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POV: Clark Kent
The soft hum of fluorescent lights and the faint rustle of turning pages filled the Midtown High library.
Rows of students sat hunched over their laptops and textbooks, but I wasn't thinking about finals or essays.
For the past two days, I had been buried in this exact chair, the glow of the computer screen washing over me as I scrolled through article after article, forum after forum. Every breadcrumb I could find on Hammerhead.
And yet—nothing.
I rubbed my eyes, leaning back in the stiff wooden chair. Detective Stacy had been right. Hammerhead didn't leave trails. No mugshots outside the folder he'd shown me, no records that weren't scrubbed or buried under layers of half-truths. The only things I found were whispers in internet rabbit holes—rumors of a "Manhattan kingpin" pulling strings, conspiracy theories about a "ghost boss" who made people disappear.
But nothing concrete. Nothing I could sink my teeth into.
My jaw tightened. I hated dead ends.
A sharp sound broke my focus.
Voices. Movement. I angled my head, letting my hearing cut through the quiet. A student a few rows down had his phone on speaker. Normally, I'd tune it out, but the words caught me instantly.
"…breaking news in Lower Manhattan. A robbery is underway at the 49th Street National Bank. Witnesses describe what they believe to be some kind of armored vehicle or even a tank tearing through police cruisers and barricades.
Early reports suggest multiple suspects, but the centerpiece of the chaos is… well, take a look for yourself."
A newscaster's voice gave way to shaky, panicked footage. Metal screeched, glass shattered, sirens wailed. I could hear the panic in the bystanders' voices, the sheer terror in the crowd.
My pulse spiked.
I logged off, shut down the monitor, and pushed the chair back so fast it scraped across the floor. A few heads turned, but I didn't care. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I was already moving, heart hammering.
Two days of searching for shadows, and now chaos had come roaring into the open.
I couldn't find Hammerhead and I wasn't going to waste another second when people needed me now.
---
The Rhino's laughter thundered across the street, echoing off the ruined glass towers. Twin Gatling guns spun up with a metallic roar, the barrels glowing as they unleashed a storm of bullets.
BRRRRRRTTTT!
The police line collapsed into chaos. Officers ducked behind cruisers, windshields shattered, metal doors buckled under the spray. Civilians screamed and hit the pavement, parents pulling children close while others scrambled for cover.
Through it all, Aleksei Sytsevich laughed. His voice boomed from the Rhino suit's speakers, drowning out sirens and shouts. The armor shuddered with each shot, spewing hot shells that clattered across the ground in waves.
Behind him, masked men in black sprinted from the bank, duffel bags stuffed with cash bouncing at their sides. They made for the waiting van, shouting orders at each other over the racket.
And then—
Silence.
The Gatling guns stuttered, groaned, and died. Smoke hissed from their barrels. Aleksei frowned inside the cockpit, hammering at the controls.
"What is this? Malfunction?" His voice twisted with irritation.
"Excuse me, sir."
The voice was calm. Steady. It didn't shout, didn't strain to be heard over the chaos. But somehow, it cut through the noise like a blade.
Every eye turned skyward.
Floating above the street, cape drifting on the in the afternoon air, was Superman. His silhouette framed by the sunlight, his expression unreadable behindhis mask.
In his hands, crumpled like toys, were the Rhino's Gatling guns. Metal twisted and torn beyond repair. He let them drop with a clang that echoed across the street.
"Please," Superman said, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes met the glowing red optics of the Rhino suit, "step out of the armor."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Cameras zoomed in, capturing the moment for every screen in New York. For the first time, Superman wasn't just a rumor whispered about on rooftops or alleys or grainy video or blurry picture.
He was here.
Aleksei's crooked smile stretched across his scarred face, his voice dripping with amusement. "So… you are the Superman I've been told about." His eyes narrowed behind the cockpit glass, scanning Clark like a butcher inspecting a cut of meat. Judging. Weighing.
Superman's gaze didn't waver. His arms remained folded, cape trailing behind him like a crimson banner caught in the wind. When he spoke, his voice was calm but carried the edge of command.
"I'm only going to say this one more time. Step out of the suit… and surrender."
He lowered himself slightly, boots almost touching the cracked pavement, the crowd's collective breath held in anticipation.
"Your little heist is already over." Superman tilted his head toward the street.
Aleksei followed the gesture, and his smirk faltered. His crew—those same men who had stormed from the bank—were now on their knees, hands zip-tied behind their backs. NYPD officers dragged them toward vans, their stolen duffels stuffed with cash already in police custody. Some of the crooks looked bewildered, as if they hadn't even noticed how fast they'd been caught.
Superman continued, his tone still even. "And you're disarmed." He nodded toward the mangled heaps of metal scattered across the asphalt—the shattered remains of Rhino's Gatling guns.
For a moment, silence hung heavy. The crowd waited, police fingers tensed on triggers, and cameras zoomed closer.
Then Aleksei chuckled. A deep, humorless sound that vibrated through the mech's speakers.
"The heist…" His grin widened, his voice turning harsh. "…was nothing but bait. To get your attention."
His tone shifted on the last word, spitting it out like an insult. "Hero."
