The flight to Fawcett Central Park took exactly seven minutes and thirty-two seconds, which was approximately six minutes and fifty-seven seconds longer than Billy Batson would have preferred, considering that his city was currently being terrorized by what appeared to be a dimensional rift that looked like someone had taken reality and folded it like a badly made origami crane.
Shazam (who was Billy, but also wasn't, because magic is complicated and asking too many questions about it tends to give people headaches) streaked through the sky alongside Eidolon, whose cape billowed behind him in that dramatic way that suggested he'd either practiced the look extensively or had invested in really expensive wind-management technology.
"You know," Eidolon said, his electronically modulated voice carrying that particular British accent that made even the most dire observations sound like polite dinner conversation, "I'm beginning to suspect that our dear Dr. Sivana has been reading theoretical physics journals again. And by reading, I mean 'applying with the kind of reckless enthusiasm that typically precedes either Nobel prizes or apocalyptic disasters requiring immediate evacuation of major metropolitan areas.'"
From the air, the dimensional disturbance looked exactly like what would happen if someone took a perfectly normal city park and decided to redecorate it using principles of geometry that mathematicians had specifically labeled as "probably a bad idea" and "likely to cause existential crises in people who think too hard about spatial relationships."
The park below them was doing things that parks weren't supposed to do. Trees were growing at angles that disagreed with gravity, shadows were falling upward in some places, and the pond appeared to be reflecting not the sky above it, but what looked suspiciously like the inside of someone's secret laboratory, complete with ominous humming machinery and probably a coffee machine, because even megalomaniacal scientists needed their caffeine.
"Well," Shazam observed, his voice carrying that particular note of someone who'd just confirmed their worst suspicions about their Tuesday evening plans, "that's definitely not natural. That's the kind of artificial weirdness that screams 'trap designed by someone with advanced degrees and questionable decision-making capabilities.'"
The civilians below were fleeing with the kind of panic that suggested their survival instincts were working perfectly. They'd correctly identified the situation as the sort of crisis that required immediate relocation to safer geographical areas, preferably several time zones away from whatever was making the laws of physics cry.
Emergency vehicles surrounded the perimeter at what appeared to be a carefully calculated distance—close enough to help if needed, far enough away to avoid being consumed by whatever Dr. Sivana had done to local spacetime. The paramedics and firefighters looked like they were having the kind of day that would require extensive therapy and probably some very creative incident reports.
"Trap confirmed," Shazam said, because pointing out the obvious was apparently part of his heroic duties. "The question is whether it's designed to kill us quickly, capture us for some elaborate villain monologue, or just give us a really educational lecture about applied dimensional physics before attempting murder."
"Oh, definitely the monologue," Eidolon replied with the confidence of someone who'd had extensive professional experience with megalomaniacal scientists. "Dr. Sivana strikes me as the type who'd want to explain exactly how clever his plan was before attempting to vaporize us with equipment that probably cost more than most countries' space programs. It's a very common character flaw among the highly educated villain demographic."
They descended toward the center of the disturbance, where reality was having the kind of serious disagreements with itself that usually required intervention from people with cosmic-level abilities and flexible approaches to the fundamental laws of nature.
The dimensional distortion was centered around what had once been a perfectly normal gazebo, but was now serving as the focal point for energies that made the air taste like copper pennies and disappointed physicists. The ground around it was cracked in patterns that looked suspiciously like mathematical equations, which was either very concerning or very impressive, depending on your personal feelings about weaponized mathematics.
"I do hope he's improved his fashion sense since our last encounter," Eidolon mused as they approached the center of the chaos. "That last costume made him look like he'd raided a discount science fiction convention."
That was when the trap activated.
The dimensional distortion collapsed inward with a sound like mathematics having a nervous breakdown, and suddenly the air around them was filled with what could only be described as mechanical serpents made of liquid metal and malevolent artificial intelligence. Each one was approximately the size of a subway train and moved with predatory grace that suggested they'd been designed by someone who understood both engineering and intimidation as complementary art forms.
"Oh, lovely," Eidolon said, his voice carrying that particular tone of someone who'd just been presented with an interesting technical challenge. "Liquid metal construct serpents with adaptive behavioral protocols. Someone's been having fun with nanotechnology and probably several international treaties regarding the development of exotic weapons systems."
The serpents attacked simultaneously, their forms shifting and flowing as they moved, adapting their tactics in real-time as they engaged with targets that were considerably more dangerous than their programming had probably anticipated. Their metal surfaces rippled with energy that made the air around them shimmer like heat waves, except these heat waves were trying to eat people.
