Master Bruce

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

It's buckling. Can't... I can't...

Every muscle in Clark's body tensed up as he tried in vain to lift the crumbling slab of concrete and metal off his back. He had never properly tested the upper limits of his strength, but he knew he could lift cars, trucks, and even a few man-made structures. But an entire section of a destroyed overpass was something he'd never been ready to try his hand at, and this moment had been the worst possible time to learn that there was a ceiling to his abilities. Even as he strained under the building pressure, the insurmountable weight pushing him further down into the dirt beneath the broken street, Clark shifted his focus toward his hearing. Specifically listening for any signs of life around him. Even if he didn't manage to lift the overpass itself, his one hope was that he could still buy enough time for others to escape before its final collapse. But Clark's teeth grit and his knees wobbled as a grim realization hit him: he couldn't hear anyone breathing. There had been several bystanders standing helplessly beneath the overpass at the time of the missile strike. Clark had rushed in to try and save them whenever he'd realized that he couldn't save anyone above it. But according to his hearing, vision, and every other advantage at his disposal, he had no choice but to admit that they were all gone, having succumbed to the falling debris. Whatever his intentions going in, he'd failed.

I can't.

A reservoir of immense heat burned behind his eyes. His anger rising to try and meet his overwhelming despair, Clark's head nevertheless craned downwards. The commotion of the overpass' destruction had sent off a shockwave of echoes in every direction. Steel hitting against steel. And even in his state, Clark could discern that there was something very hollow several feet beneath him. His mind racing, fighting through the rage of experiencing so much immediate loss, he realized that at one point, there had been a different subway system beneath Metropolis - one that remained largely abandoned after Luthorcorp sought to replace it with an improved transportation system of their design. He wasn't sure if that was exactly what he was over, but Clark could at least tell that nothing living existed there. And given that he couldn't make his way out quickly enough through sheer force alone, Clark told himself that he had no other choice. Even with lifeless bodies and vehicles that were still being flattened beneath it, he'd have to let the overpass fall.

Got to let it out.

With a deep breath, Clark felt the heat that had been building and relaxed himself. Normally, he had to focus everything he had to keep his powers at bay. Sometimes, he even had to do all that it took to keep himself from floating off of the ground. But his supposed "heat vision", as his father had called it? It was the one ability of his that scared him. The sheer magnitude of cataclysmic potential that he felt inside of him whenever that anger boiled over into a literal red hot output, it'd been something that he'd practiced for years to keep within. But at this moment, all of his failsafes subsided. Everything slowed to a crawl and Clark finally managed to bring himself to a point where it wasn't a burden - it was a grand release. Opening his eyes, Clark violently thrust his field of vision toward the ground and blasted his way through the dirt below. The immense crimson light from his eyes practically blinded him, he smelt the burning asphalt and felt his body sinking at a much faster rate than before. The weight of the overpass above him slowly disappeared, turning into a mass of destroyed rubble as it went tumbling with him deeper into the Earth.

After a few minutes, Clark finally heard the soles of his shoes hit solid metal. His heat vision still firing with terrifying brilliance, he kept the pressure on and rendered the solid object into a melting molten liquid. The circle of a glowing lava-like solution grew wider and wider as Clark's anger fueled the beam exploding out of him to focus, until with a final push of two forces colliding against eachother, everything finally gave way. Clark finally collapsed through and haplessly fell several stories down, hitting the bottom of a massive tunnel just before what was left of the overpass powerfully crashed around him. For a moment, Clark felt like giving into the tension of what had just happened and passing out. But he had never even been sure if it were possible for him to do so in the first place. So he simply laid there, gathering himself before he could finally make himself stand back up.

What could've...

The heat behind the eyes returned, as Clark replayed the moments leading up to the strike in his mind. He wasn't sure of what everyone had been running from near the Luthorcorp plant, but he knew that someone had fired that missile. The question wasn't a what, or even a how. And that realization made Clark angrier than he'd ever been in his life.

Who did this?

It was a question that Clark knew he'd never be able to live with if he didn't answer. So many people had just been mindlessly killed in an attack that, for all that he knew, was still ongoing several miles above him. He didn't know the details of why it had been carried out and right now, he didn't care. Someone would have to answer for the murders that they'd just committed. The police weren't going to do anything about it quick enough, the army wasn't there to fight back, and S.H.I.E.L.D. certainly wasn't on standby. But Clark felt the power surging through him. One way or another, he was more than capable of bringing whoever did this to justice. The only question on his mind was whether it was worth potentially exposing himself - his powers, his identity, the entirety of his life of secrets - to the world. Placing his hands against the ground, Clark paused a moment. Then he pushed, bringing himself to a steady rise.

