Chapter 13: Gods and Men
Clark felt the energy he had taken from the sunlight explode inside his entire body, as he flew as fast as he could towards Natasha's pod, approaching Earth with alarming speed. He felt the heat when he collided with the atmosphere, the red glow surrounding his body, but he didn't even blink, his eyes focused on the spinning pod.
The damaged pod, also glowing hot, began to lose parts, the friction with the atmosphere proving to be too much for the broken hull. A trail of fire and smoke was made in the sky, Clark following it with everything he had.
He reached with his left arm and held the pod, his fingers barely being able to grasp the big sphere-shaped hull, but the pressure of his Kryptonian strength more than enough to stabilize it and make the spinning stop; reaching with his other hand, he pulled himself against it, knees touching the hull.
At that very moment, they breached the blanket of white clouds, the city becoming visible; he needed to hurry up. Looking down, he could see Natasha watching him, her eyes alert but with remarkable calm, given the situation. He tilted his head to the side, asking her to move a bit, and brought his fist against the pod, ripping out the door. And, just as the door went flying, he raised his arms and held Natasha.
The pod collided against the ground, exploding, its flames going up; as fast as he could, he turned around, shielding her from the fire with his back, as the explosion reached them.
Clark sighed, relieved, when the flames died out, Natasha safe with him as they floated down slowly.
"I don't know how you enjoy flying," Natasha said, her voice muffled against his chest.
"There is nothing wrong with flying; falling however, that's scary," Clark answered, as they touched the ground.
The pod made a big crater in the ground, its broken pieces lying around, the alien fuel burning with a blue flame.
"Are you alright?" Clark asked, checking her bones with his x-ray vision for injuries.
"I'm fine," she answered, looking weirdly at him for a second. "This 'focused look' you're giving me has anything to do with how you could see through walls? Well, you just saved my life, so I guess you can take a little peek. I'm flattered by the way."
Clark raised his eyes to her face quickly, a little flushed.
"I was looking at your bones!" he clarified, unnecessarily, he knew that by now, but unable to stop himself.
Natasha smirked.
"Sure."
But suddenly, she lost her smile.
"Clark, listen to me, they looked inside my mind," she said, all business now. "I couldn't stop them…"
"It's okay, they did the same thing to me," Clark interrupted, trying to reassure her.
"… They were looking for my memories about you!"
Clark was frozen in place when he finally understood what she meant; and with a last look to her, he took off to the sky, the air exploding around him.
Martha Kent heard a huge noise just outside of her house, the dog barking madly in front of the door to whatever was making it. Putting the dog behind, she opened the door, her breath hitching when she saw two ships landing.
With slow steps, she went down the stairs of the porch, as the ship opened and a ramp slid down, four Kryptonians walking out, fully armored. Uncertain, Martha walked to them, a very bad feeling in her chest.
The one who looked to be the "boss" stopped in front of her, just besides her red car; that was probably that General Zod from the TV, she thought.
"The craft he arrived in, where is it?" he demanded, without even bothering to introduce himself.
Whatever they wanted with her son's ship, she could already tell Clark wouldn't approve of; Martha looked unblinking at his face, her fear being surpassed by her motherly instincts.
"Go to hell!" she answered, forgetting her rules against swearing in the moment.
Zod just looked to the side and nodded; a woman, also fully clad in that horrible black armor, approached. And without a word, she closed her hand around her neck and lifted her from the ground.
Her breath was suddenly cut off and the woman's fingers hurt her neck; her feet were dangling in the air. Without being able to think properly, her eyes looked to the side, to her barn; that was all they needed.
"There," Zod stated, pointing at the barn.
The woman tossed her on the ground without a second look, her body smashing painfully against the grass, and jumped to the sky, in a way she only had seen Clark do before; she descended right on top of the barn, breaking the roof when she landed.
Not even 10 seconds later, she jumped back, passing through the hole in the roof, and landing at their side.
"The Codex is not here," she said.
General Zod practically growled in fury, grabbing the red pickup truck at his side with one hand and throwing it in the air; the car fell right on top of her house, destroying the rooftop and falling inside.
She yelped in fear.
"Where has he hidden it?!" the Kryptonian asked, walking fast to her.
"I don't know," she answered, not having a single clue of what he was talking about.
"WHERE IS THE CODEX?!" he screamed.
A loud supersonic sound made itself heard in the distance; Martha felt relief flood her and looked at Zod with a defying smile.
"You shouldn't have hit me."
And just as she said this, Clark appeared from nothing, just a blur in the sky, and collided against Zod, both disappearing from sight.