Shazam met the first wave with lightning and divine fury, golden energy crackling through the air as he demonstrated why threatening innocent people was traditionally considered a spectacularly poor career choice. His lightning didn't just hit the serpents—it coursed through them like they were really expensive electrical conductors, which, considering their composition, they probably were.
"Ha!" Shazam shouted as he punched through the nearest serpent with the kind of satisfaction that came from successfully applying divine retribution to people who definitely deserved it. "Note to self: liquid metal creatures are still metal creatures, and metal conducts electricity really, really well!"
Eidolon's approach was more subtle but infinitely more terrifying. His crimson magic reached out to touch the serpents' control systems and politely suggest that perhaps they'd prefer to attack their creator instead of continuing their current tactical objectives. It was the kind of magical persuasion that worked on artificial intelligence the same way it worked on organic minds—by making them realize that their current life choices were probably not optimal for their long-term survival.
"There's something deeply satisfying," Eidolon observed as he watched three serpents suddenly turn on each other with mechanical precision, "about convincing someone's own weapons that their creator is actually the more reasonable target. It's like therapy, but with more explosions and significantly less talking about feelings."
The battle was spectacular, violent, and exactly the kind of distraction that allowed Dr. Sivana to emerge from his concealed position with the smug satisfaction of someone whose elaborate plan was proceeding exactly as intended.
He was wearing what appeared to be a full-body containment suit that looked like it had been designed by someone who'd watched too many science fiction movies and had access to materials that definitely weren't available through normal scientific equipment suppliers. The suit hummed with energy that made the air taste like ozone and regret, and was covered in devices that probably violated several laws of physics and definitely violated several international treaties about weapons development.
In his hands was a weapon that looked like someone had taken a satellite dish, crossed it with a particle accelerator, and powered the result with pure malevolence and probably the gross domestic product of a small country.
"Excellent!" Dr. Sivana called out, his voice amplified by speakers built into his containment suit and carrying that particular note of megalomaniacal satisfaction that usually preceded either spectacular victory or equally spectacular defeat. His accent was crisp, precise, and carried the kind of authority that came from years of advanced education and questionable life choices.
"Perfect tactical positioning, exactly as calculated! Really, gentlemen, you're far too predictable. Heroes always charge directly into obvious traps because you simply cannot resist the opportunity to save people who are in danger through no fault of their own."
The weapon powered up with a sound like reality being torn in half, and suddenly Eidolon found himself surrounded by what appeared to be a localized dimensional prison—not designed to kill him, but to keep him occupied while Sivana dealt with the more immediate threat posed by Shazam's divine abilities and tendency toward expensive property damage when properly motivated.
"Oh, how delightfully sophisticated," Eidolon observed, his voice carrying that particular tone of professional appreciation mixed with mild annoyance at being temporarily inconvenienced by someone's creative application of theoretical physics. "Dimensional anchor combined with localized reality distortion. Expensive, elegant, and probably utterly ineffective against someone who's been having personal conversations with the fundamental forces of magic since before your great-grandfather learned to read."
He tested the boundaries of his prison with casual curiosity, like someone examining an interesting puzzle rather than a potentially lethal containment system. "Though I must admit, the craftsmanship is impressive. Did you develop this yourself, or did you have help from interdimensional entities with questionable moral standards?"
But the dimensional prison was holding, at least temporarily, which gave Sivana exactly the opening he needed to focus his primary weapon on Shazam.
"And now," Sivana announced with the kind of theatrical satisfaction that suggested he'd been practicing this speech in front of mirrors for weeks, "we come to the main event! You see, I've studied your abilities extensively, analyzed your power source, identified your primary vulnerability, and developed a targeted solution that will render you completely helpless while leaving you conscious enough to watch everything you've tried to protect be systematically destroyed by superior scientific planning!"
His weapon's targeting system locked onto Shazam with mechanical precision, and suddenly the air around Billy was filled with energy that felt wrong in ways that made his divine senses recoil in instinctive horror. This wasn't just an attack—it was surgery performed with energy beams, specifically designed to disrupt the neural pathways that allowed him to speak the word that accessed his powers.
"You see," Sivana continued, clearly enjoying his opportunity to explain his clever solution to what he perceived as an inferior opponent, "your magic requires verbal activation. A simple limitation, really, but one that can be exploited by someone with sufficient understanding of neurological systems and electromagnetic frequencies."
The energy washed over Shazam with surgical precision, targeting his throat and vocal cords with technology that understood magic better than most wizards and had been designed specifically to neutralize his particular abilities. It felt like someone was systematically disconnecting telephone lines, except the telephone lines were the connection between his consciousness and cosmic forces that could level mountains.
