Supermaxx

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

Oh, what's that? Is that a Maxx post? Fuck yeah it is

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

_{SEASON THREE Justice Rising}

SUPERBOY: GODBORN #3 Serene

---

_{The Acropolis ♦ Unknown}

Superboy's mind went dark and quiet, like he was sitting in a theater and the commercials had just ended. He felt an urge to turn off the cellphone he didn't own.

A flurry of light broke the darkness by piercing his retinas. A hundred lines, infinite in length and color, burrowed so deep into his skull that he wondered if he could ever get them out. Each line reverberated with its own, unique sound, brilliant in its construction and infatuating in its brilliance. He couldn't possibly explain what he was hearing to any sane person. How did one describe the sound of yellow? It was like the dull hum of a dead neon sign, or the buzzing of a congested bee.

He couldn't expect anyone else to understand. They couldn't hear a pin drop in the other room. Couldn't count the snowflakes in a blizzard. Couldn't feel a breeze brush against someone else's face. Some of the researchers he talked to marveled at it, claiming he was lucky to have such a gift- but what'd it matter if he didn't have anyone to share it with?

The mind machine's startup process ended almost as abruptly as it began, the light snuffed out and darkness allowed to creep back in to fill its place. The dark was different now, though, because Superboy could move in it. Even if he couldn't see anything, he still had control.

'Where to go this time...' He mused, mentally unfurling a picture catalog of every place he'd ever visited, seen or conjured up from the depths of his imagination. It wasn't exactly a premium selection, considering the furthest he'd ever been from his bedroom was the other side of the compound. There were a few that managed to catch his eye.

For whatever reason sound always manifested before anything visual. Less data for his noggin to load, he supposed. It meant that, for a few, short microseconds, he was able to hear a robin harmonizing with a nearby brook, and the sound of wind passing through leaves. All of it came into view shortly after. Superboy was standing beside a stream flowing down a sparsely wooded hillside, one of his feet partially submerged in the water. He didn't notice until he caught sight of it- the simulation updating to provide the sensation of water running over his boot. He didn't step out of it; instead he held it there, waiting until he felt it seep through the material. It made the inside of his shoe squish when he stepped back. It was as obnoxious as it was wonderful.

"Playing in the water, are we?" Doctor Spence asked from just behind him. She was sitting on a large rock that hadn't been there previously, one leg crossed over the other. She didn't look up from the notes she was penning in her lap when she spoke.

Superboy looked back over his shoulder with a halfhearted grin. "Not something I can do every day."

"There's a sink in your bathroom."

His smile dropped and he turned away from her. "Yeah. Guess so."

An uncomfortable silence followed, filled only by the artificial sounds of nature. If he concentrated, he could just barely make out the buzzing of the lights that formed the building blocks of everything around them. It was the only thing he could hear when he tried to focus on the brook, the trees or the birds.

He wondered if the real thing had its own background noise. Surely, if it did, it'd be a chorus of whole, new sounds. Perhaps there was no buzzing at all. What did the wind, isolated all on its own, sound like, without the imperfections of audio recording devices, or the hum of distant machinery to obscure it.

Spence was the one to speak up first, her voice cutting and authoritative even here: "How have you been feeling since the test?"

"Fine, I guess." He shrugged, "Tired. Healing's tiring."

"How tired?" She probed, a brow raised. "You tend to bounce back from these tests quickly."

"First one that's really made me sweat, if we're bein' fair."

Spence jotted something down and offered up a minute smirk. "And since our last session? Has anything changed?"

Chewing on his cheek as he chewed on the question, Superboy took a moment to answer. And when he did he spoke slowly, choosing his words with care, "Nothing too important." He could feel a spark in the back of his head, like someone was poking him with a live wire. A sound followed it, too, not unlike the popping of static electricity.

It was the machine's way of telling on him every time he lied. There was no great reaction from the doctor, but Superboy could see a slight twitch near the corner of her mouth. She was quiet, like usual. She was waiting, like every other time he'd heard that sound. He knew for a fact that nothing was going to happen until he gave her what she wanted.

"I've been...gettin' stronger, I guess. Lot stronger, lot faster, than before. Packard's been sayin' that if I keep it up-" the words caught in the back of his throat as he felt that stinging at the base of his skull again. It was a little harsher now. Not enough to be truly painful, but there was noticeable discomfort in his expression as he shifted how he stood.

And again he stopped to think.

"Y'know that was true, right?" He grunted, annoyed. "I mean, how's that thing s'posed to know when I'm lying, anyway? What even is a lie? Does it go off my subjective interpretation of the truth, or yours, or is there some sorta complex algorithm based on my heart rate and breathing that-"

"-Answer the question, Subject Thirteen." Spence stopped him, glaring at him from behind iced over glasses.

Superboy kept his back to her as he bent down by the stream, reaching into it to pluck out a stone smooth enough to skip. He gave it a toss and it sunk straight to the bottom, much to his chagrin. It looked a lot easier on paper. "Don't know how to."

No shock followed, this time. Spence shifted how she sat, uncrossing one of her legs and letting the clipboard and pen fall down onto her lap, hands resting on top of one another. "Where did you see this place? I haven't been to every part of the Acropolis but I'm fairly confident we don't have a room like this."

"Um...A magazine. Picture in a magazine."

"And where did you get that?"

His jaw tightened, and he stood back up to his full height. "It was given to me."

"By who?" Spence snapped.

"Why's that matter?" Superboy shot back. He turned halfway around to look at her, that sting in his head growing sharper and louder.

"Answer the quest-"

"Its just a stupid magazine, who cares?!" He hadn't noticed it, but his voice had been getting louder and louder as they spoke.

Doctor Spence stopped. She was staring daggers into him, a hand clutched tight 'round the board on her lap. There was an ever so slight quiver on her lip yet her voice was as icy and controlled as ever. "I need you to answer my questions, Thirteen, so that the test may continue."

"It was Tana, alright?!" Superboy was shouting now as he took a step toward the doctor. "I was bored out of my mind and I asked her to get me something to read, and she stole some...stupid tech mag from the staff lounge for me. It doesn't matter, I'll give it back if you want, but I don't see why you care-"

"-You had one of our staff steal something for you and you thought that unimportant?" Spence couldn't help herself but scoff.

Superboy returned it, throwing an arm up in the air. "She said nobody'd even notice, none of you ever pick those things up. She figured, y'know, it wasn't a big deal-"

"-whose idea was it to-"

"-and it isn't a big deal, its more ads than content, really, and even the content is basically just ads too-"

"Whose idea was it, Thirteen?" Spence repeated, unwilling to raise her voice to match his. He stopped trying to talk over her, exasperation coloring his every movement as he started to pace around beside the projected stream.

"Mine, I guess?" He rubbed the back of his head, thoroughly annoyed by the sharp, consistent pain. "Maybe ours would be more accurate." He tried to correct to dissipate the psychic feedback, to no avail.

Spence cocked her head to the side, picking up her pen once again. "How close would you say you are to miss Westfield?"

He shrugged. "What's close mean? I don't exactly have a lotta friends here."

"Ah, so she's a friend?"

"Is she? I'unno, Doc, ask her." Superboy turned away again.

Spence began to write something down. "And...when did this start? How long after our last session?"

Superboy threw up his hands. "Don't remember! We say hi when we pass each other, she talks to me like, y'know- not at me. Maybe, I'unno, I like that- sue me."

"And you think you deserve that?"

"What?" Superboy stopped, glancing back at her. "Deserve what, doc, huh?"

Spence didn't answer, pressing on through the clone's incredulous look with another question. "Do you think this relationship has anything to do with what happened in the test chamber?"

Every inch of Superboy tensed up, like someone had stretched him taut until every single muscle was near its breaking point. His head was low, eyes locked on the flowing water down at his feet and his ears tuned to the sound of a million photons of light buzzing and humming all around him. It was such a stupid question- one so stupid he wondered if it really deserved to be answered. Of course, he'd have to answer eventually. That was how this thing worked. She asked him questions, he answered. Some, growing part of him wondered what would happen if he just kept his mouth shut.

