Chapter 40: The House Rules
The smell of burnt pepperoni and ozone mingled in the living room air, creating an acrid perfume of interrupted domesticity.
The shag rug, the one Urahara had transmuted with such elegance just hours ago, was ruined. A black, smoking scar ran across it from side to side, marking the spot where the Boom Tube had spat out its passengers before collapsing.
On the gray leather sofa, Scott Free, the man known in a thousand galaxies as Mister Miracle, lay pale and trembling.
His brightly colored costume was torn, revealing skin covered in dark bruises and energy burns. But the most disturbing thing wasn't the physical wounds. It was the sound.
Ping.
Ping. Ping.
The Mother Box, the sentient living computer of the New Gods strapped to his chest, emitted pulses of distress. It was desperately trying to heal its bearer, but the damage was deep. Scott wasn't just hurt; he was phasing out. His image flickered, blurring at the edges, as if a part of him were trying to escape to another dimension to avoid the pain.
"He's slipping away," said Big Barda.
The warrior was kneeling beside the sofa, her huge gloved hand holding Scott's with a delicacy that seemed impossible for someone capable of bending steel beams. She had removed her dented helmet, revealing a strong face framed by a mane of black hair, now plastered to her forehead by sweat and dried blood.
"His vibration pattern is unstable," she continued, her voice shaking with rage and fear. "He was hit by an Omega sanction beam. Just a graze, but... it is undoing his bonds with reality."
Kara Zor-El stood on the other side of the sofa, fists clenched, feeling useless. She could move planets, but she couldn't grab a man who was turning into a ghost.
"Kisuke..." she said, looking at the shopkeeper.
Urahara Kisuke didn't answer immediately.
He had moved with fluid calm from the moment the refugees landed. Now, he was leaning over Scott, his gray eyes scanning not the flesh, but the spiritual and dimensional flow of the man.
'Fascinating,' he thought, though he kept his face in a mask of professional concentration. 'Fourth World technology. It is... biological. It is living mathematics. The Mother Box is singing a healing song, but the wound is conceptual. The Omega effect doesn't damage; it erases.'
"Don't worry, Barda-san," said Urahara softly. "He is an escape artist. He is just trying to escape the pain. We just need to... lock the back door."
He raised his right hand.
He didn't use standard medical Kidō. This required something subtler.
His fingers glowed with a pale blue light, cold and stabilizing.
"Bakudō #63: Sajo Sabaku" (Locking Bond Chain), he whispered, but modified the spell in his mind. He didn't want to bind Scott's body. He wanted to bind his existence to the "here and now."
Chains of golden light, fine as silk threads, sprouted from his fingers and wrapped around Scott's chest, intertwining with the circuits of the Mother Box.
The alien machine stopped pinging in panic and emitted a low, harmonious hum. It accepted Urahara's energy, recognizing it as compatible code.
Scott's flickering stopped. His color returned. His breathing became deeper, less agonizing.
"He is anchored," declared Urahara, withdrawing his hand and shaking off the excess energy. "He will sleep. And when he wakes up, he will have a terrible headache, but he will still be on this plane of existence."
Barda let out a sigh that seemed to empty her lungs. She dropped her head onto Scott's chest, sobbing once, a dry, hard sound.
Then, she lifted her head. The vulnerability vanished, instantly replaced by the mask of war. She stood up, rising to her full height, her gold and red armor shining under the light of the lamp Urahara had transmuted.
She was a giantess. A goddess of war.
"Thank you, shopkeeper," she said, her voice regaining its steel. "You kept your word. But the contract isn't over."
She walked to the living room window (which was actually a screen showing the inner garden), but her eyes looked beyond, toward something only she could feel.
"They are coming," she said.
"Who?" asked Kara, stepping to Barda's side. "Who did this to him?"
Barda turned, her face grim.
"My sisters," she said bitterly. "The Female Furies. Darkseid's elite guard. They are bloodhounds, Kara. They don't stop. They don't sleep. They don't negotiate."
She pointed to the spot where the Boom Tube had closed.
"If Scott and I are here... they are a minute behind us. They can track the Mother Box's radiation signature across galaxies."
