"And then he was like—" I paused for effect. "I'M GoNnA TUrN TRIanGLeS INTo fUCkiNG SqUArES."
Red Rush stared at me.
Aquarius stared at me.
Then I started losing it. And Red Rush went first, then Aquarius, with the kind of laugh where you're not sure what you're laughing at but you're already too far in to stop.
"What does that even mean—" Red Rush managed.
"It doesn't matter," I said. "That's the whole point. That's why it's funny."
"It really is," Aquarus said, which for some reason made it funnier.
Red Rush wiped his eye. "Okay. Okay. Who was this guy again?"
"Tienshinhan," I said. "Big guy. Bald with three eyes and a bad attitude."
Red Rush shook his head. Aquarus made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and disbelief.
Martian Man, who had drifted into the orbit of the conversation at some point without anyone noticing, tilted his head slightly.
"What happened to him?" he asked.
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
"Side-Character Limbo," I said.
---
Across the room, Immortal watched the three of us with the expression of a man reviewing evidence he didn't like.
"Is this really a good idea," he said. Not quite a question.
Cecil stood beside him, hands in his pockets, looking at nothing in particular.
"It's the only idea we have."
"That's not reassuring."
"It wasn't meant to be."
Immortal looked back at me. I was demonstrating something with my hands now — some scale of distance, probably — and Red Rush was leaning in, and Aquarius had his arms crossed with the satisfied posture of someone who had correctly predicted they were going to enjoy this afternoon.
Green Ghost had also migrated over at some point. Quietly, the way she did most things.
"He doesn't look so tough," Immortal said.
Cecil looked at him.
"We cannot afford what a conflict would cost us," he said. "Not right now. Not with everything else on the board."
Immortal's jaw tightened slightly.
"I know," he said.
He didn't look away from me.
---
The door opened.
War Woman came in with the manner of someone who'd been moving fast for hours and had just stopped. She read the room in about two seconds — the cluster around the green figure near the far console, the relaxed posture of people mid-conversation, Cecil and Immortal doing their thing at the edges.
"I apologize for the delay," she said. "Personal matters."
"You're not missing much," Cecil said. "He's been telling stories."
"I can see that." She looked at Aquarius. "He settling in alright?"
"Cell's been telling us about his universe," Aquarius said. "Some of it is quite something."
"Is that so."
I had been mid-sentence. I found my place.
"So that Tryclops son of a bitch," I continued, "launches me about thirty kilometers into the crust. Straight down."
"That is very impressive," Martian Man said. Completely genuine. No performance in him at all.
"Nah," I said. "I didn't take any damage. It was just incredibly annoying. You ever been buried under thirty kilometers of rock? The commute back up is miserable."
"Why were you and this Tenshinhan fighting in the first place?" Red Rush asked.
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
Cleared my throat.
Found something very interesting to look at near the door.
"Well," I said. "If it isn't my favorite Amazonian warrior."
War Woman looked at me with the patience of someone assembling it from scratch.
"Athenian," she said.
"Right, right. Potato potato." I waved a hand. "You look good. Rough day?"
"Manageable," she said, and set her things down, and looked at me with the direct manner she had for everything.
"I have a request. A somewhat selfish one."
"Go ahead."
"I want to spar with you."
Something in me paid attention.
"I've been watching since Washington," she said. "You have considerable raw ability. But controlled combat is different from instinct. I want to see what you can actually do in a proper environment."
I looked at her. The mace at her hip. The way she was standing — not tense, not performing anything, just present and ready the way very good fighters are ready.
"You know," I said, "when a woman that looks like you asks me to get physical, I have a hard time saying no."
She looked at me with infinite, professional patience.
"Is that a yes."
"That's a yes."
"I want in."
Immortal. Stepping forward from across the room with the energy of a man who had been waiting for a door to open and had just heard the handle turn.
I looked at him. Looked at War Woman. Looked back at him.
"Oh," I said. "Now it's a ménage à trois."
I looked between them both.
"Count me lubricated."
The room went quiet.
Everyone was looking at me. Red Rush. Aquarius. Martian Man. Green Ghost, who had become slightly more visible, which for her was the equivalent of leaning forward.
"What," I said.
War Woman closed her eyes for exactly one second.
"Training room," she said. "Now."
---
Cecil and the team took the observation platform. Armored glass, elevated, the kind of setup that said 'we want to watch but we'd also prefer to survive watching.' Red Rush was on the railing before anyone else had found their spot. Aquarius beside him. Martian Man with his hands folded, attentive. Darkwing — who had arrived from Midnight City about twenty minutes ago, stood slightly apart, tablet out, pen moving.
Cecil stood at the back. Said nothing.
On the floor below, the three of us.
War Woman to my left, mace in hand, settled into her stance with the ease of long practice. Not wound up. Ready. Which is different.
