18 March 1950
Gotham, 08.20 P.M.
The Bat-Man - a figure born of urban legend, now confirmed as reality. Only a few dozen dark, blurry photographs of him circulated around the world. Though his first appearance was in 1939, it wasn't until 1942 that his existence was officially verified as fact. A nameless, masked vigilante. Treated alternately as a criminal and a hero by the press and the authorities. Protected by the police, much to the frustration of the district attorney. Few citizens knew that Batman had thwarted a dangerous alliance between Nazi saboteurs and the Joker in 1942, or that he had prevented Ra's al Ghul and his League of Assassins from unleashing chemical bombs designed to suffocate the city. Bane, the Penguin, the Scarecrow, the Riddler… Villains, mobsters and lunatics of all kinds paraded through the Bat's memory. Alongside them stood Catwoman and Robin.
The war ended, the atomic bombs were dropped and then came the red-caped wonder-woman, first his captor, then his ally and friend. The threats only grew more dangerous, the stakes higher. Batman sighed. He stood on a rooftop near Gotham's new financial district as a light drizzle fell. Across the bay, the lights of Boston flickered in the distance. Gotham clung to the shoreline like an outstretched arm closing off Boston Bay. Twin cities, rivals in some ways, but essentially one. Two great ports. Boston, capital of Massachusetts, quiet and sprawling along the bay with its four million inhabitants and few towering skyscrapers. It required little of his attention. Gotham, another four million people, crammed into a narrow, skyscraper-strewn strip of land - once ravaged by crime and still corrupt.
Behind him, Batman heard a sound he knew only too well, like a sudden gust of wind or the rustle of a curtain. It was her.
"Superwoman! I've been trying to reach you..." he began, not turning to face her.
"Bruce..." Her voice sounded broken.
Batman turned to see Superwoman hovering before him, the wind tugging at her red cape. The Woman of Tomorrow looked tired, desperate, her eyes closed as if she were struggling to speak. A fine rain fell around her.
"Bruce..." she repeated.
"What is it, Clara?" Batman asked, a note of concern in his voice.
The Woman of Steel landed gently and took his hand.
"I don't know where to begin..."
"Clara, I've been trying to reach you all day. I need to tell you something important. What's going on? Are you okay?" Bruce could tell that despite no visible injuries and her seemingly intact supersuit, she was anything but fine.
"Bruce... Someone tried to kill me today. She... she shot me... with some kind of kryptonite gun... energy beams. I managed to fly into the sunlight and recover a little... but my apprentice from the paper, she's badly hurt, badly hurt... and..." Superwoman's voice trailed off, broken.
"Who did this? What happened?" Batman's mind raced.
"Alina Baristova... a journalist from my paper... She was... apparently a Soviet agent. A man stopped her from killing me and killed her."
"The Russians? Was it the Russians?"
"Bruce, listen... The man who rescued me also claims to be Russian. This is crucial - he says their government is divided. There's an alien entity in Siberia... the one responsible for the craters and the disappearances of a few months ago. Part of the Soviet government is negotiating with it, while another faction opposes it. Some sent Alina to kill me, while others sent the man who saved me. I must go there, Bruce - I must confront this entity and expel it."
Batman was baffled. Suddenly, an unexpected and formidable danger loomed over them. The alien entity that had attacked Earth months ago, disguised by governments as a mere gas comet shower, was finally revealed. And now the Soviets were involved.
"Clara... We need to organize and..."
Superwoman cut him off with a silent shake of her head, "I am the only one who can handle this, Bruce. It makes no sense for you, Flash... or the Atlantean to get involved. But I need to talk to all of you as soon as possible. I need you to help me interrogate the Russian agent... He seems sincere. I need your advice. But it has to be tonight, we can't wait. I must get back to Metropolis. My secret identity may be in jeopardy... I need my friends' help. And I'm bringing the Russian with me. He says his name is Viktor."
Batman struggled to keep his composure.
"Two hours, in the Batcave?"
Superwoman nodded, then vanished into the night sky in the blink of an eye.
Metropolis
9:15 PM
Clara was too battered and exhausted to stand. She felt cold - an unusual sensation for her. She pulled her coat closer. She sat in the waiting room of the hospital. A crowd of people had gathered across from her. Roberta Lee's parents were there. The mother sat erect, staring off into the distance with cold detachment, holding the hand of Roberta's older brother, who looked devastated. The father came and went, unable to contain himself, talking over and over to the doctors-he was a surgeon himself. Others were there too, mostly Chinese, but also city officials and colleagues of Roberta's father. Clara couldn't bring herself to tell them the truth. It would put Roberta's life in even greater danger. Revealing what had really happened would destroy her secret identity, and a government scientific team might take Roberta away to God knows where. The fallout from such a revelation would ruin many lives, including Louis'. Clara was nervous and heartbroken. She had to leave soon to interrogate the Soviet agent and then fly to confront the threat in Siberia. She calmed herself with a silent prayer. With her x-ray vision, she could see Roberta in her hospital room. The girl appeared to be asleep, breathing, with signs of brain activity.
