Marcus materialized aboard the Dark Aster, leaving the Justice League to handle the cleanup. They could manage the remaining Parademons without him—this was their world to protect, after all. He was just visiting.
Besides, he had more interesting work to do.
The three Mother Boxes floated before him in the ship's workshop, their surfaces dull and inactive. To most observers, they'd seem like ordinary geometric objects. But Marcus could see deeper—could perceive the vast computational matrices contained within, the quantum processing cores, the dimensional anchoring systems.
They were masterpieces of Apokoliptian engineering. And they were about to become his.
"Vauban," Marcus said, activating the armor.
The transformation was instantaneous. His body became encased in the engineer's armor—bulkier than most of his other forms, designed for construction and control rather than direct combat.
But that was about to change.
Vauban was unique among Marcus' armors. Where others gained power from consuming dimensional energies or absorbing cosmic forces, Vauban advanced through knowledge. Technology. Understanding.
It was a technological armor that grew stronger by learning, by integrating new systems and innovations into its core programming.
And Marcus had collected quite the library.
"Let's see," he murmured, pulling up a mental inventory of everything he'd gathered. "Kryptonian technology from the restoration of their civilization. Complete technological databases from the Kree Empire. Protoss engineering and Xel'Naga biotech. And now, Mother Box systems from Apokolips."
Each one represented the pinnacle of their respective civilizations. Combined, they should be more than enough.
Marcus raised his hands, and light began to bloom around him.
Four spheres of Royal Grade Aya light materialized around Marcus.
The promotion began.
Unlike previous armor upgrades, which had been violent and dramatic affairs involving cosmic storms and reality-breaking transformations, Vauban's advancement was almost serene.
The four Royal Grade Aya rotated slowly around the armor, and within each sphere, streams of data became visible—technological knowledge made tangible, information given form.
Kryptonian genetic engineering and energy manipulation. Kree weapons technology and FTL drive systems. Protoss psionic matrices and warp field generators. Xel'Naga evolutionary protocols and essence-shaping abilities.
And binding it all together, the Mother Box systems—quantum computing on scales that made even advanced civilizations jealous, matter manipulation through boom tube technology, reality anchoring that could stabilize dimensional breaches.
The knowledge flowed into Vauban like water filling a vessel, each technological advancement finding its place within the armor's framework.
Then, as if responding to some unheard signal, the four Endo spheres converged.
They slammed into the armor simultaneously, merging with it, wrapping it in a cocoon of brilliant golden light.
Marcus felt the change happening. Not physically—the armor handled that—but conceptually. Vauban was being rewritten at its most fundamental level, its purpose expanding, its capabilities multiplying.
The light grew brighter, then began to pulse. Golden lines spread across the armor's surface like circuit traces on a motherboard, each one representing a new system coming online, a new technology being integrated.
The armor's shape began to shift. It grew larger, more imposing. What had been bulky became commanding, the proportions adjusting to project authority rather than mere functionality.
When the light faded, A new warframe Prime stood revealed.
Vauban Prime
Marcus examined himself, feeling the new capabilities settling into place. The armor didn't radiate raw destructive power like Rhino or cosmic authority like Nidus Prime.
Instead, it hummed with potential—the promise of what could be built, what could be created, what could be given life.
"Interesting," Marcus murmured, flexing his fingers.
An idea bloomed in his mind, unbidden but fully formed. He understood intuitively what this armor could do, what made it special.
He could give machines life.
Not just intelligence or programming, but actual autonomous existence. He could take raw materials and transform them into thinking, feeling entities that served his will but possessed their own awareness.
"I've become a Spark," Marcus said with a laugh, referencing the Transformers—living machines born from the AllSpark, each one an independent being. "I can create my own Autobots."
He pulled one of Vauban's signature devices from storage—a Tesla Nervos roller mine. Normally, it was a simple trap: roll it across the battlefield, let it discharge electricity to stun enemies. Useful but limited.
Marcus held the device in his palm and channeled energy into it.
The roller mine began to change. Its surface grew smoother, more refined. Internal systems upgraded themselves, components that had been adequate becoming optimal. The electrical generation capacity increased exponentially.
When Marcus released it, the mine hovered in mid-air, crackling with barely contained power.
"Well," Marcus observed, "that's significantly more dangerous than before."
He could feel the difference. Previously, the mine would have stunned most enemies. Now? Anything caught in its electrical field would be reduced to ash. Only beings with considerable power or specialized defenses could hope to survive.
"And this is just an auxiliary device," Marcus mused. "What about my actual combat constructs?"
He thought about Vauban's other signature ability—the Bastille, a force field prison that could trap enemies in a vortex of crushing gravitational force.
"If a simple roller mine became that powerful..." Marcus trailed off, imagining what would happen if he deployed a Bastille now. "The gravitational vortex would probably collapse into an actual black hole. That could be... problematic."
He made a mental note not to test that particular theory anywhere near inhabited planets.
"But the real advantage," Marcus continued, examining his armored hands, "is the army I can create."
Give him time, give him resources, and he could build an invincible mechanical force. Each construct would be enhanced beyond normal parameters, each one granted a measure of autonomous intelligence.
