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The speeding jeep barreled toward the barricade. Nothing was standing between it and a full-blown disaster.
Until BOOM!
The ceiling above the venue exploded as if struck by a missile. Shards of metal and concrete rained down like a meteor storm.
People who'd been ducking for cover scrambled back in panic, terrified of being crushed by falling debris.
And then he arrived.
A shadow dropped from the opening like a comet.
CRACK!
The ground shattered on impact.
From the rubble, a figure rose tall, unmoving, unstoppable.
Nolan.
He stood directly in the jeep's path, calm and unshaken, as it roared toward him.
He twisted his torso and threw a punch.
"Stop."
KRA-KOOM!
With one earth-shaking blow, the jeep screeched to a halt like it had just slammed into a solid wall.
The hood crumpled. The front grill exploded into twisted shrapnel.
And yet the engine still roared, still tried to push forward.
"I said—stop."
Nolan tossed the briefcase toward Harry. With his free hand, he grabbed the wrecked hood of the still-straining jeep.
Muscles bulged beneath the coat taut, straining, visibly powerful even beneath the thick fabric.
Slowly, steadily, he began to push the jeep back.
The wheels screeched in protest. Smoke and friction-filled the air.
But the machine couldn't win.
The man was stronger.
Around them, the crowd stared in awe.
"What the hell is this guy? Captain America?!"
"No way Cap's white. This guy's…?"
"Wait… he's flying… and he's strong as hell… is he one of them? Like, one of the new supers?"
Even for hardened New Yorkers who'd seen alien invasions and giant monsters, this was something else.
A man stopping a weaponized jeep with his bare hands.
Nolan squinted toward the driver. The man's face twisted with rage and madness.
"Get him out," Nolan ordered.
Security rushed in.
"Doors are sealed!"
"Then use your guns."
BANG! BANG!
The lock burst. The driver was dragged out and slammed to the pavement, restrained instantly.
But the jeep kept revving.
"He's not controlling it," a guard reported. "The engine's on auto-drive. It'll take time to disable."
Nolan growled.
"Too slow. Step back."
Security scattered as Nolan crouched slightly. His muscles coiled and then—
"Up."
With a growl, he lifted the jeep. One tire, then another, lifted off the ground.
"Flip it."
He heaved.
CRASH!
The jeep flipped onto its side like it weighed nothing.
Nolan was already moving, leaping over the vehicle.
BAM!
He stomped the undercarriage, sending the entire thing skidding across the concrete like a toy.
His ears twitched.
He caught something barely audible Morse code being tapped through a communicator.
Hydra.
"You didn't learn your lesson last time," he muttered.
He rocketed toward the spy, grabbing him by the collar.
"What are you doing?!" the man protested.
"Thought I didn't hear you?"
Nolan didn't wait for an answer he hurled the man like a fastball.
He landed at a guard's feet. Controlled.
Three more started to flee.
Nolan was already on them.
One by one, he yanked them up and tossed them to the security team like sacks of flour.
And then it was over.
He landed softly in front of Harry.
"Pull out the serum. You know how to inject it, right?"
"Y-Yeah!"
Harry was still reeling. He'd seen his father on Green Goblin serum but this?
What Nolan just did was beyond that. He stopped a full-speed armored vehicle and flipped it.
Even Spider-Man might struggle with that.
Harry pulled the vial from the case and loaded it into a syringe.
He didn't fully understand what the Phoenix-2 formula did just that it was OsCorp's most closely guarded secret. The regenerative base behind their healing spray and bandages.
But could it revive the dead?
People were watching now. Cameras rolled. Murmurs rippled.
"He's injecting a dead guy?"
"No way this works. Williams has been dead thirty minutes!"
"Is OsCorp experimenting on corpses now?!"
Flashbulbs exploded. Every reporter captured the moment: Harry, kneeling beside the lifeless body of Williams, injecting the serum into his neck.
The room fell silent.
Nolan closed his eyes and listened to thump… thump…
"His heart's beating again," he said quietly.
But to the crowd, Williams still looked dead.
Nothing moved.
More mutters. More doubt.
"See? No miracle. Just PR nonsense."
"Even with superpowers, you can't beat death."
Then—
"COUGH! COUGH!"
Williams spasmed.
Spit and bile flew from his mouth. His eyelids fluttered open.
"Wha… What happened?"
The plaza exploded.
"HE'S ALIVE!"
"WHAT THE HELL—THIS IS A MIRACLE!"
"IS THIS GUY GOD?!"
Harry stared at Nolan, speechless.
Was this… science?
Or something else entirely?
Nolan didn't flinch. "It's done."
He floated off the ground slowly, coat flapping in the breeze. "Bring the infiltrators back to HQ. I've got other business."
He turned to leave but someone shouted from behind.
"WAIT! Who are you?! What's your connection to OsCorp?!"
It was Christine.
Sunlight filtered through the shattered ceiling. Nolan turned his head, face shadowed by the glow.
"…You can call me Superman."
And with that, he launched into the sky, disappearing through the hole he came in from leaving the entire city staring at his retreating silhouette in stunned silence.
"…Superman," Christine whispered.
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