Just minutes earlier, Clara had been in the Fortress of Solitude, handing Kelex the weapon that had been used to shoot her and Roberta. She had begged her robot assistant to analyze the weapon's effects on humans. Kelex was her only hope. There was a Kryptonian medical unit still operational in the Fortress, but it hadn't been used in thousands of years. Neither of them really knew how to activate it. Maybe she should have taken Roberta directly to the Fortress, but that might have put her in even more danger. The girl was seriously injured because of her. Alina... Clara still hadn't fully processed the fact that Alina had tried to kill her and was a spy. Everything around her felt like it was spinning.
With her super-hearing, Clara picked up fragments of a conversation between a doctor and Roberta's father. "She seems to have received a moderate electrocution. There are no burns, which is almost unbelievable. Some materials that conduct electricity can prevent burns, but she seems to be intoxicated. Maybe she was near some kind of gas explosion that included an electrical discharge. Or maybe Superwoman shielded her from a strange explosion, but your daughter was still affected by some kind of shock wave. It's not clear. There doesn't seem to be any organic damage, but it's too early to tell if there will be brain damage… or if she'll regain consciousness. We don't know where she was found or the exact circumstances. Superwoman brought her here and then left."
Roberta's father walked past Clara; his eyes filled with deep sadness, "Miss Kent, do you have any idea where Roberta went after she left the newspaper?" he asked quietly, but with a hint of harshness.
"No, I told her to go to the movies with her friends. I left before she did." Clara lied painfully, her glasses fogged and smeared with tears.
Roberta's father nodded, seeming to accept the lie, "That girl... She was always so excitable, full of wild ideas. She probably wanted to investigate something. She's just a child. Go home, Miss Kent. Don't worry, I'll stay here all night. My wife and son will be leaving soon. Please think about where Roberta might have gone after the paper. It might help."
Clara nodded and left without saying goodbye. She wondered if she should take Roberta out of the hospital and take her to the Fortress of Solitude. But would that be reckless? How could she take her away from her parents? And when Roberta woke up, what would she say? Clara had to fly home, pick up the man who called himself Viktor, and get to the Batcave.
In the hospital lobby, a police officer she had spoken to earlier was waiting. The hospital had called him as soon as Superwoman had dropped Roberta off. The detective approached her, notebook in hand.
"Miss, what time did you say you left the newspaper building?"
"Five-thirty," Clara replied curtly.
"Alone or with someone?"
"Alone. I went straight home. I came here as soon as I heard Roberta had had an accident."
"The Chinese girl, right?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but there's been another tragedy at your office. I just got a call. It seems there's been a suicide at the World Magazine."
Clara slowly raised her right hand to her eyes, stunned. The gesture wasn't fake.
"Do you know the name? Man or woman?" Clara asked, already knowing the answer.
"A woman... Alina Beristoff or something like that. I was just informed. A French citizen, I think. Did you know her?"
"Yes, I knew her."
The detective patted her shoulder sympathetically, "I'm really sorry... Apparently there's a suicide note. But my colleagues will want statements from everyone in the newspaper and the magazine."
Clara gave him her address and telephone number. The detective seemed sympathetic. For some reason, she thought about Louis. She wanted to fly to him, to tell him everything - about Roberta, about Alina, about what happened in Siberia - but she had no time. She left quickly and, behind some trash cans, tore off her clothes in rage, unfurling her red cape as she took to the skies again, despite the pain, the cold, and the exhaustion.
Batcave
10:00 PM
Melkov surveyed his surroundings with a serious expression and a hint of discouragement. He stood in what appeared to be an underground glass-walled office, modern and overlooking a dimly lit cavern. Two military-grade computers stood nearby; he recognized the design—Mark models. The USSR had struggled to replicate them, though they had surpassed the Americans in a number of areas. He leaned against a table. They had just arrived, flying in from Metropolis. Superwoman had dropped him off at her apartment after he explained the situation while she took the injured girl to the hospital. He spent more than an hour waiting while the Kryptonian went off to do who knows what. Melkov had glanced around her apartment with a mixture of curiosity and restraint. It was the home of a seemingly normal woman - modest, perhaps even sentimental. He had the feeling that Clara Kent was far more Clara than Superwoman. And yet she was the most powerful being in the known universe. More powerful than that Brainiac in Siberia? He could only hope. Melkov had found a thick folder of children's drawings in Clara's apartment. Almost all of them depicted Superwoman in various ways, though sometimes they showed only children, spaceships, or incomprehensible images. Each drawing had a date and place written on the back: they came from all over the world, from Metropolis to China, through the Middle East, Africa, and every country in Europe. Gifts from children to Superwoman. Yes, sometimes things were exactly as they seemed. She picked him up again and, without much conversation, had flown him at super speed to this place.
Melkov found himself face to face with Batman - a billionaire dressed as a bat, armed with all the sophisticated technology his fortune could buy. A man haunted by trauma, with incredible acrobatic and combat skills... Learned from where, exactly? Thanks to Luthor, Melkov had developed a profile on him. Batman wasn't a total threat. Then there was the Scarlet Speedster, known to Americans as the Flash, who wore a strange red suit. His powers frightened Melkov more than Superwoman's, though they were less formidable. Flash was just too fast - faster than Mrs. Kent. Some basic physics calculations had left him deeply unsettled. He had recommended that the Special Scientific Team take a closer look at Flash, but they were fixated only on the Kryptonian.
