….
As shooting on Iron Man continued, Regal planned something no one was aware of.
It dropped without any noise, fanfare… or the 'usually' marketing.
A new chapter in a DC comic .
Named [Superman: Up In The Sky].
It appeared out of nowhere.
It's true that after Regal's influence, MDC Comics had been getting better and better.
The fans were growing.
But the growth was mainly concentrated on Marvel. DC was also producing better comics, but since Regal hadn't made any movie based on DC properties yet, it was lagging behind.
This move was a first step to change that.
Like Marvel, DC wasn't that famous with the current generation.
So Regal decided to crack that barrier with this comic.
It was a small story, pretty simple. In fact, it had more dialogue boxes than the best color drawings.
….
The video opened with the Metuber DJ sitting in his usual setup, but something was different about his energy today.
"What's up, everyone. DJ here." He held up a thin comic book. "And before anyone in the comments starts - no, this is not a paid promotion. I need to make that extremely clear right from the start, because what I am about to show you might look like one."
He set the comic on his desk, cover facing the camera.
"This is [Superman: Up In The Sky]. Written and illustrated by Regal Seraphsail, yeah, that Regal, the guy who is currently shooting [Iron Man]. Now, you all know me. I don't do comics. That's not my channel. I do movie reviews, critical analysis, that's my lane. So why am I holding a comic book right now?"
DJ pulled out his phone, showed an email on screen.
"Because three days ago, I got this. A personal email from MDC Comics. And it wasn't just me - I checked with other creators, and a bunch of us got the same message. They sent us this comic and asked us to read it and give our honest review. Here is the interesting part - they specifically wrote, and I quote: 'Please be as critical as you normally are. We want genuine reactions, not promotional content.'"
He put his phone down.
"So I did my homework. Called around, checked with people. Nobody is getting paid for this. MDC isn't sponsoring these videos. They are not running ads. They literally just sent out free comics to reviewers and said 'read this, tell us what you think.' Which is... weird, right? That's not how publishers usually operate."
This tactic of sending free review copies to content creators without payment wasn't commonly used in 2013, but MDC was clearly betting on something different here.
DJ picked up the comic again.
"So I read it, and I need to be honest with you guys - I knew about Superman before this. Big guy, red cape, 'S' on his chest, flies around, shoots lasers from his eyes, super strong. That was literally the extent of my knowledge. I knew he was this iconic character, but I never really understood why people cared about him. He always seemed too perfect, too boring."
He looked directly at the camera.
"I was wrong. I didn't know this. I didn't know about this Superman."
His voice dropped.
"And after reading this... I get it now."
….
DJ opened the comic and began walking through it.
"The setup is simple. A little girl gets kidnapped by an alien. Superman finds out and travels across different galaxies to bring her home. When he finds her, the alien tells him:
"'She's an orphan on your planet. She is not worth any of your time. It's not like she is a queen or a key to the empire. She is just a worthless girl. No one cares about her.'"
DJ's voice quieted.
"And Clark, Superman, he just looks at this alien and says: 'That's where you are wrong. I care.'"
DJ flipped through pages, showing the art - simple, clean, focused on expressions and dialogue.
"As you can see, the little girl didn't know Superman was really coming for her, but she held out hope anyway. And when he shows up, she is shocked. He tells her: 'Yes. You are going home.' Just like that. Matter of fact. Like there was never any other option."
He continued narrating.
"After freeing her and putting her in a spacesuit, Clark tells her: 'If you have any questions, just let me know.' And this kid - she has got questions. So many questions."
DJ started reading directly from the comic, his voice steady but softer than usual.
"'Where do your powers come from?' She asks. Clark answers.
"'How do you fly?'" She asks. Clark answers.
"'If you got in a fight with Batman, who would win?'" Clark actually thinks about this one, then admits: 'Batman would win.'
"'Why?'" She pushes.
And Superman tells her: "'Fighting doesn't mean a lot in my life, but it means a lot to Batman. He has been through a lot. And if I can do something to make him happier... well, I would lose a fight to him.'"
DJ looked up at the camera.
"She keeps asking questions. Does he ever get tired? Sometimes mentally, not physically. Does he sleep? Not really - he always keeps watch over everything. Who is his favorite Robin? He likes them all, but fine, the original - Dick Grayson - he's a good friend.
She asks: 'Why does Lex Luthor really hate you?'
Clark tells her: "'He hates me because I can do more than him.'
But then they both agree - it's probably because Lex is bald and Superman has great hair."
DJ smiled despite himself, but it was fragile.
"She asks if Wonder Woman is really cool. Clark says: 'The coolest.'
She asks why Green Arrow uses arrows to fight. Clark admits: 'I really don't know, but if it works for him, it works for me.'"
DJ's voice grew quieter as he reached the end.
"When they get closer to Earth, she asks him: 'Were you ever scared on this journey?'