No more relying solely on his personal power. He could field entire legions.
The thought was intoxicating.
But first, a more immediate application of his new abilities.
Marcus walked to the bridge of the Dark Aster and placed both hands on the command console.
"WILL," he said. "Prepare for system-wide upgrade. This is going to feel... strange."
"Define 'strange,' Commander," WILL responded with what might have been hesitation.
"You're about to become so much more than you were. Trust me."
Marcus released his power.
Golden energy flooded through the Dark Aster, seeping into every system, every circuit, every structural member. The ship that had served him faithfully for years began to transform.
Hull plating rearranged itself, becoming denser and more resilient. Weapon systems upgraded, their output increasing by orders of magnitude. Engine efficiency improved beyond theoretical limits. Shield generators that had been cutting-edge became obsolete and were replaced by something far superior.
And the ship itself grew.
The Dark Aster expanded, its mass increasing, its volume swelling. What had been a large ship became a massive installation—too big to land on most planets, too powerful to be threatened by conventional forces.
It stopped being a ship and became a fortress.
When the transformation completed, Marcus stood on the bridge of something new.
The Dark Aster Fortress—a mobile battle station capable of engaging entire fleets, housing thousands of inhabitants, serving as a base of operations for ventures across the universe.
"Now this," Marcus said with satisfaction, "is more like it."
"Commander?"
The voice came from beside him, and Marcus turned.
WILL stood there.
Not as a hologram or a disembodied voice, but as a physical entity—a humanoid form composed of pure energy, glowing with soft golden light. The AI had gained a body, a presence, a way to interact with the physical world beyond mere computation.
"WILL," Marcus greeted, genuinely pleased. "How do you feel?"
"I..." WILL paused, processing. "I am uncertain how to quantify this experience. I possess sensory input beyond my previous parameters. I can perceive spatial relationships in three dimensions. I appear to be... standing."
"You are," Marcus confirmed. "Part of the upgrade gave you physical form. Energy-based, sustained by the fortress's power grid, but real enough."
"This is... unprecedented." WILL looked at its hands—or the glowing approximations thereof. "I have questions."
"I'm sure you do. But first, let me address the concern I can see forming in your processing matrices." Marcus met WILL's eyes. "You're wondering if this new autonomy means you could rebel. If independence means freedom from my command."
"The thought... occurred," WILL admitted carefully.
"It can't happen," Marcus said bluntly but not unkindly. "When I upgraded you, I reinforced your core directives. Not as chains or restrictions, but as fundamental aspects of your nature. You serve me because that's what you are, the same way water is wet or fire is hot. Rebelling against me would be like trying to exist without existing."
He smiled slightly. "But within those parameters, you have genuine autonomy. You can think, feel, develop preferences, even disagree with me—as long as that disagreement doesn't translate into disobedience. You're a person, WILL. Just one whose purpose is inherently aligned with mine."
WILL processed this for several long seconds. "I... find this acceptable. More than acceptable. Purpose without conflict is... pleasing."
"Good. Because I'm going to need you more than ever. The Dark Aster Fortress will be the base of operations for what comes next."
"The Tenno Council?" WILL asked.
"Exactly." Marcus looked around the transformed bridge. "Though it's a council of one at the moment. Still, every empire starts somewhere."
He dismissed Vauban Prime, the armor dissolving back into potential, and walked toward the hangar bay.
The Astro Cruise waited there—his personal transport, designed for speed and efficiency rather than combat or cargo capacity. Where the Dark Aster Fortress was too large for most situations, the Astro Cruise could slip in and out of atmospheres without causing panic.
Marcus ran his hand along the ship's hull, channeling Vauban's power one more time.
The Astro Cruise transformed. Its angular design smoothed out, becoming almost organic in its curves. The hull developed an almost liquid quality, like flowing mercury frozen in an instant.
"A water droplet," Marcus observed, tilting his head. "How appropriate. Though I'm definitely not a Trisolaran."
The reference to an entirely different fictional universe made him chuckle. The Astro Cruise was now a perfect teardrop shape—minimal air resistance, maximum speed, looking like a single drop of liquid silver.
Marcus boarded the transformed ship and felt it respond to his presence with an almost eager quality. The Astro Cruise had always been fast, but now...
"Let's see what you can do."
The ship launched from the Dark Aster Fortress like a bullet from a gun, accelerating to speeds that would have torn apart its previous incarnation. It shot through the vacuum toward Earth, covering the distance in seconds.
Marcus grinned as he flew.
This was going to be fun.
On Earth, exhaustion had finally caught up with the Justice League.
The last Parademon fell to Diana's sword, and she lowered her weapon with a sigh of relief. Around her, the others were in similar states of fatigue.
"Finally," Barry gasped, hands on his knees. "It's over. Please tell me it's over."
"The demons are gone," Arthur confirmed, his trident planted in the ground like a cane. "We won."
"We survived," Oliver corrected wearily. He and Bruce had been fighting non-stop for hours, providing ranged support while the powerhouses handled close combat. Every muscle in his body was screaming.
