Metropolis
The eyes of the entire world were focused on this single location.
Thousands of spotlights and camera crews surrounded Clark's position, creating a constant symphony of camera flashes and mechanical clicking sounds that echoed through the urban canyon formed by towering skyscrapers. The media frenzy was unlike anything in recorded history.
Just one day earlier, Clark Kent had demonstrated such overwhelming authority and dominance that he had effectively conquered the entire world, proving to humanity his strength and unwavering determination to establish the Plumbers organization. But when hundreds of nuclear weapons had been deployed against him without even singeing his cape, the whole world finally understood that they could no longer oppose Superman through conventional means.
What could possibly be used to stop such a being?
What hope did anyone have when confronted with someone who could withstand hundreds of nuclear explosions without even flinching? What was the backup plan, throw aluminum cans at him?
Even now, despite the existence of stubborn individuals who insisted on standing up and declaring "no" to his demands, the reality was that America and other major powers would be the first to silence such dissent.
This individual possessed the capability to massacre every human being on the planet within a single day, yet rather than using brute force to establish a global dictatorship, he was planning to create a so-called justice organization and pursue his superhero idealism.
If you didn't comply with his wishes at this crucial moment, did you really want to wait until he decided to overturn the negotiating table and physically remove your head from your shoulders? Not only was obedience necessary, but enthusiastic support was required.
Government officials were even concerned that insufficient initial membership in the Plumbers might displease Clark, so they had strategically deployed large numbers of skilled intelligence operatives to apply for membership under the pretense of "yearning to become superheroes" and "desperately wanting to maintain world peace." While pacifying Clark's desire to play at being a global peacekeeper, they could simultaneously gather crucial intelligence about the Plumbers' operations and capabilities. Why not pursue both objectives simultaneously?
Clark had actually been aware of these machinations for quite some time.
If he chose to focus his superhuman hearing, he could eavesdrop on the private conversations of anyone on Earth.
For guidance on this issue, he had specifically consulted Ben and requested appropriate countermeasures.
Clark instinctively felt that having foreign intelligence operatives infiltrate the Plumbers was problematic, but he genuinely didn't know how to handle these individuals appropriately.
Wouldn't simply exposing and ejecting them be somewhat too aggressive? After all, he was Clark Kent, a thirty-something Kryptonian who fundamentally opposed violence as a solution.
"I think you completely misunderstand the situation," Ben had replied while assembling components for the dimensional spacecraft. Upon hearing Clark's concerns, he immediately raised a finger and wagged it with obvious amusement.
"You need to understand what constitutes the core of the Plumbers' ability to survive and thrive."
"What is it?" Clark remained genuinely confused.
"It's you," Ben said, pointing directly at Clark's head with explanatory emphasis. "As long as you don't create problems for yourself, what can those spies actually accomplish? On the contrary, precisely because they are intelligence operatives, they won't dare to slack off in their duties at all. They'll exert one hundred and twenty percent effort to complete every Plumber assignment. What excellent tools they'll make."
Ben had insisted there was no reason for concern.
This principle was well-documented in S.H.I.E.L.D. operational manuals: genuine employees were the ones who tried to exploit workplace benefits and take shortcuts; only embedded spies worked with absolute dedication and conscientiousness.
"But they might harbor malicious intentions..." Clark had protested with obvious worry.
"Clark, you don't have to force everyone to share the same noble goals that motivate you," Ben had replied with patient wisdom. "Don't focus on what someone thinks privately, judge them based on their actual actions and results."
Clark had considered this perspective and concluded that Ben's advice was sound.
Therefore, he had chosen to accept all applicants regardless of their hidden motivations or secret agendas.
As long as their behavior didn't violate Plumber regulations and ethical guidelines, their private thoughts were irrelevant.
He had also noted with genuine comfort that several authentic superheroes had responded to his public call, individuals whose presence validated his faith in the fundamental goodness of heroic individuals.
Bruce Wayne concealed himself within the crowd, observing the tall figure standing in the brilliant spotlight from a carefully maintained distance.
