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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - KAYDEN
🕑 Added 2024-12-17 07:48:24 +0000 UTCKayden Anders (née Russel) soared over Brockton Bay’s ruins, her light cutting through the sky. Her glow, pristine and blinding, contrasted sharply with the destruction below—streets torn asunder, buildings reduced to rubble, and the jagged crater where Crawler’s massive frame had struck the earth.
Then she saw him.
Superman floated mid-air, unwavering and steady, his red cape snapping against the wind. Despite the battle, he looked untouched, unshaken. His calm was infuriating. Admirable.
It wasn’t just his power, though that alone was undeniable. He carried himself with a presence, a quiet confidence that made everything around him feel smaller, inconsequential. Her light burned brighter when she was near him, as if her power recognized something in him—something that demanded to be challenged. Respected.
Kayden clenched her fists, feeling the hum of energy still crackling through her veins. Superman didn’t radiate power the way she did; he didn’t blaze with it or tear the world apart just by existing. He was something else entirely—restrained, measured, the embodiment of control.
And she hated how much that unsettled her.
“What?” Superman’s voice broke through her thoughts, pointed as he looked down at her. “You’re staring.”
Purity blinked, scowling as she turned away. “Don’t flatter yourself, alien.”
He didn’t reply, but she caught the faintest flicker of a smile before he turned his attention back to Crawler’s rising form.
Infuriating.
Crawler unfurled his massive limbs, claws gouging into the earth as he turned to face his tormentor. The screams of civilians and distant sirens faded against the sound of his guttural roar—a sound that rattled glass and seemed to seep into the bones of those who heard it. Purity felt her jaw tighten. She hated capes like Crawler. Monsters. The ones who justified the worst parts of what people thought about their kind.
She wouldn’t let him live.
The monster’s grotesque grin revealed rows of acid-coated teeth. He was enjoying this—every swing, every blow.
But he was slowing down.
Purity’s lips curled into a faint smile. Even monsters bleed.
She hovered higher, palms outstretched, her body glowing brighter as she pulled the light into herself. Superman’s plan was clear now: isolate Crawler, keep him focused, and wear him down. He was giving her and the others time to move into position.
“Purity,” a voice crackled in her earpiece. Kaiser. His tone was cold, clipped. Focused. “Take his flank. He’s distracted. Aegis and I will pin him—set up your shot.”
“Copy,” she replied curtly.
Her radiance intensified as she streaked toward the battlefield, her light cutting through clouds of ash and smoke. She descended like a comet, circling wide to avoid Crawler’s lashing limbs and acid sprays.
Superman was doing his job well. He weaved effortlessly around Crawler’s strikes, landing precise, devastating blows that cracked the monster’s chitinous armor. But Crawler was adapting—his plates were thicker now, spines sharper. Where Superman had hit him before, new layers of armor had already formed.
“You’re starting to bore me, alien!” Crawler roared, swinging wildly. His claws carved through a bus, sending the wreckage spiraling into the air.
Superman caught it effortlessly, his expression hardening as he set the twisted metal aside. “And you’re still slow,” he shot back, voice calm.
Crawler snarled, lunging again.
Purity didn’t wait. Her hands glowed white-hot, and a twin helix of energy spiraled from her palms, expanding as it neared the ground. The light slammed into Crawler’s side with a thunderous boom, tearing through asphalt and sending a shockwave outward. The impact threw cars aside like toys.
The monster stumbled, his claws scraping across the ground as his many eyes whipped toward her. “You,” he snarled, his voice a guttural growl that rumbled through her bones. Acid dripped from his jaws, sizzling where it fell. “You wanna play too, little girl?”
Purity didn’t answer. Instead, she sent another blast, the light blinding as it struck his shoulder. Flesh burned. Armor cracked.
“Yes, keep him focused!” Kaiser’s voice called.
Metal shrieked as iron spires erupted from the ground beneath Crawler, spearing upward in jagged spikes. Kaiser rose from the ruins on a platform of steel, his armoured figure gleaming as the spires twisted and pinned Crawler’s massive limbs. Crawler’s roar shook the air as he struggled, ripping one arm free with a sickening crack. Chunks of metal snapped and scattered, but more iron grew to take its place.
“Hold him!” Superman’s voice boomed as he dove. His fists slammed into Crawler’s head—once, twice—each strike sending shockwaves through the earth.
Purity circled overhead, her light building. She could feel the heat of it burning through her skin, the energy screaming to be released. Not yet.