He went to speak, only to pause when he noticed Spence look up and into the horizon. Her mouth was moving yet no words were coming out, and the coolness that usually colored her expression was rapidly melting into concern. Superboy couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her look concerned, so he felt somewhat justified in the spark of panic in his chest.

"Uhh, Doctor Spence? What's going on?" He eventually deigned to ask, afraid he'd crossed a line.

"There's been an incident." She answered, glancing between him and something he couldn't see beyond the simulation.

"An incident? What kind of incident?"

Spence stood up, a wave of darkness washing over the scene as she did. "The only kind of incident that gets our attention, Thirteen. Metahumans."

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread

<Snipped quote by SleepingSilence>

@ComradeMaxx is the only one I know of that's played it. But I guess he liked it since he's had Hollow Knight avatars for awhile.

@Kuro

its okay i guess

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

_{SEASON THREE Justice Rising}

SUPERBOY: GODBORN #2 Lab Rat in Spandex

---

_{The Acropolis ♦ Unknown}

Hot water hit Superboy's face, diluting the blood that lingered on it. Streams of red contoured 'round bare muscle and ran down the length of his body. They pooled together at his feet, sticking stubbornly to the drain. There was something soothing about showering after a particularly brutal fight. The steam purged his pores of toxins. The heat was energizing, intoxicating. Even the sting of water splashing on bruised, naked flesh had a certain appeal one could not rationally explain.

It, much like Superboy himself, simply was.

He went for a second lathering of soap, rubbing it up along his arms and down each leg, whistling a tune as he did. The jaunty song helped him ignore the camera burning a hole in the back of his head. Someone was always watching him, no matter where he was or what he was doing. While he was in his room, while he was sleeping, while he was relieving himself- there was always a glass eye staring at him, unblinking. It was just as much a part of normal life as breakfast, or breathing.

It was all part of that science experiment he was supposed to be part of. He'd spent his whole life being watched and prodded and poked in this same place. They called it the Acropolis. Claimed it was the most advanced R&D facility on the planet. It made the work sound very important, at least in his mind. The company that owned the place was called CADMUS; they provided the actual scientists that worked on him.

Their tests usually weren't as brutal as that last one. Bruises were a new sensation, and he couldn't recall ever blacking out before today. He couldn't hold back that creeping feeling that things weren't going to get any easier after this, either.

He leaned an arm against the wall, his head held down to let the water run down the back of his head. His wild, black hair fell down around his face, matted and soaking wet. Eyes snapping shut, he steeled himself against his thoughts, rebuking his doubts outright: 'What am I saying, I'm friggin' Superboy! I can handle a couple'a stupid tests. I was built for this.'

Once he was squeaky clean he stepped out of the shower and into the larger locker room, where he found his costume hung on the wall. It was nearly as beaten and battered as he was: the knees, elbows, and sections around the abdomen had to be patched up with black material that didn't at all match the suit's red, yellow and blue. The stylized S Supergirl had plucked from his chest had been stitched back on, too. It was better than nothing.

Immediately outside the locker room door, the space expanded and the tiled floor gave way to the sterile tiles of a laboratory. Gangs of labcoat-wearing techs occupied rows and rows of machinery too complex for Superboy's understanding. He recognized most of them, having seen their faces every day for the last five months, but he only knew a handful of names.

There was Carl, the bald-headed doctor that monitored Superboy's development and ensured he'd grow big and grow. And then there was Tana, the daughter of CADMUS's head honcho and one of the many assistants assisting the experts on the project. Dr. Spence was there, too. She was the one that poked around inside his head. When Dr. Westfield wasn't around- which was most of the time- she was the one that called the shots. He felt his heart rate quicken when she started barking orders at random lab workers.

Tana was the first one to notice him enter and she stalked over to greet him. She was a head shorter than him and several grades lighter, but she walked like someone thrice her size. Talked like it, too. "Well, you look...better. Less like we just wheeled you out of the morgue."

"Ah, you know me. Too stubborn to stay dead, y'know?" He smirked.

She just shook her head and turned to walk deeper into the laboratory, Superboy following her lead. They moved to near the back of the room, where a gaggle of eggheads were gathered around a metal throne. Wiring and piping ran from the chair and into nearby machines, pumping some unknown, inky fluid into it and filtering something else out. Superboy felt his palms itch as Tana peeled away to go work on something, leaving him to approach and take a seat on his own.

It was unnaturally cool to the touch. Tiny ridges covered the steel surface, and there was no obvious sign of rivets or bolts holding it together. Most of the nearby machines and computers were connected to it, a constant stream of information traveling between them.

The moment his arms came to rest on the sides of throne he found he could no longer move them. Some, unseen force far stronger than he was holding him down. He didn't panic. Not like the first few times. Much as he hated to be restricted, Superboy understood what was happening- if not why it had to be this way.

Somebody walked forward with a wicked needle in one hand and a oddly shaped device in the other. It was round-ish, with a small hole in the center, and covered in blinking lights. She pressed the strange tool against the inside of Superboy's neck, shoving his head upward without a care for how it felt.

He felt remarkably vulnerable with the cool metal against his skin, as if some form of protection was peeled away by its presence. She plunged the syringe through the center hole and the needle hit flesh, though it did not pierce it. A motor on the back had to be flipped on, turning the needle into a veritable jackhammer. It had to break through the skin, layer by layer, for several minutes before the needle tasted blood. A sizeable sample was extracted through the process, painful as it was, and the assistant looked satisfied by the result.

"You're welcome," He muttered as she walked away, rubbing a hand against his puncture wound. It'd scar over in a couple of minutes, small as it was. Didn't mean it hurt any less.

She handed the syringe off to Dr. Packard for inspection. He frowned at the sight of the device, quickly plugging it into his work station so the computer could get to work. Blood contained a wealth of data on the body, especially when one knew how to decipher and make sense of all of it. After waiting several moments for the process to finish, he spoke up in a raspy voice: "Subject's genome is stable, no sign of mutation since our last check," He called over his shoulder. "Muscle density increased in regions where it was torn by his injuries. The subject...appears to be perfectly healthy."

Superboy could hear Tana give a quiet sigh of relief from somewhere outside his vision. He could hear the clicking of heels against tiled floor behind him, too, the sound growing louder as it approached him. He had to crane his neck toward the noise to see its source, his eyes connecting with the icy gaze of Dr. Spence. She didn't look too pleased by the news, not that it surprised him. She never smiled. Superboy wasn't even sure she could.

"Its not Thirteen's physical health that I am worried about, Packard." Spence didn't break eye contact as she spoke about him to the other doctor, her fingers tracing along his arm as she slowly moved around to stand straight in front of him. She leaned in close, close enough for her breath to brush against his face. One, long finger came to rest against his forehead. "Its what's going on in here that I care about." She said, her voice low, menacing.

A single bead of sweat ran down Superboy's face.

"Not, uh, sure what you mean." He giggled, a nervous edge laced in it. "I'm not stupid if that's what you're sayin'."

"That is what I mean. You were never meant to do that."

Superboy gave her a look, clearly not understanding what she was going on about.

"Talk back," Spence grunted, annoyed. "You've deviated from your template. Yet for God knows what reason my esteemed colleagues don't seem at all concerned about your flagrant disregard for authority." The mood shifted like a chill had passed through an open window. Any chatter came to an abrupt end, as if the whole room had stopped to hear what happened next. Somebody at the other end of the lab stifled a cough and caught a punch in the arm for it.

"I, however, am very concerned."

The doctor signaled for them to begin. Mechanisms within the throne began to turn. Its top slid open, allowing a crown of thousand tangled wires to rise up from inside it. Spence reached forward and guided it over Subject 13's head. The band bent and melded itself to fit tight around the boy's skull. The crown hissed and sparked. A horrible pressure began to build in his hippocampus, like someone had wrapped a hand around that part of his brain and squeezed.

A chair was rolled up for Spence to sit on, an assistant- Tana- handing her a clipboard and pen. She went to work filling out the necessary information before they could begin their session. "You already know how this goes. I'm going to ask you a series of questions and you're going to answer them honestly. If the machine feels you lying it will induce psychic feedback. Are you ready to begin?"

