"What's the plan?" I asked, leaning over the holographic display Mercy had pulled up.
The schematic showed Storage Vault Seven, two levels below us, connected by a maze of corridors and service tunnels. Red dots marked the intruders' last known positions, moving steadily toward the vault.
"Two routes," Mercy said, tracing her finger along the paths. "Main corridor, direct but exposed. Service tunnels, longer but gives us the element of surprise."
"We split up," I said. "You take the main corridor, draw their attention. I'll flank through the tunnels."
She looked at me like I was insane. "That puts you alone against potentially all three."
"That's the point. They're expecting security or a frontal assault. Not the disappointment son coming through the maintenance shafts." I checked my pistol. Seventeen rounds. Not enough if things went wrong, but better than nothing. "Besides, everyone underestimates me. Let's use that."
Mercy studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Don't get killed, Mr. Luthor. I'd hate to explain that to your father."
"I'll do my best."
She pulled a tactical knife from her gear, offered it to me. "Just in case."
I took it. The weight felt wrong in my hand. Marcus Webb had never held a weapon like this. But I nodded anyway.
"Five minutes," she said. "That's how long until they reach the vault. After that, the battery is gone and you're dead."
"No pressure then."
She almost smiled. "None at all."
We moved out in opposite directions. Mercy disappeared down the main corridor, her footsteps silent despite her speed. I found the service tunnel entrance, a maintenance hatch hidden behind a storage unit.
```
[>> LOCATION UPDATE <<]
Service Tunnel Network
Destination: Vault Seven
Distance: 400 meters
Estimated Time: 4 minutes
```
The tunnel was dark, lit only by emergency strips along the floor. Pipes and conduits ran along the walls, humming with electrical current. The air smelled like oil and ozone.
I moved quickly but carefully, gun drawn, every sense alert. My breathing sounded too loud in the confined space. My footsteps echoed despite trying to stay quiet.
```
[>> SKILL ACTIVATED <<]
Analysis Level 2
Scanning environment...
```
Something felt wrong.
The tunnel should have security cameras. Every restricted area in LexCorp had surveillance. But I'd passed three junction points and seen nothing. No cameras. No sensors. No guards.
Too quiet.
I slowed, examining the walls more carefully. There. Faint scuff marks on the floor. Recent. Multiple sets of boots. And the electrical conduit along the ceiling, one section showed signs of tampering.
```
[>> WARNING DETECTED <<]
Security Gap: Unusual
Boot Prints: Fresh (multiple)
Electrical Signature: Abnormal
ANALYSIS:
Probable explosive device
Distance: Unknown
Recommendation: EXTREME CAUTION
```
My blood went cold. This wasn't just a heist. This was a trap.
I heard sounds from the main corridor. Gunfire. Short, controlled bursts. Mercy had made contact.
Which meant whoever set this trap knew I'd take the alternate route.
I started backing up, slowly, keeping my eyes on the tunnel ahead.
That's when I saw it. A thin wire across the floor, barely visible in the emergency lighting. Trip wire.
```
[>> DANGER IMMINENT <<]
EXPLOSIVE DEVICE DETECTED
Distance: 15 feet
Type: Military grade
Blast Radius: 30 feet
EVADE NOW
```
I dove backward, throwing myself around the corner just as the world exploded.
The shockwave hit me like a freight train. Heat and pressure and noise all at once. I slammed into the wall, the air driven from my lungs. My ears rang. My vision blurred.
Dust and smoke filled the tunnel. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just laid there gasping, trying to remember how to move.
My arms worked. Legs responded. Nothing broken, I thought. Maybe. Everything hurt too much to tell.
I forced myself up, coughing, tasting blood and concrete dust.
Through the smoke, I heard footsteps. Slow, confident.
"Wow," a voice said, female, accented. French, maybe. "I didn't expect you to dodge that. You're faster than you look, Mr. Luthor."
I scrambled back, raising the gun with shaking hands.
She emerged from the smoke like something from a nightmare. Short hair, athletic build, wearing black tactical gear. But it was her hands that made my blood freeze.
Fire. Dancing between her fingers like living things. Not from any device. From her.
Metahuman.
```
[>> ENEMY IDENTIFIED <<]
PLASTIQUE
Bette Sans Souci
Threat Level: HIGH
ABILITIES:
- Explosive charge creation
- Fire manipulation
- Enhanced agility
- Military training
COMBAT ASSESSMENT:
Strength: 25 vs 60
Speed: 30 vs 70
Powers: 0 vs 85
YOUR CHANCE OF VICTORY: 3%
RECOMMENDED ACTION:
Retreat immediately
```
"Plastique," I said, the name coming from Marcus's memories. Every comic book wiki entry I'd ever read about DC villains. "You work for Amanda Waller."
