| Mirror World Fortress of Solitude - October 12
Joseph, dressed casually, worked inside the Fortress of Solitude, finalizing the designs for his skin-icons.
The mystic cryptograms blended Atlantean, Greek, and Egyptian arcane systems—far more intricate than even the most advanced Atlantean sigils. That level of complexity carried an enormous risk; a misaligned glyph could kill an ordinary Atlantean.
Joseph wasn't worried. He understood the theory better than most of the species that created it, and he could survive any magical backlash if something went wrong.
The Fortress itself wasn't particularly impressive to him—just Superman's North Pole base. Its vast crystalline chambers held two solar pods, a Zeta-Tube, a towering statue of Jor-El and Lara holding Krypton aloft, Superman's old suits, display cases of Clark's childhood keepsakes, and a Daily Planet front page of Lois Lane's first Superman interview.
Joseph had suspected it during his own interview with Lois, but the Fortress confirmed it: Clark definitely had a crush on her. He wished him luck; Lois seemed borderline suicidal with how recklessly she chased scoops.
Kryptonian tech filled the rest of the space: a Duplicator Ray that produced unstable "Bizarro" copies, the shrunken Bottle City of Kandor, Superman robots, and a massive super-computer.
The only thing Joseph considered useful was the Duplicator Ray, but Nova's analysis confirmed it couldn't be perfected. He had gained another ability, sure, but what good were flawed clones?
He had entered the base by simply flying in using coordinates stolen from Batman's systems and phasing through the structure. Nova subdued the Fortress A.I. in seconds and assimilated its knowledge, including Kryptonian history:
Krypton had once colonized Daxam. General Dru-Zod attempted a coup over Krypton's diplomatic tensions with New Genesis. Jor-El and Zor-El stopped him, and Zod was banished to the Phantom Zone. Eventually, Krypton exploded in 1978 when Rao went supernova. The High Council ignored Jor-El's warnings, leaving him able to save only his infant son, Kal-El.
Joseph completed the final symbol on his skin-icon design. With it, he would gain full control over Chaos magic, while enhancing his elemental manipulation and physique.
"How's it look, Klarion?" he asked.
[I'm allowed to speak?] the weakened Chaos Lord muttered from the Chaos Nth Band around Joseph's wrist.
"As long as you don't say something idiotic."
[Hmm… Your skin-icon integrates the Eye of Ra and the Eye of Horus to invoke Ra-Horakhty, tying the rising sun (Horus) and the setting sun (Ra) into cyclical harmony. That stabilizes Chaos magic with your energy so you aren't consumed by it, and it allows your Nova Force to maintain a trace of magic.]
"You figured that out easily. You are pretty useful after all."
[I did say I had arcane knowledge. Sixteen billion years teaches you a few things.]
"If you lived that long and learned nothing, you deserve to die. Now—does it work?"
[Ouch. Yes, it works fine.]
"I'll double-check anyway."
[You don't trust me?] Klarion said in exaggerated offense.
"Not in sixteen billion years."
[Fear enough.]
Joseph sighed. Klarion loved the attention he got from intentionally messing up idioms.
'Nova, see anything wrong with this design? Any loopholes?'
//No errors detected. I recommend engraving the icon into the Chaos Nth Band rather than your skin for optimal efficiency. Also add security runes using the Order magic in the Order Nth Band to ensure Klarion remains contained and cannot siphon Chaos energy. Shall I generate an encrypted binding glyph?//
'Yeah. Do it. Then engrave everything.'
Within moments, the Nth Bands were covered in microscopic runic etchings.
Joseph admired the work, then chanted, "Aperi ostium."
The entrance of the Fortress slid open, and Joseph stepped outside before testing another spell.
"Crea tempestatem nivalem."
Instantly, a snowstorm swirled around him and the Fortress—where none had existed moments before.
Joseph nodded, satisfied. Combining magic with his abilities would boost his power dramatically.
[Using spoken words as a conduit? Why resort to such baby magic when you could embrace my Chaos magic and cast at will?] Klarion teased.