She grabbed her Mega-Rod, which was lying on the floor, and powered it up. The weapon hummed with lethal energy.
"This place is beautiful, Kisuke," said Barda, looking at the cozy living room, the pizza boxes, the mutant fern sleeping in the corner. "But it is not a fortress. It is wood and paper. They will burn it. They will tear it down beam by beam until they find us."
Urahara stood up, smoothing his kimono. He picked up his hat from the floor, where it had fallen during the commotion, and placed it carefully on his head, tilting it over his eyes.
"Barda-san," he said, his voice calm, almost amused. "You offend me."
He walked toward the door connecting the living room to the shop hallway.
"This shop has withstood typhoons, earthquakes, health inspections, and a Kryptonian having a bad day," he said, winking at Kara.
"It may look like wood and paper. But the rules here... are my rules."
Suddenly, an alarm sounded.
It wasn't his communicator's alarm. It was something more primitive.
The air in the pocket dimension changed. Atmospheric pressure plummeted. The mutant fern in the corner woke up with a start and began to hiss, its leaves bristling like cat fur.
Krypto, who had been hiding under a chair, shot toward the door, barking furiously, not with joy, but with a deep growl of threat.
"They are here," said Barda.
Urahara raised his hand, stopping Kara who was already floating toward the exit.
"Wait," he ordered.
He closed his eyes, extending his senses beyond the pocket dimension, toward the physical anchor in the real world.
Toward Kyoto.
Kyoto. The Gion Alley.
The night was quiet. A stray cat walked along a stone wall. The moon illuminated the wet cobblestones.
And then, the sky broke.
There was no warning.
The air above the alley, right in front of the humble wooden facade of the Urahara Shop, distorted.
Space-time screamed.
A circle of blinding white light opened, expanding violently, vaporizing the rain and turning the cobblestones into molten lava.
BOOOOOOOM.
The Boom Tube spat out its cargo.
Four figures landed in the alley with an impact that shattered the windows of neighboring buildings.
The first was a woman wrapped in black leather and chains, her face covered by white ribbons. Lashina. Her electrified whip cracked, slicing through an iron lamppost as if it were butter.
The second was a mountain of muscle and orange metal. Stompa. She landed with such force that the ground cracked beneath her bronze boots, creating a small earthquake.
The third was a nightmare of agility and madness, with glowing green claws and a laugh that sounded like breaking glass. Mad Harriet. She jumped onto the roof of the neighboring shop, crouching like a spider.
And behind them, walking with terrible calm through the closing portal, was the commander.
An elderly, stout woman, with white hair styled in a severe helmet and armor that looked like a perverted institutional uniform. Her face was a mask of cruelty disguised as matriarchal discipline.
Granny Goodness.
She looked at the small wooden shop.
She smiled. It was a smile that promised eternal pain and stale cookies.
"Come out, come out, my little traitors!" she shouted. Her voice was amplified, resonating throughout the neighborhood, but strangely ignored by the city sleepers, muffled by a psychic terror field.
"Granny has come for you! I have gifts! I have pain! And I have a very special lesson for children who run away from home!"
She struck the ground with her staff.
"Hand over Scott Free! Hand over the traitorous bitch Barda! And maybe... just maybe... I won't skin the owners of this shack alive and wear them as a coat!"
Inside the Shop (Pocket Dimension).
Kara heard the screams. Her face hardened.
"I'm going out," she said, eyes glowing red. "I'm going to teach that old lady some manners."
She took a step toward the door.
Urahara's cane blocked her path.
"No, Kara-san," said Urahara.
Kara looked at him, surprised. "What? Are we going to let her threaten our home?"
"It is my property," said Urahara.
His voice had lost all warmth. It was cold, precise, and territorial.
"My name is on the deed. I pay the taxes. And I answer the door."
He adjusted his haori.
"Barda-san, stay with Scott. Protect the core. Kara-san... come with me. But do not attack until I say so."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I am a businessman," said Urahara, walking toward the physical shop exit. "And I always try to negotiate before... liquidating the stock."
They left the backroom.
They crossed the dark and silent shop, passing between candy jars vibrating from the presence of the New Gods outside.