"You cannot call upon your magic if you cannot speak!" Sivana declared, his voice rising with triumph as the weapon's effects began to take hold. "And without your magic, you are simply a very vulnerable fourteen-year-old boy in an adult's body, facing the kind of scientific superiority that your primitive mystical abilities simply cannot overcome!"
Shazam tried to speak, to call out the word that would summon lightning and divine intervention, but found that his voice was gone—not damaged, not injured, but simply disconnected from his conscious control by technology that had turned vocal communication into an impossibility.
For the first time in years, Shazam found himself facing a threat that his powers couldn't simply overwhelm through the application of sufficient divine force and righteous determination. It was like being a knight who'd suddenly discovered his sword was made of foam rubber, or a chef who'd found out his oven only worked on Wednesdays.
"Fascinating," Eidolon observed from his dimensional prison, his voice carrying that particular British understatement that made even dire situations sound like minor inconveniences. "Though I must point out, Dr. Sivana, that your research appears to have missed some rather significant details about the nature of Billy's power source."
"What are you talking about?" Sivana demanded, his voice carrying just a hint of uncertainty that suggested maybe his research hadn't been quite as comprehensive as he'd believed.
"Well," Eidolon said conversationally, "you've made the rather fundamental assumption that magical power is like scientific energy—contained, limited, controlled by individual sources and technological restrictions. It's a very reasonable assumption for someone with your educational background, but unfortunately, it's also completely wrong."
And that was when the Wizard intervened.
Deep in the Rock of Eternity, in chambers that existed outside normal space and time where the original wielder of Shazam's power maintained his eternal vigil over magical forces that protected reality from threats that most people couldn't imagine and definitely wouldn't want to think about, the ancient Wizard felt the attack on his chosen champion.
The Wizard (whose actual name was unpronounceable by human vocal cords and probably required at least three degrees in theoretical linguistics to even attempt) had been watching the battle with the kind of patient attention that came from having lived for several millennia and having seen this sort of thing before. He'd been hoping that Billy could handle the situation without requiring additional intervention, but Dr. Sivana's weapon was more sophisticated than expected.
"Enough," the Wizard said, his voice echoing through dimensions with the kind of authority that made fundamental forces of nature stop what they were doing and pay attention.
*Billy*, the Wizard's voice echoed through dimensions, reaching not just into Shazam's mind but extending outward to touch the consciousness of five other people who'd proven themselves worthy of power through their courage, their loyalty, and their willingness to risk everything for family and justice.
The voice reached across the city to where Mary Bromfield was coordinating tactical support from her secure position in the Vasquez family apartment, her laptop displaying real-time intelligence about the battle unfolding in the park. She was seventeen, brilliant, and had the kind of strategic mind that could probably conquer small countries if properly motivated by threats to her family's safety.
*Mary*, the voice continued, carrying the weight of ancient authority and infinite magical potential.
From his position in the same apartment, Eugene Choi looked up from his electronics setup, where multiple screens were displaying readings that suggested reality was experiencing some kind of fundamental shift in its baseline magical properties. Eugene was fourteen, a technological genius, and had the kind of creative problem-solving abilities that made conventional limitations irrelevant when properly applied to situations requiring immediate solutions.
*Eugene*, the Wizard said, his voice reaching out to the boy who'd proven that courage didn't require physical strength, just the willingness to stand up for what was right.
In another part of the city, Darla Dudley was coordinating civilian evacuation with the kind of tactical awareness that would have impressed military professionals. She was ten years old, eternally optimistic, and possessed the kind of strategic thinking that could turn chaotic situations into organized victories through superior logistics and unshakeable determination.
*Darla*, the Wizard continued, his voice carrying that particular warmth that suggested he understood exactly what he was asking and why it was necessary.
From his position coordinating with emergency services, Freddy Freeman felt the magic reaching out to him with an offer that was both terrifying and absolutely impossible to refuse. Freddy was fifteen, physically limited by a condition that made walking difficult, but possessed the kind of tactical brilliance and unwavering loyalty that made him invaluable in situations requiring both strategic planning and absolute trust.
*Freddy*, the Wizard said, his voice carrying recognition of worth that transcended physical limitations.
And finally, the voice reached Pedro Peña, who was managing transportation logistics with his characteristic quiet efficiency. Pedro was sixteen, usually reserved, but possessed the kind of steady reliability that made him the foundation upon which his family's success was built.
*Pedro*, the Wizard concluded, his ancient voice carrying affection and respect for all of them.
*The power that flows through Billy belongs not to him alone, but to all who would stand against the forces of evil with pure hearts and unshakeable determination. The magic that makes him Shazam can be shared among those who have proven themselves worthy through their actions, their courage, and their love for one another.*
Mary looked up from her laptop in shock as the Wizard's voice filled her mind, ancient and powerful and carrying an offer that would change everything about her understanding of what was possible for someone like her.