Joseph laughed. Who knew what would happen if his body constantly channeled pure Chaos magic? Diluting it with Nova Force was already risky enough. "Nova, mute Klarion. Only unmute him if he has something worth saying."
Joseph then opened a boom tube into the Tower of Fate—Justice League Dark's new headquarters—and stepped out of the Mirror Dimension. Normally, the Tower rejected teleportation, but Kent had keyed Joseph into its wards.
Inside, two men he'd never personally met were in the middle of a card game—but he recognized them instantly from Nova and Savage's memories.
John Constantine, the infamous occult warlock from Liverpool, perpetually hounded by supernatural bad luck. Nova had witnessed it firsthand while accompanying Dream: Constantine's ex had overdosed on Dream's sand after acquiring his pouch.
The other was Jason Blood, the knight of Camelot mortally wounded centuries ago by the sorcerer Destiny and bound to the demon Etrigan by Merlin.
Both men immediately stood—Jason's eyes narrowing, Constantine's hand glowing with a yellow sigil.
"Easy. I'm a friend of the old man," Joseph said.
"Then explain why you reek of Chaos magic," Jason replied.
That explained their hostility. Spells always left microscopic magical residue—each species left a signature in a different language.
Joseph had just used Klarion's power leaving Chaos residue on him. Useful later for drawing Child—not ideal for calming paranoid magicians.
Nova siphoned the residue into the Mirror Dimension. Joseph raised his hands.
"My bad for the scare. I'm Nova." His helmet formed around his face. "I captured Klarion and built an artifact to channel his Chaos magic safely. I came to show Kent."
Jason and Constantine exchanged a look, then slowly settled back into their seats.
"You believe me that easily?" Joseph asked.
"Kent said you were the reason this group exists," Jason replied.
"I didn't peg you for Luthor's sprog," Constantine added, squinting.
Joseph was surprised Constantine recognized him. That was something he needed to be more careful about, especially since he'd done several interviews and had been in the public eye lately because of LuthorCorp—and because of his father, Lex.
Still, he wasn't too concerned about them knowing he was Nova. People in their line of work had an unspoken code when it came to secret identities.
"You've probably got a few quid to spare, then," Constantine said. "Fancy a few hands?"
Joseph didn't have anything pressing, and he should probably get to know them if he'd be working alongside them in the future.
"Sure," he said. "But I'll warn you now—I haven't lost in a long time, and I don't plan on starting again anytime soon."
**
| Tower of Fate - October 12
John Constantine had seen hustlers, card sharks, and supernatural cheats who could rig a deck with a blink. But the kid sitting across from him? He was something else entirely.
It started innocently enough. John offered a round of pontoon. Joseph agreed, claiming he'd never played before—wearing the serene confidence of someone who didn't know he was about to be fleeced.
Or so John thought.
The first few hands were normal: John winning small, Joseph keeping pace. The kid laughed easily, asked questions, even pretended to hesitate over hits and holds. Every tell of a novice.
Then the real game began.
John raised the stakes with a minor enchanted trinket. Joseph matched it with ten grand like he was buying lunch. Kent Nelson wandered in to watch. Raven lingered behind him, quiet as a ghost. Even Jason Blood paused at the table.
And on that final hand, Joseph didn't blink. Twenty-one. Clean. Effortless.
John stared. "How did you—?"
"Beginner's luck?" Joseph offered with a gentle smile.
Annoying. But fine. Anyone could get lucky once.
So they played again.
Determined to reclaim some pride, John wagered the Moonblade—a shape-shifting lunar sword capable of storing thoughts, dreams, even souls. Joseph simply added two zeroes to his previous stake, as casually as ordering dessert.
This time, John didn't hold back. He cheated just subtly enough to slip under the radar of a room full of mystics.
And he still lost.
Joseph rose, tapping John lightly on the shoulder. "Good game. I know you cheated… but keep the sword. I already have those abilities."
No malice. No bragging.
Somehow, that made it worse.
John would've lit a cigarette if Kent weren't staring at him.
This kid was going to be a problem. Next time, he swore, he'd win.