Urahara reached the front door.
He unlocked the latch.
With a smooth movement, he slid the sliding door open.
The hot, sulfurous air of the Boom Tube entered the shop, clashing with the fresh, clean air inside.
Urahara stepped onto the threshold.
He stood on the wooden step, under the paper lantern that swung violently.
In front of him, in the narrow alley, were the nightmares of Apokolips.
Four beings capable of leveling armies.
Urahara took out his fan. Opened it with a snap. Fanned himself gently.
He smiled.
"Good evening, ladies," he said, his calm voice cutting the tension like a razor.
"I'm afraid you've misread the hours. We close at eight. And frankly, you are making a terrible racket. My neighbors are going to complain."
Granny Goodness looked at him.
She scanned the thin man, with his ridiculous clothes and paper fan.
She let out a laugh that sounded like gravel in a grinder.
"You?" she mocked. "You are the guardian? This clown?"
She looked at the Furies.
"Look, girls. A mortal who thinks he has a voice."
Granny took a step forward, pointing her staff at Urahara's chest.
"Listen well, worm. You have something that belongs to me. Granny wants her toys back. Hand them over now, and I'll let you die quickly."
Urahara didn't stop smiling.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he said, with the politeness of someone refusing an expired coupon.
"You see, ma'am... I have a very strict return policy. Once merchandise enters the shop... it stays in the shop. Especially if the merchandise is my friends."
His gray eyes shone in the darkness.
"Besides... I don't accept returns of damaged goods. And you, ma'am... look very, very damaged."
Silence fell over the alley.
The Furies tensed, ready to pounce.
Granny Goodness's smile twisted into a grimace of pure hatred.
"Damaged?" she whispered. "You dare insult Granny?"
She raised her staff.
"Very well. If you don't want to open the door..."
Dark energy began to gather at the tip of her weapon.
"...Granny will knock it down. FURIES!"
She shouted the order.
"KILL HIM! BURN IT ALL! LEAVE NOT EVEN ASHES!"
Lashina cracked her whip. Stompa roared. Mad Harriet shrieked.
They launched themselves forward, a tide of divine death charging at a shopkeeper in a wooden doorway.
Kara tensed behind Urahara, ready to intervene.
But Urahara didn't move.
He didn't even raise his sword.
Simply, he closed his fan.
"Vandalism," he sighed. "I hate vandalism."
And with a step back, he crossed the threshold into the interior of his shop, inviting them in.
"Please," he said, his voice resonating with a strange, distorted welcome. "Come in. My playroom is... spacious."
The Furies crossed the door.
And the world changed.
Lashina was the first to cross the threshold.
Her electrified whip cracked, seeking flesh to burn, expecting to find the confined space of a wooden shop full of fragile shelves. She expected the sound of breaking glass and panicked screams.
She took a step.
And her armored boot didn't hit wood.
It hit rock.
Red, dusty, hard rock.
The air changed instantly. The humidity of the Kyoto rain vanished, replaced by dry air, charged with static and a mineral smell of ancient desert.
Lashina blinked, disoriented.
The shop ceiling had disappeared. The walls had vanished.
In their place stretched a vast wasteland of crimson rock formations rising toward an impossible sky, painted with purple nebulas and static storm clouds.
They weren't in a shop. They were in a world.
Stompa and Mad Harriet entered behind her, stopping dead, weapons raised against an enemy that was no longer within reach.
"What trick is this?" growled Stompa, stomping her bronze boots against the ground, testing its solidity. The ground rumbled, but didn't break.
"It is not a trick," said a voice from above. "It is a real estate expansion."
The Furies looked up.
Urahara Kisuke sat comfortably atop a natural rock pillar, about ten meters high. He fanned himself lazily, watching them like an entomologist watches a new species of aggressive beetles in a jar.
"Welcome to the basement," he said. "Apologies for the decor. We haven't decided on the carpet yet."
"I don't care where we are!" shrieked Mad Harriet, her green claws glowing. "It just means more room to bleed!"
She launched herself forward, a green blur of madness, running on all fours toward the small traditional house visible in the distance, where Barda and Scott were sheltering.