Immortal to my right, fists at his sides, wearing the face he always wore. Focused. Controlled. Something underneath that wasn't quite anger and wasn't quite eagerness but was in that general neighborhood.
I put my hands up.
Looked at both of them.
War Woman came in fast.
She drove the mace into my stomach with everything she had — full rotation, full weight, the committed swing of someone who wasn't testing, who had decided from the first step that half-measures were worse than nothing.
I didn't move.
She hit me again. Found her rhythm. Put her full weight behind every swing with the focused energy of a person working a problem correctly.
I didn't move.
Then Immortal came from above — both fists, no hesitation, straight down. The impact shook the floor hard enough that the observation platform rattled. War Woman felt it through her feet and glanced up at me instinctively, ready to recalibrate toward concern.
I hadn't moved.
Both of them braced.
My arms came up slowly.
I put one hand to my chin.
Crossed my arms.
"So," I said. "How do I put this without hurting your feelings."
They looked at me.
"The problem isn't you," I said.
And I meant it. Standing there, feeling the Ki signatures of both of them.
"You're both strong. Really strong. In my universe we used to measure combat ability through Ki output and assign it a number — Power Level. It's an imperfect system, we stopped using it when the numbers became Bullshit, but for a reference point—"
I looked at War Woman.
"You're around four hundred."
I looked at Immortal.
"You're closer to seven hundred and fifty."
And he wasn't lying. A regular untrained human sat around five. A peak human with years of martial arts, best they could ever be without Ki training , maybe fifty. Immortal at seven hundred could probably bring this entire mountain down with his bare hands. That was genuinely extraordinary. It just wasn't relevant to this particular conversation.
Immortal repeated the number slowly. "Seven hundred and Fifty."
"Seven hundred and Fifty. Which, relative to baseline humanity, is—"
"What's a regular human?" War Woman asked.
"Around five. A trained fighter at peak human condition, maybe fifty." I paused. "You're both operating at a level so far above that the comparison stops being meaningful."
She absorbed that. Immortal was doing what he always did — processing behind a controlled face.
"Power levels," she said.
"Shorthand. Imperfect but useful." I uncrossed my arms. "The system broke down when the numbers got too big. But for ranges like yours it still tracks."
Immortal was quiet for a moment. Doing something behind his eyes that I was choosing not to read too carefully.
Then:
"Cell."
"Mr. Perfect Cell," I said. Low. Mostly to myself.
"Compared to Omni-Man," he said. "Where does he sit."
The question landed the way it was always going to land — with weight, in silence, everyone on the platform going still at the same moment without coordinating it.
I thought about it. The Ki signature I'd felt that first night in the bathtub, reaching outward, finding that enormous presence to the northwest like putting your hand near a furnace.
"Ki fluctuates," I said. "Emotional state, intent, how much someone's holding back. I'm not running at full capacity right now. Neither is he, probably. And the number gets complicated above a certain threshold—"
"Best estimate," Immortal said. Flat. Patient. The tone of a man who had asked a question and would like an answer.
I looked at him.
"It's over Three thousand," I said.
Immortal stared at me.
"What."
"Over Three thousand. Probably slightl—"
"OVER THREE THOUSAND?!"
The words came out with a force that had nothing diplomatic in it. Raw, loud, the specific register of a man whose grip on composure had just been structurally exceeded. On the platform above, Red Rush blinked. Aquarius raised an eyebrow. Darkwing's pen stopped moving for a second, then resumed.
Cecil, at the back of the platform, was very still.
'Not at full capacity', he was thinking. 'He said he's not at full capacity. And the number is already—'
He filed it. Kept his face even. Added a line to a document that existed only in his head.
"And you," War Woman said.
She was looking at me the way she looked at everything. Direct. Steady. No performance.
"How strong are you. Actually."
I looked at her for a moment.
"You really don't want to know," I said.
---
That night.
Thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic.
The frequency opened on the channel that didn't exist on any human instrument.
Nolan floated in the dark above the cloud layer. Below him, the ocean. Above him, stars. The altitude he came to when he needed to be somewhere between things.
"Report."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Human-Viltrumite genetic compatibility confirmed," he said. "The evidence is sufficient. Conquest projections hold."
Kregg waited.
"The anomaly?"
"Extradimensional," Nolan said. "Not from this universe."
"Threat assessment."
A pause.
"He is the most powerful entity currently on this planet," Nolan said.
"Can he be neutralized?"
"Unknown." A beat. "He doesn't appear hostile."
"That is not an assessment."
"No," Nolan said. "It isn't. I need more time."
He looked down at the ocean.
"I'll be in contact," Nolan said.
The frequency closed.
He floated there for a moment longer.
He turned east.
Flew.