Clark Kent acted before Elias could speak. A blur of motion, impossibly fast yet gentle, he scooped Jonathan and Martha beneath his arms, depositing them safely inside the farmhouse porch doorway in a heartbeat. They staggered slightly, eyes wide with shock. "Stay inside," Clark commanded, his voice low but carrying the weight of worlds. His gaze locked onto Elias, blue eyes narrowed. "Lead." Elias stepped sideways into the cruciform light, vanishing into the golden haze. Clark followed instantly, cape flaring briefly against the Kansas twilight before disappearing. The portal snapped shut with a thunderclap, leaving only the scent of ozone and profound silence. Jonathan Kent stared at the empty spot, slowly reaching out to grip Martha's hand. "That boy," he murmured, his voice thick with disbelief, "he carved a hole to Paradise Island like it was nothing." Martha squeezed his hand, her gaze fixed on the fading sparks where her son vanished. "He called Clark by name," she whispered back, a tremor in her voice. "He knew."
They emerged onto cool, polished marble bathed in the warm, perpetual sunset glow of Themyscira. Towering white columns framed courtyards bursting with vibrant blooms, and the distant roar of the Aegean Sea filled the air. Elias scanned instantly – no guards, no Amazons in sight. Just serene, breathtaking beauty. Clark stood beside him, his posture shifting subtly from Kansas farmhand to demigod vigilance. His gaze swept the colonnades and terraced gardens, senses undoubtedly probing leagues beyond Elias's own. The Phantom Mask pulsed faintly, its fractal patterns shimmering as it subtly amplified Elias's own senses against the island's ambient divine energy. **\[AURA RESERVOIR: 61.8%\]**. *Sanctuary Pressure*. Then, Clark stiffened imperceptibly. "There," he murmured, pointing towards a secluded training arena nestled beneath a cliffside waterfall. Elias followed his gaze. Amidst swirling mist kicked up by crashing water, a lone figure moved – a blur of grace and controlled power. Diana Prince. She flowed through intricate spear forms, her movements a mesmerizing blend of lethal precision and elegant artistry. Her bronzed skin gleamed, droplets clinging to her dark hair. The sheer *presence* radiating from her – ancient power, unyielding purpose – vibrated against Elias's phantom heat, feeding his reservoir subtly even at this distance. **\[AURA HARVESTING: MINOR FEED (COSMIC GRACE OBSERVED)\]**. **\[RESERVOIR: 62.1%\]**.
Clark stepped forward, his voice resonant yet respectful, echoing across the marble square. **"Diana!"** The name carried effortlessly through the roar of the falls. Diana froze mid-lunge, spear tip quivering. Her head snapped towards them, dark eyes widening with shock that instantly hardened into lethal focus. In one fluid motion, she spun, planting the spear's butt on the marble with a sharp *crack*, her gaze darting from Clark to the silver-masked intruder beside him. Amazons materialized like shadows from archways and gardens, bows drawn, swords unsheathed, forming a silent, tightening circle around the courtyard. The air thickened with ozone and divine fury.
**"Kal-El,"** Diana acknowledged, her voice a blade wrapped in velvet, relief warring with suspicion. She strode forward, water droplets cascading from her armor, eyes never leaving Elias's masked form. **"Your presence here defies centuries of Amazonian wards. Explain this… interloper."** Without waiting for Clark's reply, her piercing stare locked onto Elias. **"You wear deception like a second skin,"** she declared, her tone shifting from inquiry to grim challenge. She raised her spear, its tip glinting under the golden light, pointing directly at Elias's chest. **"Prove you are worthy of this hallowed ground, Phantom. Or be cast from it."** Elias felt the Memetic Catalyst flare uselessly against her divine resolve – Diana required *action*, not words. The Devils Fruit timer pulsed **[51:33]**. He had seconds to choose: spectacle or sincerity.
Elias sighed. A low, weary sound amplified into ghostly resonance by the Phantom Facade. His finger tapped the Yamato's guard. **"Fine,"** his distorted voice rasped. With deliberate slowness, his thumb pressed *upwards* along the sheath's mouth – a subtle hooking motion against the blade's spine. **"But try not to bleed."** Before Diana or the encircling Amazons could react, Elias released the tension. Yamato slammed home into its scabbard with a sharp, echoing ***CLACK***. The sound wasn't loud, but it resonated like a tuning fork struck against the fabric of space.
Instantly, thousands of razor-thin blue projections erupted – not from Yamato, but from the *air* where Elias had stood moments before. They manifested as ephemeral slashes, shimmering cobalt lines woven into a devastating net stretching across the entire courtyard. Each slash pulsed with contained Judgement Cut force – precise, localized annihilation aimed *only* at weapons and armored pressure points. Bowstrings snapped silently. Sword blades flew from hands, clattering harmlessly onto marble. Shields buckled at their straps, falling uselessly. Spear shafts cracked mid-length. The Amazons staggered, unharmed but disarmed simultaneously, shock etching their faces as the ghostly blue lattice vanished like vapor. Diana remained untouched… until she shifted her footing to react. Her stomach plate emitted a hairline fracture – a single flawless incision grazing her divine metal. It didn't pierce skin, merely announced vulnerability.