But she didn't get far.
"Stop!" shouted a voice.
A figure descended from the red sky like a meteor.
Kara Zor-El landed between the Furies and the house, kicking up a cloud of red dust. Her eyes glowed, her cape billowed.
Beside her, Big Barda stepped out from behind a rock, her Mega-Rod active and humming with lethal power. She no longer had her helmet, and her armor was dented, but her stance was that of an immovable mountain.
"Hello, sisters," said Barda, her voice heavy with furious sadness.
"Barda," spat Lashina, uncoiling her whip. "Traitor. Granny is going to enjoy breaking you again. And this time, we'll make sure you have no legs to run."
"Try it," challenged Barda.
The battle erupted.
It wasn't a duel of honor. It was a seismic collision.
Stompa, the fury of brute force, charged at Barda.
BOOM!
The impact of Barda's Mega-Rod against Stompa's bronze boots created a shockwave that pulverized nearby rocks. The ground split. Barda was pushed back, heels furrowing the earth, but she held.
"You are weak, Barda!" shouted Stompa, laughing as she threw a kick capable of toppling a building. "Love has made you soft!"
"Love has given me something to fight for, you idiot!" roared Barda, striking back with a backhand that made the giantess stumble.
Meanwhile, Kara faced Lashina.
Kara had the advantage of speed and flight. She launched herself at the leader of the Furies, fist cocked for a knockout blow.
But Lashina wasn't a street thug. She was a tactical master of Apokolips.
At the last second, Lashina didn't block. She flicked her wrist.
Her whips, charged with energy that burned even Kryptonian skin, moved like living snakes. They wrapped around Kara's ankle in mid-flight.
Lashina didn't pull against Kara's strength. She used the girl's own momentum.
With an expert yank, she redirected Kara's flight path.
"Woaah!" shouted Kara, losing aerodynamic control.
She was sent flying sideways, crashing into a rock pillar that collapsed on top of her.
"Brute force," mocked Lashina, retracting her whips. "Typical of 'heroes'. No technique. No discipline. Just noise."
Mad Harriet, taking advantage of the two defenders being occupied, saw her chance.
She launched herself toward the house, laughing hysterically, claws ready to gut Scott Free.
"Fresh meat! God meat!" she crooned.
She was about to reach the porch when a white shadow intercepted her.
WOOF!
Krypto, wearing a sort of armored collar Urahara had improvised for him, slammed into her in mid-air.
The Superdog and the mad Fury rolled through the dust, a whirlwind of white teeth and green claws. Krypto wasn't playing. He bit into Harriet's armor, shaking her like a rag doll, his heat vision singeing the woman's hair.
"Bad dog!" shrieked Harriet, trying to stab him, but her claws bounced off the dog's invulnerable skin.
From his high perch, Urahara watched it all.
He hadn't drawn his sword.
He wasn't firing energy beams.
He was... analyzing.
'Fascinating,' he thought, eyes moving from one fight to another.
'Apokolips technology is... biological at its base. Their weapons are extensions of their will, fueled by pain and fanatical devotion. Stompa uses localized gravity in her boots. Lashina uses variable energy whips.'
He saw Kara emerge from the rubble, furious, and charge again. He saw Barda being pushed back by Stompa's relentless force.
'They are fighting on the enemy's terms,' concluded Urahara. 'Strength against strength. Bad idea. Apokolips always has more strength.'
"Well," he said aloud, though no one was paying attention to him. "I guess it's time to change the rules of the game. After all, this is my garden."
He raised his index finger.
Stompa raised her massive boot to crush Barda, who was on the ground.
"Die, traitor!" shouted Stompa.
Urahara moved his finger upward.
Zzzzt.
Gravity around Stompa reversed.
Not in the whole zone. Just in a two-meter cylinder around her.
Stompa's boot didn't come down.
It went up.
Stompa screamed, surprised, as she floated up into the sky, arms and legs flailing uselessly in the air, unable to find traction.
"What...? Put me down!" she roared, spinning slowly in zero gravity.
"Sorry," said Urahara from his rock. "But you stomp too hard. My conceptual geraniums are delicate."