"Oh," she said quietly, her analytical mind immediately grasping the implications of what was being offered. "Oh my."
*Will you accept the responsibility of power?* the Wizard asked each of them individually while maintaining his connection to all of them collectively. *Will you stand with your brother against those who would harm the innocent? Will you speak the word that will make you champions of justice, defenders of truth, protectors of those who cannot protect themselves?*
Eugene's electronics suddenly began displaying readings that looked like someone had taken normal physics and decided to redecorate them with cosmic-level magical energies, and he could hear the Wizard's voice as clearly as if the ancient sorcerer was standing next to him offering the most incredible job interview in human history.
"This is..." Eugene began, then stopped, because there really weren't adequate words for what was happening. "This is the best Tuesday ever."
*The choice is yours*, the Wizard continued, his voice reaching out to each of them individually while maintaining the connection to Billy that allowed Shazam to continue fighting despite Sivana's technological assault on his abilities. *But know that if you accept, you accept not just power, but responsibility. Not just strength, but the burden of using it wisely. Not just the ability to fight evil, but the duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves.*
Darla, who had been efficiently organizing civilian evacuation routes with the kind of tactical precision that would have made military strategists weep with joy, felt the Wizard's presence in her mind and understood immediately what was being offered and what it would cost.
"Billy needs help," she said simply, because for Darla, that was really all the explanation necessary. "And we're family. That's what family does."
*We don't have time for lengthy deliberation*, the Wizard said, his voice carrying that particular urgency that suggested the window of opportunity was measured in seconds rather than minutes. *Billy needs help now, and the power is available to those who would use it in service of justice. Speak the word, and become more than you are. Speak the word, and stand as champions against the darkness.*
Freddy felt the magic reaching out to him and knew that this was the moment he'd been unconsciously preparing for his entire life—the chance to help, to matter, to stand alongside the people he loved and make a real difference in the world. His physical limitations had never stopped him from wanting to be a hero; they'd just made him more creative about finding ways to contribute.
"I've been waiting my whole life for this," Freddy said, his voice carrying that particular mix of excitement and determination that made him impossible to discourage. "Let's do this thing."
Pedro, managing transportation logistics with his characteristic quiet efficiency, felt the Wizard's offer and understood that accepting would change everything about his life, his future, his understanding of what was possible for someone who preferred to work behind the scenes.
"If it helps Billy," Pedro said quietly, because Pedro had never needed many words to express his loyalty. "If it helps our family. Then yes."
Mary looked at her laptop screen, where the tactical situation was clearly deteriorating despite Billy and Eidolon's best efforts, and made her decision with the kind of analytical precision that had always been her greatest strength.
"We're not going to let our brother face this alone," she said, her voice carrying that particular note of strategic determination that suggested someone had just made a decision that would change the course of the entire battle. "Not when we can help. Not when we're family."
*Shazam!* Mary called out, her voice carrying across the city as she made her choice without hesitation or doubt, accepting power and responsibility in equal measure because Billy needed help and she wasn't going to let her brother face this alone.
Lightning split the sky above the apartment, not the natural lightning of atmospheric disturbances, but the divine lightning of magical transformation, carrying power that had been held by gods and heroes throughout history and was now being shared with someone who'd proven herself worthy through her intelligence, her courage, and her absolute commitment to protecting the people she loved.
Mary Bromfield, seventeen-year-old strategic genius and protective older sister, blazed into existence as Lady Shazam, her adult form crackling with energy that tasted of wisdom and justice and the kind of strategic brilliance that could coordinate miracles and probably conquer small countries through superior logistics and ethical optimization.
She was still Mary, but she was also more—stronger, faster, smarter, and connected to magical forces that made her analytical capabilities feel like she'd just been upgraded from a calculator to a supercomputer with cosmic processing power.
"Oh," Lady Shazam said, her voice carrying Mary's analytical precision amplified by magical authority that made the air itself seem to pay attention when she spoke. "This is going to be fun."
*Shazam!* Eugene shouted from the apartment, his voice joining Mary's as lightning struck again and magic responded to someone who'd always believed that technology and magic weren't opposing forces, but complementary approaches to solving problems and protecting people.
Eugene Choi, fourteen-year-old technological prodigy and creative problem-solver, transformed into Lightning, his mastery of technology amplified by magical understanding of electrical forces and enhanced to levels that would make theoretical physicists weep with joy or terror depending on their personal feelings about the practical applications of supernatural electronics.
"YES!" Lightning exclaimed, his voice carrying Eugene's perpetual enthusiasm amplified by cosmic-level electrical powers. "This is exactly like my dreams, except with more actual magic and less wondering whether I'm having a breakdown!"