Clark was burning with rage, his vision almost red with wrath when he saw his mother on the ground. He flew directly against Zod, colliding against him with all his strength, screaming in anger; Zod was lifted from the ground with him, both of them flying through the corn field, and then against two silos full of grain, that exploded as they passed from side to side.
He held Zod and forced him down, crashing his back against the ground and grabbing his neck with one hand, still flying as fast as he could even when Zod was being dragged against the earth.
And then he began to punch him, all his power, all his fury, making every blow throw Zod's armored head against the ground, the sound of his fist against the helmet echoing.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN THREATEN MY MOTHER?!"
Clark was so angry that he didn't even notice Smallville approaching fast; when he saw the buildings in front of him, all he could do was change their trajectory to a place without people: a gas station.
They crashed through the convenience store, breaking the walls and windows, and finally hitting the gas pump.
The explosion covered the whole place with fire, throwing a car up, destroying everything around; the ceiling on top of the pumps fell down, as a tower of black smoke rose. Clark was thrown on the ground, sliding for several meters.
The people around, luckily nobody injured, started to yell and run away. Clark got up, looking at Zod who was removing his black cape, covered with gasoline and flames, and tossing it to the side. He firmed his steps, apparently dizzy, and took his hands to his head; more accurately, his helmet.
While the thing had protected Zod's head from the brunt of Clark's punches, it hadn't come out of it unscathed; he could hear the electric discharges it was giving, the material switching between black and transparent randomly, probably making it impossible to see through it.
Zod grabbed his helmet and pulled it, stretching it like some form of gel, until the whole thing retracted itself back into his armor.
Clark smiled as he looked at Zod's stunned face; poisonous air wasn't so cool now, was it?
"What have you done to me?" he demanded, his eyes unfocused, Earth's atmosphere flushing Krypton's air from him and making the powers he gained from the sun hit him with their full strength.
"My parents taught me to hone my senses, Zod," Clark answered, walking to him, seeing Zod fall down to his knees in pain. "Focus on just what I wanted to see. Without your helmet you're getting everything."
Zod tried to get up again, only to fall down, grunting in pain, completely incapable of doing anything besides lying on the ground in agony.
"And it hurts, doesn't it?!" Clark completed, feeling a sadistic satisfaction in seeing the man who hurt his mother twitching on the floor because of the pain.
Before he could do anything else, however, he heard the engine of a Kryptonian ship arriving, floating just in front of him; and, without giving him time to do anything, it fired on him, the blue energy hitting him right in the chest and sending him against a car.
He groaned in pain, the blue energy burning his skin, as it dissipated in his skinsuit.
And while he was on the ground, two Kryptonians got out from the ship, helping Zod up and dragging him back inside it, he fighting to stay every step of the way, while he looked at Clark with a murderous expression.
Clark only watched as they took off slowly, and then accelerated to the sky, retreating; but before he could commemorate anything, he heard scared voices on the street, people running, doors closing. Two Kryptonians were coming in his direction from the other end of the street, walking slowly, a woman and a huge man.
The woman he knew, it was Faora; and the man was Nam-Ek, if the information his father gave him was correct, a behemoth of a man even back in Krypton.
This was far from over.
General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross checked the window from the helicopter, seeing the line of helicopters flying fast side by side; he raised his head, looking at the soldiers sharing the space with him, all fully armed, all with nervous expressions on their faces.
Being a general and way passed youth, it wasn't normal to General Ross to join in a field mission like this, but those were unusual circumstances; not only he had experience in leading men in said unusual circumstances, like when they were hunting the Hulk, he was the closest officer in place when the aliens descended on that small town.
And now, it was up to him and his men to do something about it.
He pressed the button of his radio.
"All clear, this is Guardian. I am airborne mission commander. The beings we are about to engage are extremely dangerous and we've been authorized to use deadly force."
He could hear the piercing sound of the jets passing close to them, flying towards the aliens.
"Roger, Guardian, we are inbound to target," came the response from the pilots.
Ross controlled himself not to breathe deeply; his men were already tense as it is, they didn't need to see their commander afraid. He was pretty sure they were all thinking about the Battle of New York and how close they were to being defeated.
Only to be saved by a group of rogue individuals, the Hulk amongst them.
He still couldn't believe how the world had come that. He was a soldier, it was his job to protect his country and the people in it; but how exactly do you lead men against aliens and gods? How could normal humans stand up against that?