Barda, seeing her chance, stood up. She didn't question the miracle. She charged her Mega-Rod to the max and fired a concussive energy beam at the floating Stompa.
The giantess was sent flying toward the horizon like a lead balloon, shouting curses as she disappeared behind a mountain range.
Lashina saw this and turned to Urahara, eyes burning with hate.
"You!" she shouted. "Coward! Come down and fight!"
She lashed her whips at Urahara's pillar. The electrified tips cut through the rock, causing the column to crumble.
Urahara jumped.
But he didn't fall.
He walked on the air (solid Reishi), descending as if walking down an invisible staircase.
"Fighting is so... messy," he said, landing softly on the red ground.
Lashina charged at him, whips forming a deadly net.
"I will skin you!" she shouted.
Kara launched to intercept her, but Urahara raised a hand. "Leave her, Kara-san."
When Lashina was three meters away, Urahara tapped the ground with the tip of his cane.
"Bakudō #21: Sekienton." (Red Smoke Escape).
A burst of dense red smoke exploded on the ground.
Lashina charged through the smoke... and screamed.
The ground beneath her feet had changed.
It was no longer solid rock.
Urahara had transmuted the molecular structure of the sand.
It was a non-Newtonian fluid. A quicksand bog that reacted to force.
The more Lashina struggled, the harder the ground trapped her.
In seconds, she was sunk to her waist, useless whips hitting the red mud that hardened like cement when she struck it and turned liquid when she tried to move.
"What cheap trick is this!" shouted Lashina, trapped.
"It is basic physics," said Urahara, approaching her with hands behind his back, out of whip range.
"And a bit of spiritual alchemy. I suggest you stop moving. It will get harder if you resist."
Mad Harriet, seeing her two sisters neutralized, let out a shriek and abandoned Krypto.
She ran toward Urahara, fast, erratic, a nightmare of speed.
"I'll cut your eyes out!" she laughed.
Krypto tried to follow, but she was too fast in short bursts.
Harriet leaped, claws aiming for Urahara's neck.
Urahara didn't move.
He simply opened his fan in front of his face.
A small hexagonal shield of golden energy appeared in front of the paper.
Cling.
Harriet's claws clashed against the shield, bouncing off.
Before she could land, Kara was there.
This time, she didn't use just strength. She used precision.
She grabbed Harriet by the ankle in mid-air.
And with a spinning motion, she threw her. Not at the ground. But upward.
Harriet shot up toward the nebula sky, screaming as she became a distant dot.
"Good form!" commented Urahara, clapping.
The battlefield went silent for a moment.
Stompa was lost in the mountains. Lashina was trapped in liquid cement. Harriet was in low orbit.
Kara landed next to Urahara, breathing hard but smiling.
"That... that worked surprisingly well."
"Territory control is key, Kara-san," said Urahara. "Never fight a fair war if you can manipulate the ground beneath your enemy's feet."
But victory was premature.
A slow, clapping laugh echoed from the entrance of the dimensional "alley."
Granny Goodness entered the battlefield.
She didn't look impressed.
She held a device in her hand. A gray, pulsating cube emitting a thrum-thrum-thrum sound that made teeth ache.
"Very clever," said Granny, her voice dripping with venomous sarcasm.
"Parlor tricks. Floor traps. Gravity. Very funny."
She looked at the trapped Lashina and shook her head. "Disappointing, girls. Very disappointing. You'll have an extra session in the Agony Room when we return."
She turned to Urahara.
"You played well with my girls, shopkeeper. But Granny didn't come to play."
She raised the device.
"This is an Apokolips Class Phase Destabilizer. Designed to break planetary shields."
Urahara's eyes widened slightly. He recognized the energy signature.
"If I activate this," said Granny with a cruel smile, "this pretty little pocket dimension of yours... will collapse. It will fold in on itself. And all of you will be crushed into a point the size of a pea."
Her finger hovered over the activation button.
"Hand over Scott Free. Now. Or everyone dies."
Kara tensed, ready to attack, but knew she wouldn't make it in time.
Urahara stopped smiling.
His face became expressionless.
"Well," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "That is vandalism. And I hate renovations."