And Superman tells her: 'Many times. Because I didn't want you to get hurt.'
Once they land, Clark gets her registered in an orphanage in Metropolis. He tells her: 'If you ever need anything, just tell me and I will come.'
She doesn't say anything.
So he asks: 'What, you don't have any more questions?'
And she tells him..."
DJ stopped. His hand went to his face, wiping at his eyes quickly.
"Sorry. She tells him: 'I had one. About why you left everything to save me. And why did you put up with me the whole time? But I already know the answer to that.'
And she hugs him - this little girl hugs the Man of Steel, and she says: 'Because you're Superman, and you care about everyone.'"
DJ sat back, blinking hard.
A tear rolled down his cheek and he didn't bother hiding it.
"I wasn't expecting that. I thought he was just a strong guy. The perfect guy. But this... this is different."
….
DJ collected himself, clearing his throat.
"Let's talk about what this comic actually is. Technically, it's not designed to make money. I just read the entire thing to you. Most people won't buy it now because I already told them the story. But that's the point. The goal wasn't to sell copies. The goal was to let people know."
He held up the comic again.
"This is a character introduction. This is Regal telling us: 'This is who Superman is. This is what he stands for. This is why he matters.' And I think - I might be reading too much into this, but I don't think I am - I think we already know what Regal's next project is after Iron Man."
DJ smiled at the camera.
"I don't have to spell out the name, right? I know my subscribers are smart enough to figure a few things out for themselves."
He gave his signature sign-off.
"Peace out."
The video ended.
….
The video didn't go viral immediately.
Neither did the similar videos from other creators who had received the same email. The comic wasn't making waves in the traditional sense - it wasn't dominating sales charts or trending on social media.
But something quieter was happening.
People were reading it.
People were talking about it.
People were crying over it.
….
Stan Lee sat slumped in the chair of his home office.
The desk in front of him was cluttered - old drafts, yellowing sketches, coffee-stained notepads, a photo of three smiling men: himself, Jerry Siegel, and three other kids.
He hadn't looked at that photo in years. Now he couldn't look away.
"Jerry." He muttered under his breath, voice rasping from disuse.
The name left his lips like a sigh, heavy and hollow. "You stubborn son of a gun…"
His fingers brushed the photo frame, tracing Jerry's grin.
It was the kind of grin that used to light up the old bullpen, the kind that made deadlines feel like adventures.
But now, that light is long gone.
Tring-! Tring-!
The sudden trill of the landline made him flinch.
Hardly anyone called on that number anymore.
He turned his head slowly, his heartbeat oddly quickened.
The screen flashed a name he hadn't seen in years.
Zephyr Owlsworth.
Stan froze.
For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.
Zephyr hadn't spoken to anyone at MDC since Jerry's funeral.
He had vanished - walked away from the industry, from everyone, from him.
Still, Stan reached for the receiver, masking the tremor in his hand with irritation. Old habits.
"Well I will be damned." He grumbled, forcing a dry chuckle. "Look who finally figured out how to use a phone. What's the matter, kid - forgot my number for, what, a decade?"
["....."] He was ready to follow up with another jab, but what came through the line silenced him.
Zephyr was crying.
Not the quiet kind, not the restrained sob of someone holding it together. It was raw, unguarded. A sound of grief cracking open old wounds that never really healed.
Stan leaned back, exhaling through his nose, shaking his head.
"Oh for god's sake, Zeph… you're crying like a kid. You've got a daughter old enough to get married - what are you bawling for?" His tone was sharp, almost teasing - but halfway through, his voice faltered.
Because he heard himself.
He heard how forced it sounded.
Stan's gaze dropped to the photo again, the one with Jerry's arm around his shoulder.
His throat burned.
He blinked hard, but it didn't help.
His old-man rule, no tears, no weakness - collapsed right there in that quiet room.
His voice softened, breaking around the edges. "…Yeah. I know, kid. I know."
Zephyr's words came through between sobs, choked but sincere. ["He would have loved this, Stan. God, he would have loved seeing this, the new stories, the faces, and this hope. Everything you kept alive."]
Stan turned toward the window, watching faint city lights flicker like stars behind smog.
His jaw trembled as the tears finally broke free, trailing down into his beard.
"Yeah." He whispered. "He would have."
For a long time, neither man spoke.
They just stayed there, two voices sharing a silence heavy with memory. Two old ghosts connected by the same loss, the same man who once made them believe in heroes.
And in that silence, Stan realized something.
Heroes didn't just live in pages or panels.
They lived in people - flawed, broken, crying people.
People like Zephyr.
People like him.
The call ended quietly, but Stan didn't hang up right away.
He sat there, staring at the faint reflection of his younger self in the dark glass, whispering almost to the ghost of Jerry Siegel.
"You were right, partner. The world still needs them."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, chuckled weakly at himself, and muttered. "Guess we all do."
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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