Bonus chapter
NOTE for those without patience: Instead of complaining in every chapter, have patience and read, or simply leave. No one forced you to read. It's getting really annoying. This is the reason so many Shazam ff got abandoned.
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John's uppercut collided with Giganta's chin like a thunderclap, and the force launched her straight into the sky. Her massive body shot upward like a bullet fired from a giant cannon, limbs flailing as she broke through clouds and vanished for a second into the storm-torn sky.
Before gravity could claim her, John blinked behind her in a crackle of lightning. He raised his leg and slammed his boot into the center of her spine. The sound of her back breaking echoed through the sky like a snapping tree in a hurricane. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her limbs stiffened mid-air.
John appeared again in front of her falling form, fist cocked.
One punch. Straight to her face.
The blow cracked through her skull with an explosion of blood. Her eyes rolled back. Blood burst from her nose, mouth, and ears. She lost consciousness mid-air. Her body plummeted back to the earth like a meteor. She slammed into the center of the street, collapsing a city block into a fresh crater. Dust and debris flew in every direction. A shockwave rippled through the surrounding buildings.
By the time the rubble settled, she had returned to her normal size. Her giantess form vanished, leaving a badly beaten woman twitching at the bottom of the pit. Her body was broken, her limbs bent at unnatural angles. She was barely breathing.
John didn't stop.
In a blink, he was in front of Metallo.
The cybernetic villain raised his arm to fire, but it never reached full extension.
John drove both hands straight into Metallo's chest. Metal shrieked. Sparks exploded. Circuits burst like blood vessels. Metallo screamed as John ripped him apart. His body split clean in two with a horrible screech of tearing alloy and wires. The green kryptonite core pulsed wildly as it broke free.
John caught the core in one hand and squeezed.
The crystal cracked. Green light flared once. Then it shattered.
The pieces fell to the ground and hissed into nothing, smoke curling into the air.
A scream cut through the aftermath.
Silver Banshee flew toward him, mouth wide, her voice tearing through the wind. The sonic wave reached John in seconds, but he was gone before it struck.
He blinked to her side, leaving only a spark of lightning where he had stood.
Before she could react, John grabbed her jaw with one hand.
The bones in her face crunched. Her scream stopped mid-note, cut off by the crushing grip. Her eyes went wide with panic. She tried to claw at his arm, but he didn't flinch, and her nails broke with blood frizzling out.
He drove her downward, slamming her into the pavement with enough force to crater the ground beneath her. Her body bounced, then hit again. He kicked her like a bug. She skipped across the street like a stone over water before slamming into a wrecked van and collapsing to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.
The street fell silent.
John landed near Wonder Woman in a burst of wind and crackling light. His boots hit the broken concrete with enough force to send dust swirling. She was leaning against the remnants of a crushed support pillar, blood streaking down her brow, her shield cracked at the edge.
He stepped toward her. "Are you alright?"
Diana exhaled through gritted teeth and nodded. "I've had worse. Thank you."
"Just protecting my home," John said, then added, "Rest. I'll handle the rest."
Without waiting for a reply, he took off again, streaking through the ruined skyline.
A few blocks away, Superman and Cyclone were in the middle of a partially evacuated street. Cyclone was crouched beside Superman, who was kneeling, catching his breath beneath the partial shade of a tilted building. His arms were trembling from the Kryptonite exposure and exhaustion, and for some reason, his body wasn't healing. Probably because of the cloudy sky, or the extensive exposure to Kryptonite.
John landed beside them with another crack of wind.
"I'm taking him up," he said.
Cyclone looked up, strands of her red hair plastered to her forehead from the rain. "There are snipers. High-altitude."
"I know," John said, reaching down and gripping Superman's arm.
Clark looked up at him. "You're sure about this?"
"No."
John launched into the air with Superman held tight in his grip.
They broke through the upper floors of a half-collapsed building and soared into the sky.
Almost instantly, sharp hisses cut through the air.
Sniper fire.