It wasn't a question to him. People had died because he hadn't acted quickly enough. If he hesitated any further, others still could. He had no choice but to leave it all behind, to act now and save as many as he could no matter the personal consequence. Breaking past a barrier of broken concrete, Clark stood amongst a thick cloud of soot and breathed out. He felt different - changed, somehow. This new resolve to use his abilities openly bringing with it a renewed sense of self. Looking down, he noticed that his red hoodie had been tattered by his ordeal. It hung over his shoulders, draping over his back and above his blue shirt. He considered tearing it off when his hearing suddenly kicked back in. People were still screaming. Taking a step forward, Clark allowed himself to slowly rise off of the ground. Gravity be damned, he began to fly forward.

This was a call to action. And he was ready to answer it.



Time to go to work.

---

"Movemovemovemovemove!"

Lois frantically guided Jimmy by the arm through the streets as the colossal drone continued carrying out its attack. Crowds of people straddling them in a run on either side, the two found it difficult to maneuver, but Lane was determined not to let her and her cameraman drift apart. This proved to be easier said than done, as even when he was running to keep up the pace, Olsen would occasionally slow down to try and get an extra shot. The seasoned reporter almost wanted to knock the damned thing out of his hands, but she had to admit a hard truth: if it were up to her, Lois would be doing the same thing. So despite the severity of the situation, all that she could do to keep her and Olsen from getting crushed was keep barreling forward. Eventually managing to spot an open alley out of the corner of her eye, Lois spun around and grabbed Olsen with both hands before utilizing what little speed she still had to pull him and herself into it. Stumbling forward, Olsen tripped and fell into an aluminum bin while she caught herself just in time, doubled over and gasping for breath. Her heart was doing laps and ready to burst out of her chest, but she and the ginger-haired cameraman were still alive. Chalk one up to small victories.

Assessing to make sure Lois was okay, Jimmy turned his attention toward the camera. His look of terror faded quickly into annoyance.

"Oh, come on! This footage is barely useable!"

Lois angrily punched him in the shoulder, causing him to yelp. "Seriously?! You could've been killed!"

"Yeah, and for what? Blurry crowd footage?"

"Jesus..."

Turning toward the alleyway's entrance as people continued to zoom past, hoping to escape with their lives as the drone rampaged just a few feet away, firing off blasts of heavy gunfire towards the opposing Metropolis PD cars as they appeared, Lois scanned the area for an immediate shortcut toward her car. But it didn't take long for her to spot where she had been parked - the area was now buried underneath a massive pile of rubble. The gears turning in her head, she began to realize the true immediacy of the situation: as long as that thing continued to attack, they were all trapped here. Lois' eyes widened as she began to realize another horrible facet of what had just happened.

"Jimmy. The intern."

Jimmy looked up. "Huh? What about him?"

"Remember how I told him to stay in the car?"

Getting to his feet, Olsen quizically looked at her. "I don't follow. What are you..."

Tears welling up in her eyes, Lois took a step back, horrified.

"I think I just killed him."

Olsen glanced back over at the area and spotted the debris of the overpass. His face turned white as a sheet. He hadn't known Clark Kent for more than a week, while Lois had met him less than an hour ago. But he seemed like a decent enough guy to both of them and certainly didn't deserve the fate that had seemingly befallen him and the other people that had been parked beneath it. Jimmy looked back, seeing the rising guilt on Lois' face. She blamed herself when it was nobody's fault.

"Hey, don't do that to yourself. You didn't know what would happen. Neither did he."

Watching the hardened news anchor nearly collapse into herself, Jimmy placed a hand on Lois' shoulder as she quietly berated herself for not even being decent enough to memorize the guy's name. It seemed so ridiculous, but she couldn't help it - everything had just escalated so quickly. As Olsen tried to muster up something else of small comfort, both were rocked completely out of their state of momentary bereavement by an all-too-familiar sound: the distorted voice of their tormentor, echoing out from the drone's hull.

"Resistance is pointless. Luthor will pay. And if it is to be in blood, so be it."