A sinking feeling gnawed at Superboy's gut, accompanied by but a single thought: 'I don't think she liked my joke.'

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

LOOK AT THE RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

@Roman

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

_{SEASON THREE Justice Rising}

SUPERBOY: GODBORN #1 Home Sweet Home

---

_{The Acropolis ♦ Unknown}

Superboy strut down the hallway, the sound of a thousand screaming fans thundering in his ears. They were chanting his name, 'Superboy! Superboy!', over and over again, growing louder with each successive cry. Anticipation filled his chest as he looked down at his hands, staring wide-eyed at the boxing gloves that covered them. He'd give them a show they'd never forget; remind them all why he held the title.

The doors to the ring opened and an overwhelmingly bright light swept over him.

The Ring's name was more than fitting. It was a large, circular chamber, its paneled walls a sterile white. Intense lights shown down from a vaulted ceiling, so acute that it hurt to look up. The room was empty, save for a single soul waiting for HIM just inside the entrance. He was a tall man in grey fatigues, a tablet in one hand and a remote in the other. He gave Superboy a smile. "Feeling good today, are we?"

"Good n' ready to kick some tail, Jimmy." Superboy proclaimed, holding his arms out in front of him. The gloves were gone, replaced by a pair of heavy steel spheres wrapped around each hand and joined together by a thick bar. Impact-absorbing jelly sloshed around inside the spheres as they were moved around.

"Glad to hear it, Kid." Jim Harper lifted the remote in his hand toward the manacles and waved it around in the air. Something inside both devices clicked, and the specially-designed shackles loosed around Superboy's wrists and dropped to the floor with a clatter. Superboy flicked his hands at a few hundred miles per hour to get all the lingering jelly off of them.

With slow, deliberate pokes to the screen Harper punched a series of codes into the linked computer system, shutting the only visible entrance to the chamber. He spent the next few minutes running through a diagnostics check, and then double and triple checking it, ensuring the session would run smoothly without interruption. The consequences of mucking this sort of thing up were all too familiar to him. "Take a minute to stretch while I figure this dumb thing out. We don't want you pulling any muscles during a session again, alright?"

Superboy nodded and wandered a few feet away to comply with the order, initiating some basic warm up techniques. Reaching down to place a palm flat on the floor was easy task, the costume clinging to his lightly-built form offering no resistance at all. The suit was fashioned to mimic the one worn by his original template, though obviously it'd been improved: the cape was gone, Thank God, the boots were a sturdier black leather and a holster pouch hung 'round his right hip in lieu of adding pockets. Pockets never looked good on spandex.

As he arched his back and stuck his arms into the sky, Superboy paused partway through to stare at the back wall, and the sheet of one-way glass running along the top of the Ring.

Behind it, on the monitoring deck, a half dozen specialized technicians were operating the holoprojection matrix under the watchful eye of the science team. Each of the scientists manned a different station, their terminals displaying rivers of data floating before them in interactive holograms. A black woman in a white coat and round rim glasses stood on an elevated platform overlooking the rest of the deck like a steely captain commanding their ship. Her icy gaze just crossing over a man's back was enough to get him to quicken his pace.

"Dr. Spence? You may want to see this." Dr. Packard, a rotund man with a balding head and a bushy mustache, called her name, motioning wildly for her attention. Once she deigned to offer it and moved behind him, Packard pointed to the screen in front of them. There, a silhouette marked 'Subject 13' showed dozens of sensors sewn into the subject's suit feeding data to the computer in real time.

It took Spence a moment to parse the information, but her expression noticeably shifted once she understood what she was looking at. "These readings are-"

"-Extraordinary!" Packard cut her off in his excitement. "Its only been a day since his last check-in and his telekinetic field is already 150% more efficient. None of the previous versions come even close to this level of growth. If Superboy maintains these rates consistent, he may even surpass-"

A hand coming to rest on Packard's shoulder was enough to shut his mouth. Spence didn't need to verbalize the meaning of the gesture for her colleague to understand it. She stood quietly for a few moments, chewing on what she'd learned. The excitement the rest of the team showed was palpable, but her steadfast grimace never faltered. There were risks here that the others refused to see, too blinded by their faith in Westfield's alleged genius to be objective. It was up to Amanda to keep a steady head. To make actual progress with Project Kr instead of resting on what they'd done so far like the rest of them did.

"Today's opponent will provide ample opportunity for Subject Thirteen to prove itself," She finally broke the silence. Stepping away from Packard, she crossed the room in long, brisk strides, coming to a stop at the window. "...Tana, is the session ready?"

At hearing her name Tana's head popped out from behind a pair of technicians at their computers, too short to be easily seen before. She exchanged a quick word with them to confirm the status of the program, firing a thumbs up in Spence's direction once she had it. "Program S is loaded in, just give us the go ahead."

"I'll inform Thirteen," Spence nodded, "Look alive, people."

---

He was back in the center of the ring, the audience chanting his name. Tonight was a full house, not a single seat unoccupied. A mass of faceless people, writhing and jittering in uncontrollable excitement. They'd just finished playing his walkout song. The announcer's voice sprang from a loudspeaker somewhere high above Superboy, giving a triumphant introduction to the Boy of Steel, the heavyweight champion of the world- no, the galaxy! Not a soul had come close to taking the belt from him: a fact that kept Superboy bubbling with confidence. The announcer's voice sounded strangely like Doctor Spence, but little thought was given too it. He was too busy basking in the love of his fans to notice.

He began prancing around the ring, giving wide, arcing motions for the crowd to get louder. So thunderous were they that he could scarcely hear himself think. It felt like the very ground was reverberating with their cries.

Jumping up to the top rope, his arms held out wide, he drank it in, as an emaciated dog might lap up water. Emboldened by their cheers he looked to the opposite door where his opponent would soon enter the arena, and called out to them in a loud voice, "Who the hell do you think you are steppin' up to me?!"

The cheering came to an abrupt end. A gust of wind blew away the crowd, leaving Superboy alone.

Darkness swept over the stands, leaving only the lights above the ring itself light. A series of spotlights began to turn on one after the other, tracing along the entrance ramp to the steps that led up to the fighting mat.

Apprehension suddenly formed like bile in his throat. Superboy leaned forward, squinting his eyes as he stared at the doors. They crept open and a rush of fog filled the room, sweeping out to cover the whole of the floor. A human shadow appeared in the billows, the shape of a cape flowing back behind it.

"What the fu-"

And Supergirl fed the clone his teeth.

The punch knocked Superboy out of his daydream and sent him skipping like a rock across a pond, bouncing three times on the sterile, white floor until he came to a violent stop against the far wall. An indent was left in the metal when he peeled off it and fell back to the ground in a disheveled heap. The sudden sucker punch left him dazed but not down as he pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his glove.

She was hovering less than a foot off the ground, near the center of the room where Superboy had been standing a moment before, flicking a bit of his blood off her shoulder. There was no discernible expression on her face, no evidence that she gave a damn about the creature she'd just brutalized; only the apathetic resolve of a god stepping on an ant resided there.

For his part, Superboy managed to maintain a modicum of his dignity by shooting a cocky grin her way. "Didn't expect it to be you. Didn't expect you to hit that hard, either. Guess I won't go easy on you, even if you are my templa-"

The Kryptonian vanished from sight, only to reappear right on top of Superboy with a hand wrapping around his throat. He never stood a chance at dodging her hand. The damn thing moved faster than he could even see, smashing into his Adam's apple with the force of a bullet train. She lifted Superboy up off his feet, slamming his back into the wall three consecutive times. Jolts of pain shot up along his spine. Screaming in agony wasn't even possible with how tight she was holding on to him.

They locked eyes for the longest second of his life.

Superboy brought his hands together over his head and bashed them repeatedly against Supergirl's wrist. Each one fell in quick succession. He counted eighty seven over the course of a few seconds before her fingers budged even slightly. Just enough for him to weasel out of her grip and leap away from her.

"What've you been feeding her, Venom? Christ, she hits like a truck! Big one, too." He yelled between long breaths, taking a moment to recover what energy he could. He'd fought these programs near every day for the past five months and not a single one of them compared to this one in speed and strength. "There's no way the real deal's this tough-"

The speaker system buzzed to life, casting the voice of Dr. Spence over the Ring. "We do not have the equipment to properly simulate her upper limits. This is the Supergirl at half strength and you are failing miserably, Subject Thirteen."