From external appearances, the being appeared virtually indistinguishable from humans native to Earth. It was difficult to conceive that this was an entity that couldn't be destroyed even through nuclear bombardment.
As someone born and raised in Gotham City, Bruce never hesitated to assume the worst possible motivations in others. He was Batman, a vigilante forged in the cesspit of criminal corruption who had been staring into darkness since his earliest memories. Such a background made it nearly impossible to imagine that anyone could shine as selflessly as the sun without harboring hidden agendas.
He didn't believe that anyone could be genuinely pure and flawless, nor did he accept that everything Clark had accomplished was truly motivated by altruistic intentions.
Even if such purity were authentic, there was no guarantee that the alien would maintain such principles indefinitely.
Bruce's paranoia ran so deep that he often couldn't trust his own motivations.
"I don't believe you have no exploitable weaknesses," he murmured to himself as he quietly disappeared into the crowd.
He intended to make contact with Clark using an alternative identity. The bat lurking in darkness was about to encounter the blazing sun for the first time, and he wanted to control the circumstances of that meeting.
As for Barry Allen, the other superhuman who had been attracted to Clark's public demonstration, he didn't burden himself with such complex psychological analysis.
He simply thought Clark's actions were incredibly cool. In all the years since gaining his superhuman abilities, his imprisoned father had consistently urged him never to reveal his differences from normal humans, so he had never dared to use his powers openly or dramatically.
But that was about to change in a major way.
He pulled his hood lower to better conceal his features, fidgeting with barely contained excitement. "I've wanted to find someone similar to myself to talk with for so long. I just hope he won't be too slow to keep up with me."
Flash drummed his fingers with the rapid, nervous energy of someone whose metabolism operated at superhuman speeds.
He didn't reveal himself immediately, he wasn't quite ready to stand before so many cameras and reporters.
At least he wanted to wait until the crowds diminished, and this presented an excellent opportunity to observe what kinds of supernatural abilities other individuals possessed.
He barely had to wait before the Atlantean diplomatic delegation arrived.
As the first official contact between their civilizations, Orm personally led the expedition and traveled to Metropolis with a basic royal court entourage.
The DC universe's native inhabitants, who had not yet been exposed to the full variety of superhuman capabilities, found themselves dazzled by the spectacular display.
Meanwhile, Aboard the Modified Kryptonian Vessel
"Prepare for dimensional jump sequence," Ben announced from the pilot's position.
The Kryptonian outpost had undergone a massive transformation since their arrival. Although it retained its basic black coloration, the vessel now resembled a enormous disc-shaped craft bristling with exotic technology and energy conduits.
"Everyone secure yourselves properly," Ben instructed as he initiated the complex startup procedures. "The massive energy pulse generated during dimensional jumping isn't easy to endure without proper preparation."
There were numerous adverse physical reactions associated with traversing wormholes within a single universe, and those effects would be dramatically amplified when crossing between entirely different realities.
Even though everyone aboard possessed extraordinary capabilities in various ways, they might still experience severe disorientation or nausea during the transition.
"I'm already strapped in!" Mera announced with the enthusiasm of someone preparing to ride the ultimate roller coaster, raising her hand to indicate her readiness.
"Are you absolutely certain this will work?" Jax-Ur, the Kryptonian scientist and advisor who had been serving under General Zod, appeared notably pale with apprehension.
His anxiety was entirely understandable.
Crossing the barriers separating different multiverses or even omniverses to travel between completely distinct realities was something that couldn't be accomplished through conventional Kryptonian spacecraft technology.
"We'll be annihilated by the terrible energies contained within the turbulence of dimensional space-time!" he predicted with scientific pessimism.
Ben glanced in Jax-Ur's direction with mild amusement. The Kryptonian was actually a decent individual, but something about his demeanor reminded Ben of villainous advisors like Ebony Maw or other calculating strategists.
Major antagonists always seem to travel with the same basic entourage, he reflected. A brilliant military strategist, an attractive and deadly female warrior, and a muscular enforcer who isn't particularly intelligent.
