Metropolis, Harlem.
Harlem had grown into one of Metropolis's prominent urban districts, a vibrant but dangerous area. Primarily home to Latino communities, with a significant Puerto Rican presence alongside other Latino and Black residents, it had earned a reputation over the years. The infamous Black neighborhood lay within its maze of streets, known for both its history and its hazards.
As night fell, a black Oldsmobile glided quietly through the tangled streets. The roads twisted unpredictably, like the work of a careless spider.
The car rolled past a row of houses with windows hanging half-open. Between the buildings, power lines stretched taut, and from them dangled pairs of sneakers—a silent warning. In this neighborhood, shoes on the lines were not a fashion statement but a grim marker of violence, signaling that someone had been killed.
The Oldsmobile came to a slow stop. Two striking women stepped out, commanding attention. One was tall, the other petite, both fair-skinned and impeccably dressed.
The taller woman wore a flowing Bohemian dress, a silk blouse, and gold bracelets that jingled with every movement. The shorter one sported black cigarette pants and dark sunglasses, exuding a cold, sharp aura.
Their presence immediately drew attention. Several men loitering on the street, openly stripping car parts, froze at the sight of them. Soon, five of the bolder men swaggered toward the women, their movements a mix of disrespect and bravado.
"Hey, ladies! Want to grab a drink? Swift Bar is just down the street, or Ice City Club has even more fun!" the lead man called, his voice a mix of charm and menace.
The taller woman's lips curved in a faint, disdainful smile. "Drink what? Antifreeze? Or maybe some mixture of lighter fluid and who knows what? Back off, or I'll make you regret it." The gold bracelets chimed with her words.
The men, unused to such defiance from women, lunged. Fists flew. But the taller woman, Ivanna, merely exhaled, sending a cloud of frigid mist toward the lead man. Within moments, his body froze, ice crystals racing from his feet to his face, freezing his blood and stilling his heart.
The others froze, stunned by the display. Terror spread, and they scattered in all directions, but Ivanna and Anna were not done.
Anna raised a hand, and a swirling ice storm burst from above, hunting the fleeing men. Wherever it touched, they were instantly encased in ice, transformed into statuesque forms, eerily beautiful yet grotesque against the dim autumn backdrop.
Ivanna exhaled, unconcerned. "There are always blind fools who ruin my mood. Anna, Julian lives nearby, right?"
"Just around this corner," Anna confirmed, her smile both lovely and chilling.
"I hope no one's gotten to him yet. Public safety here is… unpredictable."
Anna's small frame masked a lethal confidence. "We still want the thrill, though. Sister Ivanna, it's exciting to see what people can endure."
Ivanna chuckled lightly. "Be careful, though. We don't need higher-ups poking their noses in."
Their conversation turned to business. "Part of the Kryptonian spaceship wreckage was collected by the Blood Axe Gang and sold on the black market. If we find their leader, Julian, we can recover it for ourselves. I have doubts about him, but I'd rather not make a wasted trip."
A week had passed since the Battle of Metropolis. The city, though heavily damaged, was slowly recovering, the U.S. government having completed most of the immediate rescue operations. Metropolis, the jewel of prosperity and innovation, was beginning the painful but necessary process of rebuilding.
Anna's cautious glance at Ivanna betrayed her lingering concern. "If we push too far, we risk exposure. Those two superhumans, Superman and Homelander—their power is immense. If they target us…"
"You worry too much," Ivanna interrupted. "We are only here for the wreckage. The government has countless teams doing the same work. If the superhumans interfere, they'd have to contend with them first."
Anna nodded, conceding the point. The city was full of others like them—some ordinary, some gifted with extraordinary abilities. After the Metropolis Incident, the U.S. government had begun cataloging these individuals, training and testing them, sometimes recruiting them for missions like recovering alien technology. Rumor even suggested the creation of a special squad for direct confrontation with superpowered threats—a Suicide Squad of sorts.
Anna shivered at the thought but remained silent.
Ivanna motioned toward a dim alleyway. "We're here."
Despite preferring daytime operations, Anna followed, her excitement palpable. "The gang leader is mine. I like strong men who can resist. It's… stimulating."
Meanwhile, Adrian had returned to Metropolis University, finding the campus quiet except for a singular presence. Arthur Curry stood before him, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
"Why do these mermaids appear in Gotham?" Arthur asked, pointing animatedly.
Adrian frowned. "You like them?"
"It's not about liking. My father saw them before. He adored your books, especially 'The Dunwich Horror.' Said it was the most imaginative, terrifying thing he'd ever read."
Arthur's excitement spilled over. "When he was a lighthouse keeper, he witnessed these mermaids—crawling from the waves, disappearing without a trace. They might be linked to Atlantis, the place you mentioned!"
Adrian leaned casually against a desk. "And you want me to help you find Atlantis?"
Arthur nodded eagerly. "Yes! If you do, will you accept the title of Lord of Atlantis?"
Adrian's expression remained unreadable. "Lord of Atlantis?"
"Yes!" Arthur's eyes widened. "I'm not the master, I don't even know its location. But you—"
Adrian's voice was cold, detached. "The future is uncertain. Who can say what will happen?" He turned to leave, leaving Arthur staring after him.
"My father has passed," Arthur said softly, a pang of grief in his voice.
Adrian shrugged, unconcerned. "Truly unfortunate." He walked out, leaving the classroom bathed in silence and dim light.
"Wait!" Arthur called, chasing him. "If you help me, I promise!"
Arthur's heart sank slightly, a strange emptiness settling over him.
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