He froze.

She was lying. Had to be. There was no way she was this strong, no way anyone was twice this strong. He could bench press a tank without a sweat and this poor facsimile of her was tossing him around like a toddler stuck in a wet paper bag. And her speed...A few weeks ago Superboy caught a bullet with twizzers on a dare, and he couldn't so much as see her when she rushed him. How the hell did CADMUS expect him of all people to match her?

Spence pressed down the speaker button and offered but two, commanding words upon seeing him hesitate. "Subject, attack."

He was moving before another thought could register, hands balled into fists. Supergirl left the ground to meet him. She landed an uppercut into his abdomen that shook his very core, but when she came around with a hook to finish him off she found an arm in her path. Even deflecting a blow made Superboy's bones ache in agony, but he was forced to continue his attack. He had been commanded. Compliance was mandatory.

A lightning-quick flurry of jabs impacted against her shoulders, arms and upper body. Wild though they might appear to an onlooker, Superboy was probing her defenses, looking for opening where he could slip in an important blow as Harper had taught him. His opponent didn't seem nearly as well trained, her movements were impossibly quick yet basic, predictable. If he could just get her to shift her block...

There! Short though the window of opportunity was he leapt to take it, a fist barreling passed her guard and impacting against her cheek. A loud clap of air followed it after a beat, the sound barrier breaking with the speed of the successful blow. There was faint cheering somewhere up and behind Superboy.

Actual, not-his-imagination cheering.

Supergirl touched her cheek, rubbing at the scuff mark his knuckles had made. It hurt enough to give her pause and make her stumble- something a moment ago he would've thought impossible. Any sense of elation that came from that was cut short before it even had a microsecond to register as she came at him again with renewed savagery.

It could've been four hits or forty for all he knew. Her hands moved too quick for the pain to even register, led alone slow enough to count the successive blows that rocketed into the clone's body and face. Each one sent him reeling yet she pursued all the same, at one point reaching out to pluck Superboy from the air when one of her attacks hit so hard his feet left the floor.

His cheek tore open first, the fabric and flesh around his ribs following swiftly after. Every inch of his body was either bruised, aching or bloodied, with several parts feeling all three at once. Superboy teetered on his feet, too dazed to know what was going on, until a final, light push placed him on his back.

White noise filled his ears. And his head.

The loudspeaker split the air with an obnoxious start, and Spence began to speak again.

"If you can't get up you may as well die and stop wasting our time."

Superboy rolled onto his stomach with a groan, but he didn't rise. His arms had given out on him.

"Did that last order get your broken skull? Get up, Subject 13."

There was no reply, so she sounded the speaker again.

"Comply."

It took a great deal of effort on his part, but Thirteen managed to wiggle his arms underneath his battered form. Taking several, long breaths he attempted to push himself up via his elbows, only getting so far as sliding his knees along the floor before he collapsed again. "I can't." Superboy wheezed, coughing up a chunk of red viscera. "She's too..."

Amanda cut him off, addressing Supergirl instead. "Finish it. Its of no more use to us like this."

Supergirl took a step forward, flipping him over with her boot and placing it on the clone's chest with the intent to cave it in.

"Stop this madness!" A voice snarled from across the room. Jim Harper came marching into the Ring, a hard grimace set upon his face as he approached the two supers. There were calls of protest from the monitoring deck but he didn't react, moving right through the projection of Supergirl and kneeling down to check on the boy.

He offered Harper a pitiful thumbs up.

"He's barely able to breath led alone fight!" He yelled in protest over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around to stare up at lone window. It didn't need to be two-way for him to know who he was staring daggers into.

Spence cleared her throat. "You're interfering with our work, Harper. We were gathering valuable data from this encounter-"

"Like hell you were, you're going to kill him!"

"I can't kill something that's barely even alive, Captain, now move. You don't have authority in this matter and the Board will not take kindly to your actions." A less-than-veiled threat that everyone listening could recognize, save the boy stuck on his stomach. He likely couldn't recognize his own reflection at the moment.

There was a long, tense period of silence before Harper stepped out of the way.

Supergirl moved through him and reached down to pluck Superboy off the floor, holding him to his feet by his shirt. She slapped him across the face hard enough to send him reeling back to the ground, tearing his suit in the process. The sound of a winding down engine came from somewhere above them and Supergirl faded from existence, the S she'd torn off of Superboy now falling to the floor in a crumpled ball.

As his vision began to darken, Superboy imagined himself lying on mat of a boxing ring. It was quiet, and he was alone.

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

The Boy of Steel

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

^{_{S U B J E C T 1 3 ♦ S U P E R H E R O ♦ T H E A C R O P O L I S ♦ C A D M U S}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

---

^{"What's the 'S' stand for? It stands for 'stick it where the sun don't shine', pal, now buzz off. I got a world to save."}

Superboy grew up in a bottle, the scientists sticking needles in his arm the closest thing he ever had to family. They kept him isolated in a research facility tucked away at the edge of the world, shielded from eyes that may deign to pry- they called it the Acropolis. It was here that the scientists at CADMUS did their best work, particularly in the field of genetics.

CADMUS and its founder, Dr. Westfield, had always believed the solutions to the world's biggest problems lay in metahumans. Their extraordinary biology and unimaginable power made them a near limitless source of advancement, if it could be properly tapped. In recent years progress on that front has accelerated so dramatically that they believe they're on the verge of a breakthrough, thanks to the efforts of Project Kr's development team.

Project Kr is CADMUS's attempt to create an artificial lifeform with DNA samples acquired from the being in Metropolis the press was calling Supergirl. Though they were working with precious little material and on a tight timetable, the Kr team has done near miraculous work in bringing Westfield's vision to life.

The latest iteration of Kr is Subject 13, affectionately nicknamed 'Superboy' by the science team. He took remarkably well to the strenuous regime of testing, training and study they put up for him, lasting longer and performing better than any of his previous versions. The only quirk of his rapid development seems to be his forming a distinctive personality all his own- an aberration not found in previous clones. Some concern has been raised by Dr. Spence but her calls for caution have been overshadowed by the subject's overwhelming progress.

Things are going so well Doctor Westfield is even considering beginning field performance tests...

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

---

Superboy has always been a favorite character of mine, but I've never gotten the opportunity to properly write for him before now. For this game I'm going to be taking the character back to his 90s roots: back when he was a badmouthing punk in tights and a leather jacket. The foundation for his origin story will remain mostly the same, too, with him being a clone created by Cadmus, though I have made some minor alterations to make things more engaging.

Where we'll break from the canon is with some of the characters being different, like Tana Moon and Amanda Spence, and the direction which the story will take. There's no Death of Superman to motivate Superboy's creation and unveiling this time around, so I've had to go ahead and concoct something new.

Superboy has only lived a few, short months and he's spent every moment of that time locked up in a laboratory and training to be a superhero. Though he's told he'll get his chance to prove himself, he grows increasingly impatient in recent weeks. The monotony of his current life drives him up the wall, irritating him to no end. He dreams of the day when he can feel the wind on his face and the grass beneath his feet, free from the poking and prodding of stuffy dorks in labcoats.

This season I intend to explore a couple of different themes revolving around cloning, as that's one of the more interesting parts of his character to be. In particular I'd like to focus on things such as personhood, identity, and how many punches it takes to get to the center of a Kryptonian's skull (hint: its quite a few.)

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

---

Supporting Cast

Paul Westfield: Head of Project Kr, founder of CADMUS and Chief Science Officer at the Acropolis, Dr. Westfield is a former STAR Labs scientist, Professor and savant in the fields of genetic engineering and cybernetics. Paul is a distant, calculating man, adverse to even minor instances of failure. This makes him an indispensable scientist but a rather...lacking father.

Tana M. Westfield: The only daughter of Paul Westfield, Tana was born with the same genius and unquenchable ambition of her father. She shot through schooling faster than anyone could have expected and signed up for CADMUS's Developing Minds Program for Gifted Youths- her remarkable resume and her father's position netted her a position in the Acropolis before she'd even technically graduated. While technically only an assistant, damn near everyone considers her a full member of Kr's team.