She smiled, impressed. "Sometimes. Today I work for someone else. Someone very interested in you, Ralph Luthor." The fire grew brighter in her hands. "He wants to know if you're worth the trouble. If you're more than just the disappointment son."
"Who hired you?"
"Someone who paid very well to test you." She created a fireball, tossing it casually between her hands like a baseball. "So let's see what you can do."
She threw it.
I dove left, rolling behind a support beam. The fireball hit where I'd been standing, exploding with enough force to crack the concrete.
"Running already?" she called out. "How disappointing."
I ran. Not because I was brave, but because standing still meant dying.
The service tunnel opened into a larger space. A research lab, by the look of it. Workstations covered in equipment, chemical storage units along the walls, industrial machinery humming in the background.
And most importantly, exits. Two of them.
```
[>> SKILL ACTIVATED <<]
Analysis Level 2
Scanning environment...
ASSETS IDENTIFIED:
- Halon fire suppression system (ceiling mounted)
- Liquid nitrogen cooling pipes (wall units)
- Chemical storage (flammable - DO NOT USE)
- Electrical conduits (exposed, high voltage)
- Emergency exits (2 available)
OPTIMAL STRATEGY:
Deploy Halon system
Effect: Displaces oxygen, extinguishes flames
Side Effect: You will also be affected
Control Panel: 50 feet northeast
SURVIVAL CHANCE: 40%
ALTERNATIVES: 0%
```
Forty percent. Better than three percent.
I sprinted toward the control panel, keeping low, using the workstations as cover.
A fireball exploded to my right. Heat washed over me. I could smell burning plastic and singed hair.
"You're quick!" Plastique sounded amused, like this was a game. "But not quick enough."
I fired three shots in her direction. Didn't aim, just wanted to slow her down.
She created a wall of flame that detonated the bullets mid-air. The explosions were small but bright, buying me seconds.
Forty feet to the panel.
Another fireball. This one hit a workstation directly in front of me. I vaulted over the wreckage, landed hard, kept moving.
Thirty feet.
My lungs burned. My legs screamed. But I could see it now. Red panel on the wall. Emergency Fire Suppression: Manual Override.
Twenty feet.
Plastique appeared ahead of me, blocking the path to the panel. She wasn't even breathing hard.
"End of the line," she said, creating a fireball twice the size of the others.
I stopped, trapped. Behind me, fire. Ahead, Plastique. To my sides, chemical storage units that would explode if hit.
```
[>> TACTICAL ANALYSIS <<]
Direct path: BLOCKED
Alternative routes: NONE
Time to override: 3 seconds
Distance to panel: 20 feet
PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS: 15%
WARNING: This will likely fail
Proceed anyway?
```
"Fuck it," I muttered.
I fired at the chemical storage unit to my left. Not at Plastique. At the unit.
Her eyes widened. "Non, you idiot—"
The unit exploded.
Not a fireball explosion. A pressure explosion. Chemical reaction. The blast threw both of us back, filled the room with acrid smoke and chemical fog.
I couldn't see. Couldn't hear over the ringing in my ears. But I knew where the panel was.
I lunged forward, hands outstretched, praying I was going in the right direction.
My fingers hit metal. The panel.
I slammed my palm against the emergency release.
Alarms blared. Red lights flashed. Mechanical hisses filled the room as vents opened in the ceiling.
Plastique's voice, somewhere in the smoke: "What did you—"
Halon gas flooded the lab.
Colorless. Odorless. But I felt it immediately. The air getting thinner. My lungs starting to burn in a different way. Not from smoke. From lack of oxygen.
Through the chemical fog, I saw Plastique's flames flicker. Sputter. The fire needed oxygen too.
Her flames died completely. She gasped, stumbled, reaching toward me with murder in her eyes.
But she was already weakening. The gas was heavier than air, sinking, displacing oxygen from the bottom up.
Eight seconds. That's how long I had to reach the exit before I passed out.
I ran.
Seven. Six. Five.
Vision tunneling. Black spots at the edges. Lungs screaming for air that wasn't there.
Four. Three. Two.
The door. Right there. So close.
My hand hit the release. The door slid open. I threw myself through it.
Hit the emergency seal button on the other side.
The door slammed shut behind me.
I collapsed against the wall, gasping, dragging in oxygen like a drowning man breaking the surface. My whole body shook. My vision swam.
But I was alive.