*Shazam!* Darla yelled, her voice bright with determination and absolute certainty that this was exactly what she was supposed to do with the opportunity she'd been given.
Darla Dudley, ten years old and possessed of tactical awareness that had always been far beyond her years, transformed into Sparkle, her strategic mind enhanced by divine speed and reflexes that allowed her to process battlefield information faster than most computers and definitely faster than most megalomaniacal scientists with expensive equipment and questionable decision-making capabilities.
"This is the BEST DAY EVER!" Sparkle announced, her voice carrying Darla's eternal optimism amplified by supernatural speed that let her speak while moving faster than sound and probably several laws of physics. "Billy, we're coming to help, and Dr. Sivana is going to be SO SORRY he messed with our family!"
*Shazam!* Freddy called out, his voice strong despite his physical limitations, accepting the chance to become something more than his disabilities had ever allowed him to be.
Freddy Freeman, fifteen years old and possessed of the kind of tactical brilliance that had always been his contribution to the family's success, blazed into existence as Captain Thunder, his physical limitations replaced by supernatural strength and the ability to fly with the kind of grace that made gravity irrelevant and probably made him the happiest person in several time zones.
"I'M FLYING!" Captain Thunder shouted, his voice booming across the city as he finally, finally had the chance to soar through the air with the kind of joy that came from years of limitations being replaced by infinite possibility. "I'M ACTUALLY FLYING! This is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to anyone in the history of amazing things happening to people!"
*Shazam!* Pedro said quietly, his voice carrying that steady reliability that had always been his greatest strength, now amplified by magical forces that recognized his worth and granted him the power to protect others as he'd always protected his family.
Pedro Peña, sixteen years old and possessed of the kind of quiet strength that made him the foundation of everything his family accomplished, became Solid, his reliability enhanced by invulnerability and strength that could move mountains if properly motivated by threats to innocent people and family members with tactical planning capabilities.
Solid didn't say anything immediately, because Pedro had never been particularly talkative, but his smile was visible even from orbit and probably registered on seismographs as he realized that his ability to protect his family had just been enhanced to cosmic levels.
Back in the park, Dr. Sivana suddenly found his technological superiority being challenged by not one, but six champions of magic, each wielding a portion of the power that had made Shazam one of the most formidable heroes on Earth.
"What?" Sivana demanded, his voice carrying that particular note of someone whose elaborate calculations had just encountered variables that weren't supposed to exist. "What is this? This is impossible! The power was supposed to be contained! One source, one target, one solution!"
"You made a fundamental error in your research, Dr. Sivana," Lady Shazam said, materializing in the park with the kind of dramatic flair that suggested magic had strong opinions about proper superhero entrances. Her voice carried Mary's analytical precision amplified by magical authority that made even theoretical physicists pay attention when she expressed opinions about tactical situations.
She gestured, and golden energy flowed around her like living light that had decided to take personal interest in demonstrating why threatening heroes' families was traditionally considered a spectacularly poor strategic decision.
"As Eidolon explained, you assumed that magical power was like scientific energy—contained, limited, controlled by individual sources and technological restrictions. But magic doesn't work like that, I'm afraid. It's not a finite resource to be hoarded like fossil fuels or rare earth elements."
Lightning appeared beside her in a burst of electrical energy that made every electronic device in the park briefly play the opening notes of the Star Wars theme, because Eugene's subconscious had strong opinions about proper dramatic accompaniment.
"Magic responds to worthiness, to need, to bonds between people who care about each other," Lightning said, his voice carrying Eugene's technical expertise enhanced by supernatural understanding of forces that made conventional electronics look like stone tools. "It's not a finite resource to be hoarded—it's an infinite force to be shared among those who would use it for justice. Kind of like open-source software, except with more lightning and significantly more potential for property damage."
Sparkle blazed into existence with speed that made her arrival look like someone had filmed lightning and then played it back in slow motion, except in reverse and with more bright colors.
"Besides," Sparkle said, her voice carrying Darla's eternal optimism amplified by divine speed, "you forgot the most important rule of fighting superheroes—we work better as a team, and we never, ever give up when someone threatens the people we love. That's like, Hero 101. Did you not take any classes before becoming a supervillain?"
Captain Thunder's arrival was accompanied by sonic booms and laughter that could probably be heard in neighboring states as he finally, finally had the chance to fly properly, soaring through the air with the kind of joy that made gravity seem like a polite suggestion rather than a fundamental force of nature.
"Dr. Sivana!" Captain Thunder called out, his voice booming with happiness and supernatural strength. "Thanks for giving us the opportunity to become superheroes! This is literally the best thing that's ever happened to any of us, and we owe it all to your poor tactical planning and questionable decision-making capabilities!"