Amanda Spence: Doctor Spence is the behavioral and psychotronics specialist on Project Kr with a list of accomplishments to match, or even perhaps surpass, Dr. Westfield's own. She's at constant odds with the doctor over the direction of the project and feels as though his attention is too divided to lead the team properly. Jaded through she is, Spence never lets her personal misgivings get between herself and the work, as its the only thing she truly cares about.

Carl Packard: Packard is the head of physical development for Kr, charged with ensuring Superboy's growth and development are optimized by a combination of performance enhancing drugs and specialized training routines. Kind of a pushover, desperate for the approval of the rest of the team.

Adam Winterbourne: Head of Security at the Acropolis. Responsible for training, equipping and deploying the field teams in case of an emergency situation. Known for his charming grimace and utterly ruthless style of leadership.

Jim Harper: Jim Harper is a former beat cop turned trial subject for Project Kr. Harper was wounded beyond repair while on duty, and his body was donated to CADMUS in his final hours. The program managed to copy his brain into an enhanced replication of his body, effectively dragging him from the brink of death. Harper become one of their top research subjects for Kr's pre-trials, afterward transitioning into the role of Field Team Leader, codenamed Guardian.

Rogues Gallery

Tommy Terror: Half of the Terror Twins team. A metahuman with incredible strength, endurance and an addiction to causing trouble.

Tuppence Terror: The other half of the Terror Twins team. A metahuman with incredible strength, endurance and an addiction to causing trouble.

Mr. Carter: Full-time biology teacher, part time predator. Bad news. Creator, supplier and leader of the Feral Boys gang.

Superman: INSUFFICIENT DATA

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Sample Post

_{SEASON THREE Justice Rising}

SUPERBOY: GODBORN #1 Home Sweet Home

---

_{The Acropolis ♦ Unknown}

Superboy strut down the hallway, the sound of a thousand screaming fans thundering in his ears. They were chanting his name, 'Superboy! Superboy!', over and over again, growing louder with each successive cry. Anticipation filled his chest as he looked down at his hands, staring wide-eyed at the boxing gloves that covered them. He'd give them a show they'd never forget; remind them all why he held the title.

The doors to the ring opened and an overwhelmingly bright light swept over him.

The Ring's name was more than fitting. It was a large, circular chamber, its paneled walls a sterile white. Intense lights shown down from a vaulted ceiling, so acute that it hurt to look up. The room was empty, save for a single soul waiting for HIM just inside the entrance. He was a tall man in grey fatigues, a tablet in one hand and a remote in the other. He gave Superboy a smile. "Feeling good today, are we?"

"Good n' ready to kick some tail, Jimmy." Superboy proclaimed, holding his arms out in front of him. The gloves were gone, replaced by a pair of heavy steel spheres wrapped around each hand and joined together by a thick bar. Impact-absorbing jelly sloshed around inside the spheres as they were moved around.

"Glad to hear it, Kid." Jim Harper lifted the remote in his hand toward the manacles and waved it around in the air. Something inside both devices clicked, and the specially-designed shackles loosed around Superboy's wrists and dropped to the floor with a clatter. Superboy flicked his hands at a few hundred miles per hour to get all the lingering jelly off of them.

With slow, deliberate pokes to the screen Harper punched a series of codes into the linked computer system, shutting the only visible entrance to the chamber. He spent the next few minutes running through a diagnostics check, and then double and triple checking it, ensuring the session would run smoothly without interruption. The consequences of mucking this sort of thing up were all too familiar to him. "Take a minute to stretch while I figure this dumb thing out. We don't want you pulling any muscles during a session again, alright?"

Superboy nodded and wandered a few feet away to comply with the order, initiating some basic warm up techniques. Reaching down to place a palm flat on the floor was easy task, the costume clinging to his lightly-built form offering no resistance at all. The suit was fashioned to mimic the one worn by his original template, though obviously it'd been improved: the cape was gone, Thank God, the boots were a sturdier black leather and a holster pouch hung 'round his right hip in lieu of adding pockets. Pockets never looked good on spandex.

As he arched his back and stuck his arms into the sky, Superboy paused partway through to stare at the back wall, and the sheet of one-way glass running along the top of the Ring.

Behind it, on the monitoring deck, a half dozen specialized technicians were operating the holoprojection matrix under the watchful eye of the science team. Each of the scientists manned a different station, their terminals displaying rivers of data floating before them in interactive holograms. A black woman in a white coat and round rim glasses stood on an elevated platform overlooking the rest of the deck like a steely captain commanding their ship. Her icy gaze just crossing over a man's back was enough to get him to quicken his pace.

"Dr. Spence? You may want to see this." Dr. Packard, a rotund man with a balding head and a bushy mustache, called her name, motioning wildly for her attention. Once she deigned to offer it and moved behind him, Packard pointed to the screen in front of them. There, a silhouette marked 'Subject 13' showed dozens of sensors sewn into the subject's suit feeding data to the computer in real time.

It took Spence a moment to parse the information, but her expression noticeably shifted once she understood what she was looking at. "These readings are-"

"-Extraordinary!" Packard cut her off in his excitement. "Its only been a day since his last check-in and his telekinetic field is already 150% more efficient. None of the previous versions come even close to this level of growth. If Superboy maintains these rates consistent, he may even surpass-"

A hand coming to rest on Packard's shoulder was enough to shut his mouth. Spence didn't need to verbalize the meaning of the gesture for her colleague to understand it. She stood quietly for a few moments, chewing on what she'd learned. The excitement the rest of the team showed was palpable, but her steadfast grimace never faltered. There were risks here that the others refused to see, too blinded by their faith in Westfield's alleged genius to be objective. It was up to Amanda to keep a steady head. To make actual progress with Project Kr instead of resting on what they'd done so far like the rest of them did.

"Today's opponent will provide ample opportunity for Subject Thirteen to prove itself," She finally broke the silence. Stepping away from Packard, she crossed the room in long, brisk strides, coming to a stop at the window. "...Tana, is the session ready?"

At hearing her name Tana's head popped out from behind a pair of technicians at their computers, too short to be easily seen before. She exchanged a quick word with them to confirm the status of the program, firing a thumbs up in Spence's direction once she had it. "Program S is loaded in, just give us the go ahead."

"I'll inform Thirteen," Spence nodded, "Look alive, people."

---

He was back in the center of the ring, the audience chanting his name. Tonight was a full house, not a single seat unoccupied. A mass of faceless people, writhing and jittering in uncontrollable excitement. They'd just finished playing his walkout song. The announcer's voice sprang from a loudspeaker somewhere high above Superboy, giving a triumphant introduction to the Boy of Steel, the heavyweight champion of the world- no, the galaxy! Not a soul had come close to taking the belt from him: a fact that kept Superboy bubbling with confidence. The announcer's voice sounded strangely like Doctor Spence, but little thought was given too it. He was too busy basking in the love of his fans to notice.

He began prancing around the ring, giving wide, arcing motions for the crowd to get louder. So thunderous were they that he could scarcely hear himself think. It felt like the very ground was reverberating with their cries.

Jumping up to the top rope, his arms held out wide, he drank it in, as an emaciated dog might lap up water. Emboldened by their cheers he looked to the opposite door where his opponent would soon enter the arena, and called out to them in a loud voice, "Who the hell do you think you are steppin' up to me?!"

The cheering came to an abrupt end. A gust of wind blew away the crowd, leaving Superboy alone.

Darkness swept over the stands, leaving only the lights above the ring itself light. A series of spotlights began to turn on one after the other, tracing along the entrance ramp to the steps that led up to the fighting mat.

Apprehension suddenly formed like bile in his throat. Superboy leaned forward, squinting his eyes as he stared at the doors. They crept open and a rush of fog filled the room, sweeping out to cover the whole of the floor. A human shadow appeared in the billows, the shape of a cape flowing back behind it.

"What the fu-"

And Supergirl fed the clone his teeth.