The two reporters watched as the drone paused, raising its hull and standing at attention as if it were waiting for something.

"This is just a small offering of my retribution."

As Olsen visibly tried to discern whatever the disembodied voice meant by that, Lois glanced over at the site of the factory explosion. Something was moving out from the large hole that the drone had made. Lois squinted to see if she could tell what it was, but by the time anything was visible, it became apparent that it wasn't one specific thing - it was several. Smaller helicopter drones flew out of the hole, boasting similar armament to their larger brethren. They were encircling the area in a tight formation, beginning a wide scan for any lingering onlookers. Lois nudged Jimmy in the stomach, directing him to see it aswell.

"That... can't be what I think it is, right?"

"Our situation going from bad to worse? Yeah."

Between the larger drone and its small battalion, neither Lois nor Jimmy saw an immediate way out. Both realized that this could easily be their end. Defiantly, Olsen brought up his camera and began to film every bit of it that he could. If he was going to die today, the world would at least know what killed him. Lois, on the other hand, began to look around. Maybe there was some small part of her that thought there was still a way out, but there weren't any options making themselves apparent. As she did, however, Lois did notice something else: a crashed car, freshly careened around a telephone pole with its engine smoking. The driver was hunched over his wheel, weakly moving and with blood trailing off of his forehead - but still clearly alive. And directly in the way of the larger drone as it resumed its destructive path.

She didn't hesitate.

"Stay here. And keep shooting."

"What? What are you..."

Jimmy's jaw dropped as Lois sprinted towards the crashed car.

"LOIS, DON'T! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

She wasn't listening. Making her way to the driver's side window, Lois fumbled with the door's handle and placed her foot against the side of the front, pulling as hard as she possibly could. The door was damaged from the crash, making it harder to pry open without any tools. But with a little grit and determination, Lois pushed herself as hard as possible until it finally gave in. Swinging it open as a loud thud signaled the drone's oncoming approach, Lois knelt inside and grabbed the man's arm, throwing it over her shoulder. He still wasn't fully conscious, but Lois wouldn't let it stop her.

Beginning to drag him out of the seat, Lois managed to get him out of the vehicle. But as she tried to pull them both back to the alley, she caught a glimpse of the drone as it rose above her. Barreling down without a second's thought. "Oh, God."

This was it. Within seconds, it would crush her. Olsen's screams for her to come back were drowned out. Letting the fear wash over her, Lois closed her eyes and braced for the end.

And then ... nothing happened.

"...Holy mother of..."

Olsen's declaration caused Lois to open her eyes again.

And what she saw nearly caused her to collapse on the spot.

"Wh... Who..."

It was a man in blue and red. And despite the seeming impossibility of it, he was pushing against the drone's leg and preventing it from stepping down on Lois and the barely conscious driver. Straining against the machine's power, the stranger nevertheless managed to get his bearings and throw the drone off of himself, freeing the two to finally cross without danger.

Turning towards Lois, the man revealed that his eyes were glowing crimson. She didn't know what to make of him at first sight. But his stern expression indicated that whatever he was doing here, he had only just begun.



"Get to safety."

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Your lack of dedication is noted.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

With that Superman post up, I should probably note that I know Hulk is past the 2 week mark and I'm technically out with the character. But I intend to resume him when this introductory arc for Superman is finished. But he'll probably be on the bench for a bit.

For those who are also past the two week mark, most of you have given prior notice and I've made a note of it. As a result, you're all safe for a few more weeks. But by mid-September, I'm gonna have to start singling people out. Which I hate to do, but it's nessescary. Even if I'm on that list too, it's one of those things that has to be enforced.

Just try and keep it in mind in the future.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

"An on-site accident? Really?"

Lois' eyes radiated skepticism as the MPD officer on the scene sighed heavily. The rather unfortunate man had been fielding questions from residents, firefighters, city officials, and reporters for the last hour due to his standing position outside of the gate adjacent to the now-smoking hole in the east wall of the Manufacturing Plant. Thrust into the role of temporary liaison between the department and the public while his peers worked the scene inside, the officer had been doing a serviceable job at deflecting questions that neither he nor the MPD had any real answers to - after all, this was a Luthorcorp scene. The minute that squad cars and ambulances had arrived, there had been at least three lawyers already present and outfitted with PPE gear to guide the rescue workers onsite, maintaining absolute discretion when needed. Whatever had happened was being kept a closely guarded secret until Luthorcorp decided that it was nessescary to inform any official channels. That was just how it had worked for the last twenty years. The way they conducted themselves, the company may aswell have been operating as its own sovereign nation within Metropolis.