Behind Diana, Elias slid Yamato home with a resonant *shink*. The scent of ozone and brine hung thick where he'd been. He stood now where she'd trained moments earlier, beside the mist-shrouded waterfall, silver mask gleaming. The cascade framed him in liquid thunder. Diana froze mid-turn, every muscle coiled like a spring. Her fingers brushed the faint scorch-line marring her armor's abdomen. Amazons gasped audibly. Clark remained motionless, eyes narrowed – witnessing impossible speed executed with surgical restraint. The sheer precision vibrated in Elias's phantom reservoir. **\[AURA HARVESTING: MAXIMUM FEED (METHODICAL SPECTACLE / DIVINE CHALLENGE MET)\]**. **\[RESERVOIR: 65.9%\]**.
Diana didn't crumple. She *folded*. Not in defeat, but in abrupt, graceless astonishment. Her spear clattered forgotten as she pitched forward, catching herself palms-down on the wet marble just before impact. Water soaked into her training leathers. Shock radiated from her rigid spine – not from pain (there was none), but from the undeniable demonstration: a masked stranger had bypassed Amazonian vigilance, disarmed her sisters without bloodshed, and marked her inviolable armor… all faster than thought. The waterfalls roar filled the stunned silence. Her dark hair curtained her face as she stared at the stone beneath her hands, breaths coming sharp and fast.
Elias tapped Yamato's pommel, the crackle of lingering Judgement Cut energy fading from his senses. Behind his mercury mask, his phantom grin widened as the system's distinct ***DING!*** echoed inside his skull – sharper, colder, like steel scraping ice. Crimson text blazed across his vision: **ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: "The Coming Storm."** **REWARD: Vergil's Outfit (Demon Prince Variant).** The system's whisper slithered in: ***Garment of Frostfire. Embodies Cutting Elegance & Unyielding Pride. Passive Resonance Amplifier: Dramatic Entrances & Dismal Weather.*** Before he could react, phantom threads wove themselves around him. His civilian clothes dissolved into shimmering particles, replaced instantly by tailored midnight-blue fabric lined with silver embroidery that resembled frozen lightning. A high-collared, open longcoat settled over his shoulders, its inner lining a deep crimson that seemed to bleed into the shadows. Silver pauldrons etched with demonic sigils gleamed faintly, and frost-patterned gauntlets encased his hands. The air around Elias dropped several degrees, mist coiling from his boots on the warm marble. Diana flinched back from the sudden chill radiating where he stood framed by the waterfall's mist.
***DING!*** Another chime, deeper, resonant. Scarlet text scrolled: **MASK LEVEL 2 ACTIVATED: FULL INGRAINING.** Silvery liquid flowed *inward* from the Phantom Facade, not dripping away, but dissolving into Elias's skin like mercury sinking into sand. The fractal patterns faded from sight, leaving only Elias Finch's face exposed – starkly pale against the Vergil-inspired attire. Simultaneously, his dark hair whipped back as if caught in a phantom gale, slicking itself perfectly into Vergil's signature silver-white style, strands sharp as sword edges. The transformation was silent, instantaneous. One moment, the Phantom's mask gleamed; the next, Elias stood revealed, hair stark white, clad in frostfire-blue demon prince regalia, Yamato resting easily at his hip. The air crackled with the lingering ozone scent of his Judgement Cut and the new, biting cold radiating from his form. Diana stared, her warrior's composure shattered. Her gaze locked onto Elias's now-unmasked face – the sharp lines, the unnervingly familiar silver-white hair, the chillingly calm eyes that seemed to hold galaxies. Amazons whispered prayers to Hestia, weapons forgotten. Clark's brow furrowed deeply beneath his curls, recognizing the impossible stylistic shift but unable to reconcile it.
Elias ran a frost-gauntleted hand through his newly silvered hair, the motion effortlessly cool. He met Diana's stunned gaze directly, his voice no longer distorted but chillingly clear, amplified by the frostfire coat's resonance. "Apologies for the theatrics, Princess." His tone was clipped, formal, yet laced with cutting pride. "Necessary credentials." He gestured dismissively towards the scattered Amazonian weapons and the faint cut on Diana's armor. "The wards proved... manageable." He locked eyes with Clark, then Diana, the urgency returning like a physical force. "Darkseid's architects are carving runes into Arkham's foundation *right now*. Parademons are the least of it. We need the League." Diana slowly pushed herself upright, water dripping from her chin. Her dark eyes, still wide with disbelief, flickered between Elias's transformed visage and Clark's grim nod of confirmation. The warrior within her reasserted control, hardening her expression. Suspicion warred with the undeniable display of power and restraint. She straightened to her full height, her voice regaining its steel edge. "Kal-El vouches?"
Clark stepped forward, placing himself between Diana and Elias, his presence grounding the impossible scene "He knows Apokolips. He knows *us*." He met Diana's searching gaze. "The threat is immediate, Diana. He offered a path – directly to you." Elias tapped Yamato's sheath. The Devil Fruit clock blazed **[50:41]**. "The path closes in fifty minutes," Elias cut in, his frostfire-enhanced voice slicing through the tension. "Decide swiftly." Diana's gaze swept over Elias once more – the demon prince attire, the Yamato, the stark white hair, the chilling calm. Suspicion remained, etched deep. But necessity, amplified by Clark's endorsement and the impossible blade at Elias's hip, tipped the scale. She gave a single, sharp nod. "Then lead us back, Elias Finch. Show us this architect." Her spear materialized back in her grip with a flash of golden light, aimed not at Elias, but towards the space he had torn open. **\[AURA RESERVOIR: 68.2%\]**. The storm gathered.