Chapter 34: A Calculated Risk
The Looming Shadow of Myriad hung heavy, intensified by my inadvertent distress of Kara and the appearance of unforeseen variables like Kevin. My prior, more casual interventions now seemed utterly inadequate. Alex's D.E.O. was growing more sophisticated in tracking my ripple effects, her desperation for answers palpable. My secrecy was a precarious balancing act, constantly on the verge of collapse. The Burden of Foresight demanded a more aggressive, yet still covert, approach.
"Alright, no more Mr. Nice Glitch," I muttered, my voice grim. "Time to take a calculated risk. Non is moving forward, and I can't afford to be subtle with everything. Some obstacles need to be removed directly."
My target: a specific, hidden supply chain for a rare, exotic alien mineral that Non's forces were secretly importing, crucial for the Myriad device's power core. Canonically, Supergirl would intercept this shipment later, but at great personal cost. I intended to remove it before it even reached National City. This required a higher level of Reality Warping, pushing my power limits while accepting a heightened risk of detection.
[SKILL: REALITY WARPING (LVL 2). APPLICATION: LOGISTICAL COLLAPSE (ISOLATED). FOCUS: NEUTRALIZATION OF MYRIAD COMPONENT ACQUISITION.][SKILL: SENSORY ILLUSION (LVL 3). APPLICATION: COMPLEX ENVIRONMENTAL MISDIRECTION. FOCUS: COVERING TRACES.]
I located the transport vessel: a cargo ship, disguised as a mundane freighter, slowly making its way through international waters. Instead of destroying it or physically attacking it, I focused my Reality Warping on its internal navigation and communication systems. I didn't hack them. I simply made them incapable of functioning correctly in a very specific, localized way. The compass spun wildly, the GPS displayed coordinates for a non-existent parallel dimension, and the radio emitted only static mixed with disembodied whispers of ancient Kryptonian proverbs.
The ship became directionless, drifting in a remote, international shipping lane. Then, using a more powerful application of Reality Warping, I created a localized temporal distortion around the vessel itself. Not time travel, but a pocket of slowed time, like a bubble of thick syrup. For anyone inside, minutes would feel like hours, days like weeks. The crew would eventually realize they were hopelessly lost, their mission impossible, their supplies dwindling, but they would do so in agonizingly slow motion, buying me invaluable time.
The energy drain was immense, a burning ache in my chest that left me momentarily disoriented. My vision blurred. This was far more taxing than any previous intervention. The cost of this proactive safeguarding was becoming dangerously high.
To cover my tracks, I simultaneously unleashed a widespread, but harmless, complex Sensory Illusion across the shipping lanes: a fleeting visual phenomenon of whales seemingly flying through the air, their songs echoing across the ocean. This would serve as a massive distraction, a "glitch" so absurd that it would monopolize global attention, masking the precise, devastating intervention on the cargo ship.
Through Cosmic Empathy, I felt Kara's bewildered awe as news reports surfaced of flying whales. But then, a subtle, almost imperceptible surge of relief. She didn't know why, but she felt a sudden lessening of an unknown pressure, an unidentifiable obstacle removed from her path. This solidified her reliance on the Glitch, viewing it now not just as a benevolent helper, but as an omnipotent guardian, capable of truly impossible feats. But this also intensified her silent questions about the Glitch's immense power. "How? What are you capable of? And is there any limit to what you can do?" The ethical implications of such a force, acting without oversight, began to subtly prick at her idealism.
Alex's D.E.O. monitors, meanwhile, were screaming. "Agent Danvers! Massive energy spike detected! Unprecedented reality warping signature over the Atlantic! Simultaneously, we're seeing global reports of… flying whales?!" Her predictive models went haywire, unable to categorize the sheer scale and absurdity of the primary event, let alone the targeted disruption of the cargo ship, which they'd only detect as a "lost vessel" incident.
Alex slammed her fist on a console. Her face was etched with desperation, her eyes wide with a terrifying realization. "This isn't just an anomaly anymore," she hissed, her voice low. "This 'Glitch'… it's not just powerful. It's playing God. It's acting on a global scale. We need to identify it. Now. Before it decides what's 'right' for all of us!" Her concern had morphed into a desperate, almost frantic need for containment.
"Playing God?" I thought, a bitter, weary laugh escaping my lips. "I'm playing the only hand I can, Alex. And I'm doing it to stop an actual God from enslaving the entire planet. But that's a story for another time. A time you might never have, if I fail." The Looming Shadow of Myriad demanded these desperate gambles, pushing me further into the precarious role of the Unseen Architect, operating on a knife's edge between savior and a potentially dangerous, unchecked force.
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