The simple and to the point answer was that they couldn't. There were things out there that his soldiers didn't stand a chance against. Threats so big that not even the best warriors in his army could face. That was why they had tried to recreate the Super Soldier Serum; that was why he tried so badly to bring the Hulk under his command.
Because he recognized that they needed monsters to fight monsters.
Weapons like the Hulk, like Stark's suits, like Captain America. Nukes to be pointed and fired upon their enemies. But, like any good weapon, they only had a use when they could be controlled, and despite what SHIELD might think, the Avengers were anything but controlled. Something would have to be done about that, in the future.
But that would have to wait now, because since they didn't have proper weapons to use against these aliens, men would have to do. He hoped they were enough.
Clark swallowed, his mouth dry, as he walked towards the Kryptonians. The people of the town, those who still hadn't locked themselves up in their homes, were running scared, looking for shelter.
This was really happening. There was no stopping now. He tried to control his fear, remembering his father's words, but his heart was still beating fast; how could it be any different? He knew that the safety of these people was in his hands now. He was the only one there capable to stop the Kryptonians.
And he didn't have a clue if he really could do that.
They were fully trained soldiers, experienced, equipped and in greater numbers; he was raised on a farm. And right now, he was the only thing between them and the complete extinction of the human race.
No pressure.
He closed his hand on a fist, contracting his muscles, preparing himself; he could see Faora doing the same. They walked a few more steps and then stopped, staring at each other, a pair of murderous blue eyes looking at a pair of cerulean tense eyes.
That's when he heard the sound of jets crossing the sky in their direction.
He had a split second to move when the machine guns started to roar, the bullets hitting the ground behind him with extreme force. Dashing out of the way, he flew fast to the side, escaping their aim, breaking the roof of a house when his leg crashed against it. Faora was quick to do the same, becoming a black blur and disappearing.
Nam-Ek wasn't so lucky.
The bullets hit him straight in the chest, the rain of metal strong enough to throw him back against a light post, breaking it.
"Thunder one-one, good hit! Request immediate re-attack," he could hear someone say on the radio, as the jets turned around to fire again.
"Roger, Guardian. We're commencing our run at 2-1-2 degrees."
Bad idea. Before he could even think about stopping him, Nam-Ek got up, stretching himself for a moment, and began to run in the direction of the jets, his legs breaking the street when he jumped one, two, three times; at the third he was in the air, almost as if flying against the jet.
"Thunder one-one! Eject! Eject! Thunder one-one, eject!" he heard the desperate order on the radio.
Too late. Nam-Ek hit the jet straight on, breaking the cabin with his hands and taking his hands around the pilot's head; Clark saw only a splash of red and then the jet dove down, hitting the street and exploding, the burning fuselage taking everything in its path.
Faora just stood there, seeing the burning plane coming in her direction, and then walked to it; Clark could already see what she was planning. Like Nam-Ek, she jumped, crossing the flames as she rose in the air, arms open and her black cape flapping in air.
"I have a bogey incoming!" Clark heard the pilot yell, as Faora appeared in his front. "Oh, shit!"
At the very moment she was about to make contact, Clark appeared out of nowhere and collided against her in air. They flew without direction, she fighting him every inch of the way, and he couldn't keep himself up, beginning to drop fast; he could only make the effort to avoid any people in his way.
They broke the roof of the IHOP, falling inside like a meteor, tables and the very ground breaking; but no people, he checked, relieved. He got up fast, looking around, seeing his old friend Pete hiding behind the counter; and then, before he could blink, Faora's fist hit his stomach, tossing him against the wall.
He was winded for a second, but he dashed to front, punching, only to see Faora dodge him quite easily. She retracted her breather and looked at him.
"You are weak, son of El," she taunted. "Unsure of yourself."
Clark attacked her, throwing punch after punch, seeing none of them connect; Faora just blocked him as if she was doing the easiest thing in the world, and then retaliated, hitting his jaw with a powerful blow that sent him flying against the wall, the ground breaking. He groaned, the unusual experience of feeling pain keeping him down for a moment.
"The fact that you possess a sense of morality and we do not, gives us an evolutionary advantage," Faora continued, eyeing him as he got up.
He flew fast against her, trying to take her by surprise; she just stepped to the side, grabbing his neck and tossing him on the ground with extraordinarily strength.
"And if history has proven anything…" she said, holding his cape with both hands and lifting him in air, only to throw him out of the building; Clark flew across the street, hitting a bank and only stopping when his back collided against a vault door, that bended in contact. He almost fell on his knees in pain, when Faora dropped from the ceiling in front of him, looking at him with her emotionless eyes. "… it is that evolution always wins."