He took a step forward, Benihime shining in his hand.
"I think it's time for Granny to go to bed."
Granny Goodness's threat hung in the red air of the artificial desert.
The Phase Destabilizer in her hand hummed with a rising pitch, a sonic countdown promising to turn Urahara's pocket dimension into a singular point of crushed matter.
Kara Zor El stepped forward, eyes shining with panic.
She knew what those weapons could do.
She had seen entire worlds fold under Apokolips technology.
"Kisuke!" she shouted.
"She has her finger on the trigger! If she fires that, we're dead!"
But Urahara didn't run.
He didn't raise a shield.
He didn't try to disarm her with a quick strike.
He simply stood there, Benihime in hand, blade pointing at the ground, observing the device with a clinical curiosity bordering on madness.
"Fascinating," he murmured, his calm voice cutting through the hum of death.
"A dimensional collapse wave emitter. Variable frequency. Powered by an Element X micro-core. Very unstable. Very noisy."
Granny Goodness smiled, showing yellow teeth.
"Like it, shopkeeper? It's the latest model. Granny has been saving it for a special occasion. And crushing your little dollhouse seems the perfect occasion."
Her finger tensed on the button.
"Last chance. Give me Scott Free."
Urahara sighed.
It was a long, tired sound, from someone who has had to explain the same basic lesson too many times.
"Ma'am," he said.
"I think you misunderstood me. When I said I hate renovations, I didn't mean painting the walls."
He looked up, his gray eyes locking onto Granny's with an intensity that made the old torturer waver for a microsecond.
"I meant I hate having to clean up the trash rude guests leave in my entryway."
"Die!" shouted Granny, pressing the button.
The device glowed.
A wave of gray distortion shot from the cube, expanding toward the invisible walls of the dimension.
Kara braced for impact, for the end.
But Urahara moved.
Not toward Granny.
Toward the Boom Tube.
The interdimensional portal the Furies had left open behind them, the tunnel of white light connecting the shop to Apokolips, roared in the void.
Urahara raised Benihime.
The crimson blade shone with blinding light.
"Nake, Benihime!"
An arc of red energy shot from the sword.
But it wasn't a cut.
It was a net.
A complex geometric structure of crimson Reiatsu that flew over Granny's head, ignoring the destruction device, and impacted directly against the Boom Tube's energy frame.
"What...?" croaked Granny, turning around.
The red net hit the portal.
And the portal screamed.
The pure white light of the Boom Tube corrupted instantly.
It turned red.
Then black.
Urahara's energy wasn't destroying the portal; it was infecting it.
It was rewriting it.
"You see, ma'am," said Urahara, his voice resonating with power as he kept the sword pointed at the corrupt portal.
"New God technology is based on position exchange. Point A connects to Point B through a fold in space."
The hum of the Phase Destabilizer in Granny's hand changed pitch.
The wave of destruction that had exited the device paused in the air, frozen.
"But if you change the coordinates of Point B..." continued Urahara, with a savage smile.
"...then the tunnel becomes a vacuum cleaner."
The Boom Tube, now a black and red vortex of furious energy, reversed its flow.
Instead of spitting out invaders, it began to suck.
The red desert air began to flow into the portal with the force of a hurricane.
Rocks lifted from the ground and flew into the darkness.
The destruction wave from Granny's device was sucked backward, swallowed by the portal before it could touch the dimension's walls.
Granny Goodness screamed, digging her boots into the ground as the artificial gravity of the portal tried to drag her.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" she roared, fighting the wind.
"I changed the shipping address," replied Urahara cheerfully, his haori flapping violently in the storm he himself had created.
"Return to sender. Postage due."
On the horizon, Lashina, who had been trapped in the mud, was ripped from the ground.
She screamed as she flew through the air, passing Urahara, and disappearing into the black vortex.
Stompa, who had been returning from the mountains, tried to anchor herself, but the suction force was conceptual, not physical.
She was dragged, boots leaving deep furrows in the rock before losing traction and being engulfed by the portal.
"MY GIRLS!" shouted Granny.
She looked at Urahara with pure hatred.
"You will pay for this, worm! Darkseid will find you! He will break you!"