The punch knocked Superboy out of his daydream and sent him skipping like a rock across a pond, bouncing three times on the sterile, white floor until he came to a violent stop against the far wall. An indent was left in the metal when he peeled off it and fell back to the ground in a disheveled heap. The sudden sucker punch left him dazed but not down as he pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his glove.

She was hovering less than a foot off the ground, near the center of the room where Superboy had been standing a moment before, flicking a bit of his blood off her shoulder. There was no discernible expression on her face, no evidence that she gave a damn about the creature she'd just brutalized; only the apathetic resolve of a god stepping on an ant resided there.

For his part, Superboy managed to maintain a modicum of his dignity by shooting a cocky grin her way. "Didn't expect it to be you. Didn't expect you to hit that hard, either. Guess I won't go easy on you, even if you are my templa-"

The Kryptonian vanished from sight, only to reappear right on top of Superboy with a hand wrapping around his throat. He never stood a chance at dodging her hand. The damn thing moved faster than he could even see, smashing into his Adam's apple with the force of a bullet train. She lifted Superboy up off his feet, slamming his back into the wall three consecutive times. Jolts of pain shot up along his spine. Screaming in agony wasn't even possible with how tight she was holding on to him.

They locked eyes for the longest second of his life.

Superboy brought his hands together over his head and bashed them repeatedly against Supergirl's wrist. Each one fell in quick succession. He counted eighty seven over the course of a few seconds before her fingers budged even slightly. Just enough for him to weasel out of her grip and leap away from her.

"What've you been feeding her, Venom? Christ, she hits like a truck! Big one, too." He yelled between long breaths, taking a moment to recover what energy he could. He'd fought these programs near every day for the past five months and not a single one of them compared to this one in speed and strength. "There's no way the real deal's this tough-"

The speaker system buzzed to life, casting the voice of Dr. Spence over the Ring. "We do not have the equipment to properly simulate her upper limits. This is the Supergirl at half strength and you are failing miserably, Subject Thirteen."

He froze.

She was lying. Had to be. There was no way she was this strong, no way anyone was twice this strong. He could bench press a tank without a sweat and this poor facsimile of her was tossing him around like a toddler stuck in a wet paper bag. And her speed...A few weeks ago Superboy caught a bullet with twizzers on a dare, and he couldn't so much as see her when she rushed him. How the hell did CADMUS expect him of all people to match her?

Spence pressed down the speaker button and offered but two, commanding words upon seeing him hesitate. "Subject, attack."

He was moving before another thought could register, hands balled into fists. Supergirl left the ground to meet him. She landed an uppercut into his abdomen that shook his very core, but when she came around with a hook to finish him off she found an arm in her path. Even deflecting a blow made Superboy's bones ache in agony, but he was forced to continue his attack. He had been commanded. Compliance was mandatory.

A lightning-quick flurry of jabs impacted against her shoulders, arms and upper body. Wild though they might appear to an onlooker, Superboy was probing her defenses, looking for opening where he could slip in an important blow as Harper had taught him. His opponent didn't seem nearly as well trained, her movements were impossibly quick yet basic, predictable. If he could just get her to shift her block...

There! Short though the window of opportunity was he leapt to take it, a fist barreling passed her guard and impacting against her cheek. A loud clap of air followed it after a beat, the sound barrier breaking with the speed of the successful blow. There was faint cheering somewhere up and behind Superboy.

Actual, not-his-imagination cheering.

Supergirl touched her cheek, rubbing at the scuff mark his knuckles had made. It hurt enough to give her pause and make her stumble- something a moment ago he would've thought impossible. Any sense of elation that came from that was cut short before it even had a microsecond to register as she came at him again with renewed savagery.

It could've been four hits or forty for all he knew. Her hands moved too quick for the pain to even register, led alone slow enough to count the successive blows that rocketed into the clone's body and face. Each one sent him reeling yet she pursued all the same, at one point reaching out to pluck Superboy from the air when one of her attacks hit so hard his feet left the floor.

His cheek tore open first, the fabric and flesh around his ribs following swiftly after. Every inch of his body was either bruised, aching or bloodied, with several parts feeling all three at once. Superboy teetered on his feet, too dazed to know what was going on, until a final, light push placed him on his back.

White noise filled his ears. And his head.

The loudspeaker split the air with an obnoxious start, and Spence began to speak again.

"If you can't get up you may as well die and stop wasting our time."

Superboy rolled onto his stomach with a groan, but he didn't rise. His arms had given out on him.

"Did that last order get your broken skull? Get up, Subject 13."

There was no reply, so she sounded the speaker again.

"Comply."

It took a great deal of effort on his part, but Thirteen managed to wiggle his arms underneath his battered form. Taking several, long breaths he attempted to push himself up via his elbows, only getting so far as sliding his knees along the floor before he collapsed again. "I can't." Superboy wheezed, coughing up a chunk of red viscera. "She's too..."

Amanda cut him off, addressing Supergirl instead. "Finish it. Its of no more use to us like this."

Supergirl took a step forward, flipping him over with her boot and placing it on the clone's chest with the intent to cave it in.

"Stop this madness!" A voice snarled from across the room. Jim Harper came marching into the Ring, a hard grimace set upon his face as he approached the two supers. There were calls of protest from the monitoring deck but he didn't react, moving right through the projection of Supergirl and kneeling down to check on the boy.

He offered Harper a pitiful thumbs up.

"He's barely able to breath led alone fight!" He yelled in protest over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around to stare up at lone window. It didn't need to be two-way for him to know who he was staring daggers into.

Spence cleared her throat. "You're interfering with our work, Harper. We were gathering valuable data from this encounter-"

"Like hell you were, you're going to kill him!"

"I can't kill something that's barely even alive, Captain, now move. You don't have authority in this matter and the Board will not take kindly to your actions." A less-than-veiled threat that everyone listening could recognize, save the boy stuck on his stomach. He likely couldn't recognize his own reflection at the moment.

There was a long, tense period of silence before Harper stepped out of the way.

Supergirl moved through him and reached down to pluck Superboy off the floor, holding him to his feet by his shirt. She slapped him across the face hard enough to send him reeling back to the ground, tearing his suit in the process. The sound of a winding down engine came from somewhere above them and Supergirl faded from existence, the S she'd torn off of Superboy now falling to the floor in a crumpled ball.

As his vision began to darken, Superboy imagined himself lying on mat of a boxing ring. It was quiet, and he was alone.

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

---

SUPERBOY: GODBORN
Issue #1: Home Sweet Home
Issue #2: Lab Rat in Spandex
Issue #3: Serene

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

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

^{_{S U B J E C T 1 3 ♦ S U P E R H E R O ♦ T H E A C R O P O L I S ♦ C A D M U S}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

---

^{"What's the 'S' stand for? It stands for 'stick it where the sun don't shine', pal, now buzz off. I got a world to save."}

Superboy grew up in a bottle, the scientists sticking needles in his arm the closest thing he ever had to family. They kept him isolated in a research facility tucked away at the edge of the world, shielded from eyes that may deign to pry- they called it the Acropolis. It was here that the scientists at CADMUS did their best work, particularly in the field of genetics.

CADMUS and its founder, Dr. Westfield, had always believed the solutions to the world's biggest problems lay in metahumans. Their extraordinary biology and unimaginable power made them a near limitless source of advancement, if it could be properly tapped. In recent years progress on that front has accelerated so dramatically that they believe they're on the verge of a breakthrough, thanks to the efforts of Project Kr's development team.

Project Kr is CADMUS's attempt to create an artificial lifeform with DNA samples acquired from the being in Metropolis the press was calling Supergirl. Though they were working with precious little material and on a tight timetable, the Kr team has done near miraculous work in bringing Westfield's vision to life.

The latest iteration of Kr is Subject 13, affectionately nicknamed 'Superboy' by the science team. He took remarkably well to the strenuous regime of testing, training and study they put up for him, lasting longer and performing better than any of his previous versions. The only quirk of his rapid development seems to be his forming a distinctive personality all his own- an aberration not found in previous clones. Some concern has been raised by Dr. Spence but her calls for caution have been overshadowed by the subject's overwhelming progress.

Things are going so well Doctor Westfield is even considering beginning field performance tests...