Dozens of high-velocity rounds sliced toward them from the rooftops and clouds, glints of silver and green flashing between bursts of lightning. The rounds were tipped with Kryptonite, aimed with precision. But they didn't touch them.
John's body ignited with electricity. Sparks crackled across his skin. A storm of lightning burst around him, expanding in every direction like a shield. The air snapped with unstable energy. Each bullet hit the lightning barrier and either disintegrated mid-flight or was knocked aside, spinning harmlessly.
The barrier wasn't perfect, since John hadn't used this power in years. So, yeah, a little rusty. He used the Wisdom of Zehuti on the go to learn more about his power. When they reached enough height, he twisted in the air, using every ounce of strength he had left, and hurled Superman upward.
"Heal up, Blues."
Superman looked down at John and said, "Thank you."
The Man of Steel shot like a missile through the clouds. Within seconds, he pierced the stratosphere, his cape trailing behind him. He flew free of the atmosphere, above the range of any weapon. There, sunlight poured down without a filter, washing over his battered body. He began to heal.
...
Below, in the heart of Fawcett City, the battle had ended.
Wonder Woman stood in the wreckage, her shield lowered, her sword sheathed. Cyclone floated above the ruins of the courthouse, watching over the last of the evacuees. Hal Jordan hovered in the sky, forming barriers as emergency crews moved in.
Flash stood near a crumpled statue, winded and covered in soot, beside Batman.
"Twenty bombs. All disabled," Flash said, panting. "You were right. Joker didn't care about symbols. He used patterns. Rotating time codes, synced through power lines. I followed the pulse. Boom. Ten extra bombs hiding in the sewers and power grid."
Batman didn't look up from the device in his hand. "They weren't meant to detonate. Not until someone like Superman got close. Joker built them as a trap. A political one."
"What? You mean all this was just..."
"A stage," Batman said flatly. "To frame Superman and paint him as a lunatic. Joker was never aiming to destroy the city. He wanted the world to think Superman could."
"This is Lex Luthor written all over it," Flash said, cracking his knuckles.
A gust of wind signaled Superman's arrival. He landed beside them.
"Everyone safe?" he asked.
Flash nodded, catching his breath. "Barely."
Batman looked up. "Where's the other one? The lightning-powered man."
Superman's face tensed. "Gone. I searched from the sky but couldn't trace him. It's like he disappeared."
Flash rubbed the back of his neck. "He's the reason half this city is still standing. Took down Metallo, Banshee, and Giganta like they were made of foam. And Flamingo? Let's just say... cleanup on aisle 'Oh God What Is That.'"
Batman was silent for a moment, then pulled out a small black device. He tapped into satellite feeds. But found nothing.
"Let him be," Diana said as she walked toward them.
"So, you want a metahuman or god knows what he was, just roam free without a tag?" Hawkgirl flew down and asked with a concerned expression. "Don't get me wrong, everyone is glad he helped fight off those criminals, but still..."
Batman caught Diana's worried expression.
"No. Wonder Woman is correct. As long as he doesn't create any problems for us, let him be. We have enough problems on our hands as it is," Batman said as he tapped a few buttons on his gauntlet, and a holographic screen popped up. "Someone broke into Waller's underwater metahuman prison and released almost every criminal we captured so far. They took advantage of this chaos. Right now, let's focus on them before things get out of hand."
...
[1 Month Later – Dakota City]
The midday sun burned overhead as a familiar speeding pizza delivery scooter weaved through heavy traffic. The vehicle buzzed between cars, barely missing side mirrors and bumpers, as the blonde girl riding it leaned into every turn like a professional racer. Her long twin pigtails flared behind her helmet like two golden streamers caught in the wind. A tiny speaker strapped to the handlebars blasted pop music at a disrespectful volume, drawing a few annoyed glares from nearby drivers.
"Move it or lose it, crust chompers!" Harley Quinn yelled as she zipped between a garbage truck and a convertible. She honked the little clown horn strapped to the side of the scooter for good measure. The logo painted on the back of her pink-and-white delivery jacket read J&H Pizza: We Knead You, and her insulated pizza bag was bouncing dangerously close to falling off the back.