A blur shot past her—a figure in black and white.
Aegis.
The young hero descended like a missile, slamming his shoulder into Crawler’s head with a force that would have pulverized a lesser opponent. Crawler roared in pain, staggered by the unexpected hit. Aegis didn’t stop; he punched again and again, his reinforced body shrugging off the shock of striking something so dense.
“Get his attention!” Superman barked, sweeping low to grab Crawler’s tail and yanking him backward. The combined effort of Aegis’s assault and Superman’s raw strength finally brought Crawler to his knees.
Purity saw her opening.
She flew higher, the city below becoming little more than blurred lights and shadows. The energy within her was blinding now, her body a living beacon. Her white costume shone brilliantly, the light radiating so fiercely that Superman was the only one who dared to look up at her.
Even he’s not afraid to meet my gaze, she thought.
A split second later, she released it all.
“Clear!” she shouted, and Superman vanished in a heartbeat, Aegis breaking off a moment later.
A column of light exploded downward like divine judgement, wider than Crawler himself. The force shattered windows for blocks and lit up the sky in white. The street cracked and splintered under the impact, and the air itself seemed to hum as the energy scoured everything in its path.
Crawler’s screams pierced the air as the light burned through him. She didn’t let up. Her body trembled from the strain as she poured everything she had into the beam, the ground cracking and groaning, the air shimmering from the intensity of the energy.
Kaiser’s spikes twisted tighter, holding him in place, reinforced by even more iron sprouting from the ground to pin his limbs.
And still, he moved.
His roar turned into a defiant scream, limbs thrashing even as his armoured skin melted, blistered, cracked, and then peeled away entirely. His body was still healing—still adapting—but the light didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
“Fall,” Purity growled, her voice trembling.
Superman appeared again in a blur, driving his fist into Crawler’s skull with enough force to crater the earth beneath him again.
Finally, Crawler’s movements stilled.
Purity’s beam sputtered and faded, the energy within her finally spent. She hovered unsteadily above the ruined street, her breathing ragged. Smoke curled from Crawler’s body, his form charred and broken, barely recognizable as the monstrous creature he’d been minutes ago.
Superman landed lightly nearby, his cape still fluttering. His gaze swept over the wreckage, his expression hard. “He’s down.” His voice cut through the silence.
Purity lowered herself to the ground, her light dimming to a faint glow. Her body ached, her skin humming with residual energy. “He’s not dead,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration.
“Maybe not,” Superman admitted. He turned to her, his expression steady. “But he’s not getting back up for a while.”
Aegis stumbled forward, his armor battered but intact. “We did it?”
“For now,” Kaiser said, descending from his iron perch. His armor glinted as he regarded Crawler’s broken form. “The freak’s not invincible. Good to know.”
Purity looked at Superman, her pale eyes narrowing. “This was your plan?”
Superman met her gaze without flinching. “Containment, not annihilation. He’ll heal, but next time? He won’t be so eager to fight us.”
Kayden’s jaw tightened as she clenched her fists, her glow flaring brighter for a heartbeat before dimming again. She hated it. That infuriating calm. That maddening mercy. Containment. He spoke the word like it was gospel, like it was enough.
“It would have been better to kill the monster,” she said, her voice sharp.
Superman didn’t look away. Didn’t waver. “Maybe. But we’re not monsters. Not him, not me… and not you.”
Her glow flickered, and something tightened in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if it was anger, guilt, or something else entirely.
She turned her gaze away, the light radiating from her dimming further. “You don’t know me, Superman.”
“I know enough,” he replied simply. His tone wasn’t soft, wasn’t harsh—just steady, like everything else about him. It gnawed at her, because a small part of her wanted to believe it.
Kayden scoffed, letting the light swell back around her, almost defiant. “You’ll regret this,” she said, her words like steel. “When he comes back stronger, and you’ve wasted the chance to end him for good.”
Superman’s eyes lingered on her, unshaken as ever. “If he comes back, we’ll stop him again. That’s what we do.”
And we—that single word—hung between them, sharper than any blade. For all his strength, for all his power, he still spoke as if he weren’t alone. As if none of them had to be.
Kayden turned sharply, lifting herself higher into the air. “You’ll see,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the wind.
She didn’t look back. Didn’t want to see that same unflinching resolve on his face. Because for all her power, for all her light, Superman’s words had planted something unwanted in her mind.
Doubt.
