| Chicago - August 8
Nova's muscles strained as the tentacles coiled tighter, constricting his limbs and torso with crushing force. Smaller tendrils wriggled toward his mouth, nose, and ears—trying to invade every opening.
Disgusted, he clenched his jaw and activated a burst of Nova Force, amplifying his anti-gravity field. A repelling barrier expanded from his body while a powerful gravitational pull formed just outside of Byth's shifting mass—pushing the limbs away from Nova while simultaneously tugging at Byth's own body.
The pressure eased slightly. The tentacles loosened.
It was working.
But it was draining. Nova could feel the strain in his core. Byth wasn't tiring—he was adapting. If this dragged on, Nova would be the one to fall.
He made a snap decision.
With a sharp upward motion, Nova rocketed into the sky, still dragging Byth Rok with him via his gravity field. Clouds parted as they ascended into open air, the city lights shrinking below. Then, just as suddenly, Nova dropped the field.
The tentacles surged back, rewrapping him like a predator reclaiming its prey.
And that's when Nova let loose.
A shockwave of golden energy erupted from his body—pure, searing Nova Force radiating outward in every direction. It lit the sky like a miniature sun, vaporizing the nearest tendrils and ripping through Byth's flesh.
Chunks of molten green-yellow tissue scattered in the air, caught mid-drift by lingering gravitational eddies.
Byth staggered, dazed. His grotesque mass wavered.
Nova seized the moment, slipping free of the restraints and flying several meters back. He focused his gravity manipulation again—this time crafting a vacuum bubble around Byth, pulling the surrounding air molecules away with precision control. It was a trick he'd used during the Prankster fires to snuff out oxygen… but now, it was a weapon.
Byth struggled, his skin already healing, his form re-stabilizing—but Nova had noticed something. No matter what monstrous shape he took, Byth always kept a nose.
So he needed to breathe.
Perfect.
Nova intensified the field, creating a low-pressure pocket that expanded rapidly. Every time Byth attempted to extend a limb beyond it, forming new noses or airways, Nova compressed the field further, collapsing those limbs into pulpy masses of scorched flesh. There was no escape.
Byth convulsed. Twitched. Flailed in silence.
Then he went still.
Ten minutes passed before the final limb dropped lifelessly. Anoxia had won. Nova's gravity field flickered as he released it, exhaling slowly.
His helmet had disintegrated somewhere in the chaos—probably during the energy blast. His suit remained intact, though singed. He gathered Nova Force in his head, concealing his identity as his face and hair glowed with golden light.
He descended carefully, the unconscious Byth—now reverted to a humanoid form with feathered wings—floating beside him.
Thanagarian?
Nova touched down near the two agents, their armor battered but functional. He scanned the female, unsure. Could it be Dizzy? There were too many bodies strewn around to be sure.
He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The male agent stepped forward ignoring his question, lifting a phone. "Our director would like to speak with you." Behind him, the woman—still silent—snapped a high-tech collar around Byth Rok's neck with practiced ease.
The phone screen came to life.
A woman appeared—African-American, slightly overweight, dressed in a tailored black suit. Her slicked-back hair framed a face that radiated authority and calm control. Her gaze was sharp, unflinching.
"Thank you for your help, Nova," she said. "We're A.R.G.U.S.—a U.S. government agency specializing in domestic metahuman affairs and small-scale threats. We underestimated the power of this one. But we can take it from here."
Nova studied her. Her composure. Her words.
If Dizzy was with them voluntarily… and alive… then they weren't enemies. At least, not tonight.
He nodded. "Fine. I'll leave him with you."
He hovered slightly, preparing to take off—until Waller spoke again.
"One more thing. Do not report tonight's events to the Justice League. This mission is classified."
Nova frowned. "And why exactly should I not?"
"The nature of the being you captured—and his implications—may threaten global stability. We can't afford League involvement right now."
Nova was silent for a moment.
Then he asked, "You say you handle metahuman threats. Does that include trafficking?"
Waller's expression shifted—barely. A flicker of interest, maybe surprise.
"Yes. We're aggressive on that front."
"Then you know about Leviathan?"
"We do," she said. "They're on our list. We're working alongside several intelligence agencies worldwide to dismantle them."
"Good." Nova's tone hardened. "When you move on them, I want in."
The League was occupied with too many things at the moment and they were too restricted by limitations from the U.N. Interpol probably still thought he was dead—or didn't know he was willing to get his hands dirty. But A.R.G.U.S. clearly wasn't above playing rough.
Waller gave a tight nod. "Understood. We could use someone with your… unique talents."
Nova floated higher, the glow around his face intensifying.
"If we're going to work together," he said, "what should I call you?"
The woman smiled—just barely.
"Amanda Waller."