Joey naturally couldn't miss the conversation between Captain Atom and Cyborg.
Their exchange made it clear that the two sides were operating on completely different wavelengths.
Joey's side was trying to figure out how to survive the impending Kryptonian invasion, while the other side was willfully ignoring that threat and still treating Joey as a hypothetical enemy trying to conquer the world.
The news of the Kryptonian invasion was practically set in stone. The people actually in charge should have realized that.
As Cyborg had said, the specific data inside Kara's ship could easily be decoded in a short time by any number of capable experts.
And yet, the White House had chosen not to believe it.
Pretending the incoming Kryptonians didn't exist had gone beyond anything Joey could comprehend as mere stupidity. What exactly did they stand to gain from this?
Just to focus their efforts on dealing with him first?
Even if they succeeded, what then?
Without him, the Kryptonians would have an even easier time wiping them out once they arrived.
Joey admitted that he had once considered the question of how to govern Earth. But now, with Krypton in the picture, that was no longer a viable option.
An alien orphan ruling Earth was one thing. An alien backed by billions of his own kind ruling Earth was something else entirely.
From the moment Krypton's existence was revealed, Joey could no longer unify Earth's political powers through force—at least not openly.
Right. Not openly—
A sudden realization struck him, like a mental short circuit. He might have just figured out the White House's 'brilliant' plan.
Surely they weren't stupid enough to think that when the Kryptonians arrived, they would behave like they did in third-world regions on Earth—installing puppet governments to help manage the locals?
If they actually believed that, it would be ten times more foolish than denying the invasion outright.
That wasn't just confusion anymore—it was delusion.
At this rate, they wouldn't just lose their heads—they'd soon have nothing left to even touch.
Even taking a massive step back—assuming Krypton had no immediate intention of cleansing Earth and instead wanted to exploit it first—why would the White House think the Kryptonians would even value them?
A puppet government only makes sense when the ruling power lacks the strength to enforce direct control.
If the sun were red, maybe these people could actually sell Earth for a decent price.
But Earth was bathed in yellow sunlight.
Which meant Kryptonians could govern it with virtually no manpower cost at all. Especially since humanity, on a cosmic scale, was painfully weak.
Conquering a world like Tamaran—with powerful beings like Starfire—required a full Kryptonian fleet and hundreds of thousands of soldiers.
But securing Earth's obedience would only take a single scout ship and perhaps a hundred Kryptonians.
Without outside forces like the Green Lantern Corps, those hundred Kryptonians wouldn't just conquer Earth—they could wipe out half the human population in a single night.
Thinking about all this now was already too late.
They didn't even need to wait for the Kryptonians to arrive.
Joey was ready to make sure they wouldn't live to see tomorrow.
As Joey rapidly closed in on Captain Atom's position, the latter instantly reduced Cyborg in his grasp to a handful of ashes, then made a provocative gesture at the approaching figure.
Joey didn't charge in immediately.
To be honest, Cyborg's 'death' didn't anger him much. Both he and Captain Atom knew that Cyborg no longer depended on a physical body to exist.
Watching the ashes slip through Captain Atom's fingers, Joey stopped several dozen meters away, crossing his arms as he sized him up.
"You didn't do that just to provoke me, did you?"
That didn't seem like Captain Atom's usual style. After all, when Joey first visited Cyborg before, it was Cyborg who had greeted him with a Kryptonite cannon—while Captain Atom had been the one trying to calm things down.
Not to mention, today he had destroyed Cyborg's primary body without hesitation.
Joey didn't know why, but he could tell—Captain Atom was in a hurry today.
Captain Atom was in a hurry, but someone else was even more so.
At the exact moment Cyborg's main body was destroyed, hundreds of drone units scattered across Gotham—units that had been clearing rubble—stopped in perfect unison and rose into the sky.
Hundreds of machines surrounded Captain Atom, and the overlapping roar of "Son of a bitch!" from all of them created a shockwave of sound that even made Joey's ears ring slightly.
Then came the barrage—hundreds of missiles detonating around Captain Atom. But to the already numb citizens of Gotham below, explosions like these were practically routine by now, causing little panic.
Through his vision, Joey could also see deep beneath Detroit's industrial sector: massive mechanical factories had opened their gates, hundreds of assembly lines activating simultaneously, producing tens of thousands of new units.
Cyborg was genuinely furious now.
Yes, his consciousness resided in the internet—but that didn't mean being 'killed' came without sensation. Especially when the destroyed body had still contained his organic components.
Captain Atom knew that too.
And yet, he had still chosen to strike down his former friend without hesitation.
That wasn't like him at all.
A friend… and a man who saved his life. Even under orders, how could he be this cold?
"Superman, I'll handle him. Please leave this to me!"
One of Cyborg's drones flew over, trying to persuade Joey to step away.
"Nathaniel's never been like this. Give me two minutes—I can find the answer through the network!"
Cyborg was going above and beyond. Even now, he didn't want to see his friend throw his life away.
"Cyborg, stop trying."
Captain Atom stood completely unharmed amid the missile barrage. The drones' weapons couldn't even scratch him.
"This is no longer about personal feelings or heroism."
The energy from countless detonations was absorbed into his body and released again. A massive wave of power rippled outward from his skin, transforming into a devastating EMP storm.
Every electronic device in the area—and across Gotham—shut down instantly, including all of Cyborg's drones. In an instant, they became nothing more than scrap metal.
Captain Atom let out a quiet breath.
He had thought killing Cyborg's main body would be enough to provoke Superman into a fight.
Instead, Cyborg still clung to naïve hopes of resolving things peacefully.
And Superman… was just watching, like this was some kind of performance.
The plan had already stalled at step one.
"Superman, on behalf of the Pentagon, I am placing you under arrest for war crimes."
A dark red glow gathered in Captain Atom's hand. He could manipulate radiation—and that included red sunlight, one of the few known weaknesses of Kryptonians.
"Do not resist. Otherwise, I will use lethal force."
"Quiet."
Despite the close distance, despite the red solar radiation about to reach him in fractions of a second, Joey didn't move at all.
To him, killing Captain Atom would be absurdly easy.
The man's use of his abilities was as crude as Joey's own—but while Joey could get away with it, Captain Atom couldn't.
He would die.
Joey didn't even need to act.
Give it thirty seconds—Diana, already on her way, would gladly slice his throat open with the Godkiller sword.
But killing a soldier like Captain Atom meant nothing.
The worst thing he had done so far was vaporize Cyborg's body—and scatter his ashes.
And Cyborg himself didn't seem to object.
So what could Joey say?
Right now, Joey was doing something similar to Cyborg—integrating information on a massive scale across North America and even the world.
The difference was, Cyborg used the internet.
Joey used his own eyes and ears.
Just as Cyborg had said, this conflict made no sense.
Even if he fought Captain Atom here, another one might come right after.
Instead of wasting time, he might as well start making a list—like some Siberia-trained Santa Claus checking names.
Still, watching Captain Atom's energy readings spike higher and higher, Joey spared a bit of attention to deal with him—and asked the question he'd wanted to ask all along:
"What were your wife and daughter's names again? Angela and Peggy? Where did they hide them?"