But then there was Lois Lane. Already infamous for her journalistic exploits before being promoted to leading anchor of The Daily Planet, there were few in the city or even on the force who weren't aware of her dogged tactics. How she'd project an interviewee's carefully redacted misdeeds back at them to get a confession while live on the air had brought the career of many campaigning politicians to a screeching halt, and that was just when she was feeling generous. Several had outright declined being seated with her for any press at all, a fact of which she had often touted with pride - truthfully, she had never wanted to waste more airtime on the sleazy underbelly of city politics than nessescary. Her focus had always been on the middle to lower class, the average man and woman that had been too often overlooked in the rush to kiss the feet of capitalists like Lex Luthor and Bruno Manheim.

So when it came to a story involving salaried workers - who were already paid less than a living wage - being put into direct peril due to possible negligence of one of the world's leading megacorporations, Lois wasn't about to pull any punches. Nor had she ever been afraid of trying to punch well above her weight class. Even as the officer tried in vain to come up with an official line that might have gotten the other inquiries off of his back, Lois could tell that he knew exactly who she was. And that apparent intimidation on his sweat-frocked brow was all that she needed to crowbar her way past the corporate slogans to some tangible answers.

"Look, I don't know what else to tell you. My bosses are in my ear telling me that it was an electrical malfunction, Luthorcorp's people are telling them that the CCTV footage was wiped out by the blast. Nobody has any concrete answers at the moment. We're just focusing on making sure everybody got out okay."

Lois retracted the ready microphone in her hand, bringing it toward herself. "And while I'm sure that the brave people down at Metropolis Central are doing what they can, you have to admit, officer..."

The officer indicated the nametag above his badge. "Harper. Forty-second precinct."

"Officer Harper. You have to admit that things are looking a little sketchy from the outside, right? I mean, take what you just said about Luthorcorp. If this was truly an accident where no video surveillance can be pulled, why would their lawyers already have that information cleared for public airing? That can't be standard procedure, can it?"

The officer glanced over at Lois' accomplice, the ginger-haired young man with the camera resting over his shoulder. Before she had formally started asking questions, the reporter had assured Harper that this wouldn't be a live broadcast. But the way that he kept getting shots of the blast site, making sure to follow the movements of the rescue crews? Part of him knew that whatever he said would find its way to the nine o'clock news. In truth, he had no reason to lie - Metropolis PD truly knew about as much as anyone here. But he also knew Lois Lane's reputation. The best path forward was to stonewall his answers before he accidentally found himself facing a suspension.

"Wouldn't know. Not my department."

Lois' brow furrowed. "But surely..."

"Sorry, ma'am. Even if I knew what to tell you, they'd be on me with so many NDAs that I'd be begging for the standard paperwork."

Her mouth opened to form a rebuttal, but Lois was silent. As frustrating as it was to admit, the officer had a point - Luthorcorp was nothing if not incredibly litigious. Though she could tell that there was something more going on even as she approached the scene, whether it was a potential cover-up or otherwise, Lois still possessed the fundamental instincts of a good reporter. And one of the more important tenants of the business was knowing when a source was going to wind up as a dead-end. Perry White had taught her that on the first week of the job, and she had been mentally cursing his name for it ever since. Partly because so much of his advice always wound up following her out into the field.

"If you need anything else, call up the precinct tomorrow morning. They'll have a statement prepped for you and all of the other outlets. Until then..."

With a nod, Officer Harper turned to address another group of civilians slowly approaching from the sidewalk, leaving Lois and Jimmy with little to show for their efforts beyond some B-Roll and a couple of vague quotes. Jimmy shrugged to himself as they turned in the opposite direction in an attempt to move out of the way, considerably less bothered by the snubbing than his visibly frustrated colleague.

"All in all, at least he was nicer than most of the cops you've tried to wring a quote out of."

"Nice doesn't get us any closer to an exclusive. Or answer why Luthorcorp's already clamping down on leaks. Even when they're trying not to be suspicious, it's like they're..."

Jimmy gave her a look. Lois sighed, waving it off.

"Ah, nevermind. You wouldn't get it."