Clark was pissed. Screaming in anger, he flew against her, his rage giving him more speed than she could predict, hitting Faora and throwing her through the wall, against an armored truck that also couldn't hold her, through the walls of another building and finally tossing her on the street. Flying up, he aimed at her and attacked again, his fist breaking the asphalt when she dodged him; so he attacked again, flying fast against her.
When he was about to hit her, he felt Nam-Ek holding his legs, grunting, stopping him in air; he tried to get away, but the immense Kryptonian pulled him up and smashed him against the ground. Clark lost his breath, dizzy, only to be raised in air again and slammed on the asphalt, head first, a crater opening.
And then he felt a ridiculously powerful kick on his ribs, throwing him in the air in Faora's direction, her fist hitting him directly in the face. His vision blacked out for a moment, as he fell with his face down.
"Jesus…" exclaimed Steve, as he watched Clark fall down on the street.
Tony had quite the more colorful vocabulary to describe what he was seeing. He, Steve and Banner were on a Quinjet, Clint piloting as fast as he could to the field of battle, watching the satellite footage Jarvis was playing on the monitor.
What these aliens were doing was incredibly frightening. The speed they were moving, the strength of their blows, their toughness… He had just seen one of them get up after taking a rain of bullets, only to jump to the sky against a jet and bring it down! And the thing was, Tony didn't know if he was more surprised about that or the fact that he fell down alongside the exploding jet and got up, without a scratch.
"I got word from Natasha," Clint suddenly spoke up. "She is fine, she managed to get out from the ship with him."
"That's excellent!" Banner said, as all of them breathed relieved with the first good news of the day. "Where is she?"
"She said she got a ride and it's going to meet us there," Clint answered.
With that, they looked back at the screen. That Kryptonian woman, Faora, got close from Clark and flipped him up with her foot; he tried to get up, to their relief, showing them he was not dead yet. Their relief was short lived, however, because the huge alien dashed against him, his knee hitting his chest, Clark's back breaking the ground for several meters, until they stopped.
That's when the giant fist came down like a hammer against his chest, opening a crater under him.
Stark took his hands to his face, unable to speak, as Faora ran to them ready to kick Clark's head; he managed to hold her leg and bring her down, turning at the same time to avoid the huge Kryptonian's foot from stepping on him and trying to fly away.
They could almost fell Clark's despair as the giant held his cape and pulled him down, his head breaking the ground when it hit. Faora tried to punch him again, only to be blocked and pulled down again, Clark tossing her against the big one so he could finally fly away; except Faora was still holding his leg and the other one managed to jump after them, bringing them down.
The three aliens came back to the ground with force, breaking everything in their way, rolling with their limbs tangled for several meters. When they stopped, the huge Kryptonian brought both of his arms down, trying to smash Clark; he managed to dodge at the last second, only to be held in place by Faora. Taking his chance, the big alien tried to punch him, but Clark was able to hold his arm.
There was a tense few seconds when they couldn't see what was happening, and then two red beams came out from Clark's eyes, hitting both Kryptonians and sending them back as if burned.
"I'm seeing this, but I still can't believe it," Steve said, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Neither could Tony. They thought Loki was bad, but this? This was a completely different level of scary. They were like Asgardians on steroids; like small Hulk's, but much faster than the Big Guy, and, of course, clear minded. That made things much, much worse. The Hulk, as frightening as he was, could be outmaneuvered with intelligence; Kryptonians, even as strong as they were, were probably even more intelligent than humans.
Not for the first time since General Zod's threat, Tony felt himself shivering. What was happening in that small city was… he didn't even have the words to describe it. How the hell were they supposed to stop them?
"We have soldiers approaching," Clint said, his eyes switching between the footage and the Quinjet's controls.
"What is Ross thinking?!" Banner exclaimed, seeing the soldier approach on foot.
"They are going to die," Cap said, taking his hand to his face.
It was a fair assumption, Tony thought, gritting his teeth.
"Rangers, I need you to engage the targets!" Ross said, looking down from his helicopter to see the three aliens on the street.
"Guardian, this is Battle 01, what about the guy in blue?"
"I said engage all targets!" the general screamed back.
His pulse was fast as the helicopters approached, the rangers down there creating a perimeter around the targets. As if one, everybody began to shoot, the machine guns of the helicopters raining down bullets on the aliens.
Ross was reminded of the Hulk when he saw the bullets hitting the targets and being deflected, as if their skin was made of steel; the continued attack, however, was keeping them in place, the force of the shots pinning them down.