Solid arrived without fanfare or dramatic announcements, because Pedro had never been one for theatrical gestures, but his presence was immediately noticeable because the ground stopped shaking when he put his feet on it, and several of Dr. Sivana's mechanical serpents suddenly found their attacks being absorbed by someone who was essentially immovable and definitely unimpressed by expensive military hardware.
The dimensional prison holding Eidolon suddenly found itself facing assault from six different directions as the new champions of magic began demonstrating why superior numbers, coordinated tactics, and family bonds were often more effective than individual superiority and expensive equipment operated by people with questionable social skills.
"Oh, this is delightful," Eidolon observed, his electronically modulated voice carrying that particular tone of someone who'd just watched their tactical situation improve dramatically. "Dr. Sivana, I believe you're about to receive a comprehensive education in the practical applications of magical family dynamics. It should be quite enlightening, assuming you survive the experience with sufficient brain function to appreciate the lessons involved."
His crimson energy began working on the dimensional prison with renewed vigor, now that he had backup and the tactical situation had shifted from 'concerning' to 'spectacularly advantageous for the forces of justice and proper family values.'
Dr. Sivana looked around at the six champions of magic now surrounding him, his elaborate trap transformed into a disadvantageous tactical situation where he was outnumbered by people with cosmic-level abilities, personal investments in his destruction, and probably very good reasons to take his attack on their family extremely personally.
"This is not possible!" he declared, his voice carrying that particular note of megalomaniacal denial that usually preceded either tactical retreats or spectacular defeats. "My calculations were perfect! My research was comprehensive! My equipment is state-of-the-art!"
"Your research," Lady Shazam said with the kind of polite precision that made disagreement sound like a friendly academic discussion, "failed to account for the most important variable in any magical equation: family. Love. The bonds between people who would do anything to protect each other."
"Also," Lightning added cheerfully, "you made all your calculations based on individual power levels, but we're not individuals anymore. We're a network. A magical family network with shared processing power and distributed tactical capabilities. It's like going from dial-up internet to fiber optic, except with more lightning and significantly more potential for your immediate defeat."
Sparkle was already moving, her enhanced speed allowing her to systematically dismantle Sivana's mechanical serpents while maintaining a running commentary on their design flaws and tactical limitations.
"These are actually pretty cool," she said as she tied three serpents into knots that would have impressed Boy Scout leaders and probably violated several engineering principles. "But they're designed to fight one person, not six people working together. It's like bringing a calculator to a computer science exam—technically functional, but missing the point entirely."
Captain Thunder was having the time of his life, soaring through the air and demonstrating that supernatural strength combined with the ability to fly made most conventional weapons irrelevant and definitely made their operators reconsider their career choices.
"Dr. Sivana," he called out, his voice carrying that particular mix of joy and righteous indignation that came from finally being able to help his family save the world, "I just want you to know that this is the most fun I've had in my entire life, and I really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to become superheroes through your misguided attempt to attack our brother!"
Solid wasn't engaging in banter, because Pedro had never been particularly talkative, but his actions spoke eloquently as he began systematically dismantling Sivana's containment equipment with the kind of methodical efficiency that suggested he'd found his preferred approach to magical superhero combat, and it involved breaking things in precisely the right places to achieve maximum tactical advantage without unnecessary property damage.
Eidolon finally broke free of his dimensional prison, and his approach to preventing tactical retreats by megalomaniacal scientists involved the kind of magical intervention that made emergency evacuation devices irrelevant and probably provided very educational experiences regarding the practical applications of interdimensional justice when applied with extreme prejudice.
"Now then, Dr. Sivana," Eidolon said, his electronically modulated voice carrying that particular tone of British politeness that made threats sound like dinner invitations, "I believe you mentioned having thoughts about our family and their safety. I'm very interested in hearing your detailed explanation of why you thought attacking children and teenagers was a reasonable Tuesday evening activity for someone with your educational background."
Dr. Sivana activated what appeared to be an emergency evacuation device built into his containment suit, preparing to escape to whatever hidden laboratory he used for developing exotic weapons and plotting elaborate revenge scenarios against teenagers with magical abilities.
"This is not over!" he declared, his voice carrying that particular note of megalomaniacal determination that usually preceded either tactical retreats or complete strategic collapse. "This is merely the first phase of a much larger plan! You cannot protect everyone, and I have resources that will make tonight's demonstration look like a simple preview of the consequences of your continued interference with superior scientific progress!"
But Eidolon's crimson energy was already reaching out to touch Sivana's evacuation device and suggest that perhaps it would prefer to malfunction at the most inconvenient possible moment, because magical persuasion worked just as well on mechanical devices as it did on artificial intelligence and people with questionable life choices.