"Don't worry about it, I've run all the calculations," Ben replied confidently as he positioned the two Mother Boxes at the central energy core of his dimensional apparatus.
To open a stable channel beyond universal boundaries, the exotic power contained within the Mother Boxes was absolutely essential.
Ben instantly activated both artifacts simultaneously, causing two-thirds of their unified power to pour forth in spectacular fashion. The energy release created thunderous "PING! PING!" sounds that reverberated through the vessel like massive drums beating in space harmony.
Although the sounds resembled meaningless noise to most listeners, Ben's ears could interpret them as intelligible communication.
This was the true language of the Mother Boxes, the secret frequency of universal truth that only authorized users could connect with and understand.
Ben was now interfacing directly with that primordial communication system.
"Initialize spatial tunnel formation," he commanded through their shared connection.
Even with only two Mother Boxes available, the energy they contained was beyond easy calculation or comprehension.
BOOM!
The Mother Box energy discharged instantaneously, transforming into brilliant golden power lines that flowed across every surface of the modified Space-Time Disc. Mera quickly raised her feet in preparation, and before she could voice her amazement, the dimensional flywheel began rotating at tremendous velocity, creating a vortex effect that caused local space-time to collapse inward!
Rather than opening a direct channel to their destination, the process converted the space-time flywheel itself into the key required to unlock interdimensional passage.
In the next moment, the massive disc vanished completely from the snow-covered mountains of the Arctic.
White snowflakes drifted past like the scattered dust of eternity itself.
When the atmospheric disturbance settled, a strange ovoid object fell from the empty spatial rift and landed softly in the pristine snow.
Time Variance Authority
Maltruant's mutilated form swayed ominously in the perpetual darkness of the containment chamber. Beside him, a Black man wearing a blue leather jacket fidgeted with an ornate hourglass on the metal table, his movements conveying obvious boredom and mounting frustration.
"How much longer are you planning to continue this charade?"
Victor Timely, the Survivor Kang, glanced at Maltruant with barely concealed irritation and flicked his finger to send the hourglass spinning across the surface.
"I spared your miserable existence because you promised me that you could eliminate all the timeline variants that had deviated from their proper courses and completely resolve the multiverse collision crisis. But after so many years of waiting, you've accomplished absolutely nothing of value."
"Not until you retrieve all of my dispersed body components from across countless temporal fragments," Maltruant replied in his characteristic mechanical monotone, his bloated bell-shaped form turning slightly to regard Kang with glowing red optical sensors.
Kang was profoundly dissatisfied with this response.
His patience had been worn down to virtually nothing after years of empty promises and bureaucratic delays.
"That completely uncontrolled timeline cannot be eliminated through standard procedures, pruned through conventional methods, or even accessed through normal temporal manipulation," he stated with growing anger.
"I have completely lost any authority over it, but the multiverse crisis it has generated continues to escalate exponentially. It's behaving like a terrifying gravitational singularity, while collapsing inward upon itself, it's simultaneously using that gravitational influence to distort other adjacent timeline structures. Several parallel realities have already been twisted into incomprehensible configurations!"
"That particular timeline is protected by an extremely powerful force," Maltruant observed with clinical detachment. His optical arrays, composed of red luminescent patterns across his mechanical body, focused on Kang as he continued speaking. "If you require it, I can provide you with Chronosapien Time Bombs for the operation."
Hearing this suggestion, Kang appeared momentarily speechless, as if someone had grabbed him by the throat.
He understood perfectly well how devastating Maltruant's so-called Chronosapien Time Bombs could be. They represented destructive weapons capable of erasing entire timeline clusters from existence entirely.
What he needed wasn't the absolute nothingness of total annihilation, nor was his goal to preserve only a single timeline branch.
From beginning to end, Kang's vision involved all timelines developing according to his predetermined specifications, like plants in a perfectly maintained garden, neatly trimmed, aesthetically pleasing, and fundamentally healthy.
"Destruction has never been the objective," he stated firmly.
"Then you'll have to wait," Maltruant replied with mechanical indifference. "Wait until you allow those temporal criminals to locate all of my missing components. Only then can I determine the whereabouts of the Time Beast, travel to the beginning and end of time itself, and reshape everything according to your precise specifications."