"Probably not. Maybe we should just stick with pedestrian talking heads? Get an angle on the blast from the outside?"

Lois looked back, visually scanning the area of the blast and squinting to see if she had missed something. There wasn't any way to explain it, but her instincts told her there had to be much more to this than some faulty equipment gone haywire. Luthorcorp was still an incredibly shady organization, but their boss had spared little to no expense whenever it came to anything. Security, lawyers, public relations, and even the basic consumer software that lined department store shelves. It was all top-of-the-line, largely paid for by Lex Luthor's legendary eye for business. Ever since he took control of the board of directors, the company had enjoyed watching its stock climb to new heights every quarter.

So in the face of overwhelming success, with a CEO who had become infamous for triple-checking the data and running a tight ship with policies that lent itself to meticulous testing, when did that leave room for subpar factory equipment? And with such an overwhelmingly public result? It didn't add up. And while Lois knew she was onto something, there was virtually no way for her to turn a hunch into a top story worthy of The Planet's broadcast.

"I doubt that'd get us anywhere. And if I did, I would've put a recorder in the intern's hand. Make him gather snippets from the crowd for us."

Olsen smirked. "He has a name, you know."

"And I'm sure it's very memorable, but c'mon. We've seen more than our fair share of guys like him. Guys who think they can cut it in television now, only to get in way over their heads and jump ship. In a week, I guarantee this one'll have left for some corner-office website or a video vlog. Or God forbid, newsprint."

"Wow. If they could bottle your cynicism, someone would make a fortune."

Lois let out a small chuckle as they crossed over to the next block, where a larger crowd of onlookers had gathered.

"Is it cynicism if it's true? Mark my words, Olsen. One week and you'll have forgotten his name, t---"

Lois and Jimmy both paused.

They had both felt some vibration rumbling from the ground a minute prior, but that was always to be expected at the site of a destructive event. In Lane's time as a broadcaster, she had even been to a couple of particularly nasty scenes with some measure of aftershock. Entire apartment buildings that had caved in after a fire. Rows of houses destroyed by violent forces of nature. But whatever they had experienced in the past, the two slowly looked at eachother in acknowledgment of the fact that this felt different. In fact, the ground was practically quaking.

"Lois? What's..."

"I... don't know. Something's off. It feels like..."

A silence had befallen the crowd ahead, each of them sharing a similar expression. A few even asked what was happening amongst themselves. But as their eyes collectively began to dart upward, the tone of their reaction changing one by one, Lois elbowed Jimmy hard in the shoulder and immediately started sprinting toward the crowd. Something was definitely happening, and the only difference between the crowd's peripheral vision and theirs was a massive cloud of smoke billowing upwards. Silently directing Olsen to start filming towards the sky as they got closer, Lois maneuvered beneath some yellow-and-black tape, popping back up to join the crowd's gaze while trying to see what the hell was going on for herself.

And what Lois saw was something no one on the scene could believe at first: with little immediate indication of what it was, an enormous object had suddenly breached through the large factory roof and was in the process of rising, splintering the already structurally damaged factory wide open. Screams could immediately be heard crying out from the inside, and a small batch of rescue workers were spotted fleeing from the object's path. Police officers around the perimeter began to panic, shouting barely intelligible orders into their walkie-talkies. Lois and Jimmy could do nothing but watch the scene unfold, mouth agape, as the moving object began to reveal itself: its hull made of an unpainted-but-strikingly toned metal, with pistons roaring to life and visible armed weapons jutting out from two sides, it was some sort of advanced military-looking craft. And as it rose fully, it turned violently towards the crowd.

"Uh... what is that?"

Lois' eyes widened. The hardened reporter thrust in a state of disbelief.

"Holy shit."

"People of Metropolis. How long have we been playing this game?"

The voice was heavily distorted, but broadcasting off of a speaker loud enough for the next block to hear and then some. It was the same voice that many in the crowd had recognized from a collection of fringe rants against Luthorcorp and its owner that had been garnering millions of views over the past few months. Lois herself had broadcast samplings of a few of them on The Daily Planet, and Jimmy had even mocked them amongst his co-workers in the breakroom over the last month. Now, it seemed, the anonymous hacker's threats had become very real.

"The world mocked me. They couldn't see. They didn't see the truth, and continued to peddle their admiration towards a man whose greed is unparalleled."

