The harsh fluorescent lights of the Daily Planet's basement archive flickered, casting dancing shadows across stacks of yellowing newspapers and dusty file cabinets. Annie January's fingers trembled slightly as she inserted the flash drive into her laptop. Across from her, Clark Kent leaned forward, his glasses reflecting the glow of the screen.
"Are you sure about this, Annie?" Clark asked, his voice low and concerned.
Annie nodded, her jaw set with determination. "The world needs to know the truth about Compound V, Clark. No matter the cost."
With a deep breath, Annie hit 'send'. The email, containing irrefutable evidence of Vought's secret superhero creation program, shot off to every major news outlet in the country. For a moment, the only sound was the quiet hum of the computer.
"You did the right thing," Clark said, placing a reassuring hand on Annie's shoulder. "It won't be easy, but it's necessary."
Annie looked up at him, a mixture of fear and resolve in her eyes. "I hope you're right."
As if on cue, both their phones began to buzz incessantly. The story was breaking, and the world was about to change.
_______________________________________
The tranquil night sky over New York was shattered by a thunderous boom. Superman, a blur of red and blue, crashed through the wall of an abandoned gas station, propelled by a vicious kick from his assailant. As the dust settled, a figure clad entirely in black emerged from the hole, his masked face betraying no emotion.
Black Noir, Vought's silent assassin, had finally made his move.
Superman rose from the debris, his cape torn but his resolve unshaken. "We don't have to do this," he said, his voice firm but non-threatening.
Black Noir's response was a flurry of throwing stars, each one laced with a cocktail of experimental drugs designed to incapacitate even the strongest Supe. Superman's eyes flashed red, his heat vision reducing the projectiles to slag before they could reach him.
In an instant, Black Noir closed the distance, his enhanced speed nearly matching Superman's. The warehouse echoed with the sound of their colliding fists, each impact powerful enough to shatter concrete.
Superman found himself on the defensive, surprised by the skill and ferocity of his opponent. Black Noir's fighting style was a lethal blend of martial arts and superhuman ability, each strike precisely aimed at vital points.
A particularly vicious blow caught Superman in the solar plexus, driving him back. For a moment, he felt a flicker of doubt. This wasn't like fighting Homelander, all raw power and ego. Black Noir was a trained killer, possibly the most dangerous opponent he'd ever faced.
But as Black Noir pressed his advantage, Superman's eyes narrowed. He'd been holding back, afraid of causing too much collateral damage. It was time to end this.
With a burst of speed that left afterimages in the air, Superman unleashed a barrage of punches too fast for even Black Noir to counter. Each blow was precisely calculated, targeting weak points in the assassin's armor.
Black Noir staggered back, his suit sparking and smoking from the assault. But still, he refused to yield.
Superman's eyes began to glow, not with heat vision, but with the pure solar energy he'd recently unlocked. "Last chance," he warned.
Black Noir's response was to pull a small detonator from his belt. Superman's enhanced vision caught sight of explosives rigged throughout the warehouse - enough to level a city block.
Time seemed to slow. Superman could escape easily, but the blast radius would claim hundreds of innocent lives in the surrounding buildings. He had only one choice.
As Black Noir's thumb descended on the detonator, Superman moved. In a fraction of a second, he had scooped up the assassin and rocketed skyward, punching through the warehouse roof just as the explosions began.
The night sky lit up with a massive fireball, contained mostly within the warehouse thanks to Superman's quick action. Black Noir struggled in his grip, but at this altitude, there was nowhere for him to go.
"It's over," Superman said, his voice carrying easily over the wind. "You've lost."
For the first time, a sound emerged from behind Black Noir's mask - a low, mirthless chuckle. Then, to Superman's shock, the assassin went limp in his arms. A failsafe, some final loyalty protocol to Vought, had been activated. Black Noir was... unconscious?
'It seems like he was supposed to die, but it didn't work... Maybe, he could be an addition to the Justice League.' Clark thought.
__________________________
Annie January's fingers drummed nervously on the table of the small café, her eyes darting to the door every few seconds. When Misty Gray finally walked in, Annie felt an unexpected twinge in her chest.
"Hey, thanks for meeting me," Annie said, forcing a smile as Misty sat down.
Misty nodded, her expression guarded. "What is this about..? You sounded pretty serious on the phone."
Annie took a deep breath. "I just... I wanted to clear the air. About Clark."
Misty's eyebrow raised slightly, a frown slowly but surely appearing on her face. "What about Clark?"
"I know you two are... together," Annie said, the words feeling strangely bitter on her tongue. "And I want you to know that I'm happy for you. Both of you."
Misty studied Annie's face for a moment, her expression unreadable. "But...?"
Annie looked down at her untouched coffee. "But nothing. I just... I guess I was surprised, that's all."
"Are you serious right now?" Misty said with a tone of restrained frustration, "You called me here for this...."
Annie's head snapped up, ready to deny any implication. But as she met Misty's knowing gaze, she felt her certainty waver. Why did this bother her so much? She loved Hughie, didn't she?
"I-I don't know," Annie admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I can't shake this feeling..."
Misty reached across the table, taking a sip of her coffee, before saying. "Look, I'm not a therapist. And I don't like you. But... it's okay to be confused."
......
...
....
The setting sun painted the Metropolis skyline in hues of orange and gold as Superman touched down in the middle of 5th Avenue. Traffic screeched to a halt, horns blaring as pedestrians stopped to gawk at the Man of Steel.
Before Superman could address the gathering crowd, he found himself surrounded by a ring of police officers, their weapons drawn and aimed squarely at him.
"Superman," a gruff voice called out. Captain Maggie Sawyer stepped forward, her face a mask of professional detachment. "You're under arrest. Please come quietly."
For a moment, Superman stood perfectly still, his mind racing. This had to be Vought's doing, some new tactic to discredit him. He could easily escape, but that would only play into their hands.
Slowly, Superman raised his hands. "I'll cooperate, Captain," he said, his voice calm and steady. "But I hope you understand that these cuffs are purely symbolic."
As an officer cautiously approached with a pair of handcuffs, Superman allowed himself to be restrained. The metal clinked shut around his wrists, fragile as tissue paper against his Kryptonian strength.
Captain Sawyer nodded, a flicker of respect in her eyes. "I appreciate your cooperation, Superman. For the record, I don't like this any more than you do."
As Superman was led to a waiting police van, he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd....
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