The Rhino suit's hydraulics hissed, plates shifting as Aleksei braced himself, steam curling from its vents.
The crowd recoiled, sensing what was about to come.
And Superman… didn't flinch.
Steam hissed and burst from the Rhino suit's back as the thrusters roared to life. The giant mech lurched forward, each thunderous step cracking the concrete beneath its weight.
Superman blurred into motion, a streak of red and blue cutting across the street to meet him head-on.
The two forces collided.
BOOOOM!
The impact shook the air like a thunderclap. Shockwaves rippled outward, shattering windows and rattling cars parked along the block. Civilians screamed and ducked for cover as glass rained down.
Superman caught Rhino by the horn, his muscles straining as he anchored himself against the brute's momentum. The veins in his forearms tightened, his jaw set—but his blue eyes stayed steady, calm, unshaken.
Aleksei sneered from inside the cockpit, crooked teeth flashing. His thumb slammed a button on the console.
Sparks erupted. Arcs of electricity crawled across the mech's horn, leaping into Superman's hands and surging through his body.
Superman's jaw tightened, teeth gritting as the current tore through him—hundreds of thousands of volts, each one cracking across his frame like lightning.
"You might be bulletproof…" Aleksei's laugh crackled through the speakers. "…but not electric-proof!"
Superman's face twisted with effort. Then, with a sharp grunt, he thrust forward. His hand shoved against the Rhino suit's chest plate—metal shrieked, warped, and bent under the pressure.
Aleksei staggered back, the ground splitting under his heels. He glanced down, and his smirk faltered. Imprinted deep into the armor was the unmistakable outline of a hand.
"…Strong," he muttered under his breath, almost in disbelief.
---
POV: Clark Kent aka Superman
That was close. Too close.
My eyes narrow on the warped handprint pressed into Rhino's chest plate. A fraction more force and I would've torn through the armor and Aleksei along with it. The jolt of electricity had startled me, pushed me to use more strength than I should have.
At the last moment, I pulled back. Thank the one above all I did.
I draw a long breath, steadying myself. I can't afford to lose control. Not here, not with all these people around.
I push forward, intent on ending this before Rhino has the chance to pull another trick. But he's already moving.
Panels along the mech's shoulders shift with a hiss, revealing something new. For a heartbeat, I think it's more weapons. Then the air itself ripples.
A deafening blast of sound tears outward. The shockwave hits like a physical wall. Windows that hadn't already broken explode into shards. Civilians scream, dropping to their knees, clutching their heads.
And me? My skull feels like it's splitting in half. The noise rips through me every frequency vibrating in my ears, my bones, my very brain. Pain lances through my head like white-hot knives.
I stagger. My knees give. My hands clamp over my ears, but it's useless. The sound is inside me, shaking me apart.
And then silence.
I blink, tears burning in my eyes. My vision swims. My breath rasps as I force myself upright.
That's when I see it.
A blur of steel. Rhino's massive fist, piston-driven, barreling straight for me.
CRACK!
The blow lands square on my jaw. It doesn't hurt not really, but I wasn't ready. The force sends me reeling, my body plowing into a police cruiser parked behind the barricade. Metal crunches and folds around me, the car crumpling like tin foil as I'm driven into it.
For a second, the world tilts. I shake my head, glass and twisted steel falling around me.
Okay, I think, pushing myself free from the wreckage. Time to end this.
I shoved the twisted frame of the police car off my shoulders, the metal screeching before it finally gave way. My cape was torn, my ears still ringing, but I forced myself to stand tall. The street stank of smoke and oil, sirens cutting through the chaos.
No more giving ground. This ends now.
I burst forward, pavement cracking under my feet. Rhino reacted instantly his armor shifted with a hiss, panels sliding open to reveal those sonic cannons.
The air vibrated. Then came the blast.
It tore into me like a thousand knives, rattling my bones, setting every nerve on fire. My skull buzzed with pain, but instead of fighting it, I dropped low and slid beneath him, cape snapping behind me.
His booming voice broke with surprise.
"Huh—?!"
He tried to turn, but that suit of his was too bulky, too slow. I was already behind him.
I narrowed my eyes, pushing through the blur of pain. X-ray vision cut through steel and circuitry until I spotted it: a glowing core tucked behind armor, pulsing like a heart, with thick cables feeding power through the frame.
Found you.
I drove my fist forward not reckless, not wild, but precise. The plating screamed as I punched through, sparks erupting around my arm. Heat washed over me as I wrapped my fingers around cables and the glowing regulator.
With one hard pull, I ripped it free.
Aleksei's roar of rage filled the air as he tried to swing at me. For a moment, I thought he'd land it. But the motion faltered, slowed… then froze completely.
The Rhino suit locked up, lights dimming, his voice glitching through the speakers before they sputtered into silence. Steam hissed from his vents, the sound like a dying animal.
And then quiet.
I stood there, chest heaving, the mess of wires and the power core clutched in my hand. I stared at the imprint of my own fist in his armor and felt my stomach twist. That was close.
Too close. One inch more, one ounce more strength, and I wouldn't just have stopped the suit I would've killed the man inside it.
I let the parts fall to the ground with a heavy clunk.
It was over. I'd won.