Superwoman, wrapped in her red cape, seemed more composed and looked at him with a certain kindness, though her stance was firm, arms crossed. Melkov had never understood the costumes. Maybe in the case of the Kryptonian it made sense - her suit was from her home planet. But with the others, it seemed grotesque. There was also an older, elegant man with white hair and a thin mustache, typing on a machine and making notes with a pencil. He seemed to be working with the Bat. And then there was the woman - no one seemed to know her except Batman. Her presence was unsettling. Batman had to convince Superwoman that she was a friend and ally. The woman spoke with a Slavic accent, and from her features she could be of Balkan origin, though she could also be Roma, Jewish, or Turkish. She wore a long dark coat and kept a wary distance from the others. Did she have superpowers, too?
"Could you repeat that?" Batman's voice was authoritative.
"I have no problem, Mr. Wayne... Allow me to call you by your real name; we know it on the other side, but we have no intention of causing you any trouble. Mr. Luthor revealed it. As I've just told you, and as I told Mrs. Kent earlier... I believe all of humanity is in danger."
"How is it possible that your government is working with this entity?" Flash asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I wonder the same thing. It is the source of a deep internal crisis that will erupt violently at any moment. That's why I'm here. The creature has destroyed any Soviet air squadron that has gotten too close to the site. It was discovered long after the infamous... craters."
"And it communicated with you politely, giving you a name and asking to negotiate?" Flash pressed, skepticism evident in his voice.
"Exactly. Just like the Kryptonians in '46. It used an anglicized name - a rather ridiculous one - Brainiac, it called itself. Probably some kind of translation. It didn't tell us where it was from, just introduced itself as a visitor. It claimed responsibility for the disappearance of places and people. It said it was a scholar of worlds and intended to leave when its studies were complete. It expressed a willingness to exchange information and technology as long as we left it alone for a while. It promised that it had no offensive intentions toward us... and warned us about the Kryptonian. It assured us that the invasion of 1946 was a hoax and that the Kryptonian, Mrs. Kent, was preparing to take control of all of Earth. It offered to help us eliminate her."
"Were you part of these discussions? What did you think?" Superwoman asked calmly.
"No, I wasn't there. Others were. My superiors were deeply involved. It seemed ridiculous and counterproductive. It reminded me of my government's negotiations with the Nazis between 1939 and 1941. I think we've taken the bait again."
"Why did you stop them from killing me?" Superwoman asked, her voice tinged with sadness but with a hint of sympathy as she nodded for Melkov to continue.
"The negotiations have divided my government," Melkov began. "Some are afraid of the Americans and of your abilities, Mrs. Kent. There are generals and admirals who talk about launching a nuclear strike against the United States every time Superwoman saves some children from a stove fire in Kamchatka." He turned to face the others. "From the moment Mrs. Kent revealed her... shall we say, wonders to the world, my government - myself included - has been working to eliminate her. Luthor helped us. I'm not trying to win your sympathy, but Luthor broke with us when I refused to authorize his plan to kill Mrs. Kent, and he unilaterally unleashed that monstrous thing a year ago. Understand this: If Mrs. Kent were Russian, the situation would be exactly the same, only reversed. You know even her own government is working on technology to suppress or control her." Melkov looked back at Superwoman, who listened with composure.
"You still haven't answered - why are you here? Why admit that you were working against us... against her... and then save her life?" Batman pressed; his voice intense.
"Isn't it obvious, Mr. Wayne? Stalin and half the government are so desperate to win our little growing Cold War and eliminate the Kryptonian that they've begun negotiating with another extraordinarily dangerous alien entity. To others in the government, including my superiors and myself, it's a suicidal move. We believe that this entity has clear offensive intentions, that it is playing a 'divide and conquer' game, and that it wanted us to remove Mrs. Kent because it doesn't have the strength or technology to do it itself."
"How do I know this isn't a trap?" Superwoman asked, her voice calm but cautious.
"Because the gun Alina used to shoot you - with two or three more shots, it would have killed you. If I wanted you dead, I would have let Alina finish the job. She was my best agent. And I killed her with my own hands. Right now, I'm a fugitive in the USSR. They're executing all my collaborators. I'm burned. My superiors are dismantling my organization to cover themselves while I come here to ask for your help. Meanwhile, the other faction is in constant communication with the creature."
"Maybe you don't want to kill her. Maybe you want to capture Superwoman," Flash said suspiciously.
Melkov sighed. "Yes, that could be. But you... especially Mrs. Kent... will have to take a leap of faith. I've taken mine. I saved the life of someone my government considers the greatest threat to humanity - because I believe she's not a threat at all, but a guarantee of peace and a future for all. And because she can help us fight this thing. So far, Mrs. Kent has done nothing to harm us, while the creature in Siberia has taken thousands of lives for reasons we still don't understand."
Superwoman nodded as if the explanation was enough for her. The others looked at Melkov with hostility and suspicion. But Melkov remained calm; he had gotten as far as he wanted, and it seemed that the Kryptonian understood and trusted him.
"What do you know of this creature? And why shouldn't we report this to our government immediately?" Batman interjected again.
Melkov shrugged. "If you inform your government, you'll either start a nuclear war or, if you're lucky, a civil war in my country. Your government's response will be to launch a nuclear bombardment against the creature, and after that, my country's military will split - some will retaliate with a counterattack, while others will try to stop it. Our ballistic missiles are better than yours. But I doubt that thing couldn't repel a nuclear attack, so it would be useless anyway. As for Mrs. Kent, I suppose she could destroy most of the bombs and missiles, but things would get terribly complicated for years, in case this Brainiac doesn't destroy all of us. It's an irresponsible option, with millions of possible deaths, if you'll excuse my bluntness."
