CHAPTER 8: RED TORNADO'S UNEXPECTED HICCUP
My brief, bewildering encounter with Kara at CatCo had, predictably, left me buzzing. She hadn't instantly called the D.E.O., hadn't screamed, hadn't even tried to laser-beam me. Progress! She'd just called me "weird." High praise, coming from someone who could fly.
"She's softening, System. I can feel it," I thought, practically skipping through the mansion as I practiced making small objects orbit my head. "Soon, she'll be asking me for relationship advice. Or to turn James Olsen into a fluffy unicorn. One can dream."
[ANALYTIC NOTE: ANCHOR CONNECTION STRENGTHENING. RECOMMENDED: CONTINUED, CAREFULLY ORCHESTRATED INTERACTION.]
"See? Even you're on board with the 'weird' approach," I scoffed playfully at the System. "It's effective. Like a tactical tickle fight."
My self-imposed training continued. I was pushing the boundaries of Sensory Illusion to create more complex, multi-sensory experiences – making an entire room feel like a sunny beach, complete with the sound of waves and the smell of salt air, for instance. And my Minor Telekinesis was growing stronger. I could now effortlessly lift multiple objects, or manipulate liquids with surprising precision. It was intoxicating, the feeling of raw power, of being able to twist reality with a thought. And terrifying, because with every level, the responsibility, the Burden of Power, weighed heavier.
"Don't screw this up, Adam," I'd remind myself, staring at my reflection. "This isn't just some game. This is real life. Two real lives. And one very important anchor."
The quietude of my routine was shattered by the news of Red Tornado. General Sam Lane, a man whose patriotism was only rivaled by his profound distrust of anything that wasn't stamped "Made in America" (and preferably by him), had deployed a sentient, highly destructive android to fight Supergirl. As expected, it went spectacularly wrong.
The news channels were in a frenzy. Live footage showed Supergirl, battered and bruised, trying to contain the rampaging Red Tornado. It was strong, faster than her, and its energy blasts were tearing through the city like a hot knife through butter. Kara was struggling. She was getting hit hard, her movements becoming sluggish. The raw vulnerability, the visible pain on her face, was heartbreaking.
[THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME. ANCHOR VITALITY: RAPIDLY DECLINING. IMMEDIATE INTERVENTION RECOMMENDED.]
The System's alert screamed in my mind. This wasn't a time for subtle nudges or humorous distractions. This was a critical juncture. Red Tornado was designed to kill. And he was very good at it.
I raced to the largest window in my mansion, pulling back the heavy drapes. The sight was horrific. Red Tornado, a hulking, metallic monstrosity, had Supergirl pinned against a crumbling building, its arm winding up for a devastating punch.
"No. Not on my watch," I snarled, a cold, focused fury replacing my usual sarcastic demeanor. All games ceased. All mischief evaporated. When Kara was in danger, the Cosmic Jester became terrifyingly precise.
My gaze locked onto Red Tornado. Its arm was a complex network of wires, servos, and energy conduits. I didn't try to shut it down – too complex, too much power. Instead, I focused on the internal mechanisms of its right arm, the one poised to strike Kara.
[SKILL: MINOR TELEKINESIS (LVL 5). APPLICATION: INTERNAL DISRUPTION. FOCUS: TARGETED MECHANISM.]
I pictured the smallest, most vital gear, the most delicate circuit board within that monstrous arm. I imagined it seizing up, just for a split second. A tiny, almost imperceptible malfunction. A hiccup in the system.
I poured energy into the action, my entire being focused on that single point. It was like reaching into the heart of a machine and twisting a single, crucial wire. The drain was immense, a burning sensation in my core.
On screen, Red Tornado's arm, halfway through its deadly swing, visibly shuddered. A faint whine, like tortured metal, echoed from it. The movement stuttered. Just for a micro-second, the punch froze.
Kara, always quick, saw her opening. With a desperate surge of strength, she twisted, breaking free from the android's grip. She slammed into its chest, knocking it off balance, and followed up with a burst of heat vision that seared a hole through its metallic plating.
Red Tornado staggered, sparking, its arm now uselessly dangling. Supergirl didn't hesitate. She continued her assault, pushing it back, forcing it to retreat, its circuits smoking.
The news anchors were screaming, "Unbelievable! Red Tornado just... glitched! A miracle! Supergirl capitalized on an inexplicable malfunction!"
"Miracle? Inexplicable malfunction? Yeah, you could say that," I thought, wiping sweat from my brow. My body trembled, the energy drain leaving me weak and lightheaded. But the sight of Kara, still standing, victorious, filled me with a profound, almost dizzying relief. The fear of failing her, of proving the Fifth Dimension imps right about me, had been momentarily quelled.
Later, the D.E.O. released a statement. General Lane was, predictably, furious. Alex Danvers, however, in a brief clip, looked intensely thoughtful, her brow furrowed in concentration. "We are reviewing all available data," she stated, her voice tight, "but there appears to have been an... anomaly in the Red Tornado's combat systems. A highly localized, almost impossible, energy fluctuation. We are dedicating resources to understanding this 'glitch' as a matter of top priority."
"Oh, you're dedicating resources, are you?" I grinned, a weary, triumphant smile. "Good. Because I'm just getting started. And believe me, Agent Danvers, you haven't seen 'impossible' yet." The burden was heavy, but the purpose, solidified in the face of her danger, felt overwhelmingly right.