"I don't think so," Eidolon said conversationally, his voice carrying that particular tone of someone who'd just decided that Dr. Sivana's evening was about to become significantly more complicated and probably much shorter than originally planned. "You see, the thing about emergency evacuation devices is that they require functional dimensional stabilizers, and I'm afraid yours have just developed some rather serious technical difficulties."
The evacuation device sparked, smoked, and made the kind of mechanical noises that suggested its warranty had just expired in a very permanent and probably explosive manner.
"No!" Sivana shouted, his voice carrying that particular note of someone whose elaborate backup plan had just encountered the kind of technical difficulties that usually resulted in either immediate surrender or very expensive property damage. "The stabilizers are quantum-encrypted! They're impossible to hack!"
"Quantum encryption," Lightning said with the kind of cheerful enthusiasm that suggested he'd just been presented with an interesting technical challenge, "is designed to prevent conventional hacking. But magic doesn't work like conventional technology. Magic asks nicely, and then reality decides whether it wants to cooperate or not. And right now, reality seems to think you're kind of a jerk."
The dimensional distortion collapsed with a sound like disappointed physics and probably several international treaties being violated, leaving Dr. Sivana standing in the middle of Fawcett Central Park, surrounded by six extremely irritated champions of magic who'd taken his attack on their family as a personal challenge to demonstrate why threatening heroes' loved ones was traditionally considered a fatal mistake.
Shazam finally felt his voice returning as Sivana's technological assault was overwhelmed by the magical network connecting him to his family. The sensation was like suddenly being able to breathe again after holding his breath for an eternity, except instead of air, it was cosmic-level magical power flowing back through neural pathways that connected him to forces that could reshape reality when properly motivated.
"SHAZAM!" he shouted, partly to test his voice and partly because the situation seemed to call for dramatic declarations. Lightning answered his call, golden energy crackling around him as his full power returned, amplified by the magical network that now connected him to five other people who shared his commitment to protecting innocent people and probably had very strong opinions about Dr. Sivana's strategic planning capabilities.
"Now then," Shazam said, his voice carrying that particular mix of relief and righteous indignation that came from having his cosmic-level abilities restored after being temporarily inconvenienced by someone with advanced degrees and flexible moral standards, "I believe you mentioned having words about my family and their safety, Dr. Sivana. I'm very interested in hearing your thoughts on that subject, preferably followed by a detailed explanation of why you thought this was a reasonable Tuesday evening activity for someone with your educational background and alleged commitment to scientific progress."
Dr. Sivana looked around at the six champions of magic surrounding him, their combined power making the air itself seem to crackle with barely contained energy and probably causing several minor reality fluctuations that would require extensive documentation by people with physics degrees and really flexible approaches to what constituted normal atmospheric conditions.
The mechanical serpents lay in pieces around the park, their liquid metal forms now serving as very expensive modern art installations that would probably require hazmat teams to clean up. The dimensional distortion had collapsed entirely, leaving behind only scorch marks in patterns that looked suspiciously like mathematical equations and would probably inspire doctoral dissertations for the next several decades.
"Perhaps," Sivana said carefully, "we could discuss this like reasonable—"
"Reasonable?" Sparkle interrupted, appearing directly in front of him again with the kind of expression that suggested she'd taken his attack on her family extremely personally. "You built a weapon specifically designed to hurt Billy. You created mechanical monsters. You turned a park into a dimensional nightmare. You threatened innocent people."
"That," Captain Thunder added, landing next to her with a sound like controlled thunder, "doesn't sound very reasonable to us."
"In fact," Lady Shazam observed, golden energy swirling around her like she was preparing to demonstrate why superior strategic planning combined with cosmic-level magical abilities was generally considered a winning combination, "it sounds like the kind of unreasonable behavior that requires a very educational response."
"The sort of education," Eidolon added with that crisp British politeness that somehow made everything sound infinitely more threatening, "that typically involves extended conversations with law enforcement officials, followed by lengthy stays in facilities designed specifically for individuals who make spectacularly poor decisions regarding the practical applications of experimental physics."
"And probably therapy," Solid added quietly, speaking up for the first time since transforming. "Because seriously, Dr. Sivana, this whole 'revenge against teenagers' thing is not healthy."
Lightning nodded sagely. "Pedro's right. You need help. The kind of help that doesn't involve building death rays in your basement and plotting elaborate schemes against fourteen-year-olds."
"I am a genius!" Sivana protested, though his voice lacked its earlier conviction. "I have advanced degrees! I understand forces that most people cannot even comprehend!"
"And yet," Billy observed with the kind of patient tone usually reserved for explaining basic concepts to small children, "you somehow failed to understand that attacking someone's family is traditionally considered one of the stupidest possible strategic decisions."