"You want Superwoman to handle it," Batman said sternly, looking over at Superwoman, who nodded stoically.
"She's the only one who can. She's the only one who can save us from this creature without starting a world war," Melkov replied with a shrug. Then he took a pen from his pocket. "Here's all the information I've been able to gather on the creature."
***
An hour and a half later, Melkov was helping Batman identify the location of the creature's ship on a map, under the watchful eye of Superwoman, who was holding some newly developed aerial photographs. The images showed a vast, dark, circular plain dominated by a strange metallic sphere with thousands of protrusions and tentacles.
"It's protected by some kind of force field that incinerates anything approaching except at an altitude of twelve or fifteen thousand feet. We know that a swarm of small craft or robots - manned or not, we don't know - leave the perimeter daily and return to the central ship after a few hours. We assume they're for surveillance, since there have been no reported attacks since the mass disappearances."
Superwoman remembered the fake dinosaur and the android that emerged from it - the one she fought, which wounded her. Undoubtedly one of Brainiac's minions. The official story was that the dinosaur was some kind of robotic balloon created by Toyman. The lie had deeply offended Superwoman, and almost no one believed it. Just as the public didn't believe that the disappearance of entire fields and villages around the world was caused by gas comets. But that didn't matter now.
Batman turned to the woman in the dark coat standing beside him. He waved a photograph of Brainiac's ship.
"Miss Kzatara, does this resemble the creatures you've been tracking?"
"No, nothing like it. The creatures I told you about don't travel in spaceships or have military conquest in mind. It's something more complex - I tried to explain it to you, and you didn't want to believe me. Right now, they're not an immediate threat. Eventually, I'll need your help... But not now," the woman replied coldly.
Melkov didn't understand what they were talking about - more aliens? He had the distinct feeling that this woman was talking about something supernatural. Superwoman looked at her with concern. She knew her only as Zatanna, introduced by Bruce as "a friend who can be of great help". Bruce had mentioned her before; he had been looking for her. Zatanna was hunting a group of cultists who believed in evil creatures, similar to Dr. Quinzel... Would they have to face this threat as well?
Zatanna seemed to sense Superwoman's distress and took her hand gently.
"Don't worry. Right now, the creature in Siberia is all that matters. You don't know me, but I know you - very well. You have a pure soul and a capacity for sacrifice that would humble any human. I'm ready to help you with anything you ask. We'll deal with other dangers later, if God permits, but I bring you no immediate threat."
Clara was moved by Zatanna's words and gave her a small, grateful smile. Meanwhile, Batman and Alfred were making calculations in a notebook.
"With the X-99 prototype, we could be there in 48 hours. Wayne Industries only has four of them. We could discreetly access one that's under military protection about twenty miles from here, though it's currently under repair. Clara could bring us the plane to a nearby plain. It seats seven people. We'd need fuel and provisions. By flying low, we could make stops in a desolate area of Canada and then Siberia, avoiding radar detection. We could be near the force field in two days," Batman said confidently.
"You know I can run across water," Flash interjected. "I can be in Siberia in minutes, maybe an hour with a stop, and help Clara with whatever she needs."
"We have to contact Arturo Curry. This won't happen in water, but we'll need his help," Batman continued.
Superwoman bit her lip and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she grabbed the map.
"None of you will go there. You don't know what's there, how to bypass the force field, or how to deal with the ship's defenses, let alone how to get inside. I'm going alone. Right now. Right now." Clara felt a wave of modesty and hesitation at what she was about to say, but she spoke with calm determination. "I'm the only one with the ability and the skills to get there and get inside. I'll do the initial reconnaissance and try to understand the power of this thing. I've already destroyed Zod and his fleet. I know it's dangerous, but I'm willing. It makes no sense for you to take a long, grueling plane ride just to stand in the cold... waiting for what? I'll go alone."
"Clara, we all have skills that could be useful to you. You can't do this alone," Flash said as he stepped closer, his voice serious. Superwoman responded by touching him gently, caressing his cheek.
Zatanna added, her voice firm, the edge of her accent cutting through the tension. "You don't understand my... abilities. But I'm willing to offer them to you,"
But the Maid of Might shook her head, resolute.
"If I need you, I'll come for you," she said. Her tone was firm but final. "But for now, I need you to stay here, to help as you've been doing, to keep things from spiraling into chaos. I'll go alone. There's no point in you risking your lives for this. Give me 48 hours. If I can't do it alone, I'll come back for you. But what I need now is to get there as fast as I can, get on that ship alone, and see what's inside. It could mean certain death for you. I'm asking for 48 hours. If I don't come back, tell the government everything. The plane thing is too risky. You could be shot down at any moment-by the Russians or by our own forces."
Melkov looked at the unusual group gathered around him, each face reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. He nodded slowly, his voice low but firm. "Mrs. Kent is right. You'd be sacrificing your lives for nothing. And if she doesn't succeed..."
"If she doesn't succeed, it won't matter because there won't be a tomorrow for anyone," Batman cut in sharply.
