Cyborg, after his drone body disconnected, immediately led Shazam toward the scene—but was intercepted at the underground entrance by Joey.
"Minors not allowed. That means you, Billy."
Billy—or rather, Shazam—puffed up his face and tried to look serious.
"No, I'm Shazam! Billy's taking a break!"
The consciousness distribution of the six-in-one Shazam was always complicated. Most of the time Shazam himself was in control, but when things weren't too urgent, he would sometimes bring Billy or the other kids from the audience onto the stage to take part.
Seeing this, Cyborg grabbed Shazam's white cape and dragged him back.
"Stop messing around, Billy. Shazam doesn't talk like that. What's happening down there is complicated. It's not suitable for minors like you."
Since Joey was already here, it meant nothing too catastrophic was happening underground, so there was no need to bring Shazam down to put out fires.
As for what exactly was happening below, Cyborg figured he would find out eventually.
"No way! I feel like you're targeting me. And speaking of minors—"
Shazam pointed at Joey, who had just blocked his path, and complained to Cyborg.
"Cyborg, don't you think Superman looks way too young? He looks like he's only in highschool! This is blatant discrimination! No way, I'm going down to see it today!"
"Absolutely not! It's dangerous down there, and not appropriate for kids!"
"I don't care! I'm invulnerable! I've already finished all the rescue work in Gotham! We've been standing outside doing nothing for over ten minutes!"
Watching Billy Batson shake Cyborg's metallic body like he was basically throwing a tantrum, Joey suddenly felt that this world wasn't actually that bad.
At least in this world, Cyborg was still the kid magnet he once was, and Billy still had that pure-hearted spirit that hadn't been corrupted even by superhuman power.
In that regard, he was far stronger than his past self.
If Joey had met someone like Billy earlier, he might not have been so conflicted for so long.
But then again, Joey thought about how he had spent three full years in high school in his hometown—from 9th to 11th grade—without a single friend.
Maybe he had once been around someone like Billy, but he had already missed it.
Even now, Joey didn't have time to deal with Billy, so he simply found an excuse to shut him up.
"By Kryptonian standards, we consider ourselves adults after age twelve. Why don't you go to a nearby bar, order a honey water, and wait until we finish cleaning everything up down there?"
"That's exactly the problem!"
Billy shot back at Joey.
"This is Earth! If you're really going to follow Kryptonian standards, why don't you go back to Krypton?!"
Alright—Joey took back what he had thought earlier about Billy's 'pure heart.' This kind of hot-blooded idiot just had no idea when to shut up.
Cyborg, standing nearby, already had cold sweat pouring from half his head.
Dear God, did this kid even know what he was saying? Is this really how you use the Wisdom of Solomon?!
Kryptonian reinforcements were on their way to wipe out Earth's entire ecosystem, and Joey—who was already under immense pressure as a supposed traitor to his own species—was trying to help Earth resist them.
The last thing he needed was to hear something like that.
Billy, realizing how heavy his words had been, was about to apologize—when Shazam himself took control again and softly spoke the familiar word everyone knew:
"Shazam."
A bolt of lightning struck from the sky, and Shazam's form split back into six separate children—the original teenagers beneath the power:
Freddy Freeman, Wisdom of Solomon.
Eugene Choi, Lightning of Zeus.
Darla Dudley, Speed of Mercury.
Pedro Peña, Strength of Hercules.
Billy Batson, Courage of Achilles.
Mary Batson, Billy's twin sister, Endurance of Atlas.
The scene immediately turned even more chaotic.
Mary was the first to confront her foolish little brother:
"Billy, you idiot! The Courage of Achilles isn't for you to go around offending people with your loud mouth!"
Freddy was thinking a bit more long-term:
"Oh my god, is superman going to kill us?!"
"Can you shut your stupid mouth for one second?!"
"No, if that were really going to happen, Shazam wouldn't have de-transformed on his own."
"Billy, you should go apologize—and you should go alone! That was you who was running your mouth, not us!"
Watching this group of noisy middle schoolers bickering like it was recess time, Joey couldn't help but think this really was a kind of friendship.
He couldn't help wondering if his mental state in his previous life might have been healthier if he had actually made a few friends back then—maybe he wouldn't have ended up wiping out an entire G-men in the end.
But after looking at the Shazam group more closely, Joey realized they really were a mixed bunch—Asian, Latino, Black, all represented. In the terms of his previous worlds, they were basically 'diversity incarnate.'
If someone put their team into a place like Vought, they'd easily qualify as a Tier 2 squad.
After rapidly cycling through memories of three different worlds in his mind, Joey's earlier irritation from Billy's comment had already disappeared.
Shazam had even voluntarily de-transformed just to avoid conflict with him. Since the other side had gone that far, it wasn't like he could really stay angry at a bunch of teenagers.
Among the noisy group, Eugene Choi was the calmest. He quietly leaned in and whispered a few words to Billy, then pushed him forward toward Joey.
At this point, Billy had no choice but to nervously shuffle over.
"Su... Superman, I... I'm really sorry for calling you an outsider. You're a true warrior—you fought for us. I shouldn't have said that to you..."
Even the Courage of Achilles felt a little insufficient in front of someone like Joey.
Billy had every reason to be scared. Shazam's shared consciousness meant all six kids had seen everything—Joey's earlier intent to take Wonder Woman's sword and execute the other Superman on the spot, and the sheer madness with which he had beaten him. It was all like something straight out of a Quentin Tarantino film.
As for how a thirteen-year-old had seen R-rated Quentin Tarantino movies—don't ask. Life always finds a way.
"It's fine," Joey said.
He was already over it. He signaled Cyborg to take the kids away from the ruins, which might still be dangerous for ordinary people.
"You guys can go to that restaurant over there and get a drink. Cyborg will treat you. Before he got fired, he probably got tons of cash from the President."
"Hey! That's not funny!" Cyborg immediately protested.
"Keep talking like that and I'll dig up your real identity and drain your bank account!"
As Cyborg himself had said, that wasn't an idle threat. For someone like him, the modern financial system was as simple as 1+1=2.
For Joey and Cyborg, money was just something external.
Cyborg had previously taken the role of North American National Security Advisor not for the salary, but to use state power to save more people in the coming global war.
Now that the war had been ended by Superman, that position had turned from responsibility into a burden. Stepping down was inevitable.
But his boss had basically done the classic kick the ox after it's done plowing move—firing him before he could even resign.
Thinking about it made Cyborg want to swear nonstop, and only the presence of kids stopped him from using a word starting with 'm' and ending with 'er.'
"Our so-called President is a walking worm! The way he's running things makes me, the Pentagon, the White House, and my old friend Captain Atom all look ridiculous!"
"Heh, seems like you still don't understand him. People like that don't care about embarrassment. In his eyes, someone like you should have been told to pack up and leave the moment the war ended—"
Joey had been enjoying Cyborg's rant, amused by this fresh alternate-universe version of political satire about the golden-haired president, and was ready to hear more.
But then he sensed a massive surge of energy from the distant horizon.
His expression shifted slightly as he turned toward the sky.
Now he also felt like using the same word Cyborg had used earlier to describe the idiots in the White House and Pentagon:
"Cyborg, you're right. He really is a worm—because something even more embarrassing is about to happen over here."