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

---

Superboy has always been a favorite character of mine, but I've never gotten the opportunity to properly write for him before now. For this game I'm going to be taking the character back to his 90s roots: back when he was a badmouthing punk in tights and a leather jacket. The foundation for his origin story will remain mostly the same, too, with him being a clone created by Cadmus, though I have made some minor alterations to make things more engaging.

Where we'll break from the canon is with some of the characters being different, like Tana Moon and Amanda Spence, and the direction which the story will take. There's no Death of Superman to motivate Superboy's creation and unveiling this time around, so I've had to go ahead and concoct something new.

Superboy has only lived a few, short months and he's spent every moment of that time locked up in a laboratory and training to be a superhero. Though he's told he'll get his chance to prove himself, he grows increasingly impatient in recent weeks. The monotony of his current life drives him up the wall, irritating him to no end. He dreams of the day when he can feel the wind on his face and the grass beneath his feet, free from the poking and prodding of stuffy dorks in labcoats.

This season I intend to explore a couple of different themes revolving around cloning, as that's one of the more interesting parts of his character to be. In particular I'd like to focus on things such as personhood, identity, and how many punches it takes to get to the center of a Kryptonian's skull (hint: its quite a few.)

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

---

Supporting Cast

Paul Westfield: Head of Project Kr, founder of CADMUS and Chief Science Officer at the Acropolis, Dr. Westfield is a former STAR Labs scientist, Professor and savant in the fields of genetic engineering and cybernetics. Paul is a distant, calculating man, adverse to even minor instances of failure. This makes him an indispensable scientist but a rather...lacking father.

Tana M. Westfield: The only daughter of Paul Westfield, Tana was born with the same genius and unquenchable ambition of her father. She shot through schooling faster than anyone could have expected and signed up for CADMUS's Developing Minds Program for Gifted Youths- her remarkable resume and her father's position netted her a position in the Acropolis before she'd even technically graduated. While technically only an assistant, damn near everyone considers her a full member of Kr's team.

Amanda Spence: Doctor Spence is the behavioral and psychotronics specialist on Project Kr with a list of accomplishments to match, or even perhaps surpass, Dr. Westfield's own. She's at constant odds with the doctor over the direction of the project and feels as though his attention is too divided to lead the team properly. Jaded through she is, Spence never lets her personal misgivings get between herself and the work, as its the only thing she truly cares about.

Carl Packard: Packard is the head of physical development for Kr, charged with ensuring Superboy's growth and development are optimized by a combination of performance enhancing drugs and specialized training routines. Kind of a pushover, desperate for the approval of the rest of the team.

Adam Winterbourne: Head of Security at the Acropolis. Responsible for training, equipping and deploying the field teams in case of an emergency situation. Known for his charming grimace and utterly ruthless style of leadership.

Jim Harper: Jim Harper is a former beat cop turned trial subject for Project Kr. Harper was wounded beyond repair while on duty, and his body was donated to CADMUS in his final hours. The program managed to copy his brain into an enhanced replication of his body, effectively dragging him from the brink of death. Harper become one of their top research subjects for Kr's pre-trials, afterward transitioning into the role of Field Team Leader, codenamed Guardian.

Rogues Gallery

Tommy Terror: Half of the Terror Twins team. A metahuman with incredible strength, endurance and an addiction to causing trouble.

Tuppence Terror: The other half of the Terror Twins team. A metahuman with incredible strength, endurance and an addiction to causing trouble.

Mr. Carter: Full-time biology teacher, part time predator. Bad news. Creator, supplier and leader of the Feral Boys gang.

Superman: INSUFFICIENT DATA

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Sample Post

_{SEASON THREE Justice Rising}

SUPERBOY: GODBORN #1 Home Sweet Home

---

_{The Acropolis ♦ Unknown}

Superboy strut down the hallway, the sound of a thousand screaming fans thundering in his ears. They were chanting his name, 'Superboy! Superboy!', over and over again, growing louder with each successive cry. Anticipation filled his chest as he looked down at his hands, staring wide-eyed at the boxing gloves that covered them. He'd give them a show they'd never forget; remind them all why he held the title.

The doors to the ring opened and an overwhelmingly bright light swept over him.

The Ring's name was more than fitting. It was a large, circular chamber, its paneled walls a sterile white. Intense lights shown down from a vaulted ceiling, so acute that it hurt to look up. The room was empty, save for a single soul waiting for HIM just inside the entrance. He was a tall man in grey fatigues, a tablet in one hand and a remote in the other. He gave Superboy a smile. "Feeling good today, are we?"

"Good n' ready to kick some tail, Jimmy." Superboy proclaimed, holding his arms out in front of him. The gloves were gone, replaced by a pair of heavy steel spheres wrapped around each hand and joined together by a thick bar. Impact-absorbing jelly sloshed around inside the spheres as they were moved around.

"Glad to hear it, Kid." Jim Harper lifted the remote in his hand toward the manacles and waved it around in the air. Something inside both devices clicked, and the specially-designed shackles loosed around Superboy's wrists and dropped to the floor with a clatter. Superboy flicked his hands at a few hundred miles per hour to get all the lingering jelly off of them.

With slow, deliberate pokes to the screen Harper punched a series of codes into the linked computer system, shutting the only visible entrance to the chamber. He spent the next few minutes running through a diagnostics check, and then double and triple checking it, ensuring the session would run smoothly without interruption. The consequences of mucking this sort of thing up were all too familiar to him. "Take a minute to stretch while I figure this dumb thing out. We don't want you pulling any muscles during a session again, alright?"

Superboy nodded and wandered a few feet away to comply with the order, initiating some basic warm up techniques. Reaching down to place a palm flat on the floor was easy task, the costume clinging to his lightly-built form offering no resistance at all. The suit was fashioned to mimic the one worn by his original template, though obviously it'd been improved: the cape was gone, Thank God, the boots were a sturdier black leather and a holster pouch hung 'round his right hip in lieu of adding pockets. Pockets never looked good on spandex.

As he arched his back and stuck his arms into the sky, Superboy paused partway through to stare at the back wall, and the sheet of one-way glass running along the top of the Ring.

Behind it, on the monitoring deck, a half dozen specialized technicians were operating the holoprojection matrix under the watchful eye of the science team. Each of the scientists manned a different station, their terminals displaying rivers of data floating before them in interactive holograms. A black woman in a white coat and round rim glasses stood on an elevated platform overlooking the rest of the deck like a steely captain commanding their ship. Her icy gaze just crossing over a man's back was enough to get him to quicken his pace.

"Dr. Spence? You may want to see this." Dr. Packard, a rotund man with a balding head and a bushy mustache, called her name, motioning wildly for her attention. Once she deigned to offer it and moved behind him, Packard pointed to the screen in front of them. There, a silhouette marked 'Subject 13' showed dozens of sensors sewn into the subject's suit feeding data to the computer in real time.

It took Spence a moment to parse the information, but her expression noticeably shifted once she understood what she was looking at. "These readings are-"

"-Extraordinary!" Packard cut her off in his excitement. "Its only been a day since his last check-in and his telekinetic field is already 150% more efficient. None of the previous versions come even close to this level of growth. If Superboy maintains these rates consistent, he may even surpass-"

A hand coming to rest on Packard's shoulder was enough to shut his mouth. Spence didn't need to verbalize the meaning of the gesture for her colleague to understand it. She stood quietly for a few moments, chewing on what she'd learned. The excitement the rest of the team showed was palpable, but her steadfast grimace never faltered. There were risks here that the others refused to see, too blinded by their faith in Westfield's alleged genius to be objective. It was up to Amanda to keep a steady head. To make actual progress with Project Kr instead of resting on what they'd done so far like the rest of them did.

"Today's opponent will provide ample opportunity for Subject Thirteen to prove itself," She finally broke the silence. Stepping away from Packard, she crossed the room in long, brisk strides, coming to a stop at the window. "...Tana, is the session ready?"

At hearing her name Tana's head popped out from behind a pair of technicians at their computers, too short to be easily seen before. She exchanged a quick word with them to confirm the status of the program, firing a thumbs up in Spence's direction once she had it. "Program S is loaded in, just give us the go ahead."