"Is there any way you could help us from inside the USSR?" Superwoman asked, turning to Melkov. "If I take you back, could you reconnect with your government or the faction you represent to prevent further damage for these 48 hours?"
The spy suddenly felt dwarfed by her presence. The distraught, wounded woman who had stood before him hours before had now regained her composure. She spoke with quiet, unyielding authority, with her red cape billowing behind her like a banner of resolve. The hesitant Clara Kent was gone, replaced by a figure that seemed more divine than mortal, a goddess preparing to save the world or perish in the attempt.
"It's possible," Melkov replied. His voice was weighted with grim uncertainty. "They could also execute me. Right now, I trust only two men-Beria and Khrushchev, both from the Council of Ministers. They gave me this mission. They will hear me out, but I don't know if they can protect me. I don't know if they have a plan to counter Stalin's faction. Their only hope is that I can convince you to help all of us."
"If I don't return in 48 hours," Clara asked gently, trying to put some hope in her voice, "Would you be able to tell the U.S. government everything you've told us? Could you explain the risks we all face?"
Melkov remained silent, unable to answer.
Clara looked around at the faces around her. She couldn't let them endanger themselves for her cause.
"Give me 48 hours," she pleaded softly. "I beg you."
There was a moment of hesitation in the room, the air thick with uncertainty. But gradually they began to nod. Bruce's gaze, fierce and unflinching, softened with understanding.
"Forty-eight hours," he finally agreed. "If we don't hear from you, we'll go there ourselves and inform the U.S. government. We'll work with Mr. Viktor on a contingency plan."
Melkov nodded slightly, acknowledging the unspoken trust. He had given them his real name, Viktor. He hadn't used it for many years.
Clara smiled, a brief flicker of gratitude crossing her face. Then, with a quick turn, she shook her cape and disappeared into the night at super speed.
***
Superwoman flew eastward in the darkness, high above the stratosphere, speeding across the outlines of seas and continents. She sharpened her hearing, ready to descend without hesitation if anyone needed her help along the way. Her heart was pounding, but she was determined to do her duty. She trusted her superpowers. If that thing could have killed her, it would have tried by now. She had defeated the android that had emerged from the fake dinosaur with relative ease, and she had only been wounded because the robot had taken her by surprise - just like Alina. This time she would be fully prepared, her senses and mind focused on destroying the creature. She would infiltrate the ship, devote herself to destroying it and any other beings inside, and then hurl the remains into the sun. The Woman of Steel took a deep breath and accelerated, but for a few moments she slowed down and let herself drift. She was getting closer, and even though there was no wind at that altitude, she wanted to feel like she was floating.
After leaving the Batcave, she had flown to Metropolis Hospital, where she found Roberta still unconscious, her father by her side. The Woman of Tomorrow then returned briefly to her home, where she wrote two letters in a matter of seconds. One letter was to her mother: warm, loving, and calm, explaining that she was likely to be gone for a few days on a mission, and asking her to remain at ease. The second letter was to Louis: honest, brief, direct, and firm. In it, she confessed what had happened to Roberta and Alina, explained why she was going to Siberia, and once again declared her love for him. It was simple and unemotional, as if she were reporting the temperature of a place. She wanted to write more, but there was no time. She even noted this lack of time in the letter. She left the two letters by her mother's and Louis' beds, choosing not to wake them. Afterwards, she flew to the Fortress of Solitude, where Kelex confirmed that there was still no news about the effects of the weapon used against them or a possible cure for Roberta. Refusing to let this discourage her, she launched herself back into the starry sky.
Now Superwoman was over the approximate location, deep in the heart of Siberia. She descended vertically. Here and there, forests and meadows in shades of green and brown stretched out below her, the scent of thawing earth rising to meet her. With her super-hearing, she picked up strange metallic vibrations and chimes. She flew toward the source of the sounds. Soon, in the distance, she saw what appeared to be a scorched crater, and in the darkness, a massive round metallic structure-almost the size of a mountain-emerged, surrounded by strange beams of light.
***
Superwoman detected the presence of Soviet military units. With her telescopic vision, she observed tents, tanks, searchlights, and even an improvised airstrip. Four encampments encircled the crater, which was shrouded by a strange dome that glimmered faintly in the night. The Maid of Might soared into the sky, rising above the clouds, careful to remain unseen, though she suspected they had already detected her with some form of radar. Batman and the others had been wise not to accompany her—an encounter with the Soviet forces would have been inevitable. She flew toward the light dome and levitated upon what seemed to be its highest point. Heat, vibrations, and a low buzz radiated from the surface beneath her. The ship loomed like a colossal, shadowy monster, bristling with countless protrusions— a vast, flattened sphere. Through her telescopic gaze, she could see hundreds of glowing entrances, vents exuding heat, and hatches of various sizes. Orbiting the ship were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of smaller vessels.
Drawing closer, the Woman of Steel approached the edge of the force field, nearly close enough to penetrate it, enabling her to engage her X-ray vision. The ship's scale was overwhelming. Inside, she discerned an array of unfamiliar machinery, as well as missiles, some of them as large as ships. She saw liquid-filled tanks, some containing bizarre specimens—beings she couldn't even begin to comprehend. In others, thousands of glowing orbs floated, suspended by strange filaments, resembling glowing bottles. But what dominated her vision were the legions of humanoid androids—thousands upon thousands of them, all eerily similar to the one that had battled her, after emerging from the shell of a false dinosaur. They moved with mechanical precision, poring over indistinct holograms, tirelessly fabricating more of their kind. There was no sign of a living creature anywhere. Superwoman heard a cacophony of sounds and transmissions, but none of it resembled a language. Instead, it was a cascade of frequencies, almost musical, yet grotesque in its dissonance.