Observing that Kang's expression was becoming increasingly dark, Maltruant recognized that additional reassurance might be diplomatically appropriate.
"As for current circumstances... since those timeline variants are already collapsing into that central universe, why not work with the natural flow and guide some of the timeline branches that were scheduled for pruning toward that same reality?"
"Such action would trigger a small-scale multiverse war," Kang pointed out with obvious concern.
Maltruant displayed no emotional investment in such consequences. "They're just timeline variants that were going to be eliminated anyway. Rather than destroying them through standard pruning procedures, wouldn't it be preferable to allow them to struggle dramatically before their inevitable annihilation?"
"I need time to consider this proposal carefully."
"The decision is entirely yours," Maltruant replied with dismissive finality. "Regardless of your choice, the countdown to universal annihilation has already begun. Even if you take no action whatsoever, those timeline variants will collide eventually."
After delivering this ominous statement, Maltruant closed his optical sensors and appeared to enter a state of mechanical dormancy.
Witnessing this withdrawal, Kang had no alternative but to depart the chamber with a heavy heart and substantial concerns about the future.
The reinforced door slid open with hydraulic precision, and two guards carrying temporal reset devices immediately turned and saluted Kang with military precision.
"Remain at your posts," he instructed with apparent magnanimity. "If the entity inside expresses any needs, they may be accommodated within reason."
His words seemed generous, but they actually constituted disguised imprisonment protocols. Both guards obviously understood Kang's true intentions and nodded their agreement to maintain surveillance.
However, none of them noticed the subtle green filter that began spreading across their immediate environment.
After being enveloped by the emerald illumination, Kang and both guards became frozen in place as if caught in temporal stasis. Within the dark containment chamber, heavy and deliberate metallic footsteps echoed through the silence as Maltruant emerged slowly from his supposed dormancy.
He glanced at the paralyzed Survivor Kang and released a sound that resembled mechanical laughter.
"Mastering the hidden power of time? How absolutely ridiculous, time itself is MY domain!"
"I will reshape this entire reality according to my specifications!"
"Although this isn't the optimal moment for open confrontation, I cannot place all strategic assets under your exclusive control." Maltruant's optical arrays narrowed as his abbreviated appendages retrieved a small hexagonal device from concealed storage. The front surface of the container was engraved with a predator's fang symbol.
Besides Kang, Maltruant wasn't the only entity concerned about that anomalous timeline's continued existence.
He also preferred to prevent any additional complications from arising.
It was fortuitous that the Nemetrix he had acquired through chance circumstances could assist him in gathering crucial intelligence.
"But I should probably locate some additional assistance for this operation."
Inside the Dimensional ship
"We're about to impact something!" Mera screamed with a mixture of terror and exhilaration as she observed their surroundings through the transparent sections of their craft.
Outside the passenger compartment, gorgeous rainbow-colored streams flowed past their vessel, creating a dazzling light show that made her feel dizzy with sensory overload. Each beam of radiance was brilliantly luminous, flowing parallel to others while simultaneously interweaving in complex patterns. Some streams divided into countless branches, resembling enormous trees suspended in the space void.
Ben delivered a gentle knock to her head to refocus her attention.
"How many times do I have to explain that those are different timeline structures with no physical substance?" he said with patient exasperation.
Actually, that wasn't entirely accurate, the timelines did possess substance, but that matter couldn't be perceived through normal sensory input.
It was similar to how, under normal circumstances, when a person swings their hand through empty air, they don't feel significant resistance. At most, air resistance creates minor drag that slightly reduces forward momentum.
Moreover, Ben had programmed their route in advance to avoid any possibility of collision with other timeline structures.
"By the way, when we departed, did you remember to say goodbye to everyone else?" Mera asked suddenly, a note of concern entering her voice.
Ben tapped his Omnitrix with one finger. "Don't worry about it, the watch maintains communication capabilities across dimensional barriers. Now hold onto the safety rails firmly; we're preparing for final approach and landing.