. Lady Sonar takes a shot, but I'm already braced and my sonic cannon disrupts her blast quite nicely. Shots from the regular soldiers I just ignore, content to let my armour and kinetic barrier soak them.

"-how annoying it is to me that the supervillains are the ones making the peaceful overtures. At the very least-"

Soldiers fall back to give Sir Solomon a clear path. He strides forwards, fists balled, then punches me right in the kinetic barrier to no effect.

"-you should be offering pardons to defectors, stripping away the support for the hardcore of nutters." I shoot a mage slayer round into Sir Solomon's left knee, causing the magics animating him to leave it. He stumbles, and I help him on his way with a right hook. "Or offering them terms of some sort. It's like you people want the country to burn. And I find that a very frustrating attitude."

Q-Ranger's blast burns through my environmental shield and melts into my armour.