That was, until that huge armored alien stepped to the side and picked up a parked van; and tossed it against his own helicopter.
His jaw dropped when he saw the white van in the air, passing by his window, and hitting the helicopter's tail rotor. It began to spin without control, coming down, except for the soldier standing at the door; he was tossed out. There was absolutely nothing he could do as the man fell to his death, yelling, and Ross felt the rage burning inside him when one more of his men was killed by a monstrosity.
He didn't die, however. Holding as best as he could while the helicopter span out of control, Ross watched as the alien in blue, with the "S" on his chest, dashed forward, managing to pick his soldier before he hit the ground. Ross was speechless, as he watched the alien pull his man up, safe and sound, and then toss him to the side as the giant one appeared out of nothing and punched his face, throwing him to the other side of the street.
That was the last he saw, as his helicopter began to fall to the ground.
"We're going in hard! Brace for impact! Brace for impact! We're going in hard!"
"Guardian is down, I repeat, Guardian is down!"
Steve watched in silence, as Ross's helicopter crashed on the street.
"My god!" he heard Banner mutter by his side.
It didn't blow up, so there was a chance that he was alive; unfortunately, there was nothing he could do from there, he lamented. Trying to not think about it, he turned his attention to the rangers approaching Zod's sub-commander, rifles pointed at her.
They began to shoot, the bullets hitting her armor and being deflected; her breather extended back up, covering her face, and she jumped, falling by the soldier's side. She just stood there for a moment, letting the gunfire hit her without any damage, then punched the closest man, her fist breaking his neck instantly.
She dashed to the front, becoming a blur in the air, hitting and killing another soldier and grabbing the third by the throat; carrying the man, she dashed again, her hand closing around the neck of the forth soldier, only to throw them with extreme force against two others, no doubt killing them all.
They could only watch, astounded, as Faora began to attack the rangers, basically disappearing in air because of her speed, each punch killing a soldier, tossing them far away with broken bodies. She picked up a part of the fuselage from the fallen jet and threw it against a group of men, the heavy part flying in the air as if it weighted nothing, crushing the soldiers against a wall.
It was like watching a god stepping on ants. Those men never had a chance.
"Okay, that's enough," Stark said, suddenly, his helmet closing.
He punched the button and opened the door of the Quinjet.
"What are you doing?!" Steve yelled.
"This thing is taking too long to arrive, those people are being slaughtered," Tony answered. "I can get there faster."
"And then what?" Steve asked, his voice loud so he could be heard in that wind. "Do you think you can stop them alone?"
"I have a better chance than them." He looked back, at Steve. "Don't worry, I've got a plan of attack: attack!"
And saying that, to Steve's frustration, he jumped out, his repulsors leaving a trail when he passed the Quinjet flying fast.
Clark flew against Nam-Ek, punching the huge Kryptonian with everything he had, his fists doing nothing. He held both of his hands, as if in a contest of strength; Clark grunted with effort, actually feeling his hands being overpowered.
He jumped up, planning to take the fight to his field, taking Nam-Ek with him; the behemoth just tossed him back down, his body making a hole in the ground, and he had to move fast to avoid Nam-Ek's knee coming with full power against his face.
Clark couldn't believe this. He had never met anyone that was stronger than him, but Nam-Ek was. For the first time in his life he was being physically outclassed.
Except that shouldn't be possible. At all. He was under a yellow sun for all his life; his muscles had soaked in that energy since he was a baby, making themselves harder than steel; he was not breathing Krypton's atmosphere, so his powers weren't being stunted, like Nam-Ek's were. There shouldn't be any reason for him to be weaker than him.
You are my son, a member of the House of El, and you are more powerful than you can even imagine. When you realize this, you'll see that you don't need to be afraid of anything ever again.
Could it be... His father's words played in his mind, as he traded blows with Nam-Ek. There was no reason for him to be weaker than Nam-Ek; he was searching for it, for the cause of such difference when there shouldn't be any, but there was no reason.
He spent so much time around breakable people… It was time, at least for once, to stop holding back.
General Ross groaned in pain as he tried to get free from the fallen helicopter, trying to take off his seat belt. He managed to do it, sliding out, only to be met by the sight of his entire troop dead on the floor; and the alien woman looking at him.
Desperately, he reached for his submachine, pointing at her and firing; she jumped in air, landing on top of a car in front of him, his bullets doing absolutely nothing against her. When he was out of bullets, he switched to his pistol, aiming at her head, trying to find a weak point. He discharged his weapon against her face, the bullets flying to the side without leaving so much as a mark.