Superwoman sighed, "Let's go, Clara!" She slammed her fist into the strange dome of light with all her might, but she couldn't break through. It was as if a powerful vibration and heat were preventing her from moving forward, as if she were being repelled by the irresistible force of a magnet. Strange pink beams of light surrounded her, emanating from the dome's luminous, translucent surface. The Woman of Steel knew that its temperature was tens of thousands of degrees, enough to incinerate any man-made object, but she was invulnerable to those rays. She decided to fly upwards at super speed, rising vertically for hundreds of miles, almost to the edge of the atmosphere. She paused for a few seconds, closed her eyes, and then dove back down, plummeting at thousands of miles per hour. Opening her eyes, she unleashed her heat vision, becoming a blazing, fiery beam. This time, she felt herself break through the force field as if it were nothing more than turbulence, unleashing a storm of lightning around her. She had only a few seconds to decide whether to slow down or use her momentum to crash through Brainiac's ship. She remembered Zod's ships, nearly indestructible even to her super strength. But Superwoman chose to push forward, trusting her intuition that this ship was weaker.
Thick slabs of alien metals, cables, organic elements, unknown gases and liquids exploded or melted and twisted around the superheroine as she tore through the ship's hull, which was hundreds of feet thick. She didn't want to stop, didn't want to slow down - she wanted to tear through the ship from end to end, just as she had done with Zod and Faora's planetary machine. She roared through corridors and conduits, leaving a fleeting trail of molten metal debris in her wake, until something hit her. She collided with something hard, a searing pain hitting her head and face. Superwoman rebounded, her senses reeling, and for a moment she thought she might have broken her nose. She found herself tumbling through a strange metallic tunnel filled with a pinkish liquid, bubbly and salty. Letting the current carry her, she tried to recover. The walls of the tunnel seemed damaged, probably by the Maid of Might's incursion, and the liquid spilled out through massive cracks. Through one of those cracks, she fell into a bizarre triangular passage that quickly flooded. A torrent of the strange liquid poured down from an opening in the ceiling. Despite the pain, Superwoman confirmed that she could still levitate. The walls of the hallway resembled a honeycomb, and the material seemed more like stone than metal. She struck it with her super strength, denting it but not breaking it. Multicolored lights filtered through strange openings, and dissonant, alien music blared at full volume. She realized that she must have hit something made of an extraordinarily strong material, perhaps even too strong for her super-strength.
Superwoman leaned against the wall, struggling to catch her breath. The atmosphere was thick, almost toxic, so she chose to hold her breath - something she could do for days if necessary. A confusing jumble of strange sounds surrounded her, and suddenly a swarm of androids materialized out of nowhere and surrounded the mighty Kryptonian. These were not humanoid machines; they resembled wingless metallic wasps, bristling with tentacles. They had no faces, but at the center of their metallic torsos, three glowing circles formed a triangle, flashing pink and green. In an instant, the creatures lashed out with their tentacles. Superwoman saw that each one ended in a serrated metal stinger. She began to spin, moving at super speed, her eyes blazing with laser beams as she transformed into a flaming whirlwind. The androids and their tentacles shattered or melted, but the metal walls around her remained intact. She soared down the corridor, searching for any weak spot where her x-ray vision or super strength might allow her to break through to the other side. But she found nothing; the corridor seemed endless, and fatigue crept in.
Within minutes, Superwoman seemed to reach the end of the corridor. It narrowed into a funnel made of strange, repulsive material. With her x-ray vision, she could see a large chamber on the other side, filled with metal columns and greenish warheads. Whatever it was, she intended to destroy it. Pink liquid seeped through the funnel and began to flood the chamber beyond. Superwoman fired her heat vision, melting the funnel with a sickening hiss, then passed through and floated down to the center of the chamber. The room rose three or four hundred feet into the air, with seven metal columns extending to the ceiling, arranged in a triangular formation. The walls and columns were covered with green and orange spheres and warheads. At first, the Maid of Might assumed they were fuel tanks or bombs, but as she drew closer, a jolt of horror struck her heart. They were sarcophagi of various shapes and sizes, each containing a different creature. She had glimpsed something like this before with her telescopic vision as she scanned the ship from the air.
The Woman of Steel examined hundreds of strange sarcophagi. Some creatures were indescribable, others barely seemed to have a physical form; there were lizards, anthropomorphic cats, humanoids, gray-skinned dwarves with large eyes, winged octopi... and humans - or beings that looked like humans, some almost identical, others strange, a mixture of beauty and deformity. Could they be Kryptonians? Were there other humans scattered throughout the galaxy? Or perhaps creatures from Earth's distant past? Each creature was tangled in a web of cables and tentacles, but appeared to be alive, simply sleeping.
