| Washington D.C. - August 10
After parting ways with Kori, Joseph took one last look at the skyline before lifting off into the air. The warmth of their afternoon together still lingered, but the world didn't pause for peace. His time off was over. Back to work.
He soared toward Chicago, cutting through clouds and cold winds like a comet cloaked in purple and gold. Carla Viti had wrapped up her investigation into Meta/Tech, and her findings lined up with the claims made by William Kavanagh—the human-pterodactyl hybrid currently sitting in Slabside Penitentiary after a brief, violent run-in with Nova.
According to her, a man named Etienne Du Vipere IX had wrested control of the Netherworld—Chicago's infamous underground slum with higher rates of impoverished metahumans. He had used that foothold and his family's wealth to acquire Meta/Tech, a shadowy company built atop the bones of the long-defunct Sunderland Corporation. Once run by General Avery Carlton Sunderland, the company had been a grotesquely profitable entity with deep government and criminal ties before its spectacular collapse. The public story was that Sunderland had been torn apart by a swamp creature—the same one people were now whispering about as "Swamp Thing."
Whatever the truth, the trail of bodies and vanished metas had not stopped with Sunderland's fall. Now, Meta/Tech had returned, quietly rebooted under a new name and new leadership—and people from the Netherworld were still disappearing.
So Nova was here to find out why.
Nova hovered high in the air just outside the Meta/Tech facility, scanning the building with narrowed eyes. His belt shimmered as he pressed a button, activating his stealth tech. The purple of his suit darkened, the gold shifting into a deep obsidian tone.
His Nova Sense picked up dozens of signatures — flickers of bioelectric energy — lit up the building. But one area in particular stood out: the basement. Dense, erratic energy. Concentrated. Likely where the missing metas were being kept — or experimented on.
Time to move.
Nova descended silently onto the rooftop. With a practiced ease learned from his days as Flux, he slipped through a maintenance entrance, bypassing cameras and infrared sensors without a hitch. His Nova Sense made it easy. He could see the entire building in his head — every heat signature, every patrol route, every heartbeat.
He ghosted through the upper floors, ducking into maintenance halls, slipping between shadows. No alarms. No witnesses. No problem.
Soon he reached the basement access corridor. Two armed guards stood by the door, chatting about something he didn't bother to listen to. He blurred forward and knocked both men unconscious in the span of a breath. He caught one as he fell, dragging him behind a corner before grabbing the access card clipped to his vest.
He unlocked the door and descended into darkness.
The air changed the moment he stepped inside.
It was colder. Still. The kind of silence that lived in places people weren't supposed to see. The stench of blood, chemicals, and human waste assaulted his senses. A soft hum of machinery echoed through the corridor, a low drone that crawled under the skin.
Nova walked slowly, his body tense. He passed a series of transparent pods, each one containing a grotesque, twisted figure. Some of the bodies were reptilian, others had fungal growths or skin like bark. Many wore tattered lab coats. Failed experiments. Maybe scientists turned test subjects.
It was horrific.
He pressed on, the Nova Sense tingling as he neared the end of the hallway. Sixteen distinct life signatures up ahead. He opened the final door. Time to get some answers.
The room beyond was cavernous, lit by a sickly green hue emanating from the technology embedded in the walls. At its center sat an old man on a makeshift throne draped in dark emerald robes.
Etienne Du Vipere.
He was flanked by mutated brutes—creatures with scales, gnarled claws, and glowing red eyes. They all resembled dinosaurs.
"I've been awaiting you, Nova," Vipere said, his accented voice smooth and heavy with authority, like a king addressing a guest in his court.
Nova was not impressed.
"You've made a mess of this city," Nova said in French, stepping forward, his voice cold and unwavering. He'd learned the language so might as well use it. "And I'm here to clean it up."
"Such fire," Viper replied back in French as well with a soft smile. "You remind me of someone I once knew. Idealistic. Righteous. Young."
Nova didn't respond. He was already analyzing every inch of the room. Energy signatures flared around Viper's guards, each one a twisted fusion of man and beast. Failed creations, perhaps. Or loyal ones.
"You've done impressive work for someone so new to the world stage," Viper continued. "But you're meddling in matters far beyond your understanding. I am building something necessary. A future where those with power will guide humanity, not grovel to it."
"You're playing god with people's lives," Nova said. His hands crackled faintly, golden light glowing beneath his palms. "That ends tonight."
Viper stood slowly, the air in the room shifting.
"I could've offered you a place in this vision," he said. "But as I thought… you're too dangerous to be allowed to continue. And yet, maybe that's why you'll be perfect. Attack him."
Nova narrowed his eyes.