The large craft took an imposing step forward, bringing down an entire wall as it approached. The crowd dispersed, screaming, while the Metropolis PD brought out their guns and began to fire on the seemingly mindless drone. The bullets simply ricocheted off of the hull, bouncing into the debris that surrounded it. An ear-piercing whine emanated from whatever engine was powering it, which sounded angrier than a machine like this seemed capable of.

"I warned you all that this would happen. I promised it would. But you refused to believe."

Jimmy's camera was affixed to its approach, with the cameraman holding no regard for his safety. Lois was still in too much shock to say anything, but she did move forward, her gaze still on the drone, and grab him hard by the back of his shirt's collar. Olsen nearly dropped the camera as she violently pulled him out of the way, but he quickly realized that she was right. This wasn't the time or place to try and get the perfect shot.

"Man has often valued machines over people. Now machines will be the ones to reap what men like Luthor have sown."

To the onlookers' horror, the weapons trained at either side of the drone began to move upward from a stationary position.

Lights flickered to life. Even to the uninitiated, that clearly meant one thing:

It was aiming.

"I am The Toyman. And I'm not playing anymore."

---

Move it, Clark...

Kent had heard the disturbance from over half a mile away.

Not merely content to stay seated in the back of Lane's car, the wannabe journalist had managed to track down a couple of passing bystanders and ask for their thoughts on what had caused the initial factory explosion, recording the brief conversations with a hastily installed app on his phone. While no one he'd talked to could necessarily agree on the details, it had all pointed towards a very sudden and hastily covered disaster that had rocked the immediate area of Hob's Bay: all the local businesses had closed shop early, patrons were preparing to be gridlocked in traffic leading out of the city, and the residents living in the surrounding apartment buildings had all filed out to the streets to try and understand what was happening. Clark didn't have any answers for them himself, but he'd tried to assure them that it looked like the emergency services were handling it the best that they could. Most of them merely balked at that assertion, claiming that they'd barely cared to make the effort before.

But this was Luthorcorp. If Clark knew one thing about living in Metropolis for most of his life, it was that if the tech-giant were at risk, the police, firefighters, ambulances, and even the National Guard might arrive to help as quickly as they could. None of the local government could risk losing out on a potentially game-changing grant drawn from Lex Luthor's personal account, and they knew it. People's livelihoods depended on the reclusive billionaire's every whim, and that had proven to be as predictable as the changing tides. It was a sentiment that had never sat right with Clark, for obvious reasons, but such a city-wide mantra had always made for a good way to tell when something was going to be done to solve serious problems. If you needed anything to change, get Luthorcorp involved.

Clark had tried to ring Jimmy's phone, but he realized that despite their friendly conversation in the days before, he'd never gotten a number to call. Lane had even instructed him to contact one of them if something went awry, but again, there was no way to get ahold of either of his co-workers. And whenever he finally sought to contact The Daily Planet offices themselves, his signal seemed to be interrupted by... something. So after stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Kent had seen no choice but to start running towards the scene himself. He was still several blocks away whenever his acute hearing had picked up the loud noises of metal crushing against concrete, but he knew something was severely wrong. The ground had been vibrating for several minutes and people had been leaving the area as quickly as possible.

"C'mon. C'mon."

What bothered him most was the sound of the screams. Even miles away, people were reacting to whatever was happening in absolute terror. He'd never heard anything like it within the city, but he'd heard it elsewhere. Massive fires half a world away. Natural disasters that had swept up countless innocent lives in the span of seconds. Emergencies that someone, anyone would be powerless to try and stop...

Except for him. Even in the most extreme of circumstances, someone of his abilities was more than capable of trying to prevent as many human casualties as possible. And before today, he had dabbled in trying to lend a hand to whoever needed it. Going back to when he was thirteen and beginning to feel his powers manifest, Clark had actually secretly been visiting areas of impending disaster for some time. Always in the background, just out of sight of watchful eyes and camera feeds. Trying to be as careful as possible as he moved certain obstacles out of the way, or grabbed a person in danger and placed them just shy from being killed. Part of him had wondered if he had any right to interfere, whether it was his place to do what was needed.