Superwoman flew to the center of the vast chamber and sighed. Were these creatures prisoners? Carefully preserved specimens of life forms from countless planets, collected by this sinister "Scholar of Worlds," as the Soviet spy had described him? And what about the hundreds of thousands of people who had vanished along with their homes all over the world? Could they still be alive, trapped somewhere on the ship? And Kandor-the legendary lost city of her ancestors-could it be hidden there, too?
No, she couldn't destroy the ship... but what could she do? Destroying it would mean killing these cosmic prisoners, beings torn from their homes eons ago. But what to do with the ship and its prisoners? Who commanded the ship? Where was the android leader, if there was one? Were the androids simply following orders from some central computer? A storm of ideas and fears swirled inside her, making her feel small and insecure. She struggled to reconcile everything Kelex had taught her about Kryptonian technology with what she was witnessing.
Then, out of nowhere, a powerful blow struck her, knocking her to the ground. It was a solid, brutal blow. Superwoman was thrown to the chamber floor, bouncing back with a dazed vision as darkness crept in around her. This time, the blow had hurt. She managed to get to her feet, but a second blow knocked her down again, crushing her to the metallic floor. She was surrounded. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of humanoid androids closed in - creatures eerily similar to the one that had emerged from the dinosaur in Metropolis. They were skeletal, forged of a sinister black metal, with either three or six glowing eyes, and each one bristled with thick, twisting tentacles. The Woman of Steel dodged their blows, her eyes blazing with heat vision as she targeted the androids. The metal was tough, but she could still burn through it and melt her enemies. She hurled herself at them at super speed, hitting each android hundreds of times per second. She destroyed many of them, but it took several seconds to neutralize each one. For every tentacle she ripped off, for every android she decapitated, two or three more would surge forward, their tentacles wrapping around her, trying to pin her down. No matter how fast she moved, no matter how hard she struck, no matter how fiercely her heat vision sliced through the evil throng, she found herself buried under a mass of writhing metal tentacles. The Woman of Tomorrow fought with raw fury, smashing and annihilating her attackers, but then she felt sharp stings along her back and neck. Darkness closed in completely.
***
Superwoman drifted into a strange dream. In it, she felt disconnected from herself, as if Kala-El, Clara Kent, and Superwoman were three completely different women. She wasn't sure who she really was. A dull, painful pressure massaged her head, and it felt like someone was dragging her through smoke and light. Amidst the chaos, flashes of her life played before her - some glorious, some cherished, some dark, and a few filled her with embarrassment. She had the unsettling feeling that someone was watching these images with her, someone who shouldn't be. She desperately tried to cover them up, to make them disappear.
A six-year-old Clara, sick in bed, struggling to breathe while her parents read her stories. A teenage Clara, an exceptional swimmer. Awkward kisses with Pete Ross in an abandoned cabin. Clara Kent stopping a train derailment near Topeka. Her father's funeral. The muddy, fiery chaos of war between Pacific islands, the backbreaking effort to keep the USS Shuster afloat. The first time she wore the suit, looking at her long red cape with confusion and pride. Her first flight. Her father's letter. Typing furiously at the Daily Planet. Using her x-ray vision to sneak a playful glance at Louis, only to regret it immediately with a combination of desire and guilt. Picking up Metallo's body. Sending Zod to the Phantom Zone. Rescuing children caught in the crossfire near Jordan. Opening her reporter blouses hundreds, thousands of times, revealing the House of El crest underneath. Flying at super speed, able to hear thousands of voices. Throwing Doomsday's lifeless body into a volcano. Making love to Louis behind a desk in their shared office, fighting to control her strength, biting back a scream just days before he discovered that Clara Kent and Superwoman were one and the same. Afternoons with Roberta. Mornings filled with laughter at silly photos Jimmy and Lucy had taken the night before. Fighting side by side with Batman and Flash. She felt hurt, humiliated. It was as if all those moments - those memories - were being ripped away from her.
Superwoman awoke with a scream of pain. As she screamed, her mouth filled with a thick, salty-acidic liquid. She struggled and found that four metallic tentacles held her arms and legs, with a fifth wrapped tightly around her waist. She couldn't move. Suspended in a translucent turquoise liquid in a tank, she fired her heat vision at the walls - maybe glass, maybe something stronger - or at the tentacles themselves, but it was no use; nothing gave. She struck, pushing with all her might, only to feel herself growing weaker and sorer with every effort. Exhausted, she paused for a few moments before trying again, but each attempt met with the same failure. With her x-ray vision, she could see that she was still in the center of the chamber where she'd fought the androids, positioned right between the columns. There seemed to be no androids nearby. A strange pain throbbed at the back of her neck.
"Calm yourself, Miss El... or whatever your name is."
The voice was both commanding and mocking, and it echoed in her mind. But she could see two blurry figures approaching the tank. To her surprise, one appeared to be human - a blond man with glasses, dressed in a Soviet uniform, puffing on a cigarette that strangely didn't burn out. With her x-ray vision, she realized he wasn't a real person; nothing inside him was alive. His insides were a dead, synthetic replica of a human body, and strange metal plates were embedded in his head. Even the cigarette was fake, made of some synthetic material.
The other figure was bigger. A bald humanoid with pitch-black eyes and dilated pupils, his face resembled that of a human, but with greenish skin and harsh, angular features, including deep-set eye sockets. He wore thick, black armor of overlapping plates, and three crystalline spheres formed a triangle on his chest, radiating an aura of strength and youth. Using her x-ray vision, Superwoman saw that while his body appeared to be biologically functional, it contained electronic components. Could he be the "leader" of the androids? Though she couldn't scream in that strange liquid, she poured every ounce of her anger into the most intense heat rays she could muster, hurling them from her eyes at the figures. But they couldn't pierce the glass.