"I'll inform Thirteen," Spence nodded, "Look alive, people."

---

He was back in the center of the ring, the audience chanting his name. Tonight was a full house, not a single seat unoccupied. A mass of faceless people, writhing and jittering in uncontrollable excitement. They'd just finished playing his walkout song. The announcer's voice sprang from a loudspeaker somewhere high above Superboy, giving a triumphant introduction to the Boy of Steel, the heavyweight champion of the world- no, the galaxy! Not a soul had come close to taking the belt from him: a fact that kept Superboy bubbling with confidence. The announcer's voice sounded strangely like Doctor Spence, but little thought was given too it. He was too busy basking in the love of his fans to notice.

He began prancing around the ring, giving wide, arcing motions for the crowd to get louder. So thunderous were they that he could scarcely hear himself think. It felt like the very ground was reverberating with their cries.

Jumping up to the top rope, his arms held out wide, he drank it in, as an emaciated dog might lap up water. Emboldened by their cheers he looked to the opposite door where his opponent would soon enter the arena, and called out to them in a loud voice, "Who the hell do you think you are steppin' up to me?!"

The cheering came to an abrupt end. A gust of wind blew away the crowd, leaving Superboy alone.

Darkness swept over the stands, leaving only the lights above the ring itself light. A series of spotlights began to turn on one after the other, tracing along the entrance ramp to the steps that led up to the fighting mat.

Apprehension suddenly formed like bile in his throat. Superboy leaned forward, squinting his eyes as he stared at the doors. They crept open and a rush of fog filled the room, sweeping out to cover the whole of the floor. A human shadow appeared in the billows, the shape of a cape flowing back behind it.

"What the fu-"

And Supergirl fed the clone his teeth.

The punch knocked Superboy out of his daydream and sent him skipping like a rock across a pond, bouncing three times on the sterile, white floor until he came to a violent stop against the far wall. An indent was left in the metal when he peeled off it and fell back to the ground in a disheveled heap. The sudden sucker punch left him dazed but not down as he pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his glove.

She was hovering less than a foot off the ground, near the center of the room where Superboy had been standing a moment before, flicking a bit of his blood off her shoulder. There was no discernible expression on her face, no evidence that she gave a damn about the creature she'd just brutalized; only the apathetic resolve of a god stepping on an ant resided there.

For his part, Superboy managed to maintain a modicum of his dignity by shooting a cocky grin her way. "Didn't expect it to be you. Didn't expect you to hit that hard, either. Guess I won't go easy on you, even if you are my templa-"

The Kryptonian vanished from sight, only to reappear right on top of Superboy with a hand wrapping around his throat. He never stood a chance at dodging her hand. The damn thing moved faster than he could even see, smashing into his Adam's apple with the force of a bullet train. She lifted Superboy up off his feet, slamming his back into the wall three consecutive times. Jolts of pain shot up along his spine. Screaming in agony wasn't even possible with how tight she was holding on to him.

They locked eyes for the longest second of his life.

Superboy brought his hands together over his head and bashed them repeatedly against Supergirl's wrist. Each one fell in quick succession. He counted eighty seven over the course of a few seconds before her fingers budged even slightly. Just enough for him to weasel out of her grip and leap away from her.

"What've you been feeding her, Venom? Christ, she hits like a truck! Big one, too." He yelled between long breaths, taking a moment to recover what energy he could. He'd fought these programs near every day for the past five months and not a single one of them compared to this one in speed and strength. "There's no way the real deal's this tough-"

The speaker system buzzed to life, casting the voice of Dr. Spence over the Ring. "We do not have the equipment to properly simulate her upper limits. This is the Supergirl at half strength and you are failing miserably, Subject Thirteen."

He froze.

She was lying. Had to be. There was no way she was this strong, no way anyone was twice this strong. He could bench press a tank without a sweat and this poor facsimile of her was tossing him around like a toddler stuck in a wet paper bag. And her speed...A few weeks ago Superboy caught a bullet with twizzers on a dare, and he couldn't so much as see her when she rushed him. How the hell did CADMUS expect him of all people to match her?

Spence pressed down the speaker button and offered but two, commanding words upon seeing him hesitate. "Subject, attack."

He was moving before another thought could register, hands balled into fists. Supergirl left the ground to meet him. She landed an uppercut into his abdomen that shook his very core, but when she came around with a hook to finish him off she found an arm in her path. Even deflecting a blow made Superboy's bones ache in agony, but he was forced to continue his attack. He had been commanded. Compliance was mandatory.

A lightning-quick flurry of jabs impacted against her shoulders, arms and upper body. Wild though they might appear to an onlooker, Superboy was probing her defenses, looking for opening where he could slip in an important blow as Harper had taught him. His opponent didn't seem nearly as well trained, her movements were impossibly quick yet basic, predictable. If he could just get her to shift her block...

There! Short though the window of opportunity was he leapt to take it, a fist barreling passed her guard and impacting against her cheek. A loud clap of air followed it after a beat, the sound barrier breaking with the speed of the successful blow. There was faint cheering somewhere up and behind Superboy.

Actual, not-his-imagination cheering.

Supergirl touched her cheek, rubbing at the scuff mark his knuckles had made. It hurt enough to give her pause and make her stumble- something a moment ago he would've thought impossible. Any sense of elation that came from that was cut short before it even had a microsecond to register as she came at him again with renewed savagery.

It could've been four hits or forty for all he knew. Her hands moved too quick for the pain to even register, led alone slow enough to count the successive blows that rocketed into the clone's body and face. Each one sent him reeling yet she pursued all the same, at one point reaching out to pluck Superboy from the air when one of her attacks hit so hard his feet left the floor.

His cheek tore open first, the fabric and flesh around his ribs following swiftly after. Every inch of his body was either bruised, aching or bloodied, with several parts feeling all three at once. Superboy teetered on his feet, too dazed to know what was going on, until a final, light push placed him on his back.

White noise filled his ears. And his head.

The loudspeaker split the air with an obnoxious start, and Spence began to speak again.

"If you can't get up you may as well die and stop wasting our time."

Superboy rolled onto his stomach with a groan, but he didn't rise. His arms had given out on him.

"Did that last order get your broken skull? Get up, Subject 13."

There was no reply, so she sounded the speaker again.

"Comply."

It took a great deal of effort on his part, but Thirteen managed to wiggle his arms underneath his battered form. Taking several, long breaths he attempted to push himself up via his elbows, only getting so far as sliding his knees along the floor before he collapsed again. "I can't." Superboy wheezed, coughing up a chunk of red viscera. "She's too..."

Amanda cut him off, addressing Supergirl instead. "Finish it. Its of no more use to us like this."

Supergirl took a step forward, flipping him over with her boot and placing it on the clone's chest with the intent to cave it in.

"Stop this madness!" A voice snarled from across the room. Jim Harper came marching into the Ring, a hard grimace set upon his face as he approached the two supers. There were calls of protest from the monitoring deck but he didn't react, moving right through the projection of Supergirl and kneeling down to check on the boy.

He offered Harper a pitiful thumbs up.

"He's barely able to breath led alone fight!" He yelled in protest over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around to stare up at lone window. It didn't need to be two-way for him to know who he was staring daggers into.

Spence cleared her throat. "You're interfering with our work, Harper. We were gathering valuable data from this encounter-"

"Like hell you were, you're going to kill him!"

"I can't kill something that's barely even alive, Captain, now move. You don't have authority in this matter and the Board will not take kindly to your actions." A less-than-veiled threat that everyone listening could recognize, save the boy stuck on his stomach. He likely couldn't recognize his own reflection at the moment.

There was a long, tense period of silence before Harper stepped out of the way.

Supergirl moved through him and reached down to pluck Superboy off the floor, holding him to his feet by his shirt. She slapped him across the face hard enough to send him reeling back to the ground, tearing his suit in the process. The sound of a winding down engine came from somewhere above them and Supergirl faded from existence, the S she'd torn off of Superboy now falling to the floor in a crumpled ball.

As his vision began to darken, Superboy imagined himself lying on mat of a boxing ring. It was quiet, and he was alone.

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

---

TBA

Polaris: A New Anchorage Story

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