"Tell him I look forward to having tea with him," said Urahara.
"But now... it is closing time."
Urahara changed stance.
He held the sword with both hands, pointing directly at Granny Goodness's chest, who struggled to remain standing in front of the vortex.
The air around Urahara began to vibrate.
Intense blue light began to gather at the tip of the blade, so bright Kara had to shield her eyes.
It wasn't Benihime.
It was Kidō.
Pure demon magic, incantation-less, generated by the shopkeeper's immense spiritual pressure.
"Hado #88: Hiryu Gekizoku Shinten Raiho." (Flying Dragon-Striking Heaven-Shaking Thunder Cannon).
Urahara didn't whisper the name.
He didn't shout it.
He simply thought it.
And released the power.
A beam of blue spiritual energy, thick as a tree trunk and crackling with static electricity, shot from the sword.
It wasn't intended to pierce.
It was intended to push.
The beam hit Granny Goodness in the center of her chest.
Her Apokolips armor, forged in fire pits, withstood the impact, but the physics were undeniable.
Granny was launched backward as if hit by a freight train.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" she shouted, as her feet left the ground.
The Kidō beam pushed her, carried her, dragged her through the desert air and threw her directly into the heart of the corrupt Boom Tube.
The portal swallowed her.
The instant she disappeared, Urahara made a cutting motion with his sword.
"Close."
The red net surrounding the portal tightened.
The black vortex imploded.
With a final sound, like distant dull thunder, the Boom Tube collapsed on itself and disappeared, leaving only empty air and the smell of burnt ozone.
Silence returned to the rock garden.
Gravity normalized.
The wind ceased.
Urahara remained standing, sword still in hand, looking at the spot where the portal had been.
He lowered the weapon slowly.
He exhaled a long sigh, shaking his shoulders.
"What an unpleasant visit," he said, breaking the tension with his usual tone of slight complaint.
"And they didn't even buy anything."
He turned to Kara and Barda.
Barda was jaw-dropped, her Mega-Rod hanging limp in her hand.
She had seen Highfathers fight. She had seen Darkseid use the Omega Effect.
But she had never seen anyone... hack a Boom Tube and use it as a cosmic vacuum cleaner.
"You..." Barda began, but couldn't find the words.
"Is everyone okay?" asked Urahara, sheathing Benihime and walking toward them.
"Is Scott still anchored?"
Barda blinked, coming out of her stupor.
"Yes. Yes, he's inside."
Kara ran to Urahara.
"That was amazing!" she exclaimed, eyes shining with residual adrenaline.
"You threw her! You threw Granny Goodness back to her planet! And the blue beam! What was that?"
"A little nudge," said Urahara modestly, adjusting his hat.
"Sometimes guests don't understand subtle hints. One must be... direct."
He looked around the desert landscape of his pocket dimension.
There were craters. There were shattered rocks. The ground was scorched in several places.
"Well," he said, grimacing.
"I guess the 'Red Rock' decor will have to stay for a while. Fixing this is going to take weeks."
"Kisuke," said Barda, her voice serious.
Urahara looked at her.
"You sent them back," said Barda. "But you didn't kill them. And now they know where you are. They know what you can do."
"I know," said Urahara.
"Darkseid will come," warned Barda. "He won't send Granny next time. He will come. Or Kalibak. Or Mantis. This is a declaration of war."
Urahara smiled.
It wasn't a smile of fear.
It was the smile of someone who has already calculated the moves of the next ten games.
"Let them come," he said.
"This is my shop, Barda-san. And in my shop, the customer is not always right. Sometimes, the customer gets a kick in the ass."
He walked toward the traditional house, which remained intact amidst the chaos.
"Now," he said, rubbing his hands.
"I think that pizza must be cold. But I have a microwave that runs on spiritual energy. It should make it crispy in three seconds. Who's hungry?"
Kara laughed, a laugh of relief and wonder.
Barda shook her head, but a small smile of respect appeared on her battle-hardened face.
They followed the shopkeeper toward the house.
The war with Apokolips had begun.
But for tonight, victory tasted like reheated pizza and the safety of a home not even gods could tear down.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
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