"Stop trying, Ms. El. This is the strongest containment unit we have. It hasn't been used for fifteen thousand years, but it seems to hold you well for now. We're pleased. We've never had such a unique guest before." The creature posing as a Soviet officer spoke in impeccable English, with hints of Louis and Lex Luthor's voices that unsettled Superwoman.
"I am Doctor Nemtsov. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kent. We've heard so much, so much about you..." the creature continued.
Clara couldn't communicate within the liquid, but she attempted to scream "Liar." Somehow the false human understood her and laughed, while the other figure, the green-skinned one, watched with an inscrutable expression, decidedly inhuman.
"You're right; I'm not Dr. Nemtsov, but I know everything the late doctor knew. An interesting, unprejudiced mind - a true man of science. I'm here to take his place and perform a much more efficient task."
Superwoman didn't understand, but inside she seethed, "You're a fraud". She tried to shout, "Who is Brainiac?"
They understood. The green-skinned humanoid straightened, but the fake Dr. Nemtsov approached the tank containing the Woman of Steel and smiled.
"We are all Brainiacs. Every one of us. We are all one, with different missions, but the same purpose."
"You are all lies!" Superwoman lashed out, unleashing searing heat beams.
The green-faced armored figure raised a hand and spoke in a cold, metallic tone, "Enough. Resistance is futile. You have already lost. You are a prisoner. This is the end. Cooperate and accept the transition. We have a proposal." His inhuman voice sent a shiver through Superwoman, who renewed her fight against the tentacles, pushing back violently.
"Enough, Superwoman, or Clara Kent, or whatever you call yourself. Listen to us. The late Dr. Nemtsov had a penchant for biblical metaphors. You have already been weighed, counted, and measured. Does that sound familiar?"
Superwoman sensed that the cruel yet familiar tone of the false Nemtsov was meant to destabilize her, to frighten her more deeply. It was something eerily familiar and yet false. Worse than the other creature. She tried to calm herself.
The metallic voice of the other creature spoke again. "This world has been studied and chosen. We wish to preserve it. It is of interest and must continue to develop under strict guidelines. You do not belong here. You come from a degenerate and inefficient world that has already perished. Your presence causes unacceptable dissonance and disruption".
Nemtsov - or rather, the fake Nemtsov - pressed himself against the glass. "This world, Superwoman, we like it. In fact, we enjoy it. Humans seem stupid, but there's a greatness in them. They need a little more time to evolve. We're fascinated by their propensity for fiction and emotional expression. What you might call 'art'. It's not the most artistic world we've visited, but it's very interesting. It allows us to experiment. We value art, not for human aesthetic conventions, but for its expression of being and intelligence, a source of knowledge and permanence. In some ways, humans are far behind, and in others, they are remarkably advanced. They're prisoners of dangerous moral fictions and conventions that have ravaged other parts of the universe. They've forgotten much of their past but have clung to other vestiges. We need a thorough study. Their appetite for knowledge as well as violence is also quite striking."
Superwoman glared at the false human in front of her. What did he mean by all this talk? What were they going to do with her and what were they going to do with Earth?
The green-skinned, armored creature spoke again, his voice a disturbing, inhuman monotone. "You, on the other hand, are quite curious - and an even greater disappointment. You are the strongest being we have encountered. And yet... You're only a small primate. It's remarkable what solar radiation and random cosmic travel can do. You are a formidable being. But at the same time, uniquely stupid and inconspicuous. Entirely consumed by human moral fictions. Enslaved by human passions and physical desires. Filled with fear. For a near-divine being who could conquer worlds and shape them at will, you are remarkably disappointing. A wondrous insect. We are amazed at how thoroughly humans have crushed and nearly enslaved you. It speaks volumes about the strength of human civilization."
"That is why we want to study them - and shepherd them carefully. To absorb every one of their perspectives. It has been centuries since we last visited such an interesting planet... and we have never encountered an anomaly as powerful and fantastic as you. But we don't admire you beyond your physical strength and abilities. You are not a survivor, nor a predator, nor a creator, nor a scholar. You're a weak protector, subjugated by the passions and fears of the inferior population you guard. On your home planet, many of these passions and fictions were nearly eradicated."
Superwoman felt a slight sting from their words, but an even stronger desire to confront these creatures. Their words frightened her, not because of what they said about her, but because of the implications behind them. How could beings so powerful be so empty? Zod and Faora were monsters, but they wanted to rebuild Krypton, to give their sick civilization a second chance. Luthor was ruthless and cruel, but he was passionate about humanity and its future; sometimes she saw him as a dark, arrogant reflection of herself. But these beings? These androids? What did they mean by "shepherding" humanity? How could they dismiss as "fictions" everything she and billions of others held dear? They were terrifying machines. Who had created them? Closing her eyes, she renewed her strength, pulling the tentacles toward her with all her might, even as the false Dr. Nemtsov's laughter echoed around her-a hollow performance designed to weaken her. She wouldn't let it. She was the Woman of Steel, and it was her duty to protect the fate of four billion people.