During the flight to the base, I had time to think about a few things that troubled me. The vampire dangled in my hand, unconscious, with no brain activity, but I figured that wouldn't last long.
The landscape of destruction from our battle stretched endlessly below. I climbed higher, easily piercing the dense atmospheric layers for a better view of the scale. The vampire's limp body swayed in my grip, his regeneration slowed but ongoing—muscles and bones knitting with faint cracks, spikes retracting under his skin with wet slurps.
Below, scarred landscapes flashed by—shattered mountain ridges, forests uprooted, and smoking craters kilometers wide. My eyes, capable of seeing it all, closed in disappointment. Always destruction. Where we'd clashed over the ocean, the water still churned, evaporated masses condensing into low storm clouds flashing with lightning. Not bad for thirteen percent of my power.
Fine. Opening my eyes, I flew on. We crossed the equator, heading toward the hemisphere where the base was located. My speed increased quickly, but I tried not to push too hard. I needed to think.
This planet, it's my strength. And my weakness. It's all too complicated.
Yes, I conquered it. Yes, everyone on this planet now answers to me. Not literally, of course—I didn't want to micromanage every order, though I could. I chose to delegate my authority. Ellis, rejuvenated Ellis, was the best option I had. Smart, pragmatic, and fiercely loyal. She swore never to forget who saved her last relative, her beloved granddaughter.
I trusted her. And that trust made her the one who kept everyone in line. The world's governments were ours. High-ranking officials didn't dare think of overthrowing her. They all knew who stood behind the rejuvenated woman. But ruling through fear wouldn't last forever. A carrot was needed.
And maybe this…
The vampire in my hand muttered something, his lips moving, releasing a trickle of black liquid, but consciousness hadn't returned. Interesting—how old was he? If he wasn't lying about witnessing the fall of civilizations, he could be thousands of years old, or more. A valuable source of information, if I could make him talk. Maybe this would be the carrot.
My thoughts shifted to what he said about my aura. "Chaotic," he called it. I always thought I only had my power core and telekinetic shield, but apparently, there was something more. Something I didn't understand or notice. It needed study. Maybe it could solve my mental defense issue.
So many searches, experiments with my power, but I was still at a dead end. I couldn't find anything to protect my mind from being taken over. I was completely screwed.
Damn it.
Darkseid. The creature that took control of me. The vampires that tried to catch my gaze during battles. All of them used different but similar powers.
I wasn't sure if the god from Apokolips did it, but I hoped he somehow influenced me. Altered my consciousness somehow. Affected my perception of the world…
Because otherwise, I'd just be a coward who fled and abandoned superheroes. Friends, maybe?
Don't think about it, I told myself, and continued on.
I'd find a solution to this problem. I had to.
---
I flew over snow-covered mountain ridges, and there it was. The base.
In the distance, the base's outlines appeared—stark geometric shapes standing out against the wild landscape. The landing pad was already lit, meaning Michael had warned the others of my arrival. I slowed my flight, letting the wind cool my scalding skin, still hissing from evaporated blood. The vampire in my hand twitched—his regeneration had quickened, flesh knitting with wet cracks, but consciousness hadn't returned. Good. Let him rest before the interrogation.
The base loomed before me in all its cold, functional glory. A complex of three main buildings rose in a deep basin, surrounded by jagged cliffs piercing low clouds. The central structure—a massive tower with a flat top, crowned with antennas catching signals from orbit and beyond. Its dark walls, made of reinforced composite mined from this planet's depths and processed with Illuminati tech, absorbed light, making it nearly invisible at night. Two adjacent wings—warehouses and labs—stretched outward, connected by a network of covered transparent passages flickering with system lights. Deep beneath, carved into the rock with surgical precision, were additional levels storing everything needed for war or survival: reactors to arsenals.
The landing pad, ringed with blue beacons, pulsed with energy. Its surface, coated in an alloy that withstood extreme temperatures, smoked faintly—traces of a recent Alpha shuttle launch. Above the pad, a pair of turrets tracked my approach but lowered their barrels, recognizing my signal. The "friend-or-foe" system, keyed to my face, never failed. Off to the side was a crater—remnants of a failed plasma accelerator experiment I'd destroyed when it went rogue. Ellis griped for a week that I nearly leveled half the base.
