Hal blinked, squinting up at the black void, finally noticing the faint silver pinpricks above the city skyline.
"It's night?" he asked, rubbing his temple. "An entire day passed in this bullshit?"
Daniel didn't stop walking. "Yeah. Can't you see the stars? If you can't use your eyes, donate them. At least someone else might get some use out of them."
Before Hal could fire back, the shadows at the bottom of the steps surged up, wrapping around Daniel in a jagged spike of darkness. A second later it collapsed with a sharp crack, leaving the pavement empty.
Hal stood alone on the cratered concrete, listening to the crickets, left with a half-eaten pizza and a ruined Monopoly board.
He stared at the scorch mark, the green glow of his ring humming quietly in the dark. I don't get this guy at all.
Daniel had just held a gun to the head of the entire planet, humiliated the military, and broke the U.S. government in a single afternoon. All for a simple apology.
Hal looked up at the stars.
Ever since he put the ring on, the Guardians of the Universe had treated Earth like a cosmic joke — to the little blue men on Oa, Sector 2814 was just a primitive mudball, a backwater planet full of apes with zero real power and zero cosmic significance.
So where the hell did this guy even come from?
A cocky smirk pulled at the corner of Hal's bruised mouth. His flight aura flared to life, kicking up dust off the cracked concrete.
He wanted to blast straight to Oa, march into the Citadel, look up at those smug, immortal control freaks on their pedestals, and tell them about the guy from the "dirt planet" who'd just offered to make them do pavement crunches.
He couldn't wait to see them sweat.
***
The bullpen of the Daily Planet was a war zone of ringing phones and shouting, but Clark Kent slumped back in his rolling chair and let out a long breath.
"Well," he sighed, pulling off his glasses to rub his eyes. "The worst-case scenario was avoided."
Lois leaned against his desk, not looking up from her screen, tapping her temple with her pen. "You're right about one thing, Clark. Your friend is completely crazy up here."
He put his glasses back on with a tired smile. "When did I ever say he was sane? He's always like that."
Lois stopped typing, unlocked her phone, and slid it across the desk — a chaotic blur of notifications, every trending topic on the planet some variation of terror, outrage, or a death threat aimed at Daniel.
"Maybe," she said, crossing her arms. "But this definitely tanked his PR. Right now he's officially the most hated person on social media."
Clark barely glanced at the screen, looking out the window instead. "Lois, I really don't think he cares about any of that."
***
Daniel turned the handle of his front door as quietly as he could and stepped into the hallway — then froze at the sound of voices from the kitchen.
"Why can he do terrorist attacks all over the country, and I still have to go to school?" Rachel complained.
Caitlin didn't look up from her coffee.
"Because if you don't study, you'll become an idiot like him. Look at how stupid his execution was today. He should've just gone straight into the White House and kicked the President in the head instead of doing all that theatrical nonsense."
Daniel's hand froze on the doorknob. He started pulling the door shut again. He was not getting involved in this conversation.
Before the latch clicked, a hand clamped onto his collar and yanked him backward into the hallway.
Mera stood there, glaring. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"Nothing," Daniel said, trying to pry her fingers off his coat. "I just remembered another important thing I have to—"
"Daniel, tell this wench I'm not going to school," Rachel interrupted, walking into the hallway.
She stopped, glaring at Mera's grip on his collar, then looked back at him. "Who the hell is this even? Don't you have anything else to do besides collecting women like Pokémon? I leave for one day, and another one just spawns here. Is this a house or a women's boarding house?"
"Language, Rachel," Daniel warned.
"Fuck that," Rachel shot back.
He finally pried Mera's fingers off his coat, smoothing down the fabric. "Don't you like school?" Teenagers really just said whatever was on their minds. And he was definitely not a Pokémon master.
"No," Rachel deadpanned. "It's full of idiots."
He opened his mouth to tell her that dealing with idiots was a basic life skill, but never got the words out. Mera yanked his coat again, spinning him back toward the front door.
"Atlantis has a problem," she said, tone leaving no room for debate. "You are coming with me."
He stumbled, catching his balance. "Wait, I just got back, I haven't even—"
"I already told others you were leaving," Mera interrupted, dragging him over the threshold.
Rachel rolled her eyes, muttered something about being left in the madhouse, and walked back to the kitchen.
As the front door slammed shut behind them, a faint smirk touched Mera's lips. The crisis in the ocean was real, but that wasn't the point. She'd successfully extracted him from the overcrowded house.
Finally, she had him to herself.
*****
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