She retracted that breather of hers and looked at him, smiling ironically; he was out of bullets now.
At that moment, a sound called their attention, something arriving fast. She looked to the side and jumped back, just in time to avoid the red fist of Stark's suit coming down from the sky, breaking the ground.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Stark asked.
Ross was torn between relief and annoyance.
Tony got up and looked at the sub-commander, Jarvis cataloguing everything he could about her, looking for any weakness; he wasn't having much luck.
"Has the Asgardian arrived?" Faora asked, responding to his taunt with one of her own; Stark was both impressed and offended.
Without answering, he lifted his hands and fired his repulsors against her, only to see her dodging to the side; he did it again, and again she blurred a few inches to the side, only enough to let the beams pass at her side.
Without warning, he flew against her, trying to cut the distance, maybe that way he could hit her; she just stood there, waiting for him, her blue eyes fixed on his movements. Getting in touching distance of her, Tony fired again, aiming at her head, only to see her move it to the side; with his other hand, he fired against her chest, but before he could connect, she slapped his hand to the side, making the repulsor pass harmless at her side.
"Jarvis, analyze her patterns!" He yelled in his helmet, simply unable to hit her, as she danced within distance, dodging his beams.
"Right away, sir."
He could see the patterns being mapped in his visor, his A.I working fast, trying to deduce from her previous moves what the next one would be; when his targeting glowed, indicating success, he allowed Jarvis to move his arm to the exact spot.
His repulsor hit her right on the face; and nothing happened.
She didn't even move an inch, it was like his repulsor wasn't anything more than a breeze to her. It did, however, call her attention; he had hit her, so she retaliated. With one blow against his chest, Tony was sent flying against a car, folding the metal when he hit it.
"Contusions detected, sir."
Really?! Getting up, he rose to the sky, trying to get distance between them. Clearly close quarters combat wasn't getting him anywhere. Confirming that Ross had taken the right approach and disappeared from there, he raised his arm and fired his tank-missile against her; she didn't even try to dodge, and the entire street was engulfed in flames.
He scanned the field for her, only to lose his breath when she appeared from the flames right in front of his face, jumping all the way up to where he was. Her armored body hit his heavily, and he felt her hands grab him; his repulsors were no match to her strength, when she sent him down to the ground again.
And then, before he could have a chance to do anything, she was on him. He took a punch on the side of the head, was sent flying, only to be stopped by another punch in an opposite direction.
"Jarvis, read her movements!" he yelled, as she hit him again.
"Sir, I-" Jarvis couldn't complete what he was about to say, because she hit him again, throwing him on the ground. "I can't predict…"
Her hands grabbed his arm and he felt the metal bending under her fingers.
"Critical damage on the right arm, sir," Jarvis stated.
He tried to pull his arm back, only to feel a blow to the leg.
"Critical damage on the left leg, sir."
Tony kneeled down with the unresponsive leg, and pointed the repulsor of his left hand to her; only to see her countering the beam with her own hand, grabbing his own.
"Critical damage on the left hand, sir!"
"Shut up, Jarvis!"
BOOOM! He was sent flying when she hit his head again and he got his wish, feeling his visor going black as Jarvis rebooted. He rolled on the ground, trying to stop bouncing on the asphalt, only to be kicked again, her foot bending the metal on his chest enough for him to feel it on his own body.
"Still think you are my equal, human?" Faora asked, her foot pressing him against the ground like he had a mountain on top of it.
He would have answered with a quip if he could talk, but sadly it wasn't possible; he could just move his one functioning arm against her, trying to force her out, while she continued to smash his armor.
"Reboot complete," Jarvis announced, his voice as tranquil as if he was announcing tea time.
"Put everything you got on the Unibeam!" he forced himself to yell under her crushing foot.
"Right away, sir."
His chest began to glow under Faora's feet and she raised an eyebrow; right before the biggest Unibeam blast Tony had ever seen explode from his chest, directly under her feet. The blast tossed her up high in the sky, giving Tony a chance to breathe, hope blossoming in him.
And then she just flipped in the sky with amazing grace and landed back on the ground, completely unscathed.
Well, now he was well and truly fucked, wasn't he?
At that exact moment, as if divine providence was working with him, Tony heard the engines of the Quinjet; and its machine guns. The bullets hit Faora, pinning her on place, as the Quinjet turned. And then, Captain America jumped out from it, his body behind his shield, right on top of Faora.
