**BOOM**
The shockwave struck the room like a hammer—first from Nearithea breaching the sound barrier, and then again as her punch connected with Superman and sent him crashing into the sky.
The air inside the room folded violently. With no ornaments or fragile aesthetics to cushion the blast, it was the people who suffered.
**WHOOOSH**
Chairs skidded. Files flew. The pressure drop hit everyone at once.
Tala was knocked sideways, her dress flaring as she slammed into Cheshire, who had already half-fallen from leaning too far back. "Ugh—watch it," Cheshire groaned, her smirk somehow surviving the impact as they tumbled against each other.
Poison Ivy hit the floor with a soft thud, her heels sliding out beneath her as she let out an irritated breath and muttered, "Unbelievable."
Mercy toppled sideways and hit her elbow against the table's edge. "Dammit," she growled, already halfway glaring at Arias before she'd even finished falling.
Harley rolled off her seat entirely, landed on her back with a dramatic grunt, then stayed there as if unsure whether this was part of a dream. "...Ow?" she offered to no one.
Slade had tried to brace, but the force caught him off-balance and slammed him backward into the chair behind him. "Tch. Should've seen that coming," he muttered, eyes half-lidded but slightly impressed.
Rose didn't even try to catch herself, falling sideways and taking her half-finished energy drink down with her. "Goddammit," she muttered, wiping her face. "I just opened that."
Dr. October simply allowed herself to fall, her arms folded as she hit the ground with a soft grunt, blinking twice, then muttering, "Noted... field effect stress exceeds seventy kilopascals."
Terra let out a startled yelp as she slid off her chair and bumped into the wall, catching herself with one hand. Raven hit the floor with barely a sound, already pulling herself upright with practiced resignation.
Dr. June groaned, fixing her glasses as she sat upright. "That was... something."
Diana was the first to move, already standing tall before the dust had fully settled. She turned toward the ruined window—the cracked glass a jagged halo around a massive, Superman-sized hole.
Beyond it, only the sound of rushing wind and the distant skyline.
She tilted her head, listening.
In the far distance, she caught the soft, successive booms of shockwaves echoing through the upper atmosphere.
"Will your child be alright?" she asked, without looking back.
Arias didn't hesitate. "She'll be just fine."
And with that, the others began rising—some more begrudgingly than others.
Mercy dusted herself off aggressively, shooting Arias a glare sharp enough to draw blood. "A warning would've been nice," she muttered. Not to anyone specific. Just out of protest.
Her voice was drowned out as Diana stepped closer to Arias, brushing a curl of hair behind her ear with careful precision.
"In that case," she said, her tone as formal as ever, "I shall have you assist me with the assignment you spoke of. I'm yet to fully comprehend how your world's technology operates."
Arias turned to her with the faintest smile—not at the request, but at the lie behind it. Diana could handle the Leviathan interface well enough. He knew. She knew. That was what made it amusing.
"Not a problem," he replied. "Let's head to my office."
Behind him, Slade stood and stretched. "I should also get back to mine," he said, walking toward the exit. "My secretary and I have… loads of work to do."
Ivy scoffed behind him, already rolling her eyes. "Men," she muttered, disgusted.
Slade slowed, looked back over his shoulder, and narrowed his one eye. "I know you're not talking, scissor queen. At least I don't drug my partners."
Ivy turned red—not from embarrassment, but rage. "It's a pheromone, you imbecile! It—"
"I think," Arias cut in, not looking back, "let's wrap this up for now."
He stopped briefly, turning his head just enough to catch the room in his peripheral.
"If you have any trouble or questions with your assignments, reach out. Preferably before someone else crashes through a wall."
With that, he turned and strode toward the exit. Diana followed close behind, her steps light, measured, and somehow smug.
There was pride in her posture, yes—but more than that, there was intent. The kind of intent that made the rest of the room watch her go, wondering whether this was strategy, seduction, or something in between.
"Wait up, Mr. M!" Harley called out suddenly, stumbling after them, hair tangled and pajama shirt crooked. "I need help too!"
Arias didn't respond, but the doors slid open regardless, admitting all three into the hall.
The others lingered a moment longer, exchanging glances, adjusting clothes, brushing off bruised egos.
"I have to call someone to fix this place," Mercy grumbled, still fuming. "Ugh."
And just like that, the meeting was over.
———
Meanwhile, Superman's body carved through the Gotham skyline like a missile gone rogue.
The initial blow had been brutal—unexpected more for its speed than its strength. He'd been hit by powerhouses before, but Nearithea had moved with something more than force. Precision. Intent. Like she didn't just want him gone, she wanted him discarded.
He caught himself just before colliding with a high-rise near Gotham's coastline. CRACK—the sound of air being forced aside as he decelerated violently, hovering just meters above a rooftop antenna that swayed from the sudden proximity.
Jaw clenched, he hovered still for a second, eyes scanning, ears tuned.
Then she appeared.
Above him. Unbothered.
Nearithea floated with her arms folded and a bored look on her face, boots barely pointed downward as if gravity was an inconvenience she'd already dismissed.
"Daddy said you're a bit like me," she said, tilting her head with an exaggerated squint. "But how come you're so weak? Are you sick or something?"
It wasn't taunting. It wasn't even cruel. It was honest—brutally so, the kind only children and zealots could pull off.
Superman's brow furrowed, but he kept his posture neutral. His body still ached from the impact, but he could shake that off. It wasn't the pain that bothered him—it was the implication.
"I'm not your enemy," he said, rising a little to match her altitude. "And I don't want to fight you."
His voice was calm. Measured.
"Whatever Arias—your father—told you about me… it's not true. He's not who you think he is."
Nearithea blinked once. Then again. Slowly. She tilted her head the other direction, as if rolling the idea around in her mind like a loose marble.
Then came the smirk. "Of course he's right."
She floated a little closer, expression shifting from blank to smug.
"He said you're like me. Except instead of actually changing anything, you just fly around beating up baddies." She shrugged with exaggerated innocence. "Heh. Is it 'cause you're too weak?"
She grinned wider. "Don't worry. Daddy has me now."
Her eyes glowed faintly. "Now get lost."
Superman didn't budge.
"Just listen—" he started, holding out a hand. "You're being used. He's using you as a weapon—"
**CRACK**
He didn't even see her move.
One moment she was in front of him. The next, she wasn't.
The punch came from behind—blinding, precise. It hit square against his jaw and echoed through the air like a localized explosion. **BOOM**
He staggered, nearly sent flying again, but something caught him before inertia took over.
His cape.
She'd grabbed it mid-blow.
Before he could stabilize, she yanked him back with brutal efficiency and drove a vicious uppercut into his abdomen, her knuckles connecting with enough force to send a shockwave across the nearby rooftops.
**THOOM**
Superman was airborne again—straight up. Arms flailed instinctively before he steadied himself mid-ascent, wind whistling past him as he vanished into the sky.
Below, Nearithea hovered in place, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead as if swatting a fly.
"Geez," she muttered to herself. "He talks too much."
She exhaled once, then turned and shot back toward Leviathan Tower, her flight path leaving a sharp line across the morning clouds.
The city watched. Or maybe it didn't.
Either way, Nearithea didn't care.
She had done what Daddy asked.