But the simple fact of the matter was that it was needed. Even his parents understood, whenever he'd been forced to admit to them what he'd been doing after coming home with his clothes singed from a fire or his school belongings missing, having left them behind to perform a so-called miracle save. No one had ever really spotted him, and he kept to himself so carefully that few had any reason to believe they had been helped by anything more than luck or divine intervention. Still, Clark had never felt like he had done enough. His need for anonymity had constantly put him at odds with his own beliefs in what was right. If he weren't so afraid of revealing his powers to the world and how the world would collectively look at him, this mild-mannered stranger that had somehow been given gifts that science had yet to be able to explain, Clark had long-since fantasized about the idea of being able to save as many people as he could every day.

But he knew that the world was more complicated than that. He knew that if he openly tried to do something to stop disasters and prevent even petty crime, the world would fear him, and that fear would eventually turn to hatred. And the truth was that ever since he had gotten these powers, all Clark had ever wanted was to be seen as normal. To have friends and to make a life for himself where he was never perceived as anything more than anybody else.

So he'd taken to wearing the glasses. To dressing himself down, to making his hair a little unkempt all the time. It was what little he could do to ensure that he'd never stood out. The tint of his glasses' lenses helped to hide the radiant blue that his irises had developed into. The hair had always maintained a slightly unnatural sheen to it, like it wasn't the result of human genetics. And as far as his physique went, well, Clark had to admit: he'd never needed to hit the gym in his life. These were all qualities that he couldn't help, but with time and practice, he could hide them effectively enough.

Now, though? None of that felt important. Even his running speed seemed to pick up from a practiced normality to something slightly above the norm as he bolted across the next block, his anxiety picking up over the thoughts of what was happening closer to where Lois and Jimmy were still standing. It hadn't even occurred to him that something was necessarily attacking until he'd made it about a block and a half away. His eyes fixated on the buildings ahead, Clark immediately lowered his glasses and squinted - well, focused - on what he could see once his vision cycled past the solid matter. Another one of his gifts at work.

But he was a few precious seconds too late.

"Oh my God, it's heading the overpass! Run! Run!"

Clark's eyes widened as he finally saw what was happening. Just above where Lois' car had been parked, there was an overpass full of emptied cars. The reason being that their former occupants had gotten out to see what was happening with the plant explosion. Now they were all trying to climb over themselves in a panic because an object had been seen rocketing through the air and coming straight towards them... in the unmistakable shape of a small missile.

No...

Before he could even flinch, the missile hit with a deafening boom. The overpass immediately splintered with heavy cracks, and bodies went flying through the air. Without a second's hesitation, Clark moved toward the overpass as soon as he saw that there were still people in the cars under it. He had been too late to save the ones above, as some were already visibly dead, but if he moved quickly enough - he hoped, with every possible prayer that he had - he might be able to prevent others from befalling a similar fate. Clark didn't know where the missile had come from yet, and he didn't care. Removing his glasses and tossing them aside, all he knew was that it was time to stop hiding. The world could hate and fear him later.

"STAND CLEAR!"

Leaping into the air and crossing over several coming vehicles in a single bound, Clark reached the middle of the overpass' undertow and lodged himself under the rapidly collapsing concrete, pressing himself as hard as possible against it. The collapse briefly slowed down, but even with his admittedly untested reservoir of strength, it wasn't enough. The enormous structure was bearing down against him, and he felt his legs buckle into the street below - and as crucial seconds went by, slowly through it.

Please, just...



...hold...

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

So, out of curiosity, which Nick Fury is it leading S.H.I.E.L.D.? Being that there are obviously a lot of feelings on who should be who, can we just say that it's the option that makes literally no-one happy?

@mattmanganon

It wouldn't be a pre-existing version.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

I agree to that and that was the plan. I tried to make Slade into more of a hero or at least an anti-hero based on the changes I made to him. So he still kills people, but only bad guys or people that mess with his family. But yeah, I agree to Slade not being a villain or strictly amoral character.

@Theyra

Very well. In that case...

Deathstroke by @Theyra

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Ignore @Sep, he hit his head.

At least that's what his family is used to saying as an excuse.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Deathstroke

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

DEATHSTROKE

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^{"Do not mess with my family"}

^{_{SLADE JOSEPH WILSON ♦ MERCENARY/BOUNTY HUNTER ♦ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA}}

O R I G I N S:

---

Slade Wilson had a rough life growing up, abused by his father and abandoned by his mother. Slade, rather than endure this abuse any longer and having worked up the courage, he would run away from home and never look back. He would eventually end up in the care of an old couple who took him in after they discovered him near their home. There, rather than abuse him, they would treat him like their own child and would raise him well, and Slade vowed never to like his father. When he came of age, Slade decided to join the military.