Through the small window in the door, I could see Plastique on the floor. Not moving. Unconscious. Not dead, I thought. Hoped. Just down.
```
[>> COMBAT VICTORY <<]
Enemy: Plastique
Status: Incapacitated (temporary)
Method: Environmental Strategy
Combat Duration: 8 minutes
Casualties: 0
XP GAINED: +100
Total: 310/500
[>> SKILL UNLOCKED <<]
STRATEGIC PLANNING LEVEL 1
NEW ABILITY:
Identify and exploit environmental
advantages in combat scenarios
Passive bonus: +10% success rate
when using environment in combat
```
I sat there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, just breathing, just being alive.
Then I remembered. Mercy. The vault. The battery.
I forced myself to stand, my legs protesting every movement. Everything hurt. I probably had a concussion. Definitely had burns and bruises.
But I was alive. And I had a suit to build.
I started moving toward Storage Vault Seven, following the sound of silence that meant Mercy had already finished her fight.
I found her sitting against the wall outside the vault entrance, breathing hard. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead. Two figures in tactical gear lay unconscious nearby, zip-tied with professional efficiency.
"You good?" I asked, my voice rough from the smoke and gas.
She looked up. Her eyes widened slightly at my appearance. "Better than you. You look like you crawled through hell."
"Close. Had to suffocate a metahuman with fire suppression gas."
"You what?"
"Long story." I offered my hand. She took it, wincing as she stood. "You okay?"
"Ribs are bruised. Maybe cracked. But I'm functional." She gestured at the vault door, now standing open. "Got the battery."
I looked inside.
The Kryptonian solar battery sat on a pedestal in the center of the vault, glowing yellow-gold like a piece of captured sunlight. It was beautiful. Approximately two feet tall, crystal matrix swirling with energy. Salvation made physical.
Except for the spiderweb cracks running across its surface.
```
[>> CRITICAL ITEM STATUS <<]
KRYPTONIAN SOLAR BATTERY
Condition: DAMAGED
Power Output: 60% capacity
Structural Integrity: Stable
Cause: Explosion damage (structural stress)
ANALYSIS:
Usable but reduced performance
Repair Time: 12+ hours
Alternative: Use as-is with limitations
```
"Shit," I breathed.
"Yeah." Mercy leaned against the wall, holding her ribs. "It'll still work. But not at full capacity. The suit will have reduced power. Slower response time. Weaker energy output. Less runtime."
"How much less?"
"Maybe half. If we're lucky." She met my eyes. "You'll be fighting Deadshot in a compromised suit, Ralph. That's the reality."
I stared at the cracked crystal, watching the light pulse through the fissures. Half power. Against the world's deadliest marksman.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number. Of course.
I answered. "What?"
"Impressive, Mr. Luthor." That smooth voice again. "You survived Plastique. Used your mind instead of trying to fight her directly. Very... Luthor of you."
"Who are you?"
"Someone pleased with your progress. But the test isn't over." A pause. "Deadshot arrives in Metropolis in thirty-six hours. Can you finish the suit in time? With a damaged power source and a ticking clock?"
"I'll manage."
"I hope so. I'd hate for my investment to die so soon. Oh, and Mr. Luthor? Plastique will wake up in an hour. I suggest you're gone before then."
The line went dead.
```
[>> QUEST UPDATED <<]
BUILD ULTIMATE DEFENSE
TIME REMAINING: 36 hours until
Deadshot arrives
CURRENT STATUS:
Neural Calibration: 67% complete
Power Source: Secured (damaged)
Weapons Systems: Not installed
Armor: Incomplete
AI Core: Not programmed
I looked at Mercy. "We need to move. Now."
"Can you carry it?" she asked, nodding at the battery. "It weighs about one-fifty."
I looked at my stats mentally. Strength: 25. Could I lift 150 pounds while injured and exhausted?
Probably not well. But I didn't have a choice.
"I'll manage," I said.
Together, we lifted the battery from its pedestal. It was heavy, awkward, and warm to the touch. The glow pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Back to the lab," Mercy said. "Fast as we can. Before anyone else shows up."
We started moving, carrying salvation between us, racing against a clock that wouldn't stop.
Somewhere in Metropolis, Deadshot was coming.
And I had thirty-six hours to build the only thing that might keep me alive.
```
XP GAINED: +80
Total: 310/500
SKILLS UNLOCKED: 1
ALLIES: 1 (Mercy Graves - Loyalty 30%)
ENEMIES: 3 (Deadshot, Unknown Employer, Plastique)
TIME REMAINING: 36 hours
CRITICAL ITEM: Secured (damaged)
STATUS: Injured but functional
```
___