I landed smoothly, barely touching the surface, and felt the pad shudder under my weight—sensors instantly relayed the signal inside. Guards poured out: twelve fighters in heavy exosuits, their helmets' red visors glowing in the dark, weapons—pulse rifles charged with Illuminati-stolen crystal energy—humming softly in their hands. They formed a semicircle around me, keeping their distance, but their tense postures betrayed unease. Even unconscious, the vampire radiated danger—his cracked, spiked skin smoked, and drops of black blood hissed, leaving tiny scorched marks on the metal pad.
"To the cell," I ordered, handing the vampire to the two nearest fighters. Their insulated gloves gripped his limbs, avoiding direct skin contact. "Don't touch him barehanded. No telling what could happen."
The main entrance's automatic doors slid open with a hiss, releasing a gust of cool air smelling of metal and antiseptic. We stepped inside, and the contrast hit hard: outside, chaos and darkness; inside, sterile white walls lined with alloy panels reflecting soft, even light. The main hall greeted us with a twenty-meter-high ceiling and floating holographic screens. One displayed a planetary map with red markers of destruction—my handiwork from the past hours. Another showed atmospheric scans, revealing anomalies from our strikes: rips in the cloud layer, radiation spikes over the ocean. Technicians in gray jumpsuits at wall consoles froze, watching us with a mix of fear and curiosity. Nothing new.
We crossed the hall to the elevator shaft—a transparent cylinder wrapped in spiraling blue energy lines. The lift descended silently, revealing the base's innards through glass walls. First level: arsenal, rows of racks with weapons from kinetic rifles to prototype heat lances I'd helped design. Second: labs, white-clad scientists in protective suits hunched over tables where alien organic samples sparked in vials. Pity I didn't save the Atlantean, but I got the bones. Third: training halls, where Alphas practiced maneuvers in simulators, their movements mirrored on screens in real time. Cold light from ceiling panels gave an eternal daylight feel, despite sinking deeper underground.
The air grew cooler, the walls thicker, humming from hidden generators. Here, at the lower levels, the base became a fortress. Ellis hated this place—said it felt like a morgue, too sterile, too dead. She preferred her "sunlit city," ruling with a smile and an iron fist, leaving me this cold stronghold. But for creatures like this vampire, the base was perfect.
We exited the lift into a long corridor lined with black metal and red marker lines. On both sides: cell and interrogation room doors, behind which machines hummed and surveillance systems hissed. At the corridor's end was an Omega-class cell—a hexagonal chamber carved into the rock, lined with transparent material stronger than diamond, reinforced with force fields. Its walls faintly shimmered from embedded sensors tracking every change inside. The floor was a grate, hiding channels for draining liquids—blood, venom, whatever might leak from a prisoner.
"Place him in the center and activate the force field," I said, watching the fighters lower the vampire to the floor. His body hit with a dull thud, black ooze spreading across the grate, vanishing into the drains. One fighter approached the entrance panel and entered the code—a blue shimmer flared around the vampire, the force field humming as it compressed the air inside. I stepped to the main console in the wall and cranked the power to maximum. Energy crackled, reflecting off the transparent walls, and the console's sensors began outputting data: pulse—erratic but present; energy spikes—weak but steady. Regeneration continued, albeit slowly.
"Is he dangerous even like this?" Michael asked, approaching. His pants faintly jingled with each step, his face, still damp from a shower, tense. The smell of soap mixed with a faint hint of blood—his or someone else's, I didn't ask.
"More than dangerous. He nearly pushed me past thirteen percent," I nodded toward the glass, where the vampire lay. His chest rose slowly, skin bubbling as it healed. "And he has information we need."
"What's next?"
"Wait for him to come to," I said, turning to Michael as the base hummed beneath my feet from its systems. "And bring me the two surviving vampires. We need to extract everything they know."
Michael nodded and left, his steps echoing off the corridor walls. I stayed, staring at the prisoner through the glass. The base breathed around me—generators humming deep below, air filtering through hidden vents, sensors beeping softly, tracking every breath of the creature in the cell. This place was my fortress, my tool. But watching the vampire, his body slowly regenerating, I realized: what we knew of our enemies was just a shadow of the true threat. And this base, for all its power, might only be a temporary shelter against what was coming.