Slade did very well in the army, proving to be a capable soldier, and would meet others and befriend other soldiers and even marry a fellow soldier, Adeline Kane. They would later have a son together named Grant. Slade would later be assigned to a covert team named Team 7, where they would first take the name Deathstroke from himself. However, the team would fail and be later disbanded after a mission gone wrong. Later, Slade would volunteer for an experimental procedure that the US hoped would make a supersoldier. Only he survived, and he would, after recovery, test his newfound limits and deal with criminals. When he was arrested a month later, Adeline gave him an ultimatum, continue this new behavior or his family, and Slade would choose his family. However, when he was approached by a member of his old team, William Walsh came to him about a job dealing with a scientist who if allowed to testify to Congress about the supersoldier experiment. It would place his family in the crosshairs, and he would be offered a million dollars for the job. He accepted and lied to Adeline about the true nature of his leaving. Slade would be given what would be his signature suit.

The job would succeed, and when Slade returned home, a suspicious Adeline questioned him about where he was. Which grew into an argument, and he would give in and tell Adeline the truth. This truth ended their marriage, which devastated Slade. This was made worse when he found out that William lied to him and that he and his family would have been fine despite the scientist's testimony. Now filled with guilt and remorse over his actions. Slade, after a long time of thinking, decided on a new path for himself. While he would support himself as a bounty hunter and mercenary. However, he would be selective and only choose jobs that aligned with his morals. Slade is committed to getting revenge on William and finding out who he was really working for. As Slade would discover, finding William and who he really works for is just the beginning.

S A M P L E P O S T:

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It has been a long day for Slade as he entered to his hideout, one of several. It was a dark and rainy night, and Slade could hear the rain fall on the old roof of his hideout. An old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, which Slade made sure was safe enough for him to operate from and out of view.

Another bounty, another job done. He thought to himself as he walked over to bed and sat down on it. Even if this bounty was a piece of trash and seemed like an easy jig. This bounty, Micheal Cole, was more of a problem than he thought. But, at the end of the day, Michael is behind bars, and he gets his payday. Still, at least now he can rest a bit and relax after a hard day's work.

As Slade slowly took off his armor and weapons, starting with his helmet. When his hand reached for his belt, Slade, for a moment, as if by instinct, reached for the hidden compartment in his armor and took out the photo of him with his family. At that moment, everything seemed to slow, and small tears started to form on his face. He messed up, that is clear, and he trusted the wrong person, and now the thing he cared for the most hates him. Slade's saddened voice spoke that single name, "Adeline," and then another, "Grant." Though he felt like crying, he knew he should not right now and calmed himself. However, his feelings remain the same. Slade does not know if he can reconcile with Adeline and be a family again, but that is something he will think about once he is done with William.

Anger slowly replaced sadness as Slade thought of that name. The man he thought he would trust ended up lying to him, and it cost him his family. Slade is not one to kill civilians or innocents, and he did so on a lie. He put the photo back in its hidden compartment and put his gear away. However, he kept his pistol and knife on his. Now in his civilian clothes, Slade walked over to his desk and accessed it in short order. Checking his bank account, and now, with his new funds, it is time to continue his mission. Find William Walsh and find out who he works for, and get revenge.

As Slade started his research, his encrypted phone rang, and it was someone he could trust. Someone who was also tricked by Walsh. Slade answered in a calm tone, "What is it, Wintergreen?"

Hearing that familiar British accent, "Slade, I have good news. I got a lead on Walsh."

Slade smiled in a way he had not done in a long time, "Wintergreen, tell me everything."

P O S T C A T A L O G:

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A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

@Theyra

Just to be clear, we aren't accepting explicitly villainous characters. If someone applies for one, the expectation is that they're being molded to a more heroic or anti-heroic alignment, IE. Wolverine and The Punisher. A strictly amoral character would have to be reserved as an NPC. So if you want to play Slade with that condition, we can agree to letting him in.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

An MB One Universe game and a brother doesn't even get tagged? Cold world.

@Morden Man

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Meanwhile I'm over here playing two different characters who have been around for over a century. I did not understand the assignment.

@AndyC

That's just a given with Logan, and as for Ghost Rider... that concept is so good it transcends any game perimeters. That shit is quite literally fire.