"Especially," Sparkle added brightly, "when that family includes multiple people with cosmic-level magical abilities and serious personal investments in your immediate defeat."
In the distance, sirens were approaching with the kind of urgency that suggested the authorities had decided whatever was happening in Central Park was definitely above their normal pay grade and required backup from people with experience in superhero-related crisis management.
"You know what the really funny part is?" Captain Thunder asked, hovering about ten feet off the ground with his arms crossed and a grin that suggested he was having the time of his life. "You spent all that time and energy trying to take away Billy's powers, and all you accomplished was giving the rest of us the same abilities."
"Talk about backfire," Lightning agreed, sparks dancing between his fingers as emergency vehicles surrounded the park. "It's like you read the Evil Scientist Handbook and specifically chose all the strategies marked 'guaranteed to fail spectacularly.'"
Dr. Sivana looked around at the six champions of magic, at his destroyed equipment, at his completely failed plan, and came to the unavoidable conclusion that perhaps targeting teenagers with loving families and cosmic-level magical abilities had not been his wisest career move.
"This isn't over," he said weakly, though it clearly was.
"Yes, it is," Lady Shazam replied firmly. "It's very over. What happens next involves a lot of paperwork, some uncomfortable questions about your funding sources, and probably some serious conversations about finding healthier hobbies."
As the authorities arrived and began the process of dealing with a defeated megalomaniacal scientist and his collection of expensive broken equipment, the Wizard's voice echoed once more through their minds.
*Well done,* he said, and there was profound satisfaction in that ancient voice. *You have learned the most important lesson of power: it is not meant to be hoarded, but shared among those who would use it to protect others.*
*The magic will remain with each of you,* the Wizard continued, *as long as you remember that being a champion means more than having abilities. It means having the courage to stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves, the wisdom to use power responsibly, and the strength to support one another when the burden becomes heavy.*
"So what happens now?" Freddy—Captain Thunder—asked, settling onto the ground as police officers began the complex process of arresting someone in a radiation suit while surrounded by teenagers with cosmic-level magical abilities.
"Now," Billy said, grinning at his family—because that's what they were, all of them, bound together by more than magic—"we go home. We probably have homework to finish."
"Speak for yourself," Mary—Lady Shazam—laughed. "I have a paper due tomorrow on the practical applications of emergency management systems. I'm pretty sure I have enough material now."
"Can we not mention the part where we fought robot snakes?" Eugene—Lightning—asked hopefully. "Because I'm pretty sure 'I was temporarily transformed into a champion of justice' isn't going to fly as an excuse for not finishing my programming assignment."
"Our secret," Billy promised, watching as Dr. Sivana was led away by officers who looked like they were seriously reconsidering their career choices. "Besides, who would believe it?"
"The four hundred and thirty-seven people who recorded it on their smartphones," Lightning replied helpfully.
"Details," Sparkle—Darla—said dismissively, bouncing on her feet with the kind of energy that suggested being granted cosmic-level magical abilities had only increased her natural enthusiasm. "The important thing is we're all okay, the bad guy's been stopped, and nobody got seriously hurt."
"And," Captain Thunder added with a grin that could have powered a small city, "I can fly now. Did I mention I can fly? Because I can totally fly."
"Yes, Freddy," Lady Shazam said patiently. "We noticed."
"I can fly!" he repeated, taking off again just because he could.
"He's going to be insufferable about this," Pedro—Solid—observed, but he was smiling as he said it.
"Good," Billy said, watching his foster brother soar through the night sky with pure joy. "He deserves it."
As they prepared to head home—six teenagers who'd just saved their city and gained magical powers in the process—Eidolon approached the group with that characteristic blend of British politeness and subtle authority.
"Excellent work tonight," he said formally. "All of you. You've proven that the most powerful force in the universe isn't magic or technology or superior scientific methodology."
"What is it then?" Darla asked curiously.
Eidolon smiled—a rare, genuine expression that transformed his entire face. "Family. People who care about each other enough to risk everything when it matters."
"Does this mean we're, like, official superheroes now?" Eugene asked, still staring at his hands like he couldn't quite believe electricity was dancing between his fingers.
"You were always heroes," the Wizard's voice whispered through their minds one last time. *The magic simply gave you the power to match your hearts.*
And as six teenagers—some still in their adult forms, others having transformed back to their normal selves—headed home through the streets of Philadelphia, they carried with them the knowledge that they were no longer just a family.
They were the Shazam Family.
And Dr. Sivana, along with anyone else who might think about threatening the people they loved, was about to learn exactly what that meant.
It was going to be a very educational experience for everyone involved.
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