Bette Sans Souci's capture by A.R.G.U.S. had been pure bad luck. The assassination of Major General Wade Eiling went smoothly—it was the extraction that fell apart. She'd barely finished the job when A.R.G.U.S. arrived, hunting for Eiling because he was one of the few military officers with any real research into superpowers. They found a corpse instead, and Bette hadn't gotten clear in time.
Once they confirmed her identity and her connection to Jack Kadere, everything changed.
In a way, she was fortunate. Without that connection, her fate would have been far worse—dissected for study, or locked away permanently. Maybe conscripted into Amanda Waller's Suicide Squad, a project the woman had never abandoned.
Since Bette had completed her task, Jack intended to keep his word: absorb her explosive abilities and let her live as a normal person for a while. But when she learned he'd arranged for someone to raid an A.R.G.U.S. vault, she decided to tag along—a chance to vent some frustration. Jack didn't mind. He gave her the address and told her about Black Siren. Finding them was her problem.
The Aerie had Trajectory for upgrades, and nothing else demanded immediate attention, so Jack turned his focus to the Kryptonians.
Amanda Waller's behavior made one thing clear: she knew about the aliens. The only question was how. Had they intercepted a transmission, or discovered the Kryptonian scout ship buried in the polar ice of Ellesmere Island?
Tens of thousands of years ago, before Krypton exploded, the planet had already begun its decline—natural resources depleted by overconsumption. The Kryptonians used their advanced technology to scatter scout ships across the galaxy, establishing outposts on distant worlds, planning for a future that never came. Around twenty thousand years ago, one such ship landed on Earth. It carried a growth chamber capable of producing more Kryptonians through the Codex, but the outpost was eventually abandoned. The ship sank into the glacier and stayed there, buried and forgotten, until it would one day become Superman's Fortress of Solitude.
Should I go take a look?
Nothing particularly interesting was happening, and Superman's story was about to begin. A quick reconnaissance couldn't hurt.
Jack returned to the Aerie first, implanting Gideon's program into the Iron Man armor and issuing instructions. Then he activated the Speed Force, stacking his velocity.
Yellow lightning flared and vanished.
Ellesmere Island lay in Canada's polar region. Thousands of miles meant nothing when his speed multiplied several times over. Under accelerated perception, Jack barely registered the passage of time before he arrived.
An endless expanse of ice and snow stretched before him. The climate here kept everything frozen year-round, with nighttime temperatures plunging to forty below. Jack wore only a single layer, but the brutal cold felt comfortable—Killer Frost's copied ability saw to that.
In the distance, a receding iceberg marked where something massive had broken free. Equipment and personnel swarmed the site, busy with whatever investigation A.R.G.U.S. or the government had mounted.
Looks like Superman already left with the Fortress of Solitude. Jack turned away. Time to find Lois Lane.
He disappeared in a blur of yellow lightning.
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Metropolis was prosperous and modern, a city that would eventually become famous for Superman. But right now, another name dominated: Lex Luthor. The man with ninth-level intellect, future nemesis of the Man of Steel, creator of Doomsday—at this moment, he was simply the most powerful businessman in the city. LexCorp rivaled Wayne Enterprises as one of America's premier corporations.
The streets buzzed with traffic. Pedestrians moved at a brisk pace, everyone rushing somewhere.
Jack tapped the bracelet housing his Iron Man armor, and Gideon's holographic image flickered to life above his wrist.
"Gideon, check if Lois Lane has posted anything about Superman online."
The response came instantly. News about Superman existed, but not from Lois Lane—scattered posts on forum sites, nothing official.
"Get me her phone number."
Another instant reply.
Jack dismissed the projection and dialed.
The phone rang three times before a crisp, decisive voice answered.
"Lois Lane."
"I know who you're looking for." Jack's tone carried a hint of amusement.
"You know who he is?" Her volume spiked with sudden excitement. "Where are you? Let's meet."
"I'm at—" Jack paused, his body blurring through space. He reappeared inside an apartment, directly behind a woman with her back to him, phone pressed to her ear. "—right behind you."
The voice from the phone and the voice at her ear overlapped by a fraction of a second. Lois spun around, eyes wide.
"You—"
"Hello. Jack Kadere." He ended the call, pocketed the phone, and extended his hand with an easy smile.
Lois stared for a beat before accepting the handshake. "How did you get in here?"
"I know who you're looking for." Jack didn't answer the question.
Her expression sharpened, all journalist instinct. "Who is he?"
Jack said nothing, watching her with a half-smile. Lois caught on immediately.
"What do you want? Money?" She turned and reached for her wallet on the counter.
Jack walked past her to the coffee table, fingers brushing its surface. Firestorm's ability activated.
Lois froze.
Strange energy rippled across the wood. In the space of a heartbeat, the entire coffee table transformed—cheap laminate becoming solid, gleaming gold.
"That's—" Her voice came out strangled. "Magic? Some kind of illusion?"
She rubbed her eyes. Patted her own cheeks. Then she approached the table slowly, as if it might bite, and ran her fingers across the cold metal surface.
It was real.
The coffee table had actually turned to gold.
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