She had already gotten caught in traffic twice that day thanks to an overturned truck carrying fish. The stench had made her gag into her helmet, and she had to drive through a storm of flopping, dying tuna while a half-dozen city workers yelled at her to slow down. She hadn't, of course. Harley Quinn didn't slow down for anything unless it was chocolate cake or a well-mannered hyena.
Now she was cutting through a back alley, skidding past a man with a pushcart who yelled something in Spanish that Harley probably deserved. The shortcut saved her twenty seconds. The pizza wasn't getting any warmer, and the customer had ordered double meatball, which Harley respected deeply. She took her job seriously. Most days.
She burst back onto the main road and swerved to avoid a parked police cruiser. Her front tire hit a pothole the size of a baby pool, but she recovered smoothly, spinning the handlebars with one hand while the other adjusted her helmet.
The building she was aiming for finally came into view. It was a high-rise apartment block in the western sector of Dakota City, the kind with half-renovated balconies and flower pots sitting next to rusting AC units. Harley pulled the scooter onto the curb and killed the engine, the silence hitting like a slap. She hopped off, grabbed the pizza bag, and skipped to the front door with a bounce in her step.
The security guard sitting behind the desk raised an eyebrow as she entered.
"Delivery," she sang, holding up the bag. "Unit 1205. A Mr. R... oh wait, no, Ralf McStabYou or something LetmeStabY. Arg! Weird names."
The guard just sighed and buzzed her through.
She took the elevator, drumming her fingers against the warm box and humming along to the tune in her head. When the doors opened, she strolled out, walked to the door, and knocked with her usual flair.
"Pizza's here! I hope you're ready for a mouthful of heaven!"
The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged man in a bathrobe and socks that had definitely seen better days. His hair was wild, like he'd been electrocuted or woken from a nap involving questionable dreams and cheap wine. He blinked at Harley, eyes slowly adjusting to the sight of her.
She beamed, holding the pizza box like a holy relic.
"Double meatball with extra cheese and a sprinkle of joy, sir," she announced. "Delivered hot, fresh, and four whole minutes ahead of schedule."
The man rubbed his eyes. "You serious?"
Harley leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. "Sir, I am so serious I wore a helmet and survived a tuna apocalypse to get this here."
He stared at her for a long second, then chuckled and pulled a folded bill from his robe pocket. "You're a riot."
"Only on weekends," she said with a wink.
He handed her the cash. She glanced at it and smiled even wider. "A tip? Look at you, sir, making dreams come true."
"You earned it."
"Have a meatball miracle of a day!" Harley added, handing over the pizza and giving him a jaunty salute before turning on her heel and heading back to the elevator.
She didn't even wait until the doors closed before she checked the tip.
"Fifteen bucks," she whispered. "Oh, hot dog money."
As soon as she reached the street again, she kicked the scooter into gear and zipped toward her favorite hot dog stand three blocks away. The guy who ran it, Hector, always gave her extra mustard when she asked nicely. And today, she had cash, time, and an appetite.
By the time she pulled up, Hector was already waving.
"Miss Quinn!" he called. "Been a while."
She skidded to a stop with a dramatic swerve and jumped off the scooter. "Hector, my man, give me two of your finest sidewalk sausages. One with chili and pickles, one with everything. Bag 'em. One's for me, and the other's for my partner-in-pizza."
"Still working together?"
She nodded, leaning against the cart. "Yup. He makes 'em, I race 'em across town, and we make enough to not die. Plus, he's got these arms that could punch a satellite. Gotta feed the man."
Hector handed over the dogs, wrapped and bagged. Harley handed him the cash with a little dance. "Keep the change, my spicy weenie wizard."
He laughed. "Stay outta trouble."
"I promise nothing," she said, hopping back on the scooter. She stashed the hot dog bag carefully behind her seat, revved the engine, and pulled back into traffic like a missile covered in glitter.
...[Oh, yeah. Both of them opened their own pizza joint.]...
---[Don't forget those powerstones]---
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