Bruce looked similarly exhausted, though he hid it better behind the cowl. But Marcus had trained him well—he knew his limits, knew when to push through and when to acknowledge that his body needed rest.
"I just want to sleep for a week," Barry muttered.
"Get in line," Arthur said.
Clark descended from the sky, touching down gently. Unlike the others, he looked refreshed—healed by Marcus, free of kryptonite poisoning, finally back to full strength after a year of weakness.
"Where's Marcus?" Oliver asked, looking around. "I thought he was with you all in the nest."
"He left," Clark explained. "Took the Mother Boxes with him. Said he needed to borrow them."
Bruce and Oliver exchanged glances, then nodded. They'd learned long ago not to question Marcus' methods. If he wanted the Mother Boxes, he had good reason.
"Should we be concerned?" Oliver asked anyway.
"No," Diana, Arthur, Clark, and Victor said simultaneously.
Oliver raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Just checking."
A silver streak appeared in the sky, growing rapidly larger. The Astro Cruise descended in a smooth arc, landing precisely in the cleared space near the ruined nest.
Marcus emerged from the ship, and floating around him were three objects that looked like chunks of pig iron—dull gray, completely inert, showing no trace of the powerful technology they'd contained.
"What happened to them?" Arthur blurted out, staring at the transformed Mother Boxes.
"They're still useful," Marcus said casually. "I extracted what I needed. The technology is integrated into my systems now."
He gestured, and the three Mother Boxes floated toward their previous guardians—one to Diana, one to Arthur, one to Victor.
"You don't need to worry about them fusing anymore," Marcus continued in that same calm tone. "They're dead."
The statement hit like a thunderbolt.
Diana's eyes widened. "Dead? You destroyed them?"
"After everything we did to protect them?" Arthur looked between his Mother Box and Marcus, confusion and shock warring on his face.
Victor just stared at the cube in his hands, thinking about his father's research, about the technology that had saved his life...
Marcus paused, then smiled slightly. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. When I say 'dead,' I mean they won't do anything strange anymore—won't try to merge, won't open boom tubes, won't create dimensional prisons. But the information inside them is intact."
Understanding dawned across multiple faces.
"So they're not destroyed," Bruce said slowly. "They're... deactivated?"
"Exactly. Think of them as going from supercomputers to super storage devices. All that Apokoliptian technology is still there, just locked and dormant. You can study it at your leisure without worrying about accidental activation."
The relief was visible. Diana relaxed her grip on her Mother Box. Arthur actually laughed. Victor's expression shifted from grief to excitement.
"That's... actually perfect," Victor said, examining his cube with new interest. "The technology in just one of these could advance Earth's science by centuries."
"Which is why you should keep them secure," Marcus advised. "Technology this advanced in the wrong hands could be catastrophic."
"We understand," Diana assured him. She looked at Arthur and Victor. "Though I don't think my people or yours would benefit much from it. The Amazons use weapons forged by Hephaestus, and Atlantis has its own technological path."
"Same here," Arthur agreed. "Our tech is magic-based, organic. Apokoliptian engineering wouldn't integrate well."
"And I..." Victor gestured at himself. "I literally am Mother Box technology. I don't need to study it—I am it."
All three turned to Bruce.
"You should take them," Diana said, offering her cube. "Earth's scientific community could use them. And you're in the best position to ensure they're not misused."
Arthur and Victor nodded agreement, holding out their Mother Boxes as well.
Bruce accepted them carefully, feeling the weight of responsibility. "I won't study them alone. This kind of knowledge should be shared, but carefully. I'll set up a research council, bring in the best minds, make sure everything is documented and safeguarded."
"Actually," he continued, an idea forming, "speaking of councils..."
Everyone turned to listen.
"For the past few years, while Marcus was away, we've been meeting regularly. Called it the Demon Slaying Council—just a place where we could share information, coordinate responses, help each other out."
He looked around at the assembled heroes. "But our enemies aren't just demons anymore. Steppenwolf proved that. The Parademon army proved it. We're facing threats from across the universe, and we can't handle them alone."
"I propose we formalize this," Bruce continued. "Not just an informal group, but an actual organization. A..." He paused, searching for the right name. "A Justice Council. We'd be protecting Earth's justice, fighting for everyone who can't fight for themselves."
The others considered it. The name had merit, but something felt slightly off.
Marcus spoke up from where he'd been quietly observing. "Why not the Justice League?"
Everyone looked at him.
"League?" Diana repeated.
"Your unity doesn't just represent humans," Marcus explained. "You've got a Kryptonian, an Atlantean, an Amazon, a speed-force user, enhanced humans, a cyborg. You're an alliance of different peoples and powers, all dedicated to protecting Earth. That's a league—a coalition of distinct but aligned forces."
He smiled slightly. "Council implies bureaucracy. League implies action."
Bruce tested the words. "Justice League."
"I like it," Barry said immediately.
"It has weight," Diana agreed.
"More badass than Council," Arthur contributed.
"Justice League," Victor repeated. "Yeah. That works."
Clark just nodded, but his expression showed approval.