Parasite's laughter choked off. As he dove toward Utopian, thirsting for this new energy, his hands met not flesh, but the smooth, impenetrable surface of the S.T.A.R. Labs suit. No energy to siphon. No life force to steal.
"What?!" he screamed in frustration.
Utopian, with calculated serenity, used the surprise to his advantage. He flexed his muscles, breaking the monster's grip, and landed a precise punch to his solar plexus. The impact sent Parasite stumbling back, more shocked than hurt.
"Armor? Hiding?" roared the Parasite, enraged. He charged again, swinging wild, clumsy blows.
Utopian dodged, parried, used joint locks to unbalance his opponent. The strategy was clear. Parasite had Superman's brute strength, but not his refined combat experience. He was a battering ram, not a swordsman. Utopian was a master of his craft.
Every blow Parasite threw was wasted, every dodged attack made him more furious and unpredictable, but also more careless. Utopian let him expend his energy, circling him like a rock, waiting for his opening.
"STAND STILL!" bellowed Parasite, a heat ray bursting from his eyes.
Utopian raised his arm, the suit's gauntlet absorbing and dispersing the energy. The heat was intense, but contained. He felt the suit heating up, but it held.
It was a dangerous game. The suit protected him from the draining, but not entirely from the crushing physical force. A direct hit could break his bones, suit or not.
His goal wasn't to win by knockout. He had to weaken him, disorient him, create a split second where the monster's defenses would drop. Long enough to bring out the Kryptonite fragment from its lead container.
Parasite, maddened by his inability to feed, redoubled his efforts. He ripped a lamppost from the ground and swung it like a club. Utopian flew backward, avoiding the projectile that smashed into a building.
"You can't win!" screamed Parasite. "I'll get stronger! I'll take everything!"
"You've already taken everything from Superman," Utopian retorted, landing lightly. "And look what you've become. You're just a hungry stomach."
The insult hit its mark. Parasite roared and dove for him, hands outstretched like claws, all caution forgotten.
This was the moment.
As the monster was in mid-air, fully committed to his attack, Utopian dove to the side. In one fluid motion, he opened the lead container on his belt and pulled out the fragment of Kryptonite, which glowed with a sickly green light.
The reaction was immediate.
Parasite, now at full Kryptonian power, screamed in agony. The mere proximity of the stone made him falter in the air. The strength inhabiting him seemed to betray him, turning inward like a poison. He crashed heavily to the ground, writhing in pain, his purple skin paling.
"Wh... What is that?!" he whimpered, staring at the stone in horror.
Utopian approached, holding the Kryptonite before him like a priest holding a crucifix before a vampire.
"That's the price of your stolen power," he said calmly. "You took Superman's strength, but you also took his weakness."
The Parasite was neutralized. The battle was won, not by brute force, but by strategy, patience, and knowledge of his enemy's weakness.