The shield hit her, the vibranium properties deflecting all the strength of the blow back, sending her a few meters behind while Cap landed on the street. Without waiting for her to think, Steve ran to her, hitting with everything he had, his movements incredibly graceful and deadly.
"Jarvis, try to restore what you can," he ordered, trying to get back in the fight.
Steve was moving as fast as he could, hitting as hard as he could. He had seen what Faora did to Stark and he wasn't stupid enough to think the serum had made his body as resistant as that armor of his, so he was prepared to defend himself with his shield when she attacked; but she didn't.
No, she was just dodging, her movements graceful, his fists hitting air every time. He tried to hit her with his shield, jumping, kicking, even tried to headbutt her once; it never connected. She was just too fast.
He stopped for a moment, looking at her; she just looked back, smiling, waiting for him. She was playing with him; worse than Loki did in Germany.
"Cap, down!" he heard Tony yell and did as he asked.
A single red laser beam passed right where he was, hitting Faora right in the face; he could see her eyes following the red light, completely unconcerned, and in any moment she attempted to dodge or block it, even though he knew very well she could have.
Tony had to know this; so the only explanation is that it was a distraction.
As fast as he could, Steve threw his shield at her face, putting all his strength in the attack. She shield flew, becoming a blur; only to be caught, effortlessly by her hand.
For the first time, she looked impressed.
"Vibranium?" she asked, studying the shield. "One of the most versatile metals in the universe and you use it to make a shield? Primitives."
Steve didn't have a chance to say anything, because Clint brought the Quinjet back at that moment, shooting at her. Faora raised his shield, deflecting the bullets to the side, almost as if interested in seeing the metal in action; and then she looked at him, smiling.
He understood what she would do at the same time.
"Clint, get out of here!" he screamed.
Faora twisted her entire body, as graceful as a gymnast, and threw his vibranium shield at the Quinjet; she did it with such strength that the shield almost teleported itself to its target, the familiar sound of the metal echoing in the air.
The Quinjet's wing was simply cut off from the jet, as the vibranium shield turned into a spinning saw and slashed it; fire and sparks rose when the shield hit it, black smoke going up to the sky, as the Quinjet began to fall down.
Steve and Tony could only look as the jet crashed on the street, luckily not blowing up, but hard enough to hurt whoever was inside. Faora looked at him.
"I think I can see the appeal now," she said.
And at the moment she said that, there was a huge roar coming out from the fallen Quinjet; the Hulk had awakened.
Clark clashed against Nam-Ek with all his power, the blow creating shockwaves in the air. Hovering over the ground, faster than Nam-Ek could move, he punched the giant's face, letting all his power connect with the blow, for once not holding himself back. Nam-Ek grunted in pain, turning his head to the side, so Clark hit him again with his other hand, and a third and a fourth time. He was moving so fast that Nam-Ek couldn't even predict his attacks anymore.
The soldiers were firing upon them non-stop, the bullets ricocheting away, as Clark dashed to Nam-Ek, grabbing him from behind, and flying up, carrying the big Kryptonian with him all the way to the sky; and them he released him, hitting him with a powerful punch.
Nam-Ek was sent flying in the distance, colliding against a stopped train; a huge explosion followed it.
Faora, ignoring the battered man that was escaping the crash, looked at the big green monster that had emerged from the fallen jet, studying it. She had seen footage of it fighting, already knowing it had a great deal of physical strength; not much more intelligence than an animal, though.
As if to prove this, the beast roared to her, trying to intimidate her; foolish thing. She just watched as it ripped the other wing from the fallen jet and tossed it against her. Faora didn't even move, letting the wing break itself against her.
Seeing this, the green beast started to run in her direction, always roaring, its huge muscular arms ready to attack her. She just waited. When it was right in front of her, it tried to punch her. She was right, it had a great deal of strength, more than she would think possible on a human, enhanced or not; but it wasn't nearly fast enough to touch her.
Turning her body, she allowed the big fist pass close to her and, jumping to reach its head, Faora kicked with her Kryptonian strength; the beast was sent flying against a vehicle, its huge body smashing it to bits. Would it get up?
She had her answer when the vehicle was sent flying in her direction; she almost sighed. Lifting her arms, she held the vehicle in air and tossed it back, hitting the monster's face head on. It roared in pain but it didn't stop running towards her. She would have to teach it a lesson.
Dodging its blows again, Faora unleashed a flurry of attacks against its head, hitting as strongly as she could, tossing the green beast to one side to the other. The animal simply didn't have a chance to react, too dumb and slow to try anything else than punching, Faora's limbs becoming blurs in the air as she attacked.
Dumb as it may be, the beast was resistant. No matter how much Faora hit, it just wouldn't go down. With a powerful roar, it brought his arms against the ground, the incredibly powerful blow opening a huge hole in the street that continued all the way to the buildings; the whole place seemed to shake.
Faora almost lost her balance, dodging the punch at the last second.
It was dumb and slow, but it was apparently getting stronger by the minute. What were its limits? She would like to know, but in the end, it was irrelevant. Dodging again, she jumped and kicked its head one more time, throwing the beast against its companions. Before it could get up, she reached for her black knife.
It might heal indefinitely and get stronger as it became enraged, but Faora doubted it could survive without a head.
She looked at the pitiful bunch of warriors in front of her: an armored man, broken and useless out of its shell; a soldier who didn't have the strength necessary to protect his people; an… archer, as difficult as it was to believe; and a mindless beast, no more than a big animal. Were these the Avengers that had defeated Loki? Maybe Asgardians were just as pathetic then.
Faora pointed the knife at them.
"A good death is its own reward," she announced, willing to at least let them die as warriors.
She held their stare, waiting for them to position themselves, the three of them getting up and preparing to attack; she contracted her muscles, ready to dash against them and end this.
And at that instant, she heard a supersonic noise and felt the strongest hit she had ever taken.
Clark's fist connected against the side of Faora's head, the hit so brutal that she was almost buried in the asphalt; it had to be, if he wanted to break her helmet like he did with Zod. Turning in air, he landed, his feet breaking the ground as he stopped.
He looked around, seeing the scene of destruction everywhere. Dead soldiers, broken cars, houses destroyed; the Avengers, thankfully alive, were looking at him, eyes wide. He turned to Faora, his expression severe.
She was getting up, groaning in pain, her helmet broken like Zod's. She looked at him defiantly.
"You will not win. For every human you save, we will kill a million more."
And then the sensory overload became too much to her, as the engine of a jet approached.
"If you can listen to me, take cover!" Clark heard Natasha saying at the radio.
The Avengers, minus the Hulk, ran from there, taking as much distance as they could, right in the moment Natasha fired a missile. Before he could see it hit, however, Clark heard something else and looked to the side.
There was a train in the sky.
He was so surprised that instead of moving, he tried to stop it. It didn't work so well. The train fell hard on top of him, throwing him inside a building. Even under it, however, Clark could hear the missile hitting its target.
"Do we have an all clear? Do we have an all clear? Alpha Team, do you copy?"
The soldiers approached the building carefully, weapons raised, looking without blinking at the broken train inside of it. With slow steps, sweat running down their faces, they got closer.
The train moved; they stopped, immediately, ready to retreat.
Clark got out from under the train, tired, looking at the soldiers; all the weapons were pointed at him, but nobody was firing. He looked at them for a moment, studying their faces; they were scared. They were apprehensive. But they weren't looking at him as if he were the enemy.
Tentatively, he began to walk, very slowly; still no one shot him. They were just looking at him, watching Clark approach. And then they began to lower their weapons, opening space so he could pass in the middle of them.
There was awe in their eyes. Fear too, yes, but they weren't seeing him as a threat; they were gazing at him with respect.
He got out to the street, all eyes on him, to see the Avengers arriving, Captain America in front. He looked at him and nodded, then looked at the soldier around them.
"This man is not our enemy," he announced, the Avengers behind him agreeing.
Clark returned the nod.
"Thank you, Captain."
"See you back at the Helicarrier," he said.
Clark nodded again and flew to the sky.
Zod and his soldiers walked to the Black Zero's bridge, their faces showing exactly how frustrated with the situation they were. Jax-Ur looked at them, surprised.
"What happened down there?" he asked.
"He exposed a temporary weakness," Zod summarized, not in the mood to talk.
"It is of little consequence," Jax-Ur retorted, "because I have located the Codex!"
Every eye in the room turned to him, the good news filling them with energy.
"It was never in the capsule," he continued. "Jor-El took the Codex, the DNA of a billion people, then he bonded it within his son's individual cells. All of Krypton's heirs, living hidden in one refuge's body."
Zod stared at Jax-Ur for a moment, then turned, looking at Earth from the big window.
"Does Kal-El need to be alive for us to extract the Codex from his cells?" he asked, the sun shining in his face.
Jax-Ur was thinking for a second.
"No."
General Zod kept staring at the big world in front of him, all his desire to have it burning within him.
"Release the World Engine!" he ordered.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone