Ezra Miller is not getting his 15 minutes of fame yet.
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Steppenwolf strode through the ruined remains of the Atlantean palace, his heavy boots echoing off the crumbled stone and coral. The once majestic structure had fallen, and its defenders had fled. His victory wasn't complete—Arthur Curry had managed to escape—but the prize was now within his grasp.
Amidst the debris, the object shimmered: a Motherbox, its surface pulsating with a faint red glow. Steppenwolf approached it, his fingers twitching in anticipation. The box hummed with an otherworldly energy, constantly shifting as if it were alive.
"Ah... such beauty," Steppenwolf murmured to himself, his voice dripping with dark admiration. He grasped the Motherbox, feeling its immense power radiate through his hands. This was the first step in bringing Earth to its knees.
He turned, watching the Parademons he had unleashed swarm through the city. They were few, meant more as a distraction than a full assault, but they would do their job. Any resistance Atlantis had left would be too busy dealing with the chaos. Steppenwolf activated his communicator.
"DeSaad, bring me back."
A familiar Boom Tube opened before him, the swirling red vortex pulling him through. In an instant, Steppenwolf was no longer under the sea but back on Apokolips, the grim and desolate homeworld of Darkseid.
As the Boom Tube closed, Steppenwolf knelt before a massive, shadowy figure—Darkseid himself. The presence of the New God filled the room with an oppressive weight as if even the very air bent to his will. DeSaad, standing at his lord's side, observed quietly, his face unreadable.
Darkseid's voice broke the silence, resonating with the cold authority of a god. "...I assume you come here to deposit it for safety, Steppenwolf?"
Steppenwolf bowed lower, his heart pounding. The risk of failure weighed heavily on him, and he knew the consequences could be fatal. "My Lord... this planet is far stronger than anticipated. I could only capture this one," Steppenwolf confessed, keeping his head down.
A tense silence followed, the weight of Steppenwolf's words hanging in the air like a guillotine. He could sense Darkseid's displeasure, though it remained unspoken for now.
DeSaad, always quick to offer explanations, attempted to speak. "My Lord, this planet has long been known for its strength—"
But before he could finish, Darkseid raised a hand, silencing him with a simple gesture. His glowing eyes narrowed in thought. Steppenwolf waited every moment for a test of his fate.
After a pause, Darkseid spoke again, his tone cold and calculated. "Bring Grayven here."
In an instant, another Boom Tube opened, and a tall, imposing figure stepped through. His skin was a deep shade of purple, and his armor gleamed black and gold, designed in a style reminiscent of Darkseid himself. This was Grayven, one of Darkseid's sons, and a fierce commander in his own right.
Grayven bowed, his movements fluid and precise. "Father," he said, his voice calm but edged with ambition.
Darkseid's gaze never wavered. "Follow Steppenwolf. Do not fail me."
Grayven nodded, understanding the gravity of his father's command. Steppenwolf relieved that Darkseid had sent one of his more competent children, rose to his feet. Grayven was far less volatile than his brothers—he wasn't like Kalibak, the fanatical brute, nor Orion, the rebellious one. Grayven was calculating, much like his father. This partnership could work.
The Next Target: S.T.A.R. Labs
Traveling back through a Boom Tube, Steppenwolf, and Grayven emerged atop a towering skyscraper overlooking the sprawling city below. The world they were now in was starkly different from Atlantis, but the mission remained the same.
Grayven took in the view, his golden eyes gleaming with intensity. He turned to Steppenwolf, his voice direct. "Where is the next Motherbox?"
Steppenwolf, now equipped with a scanner, pulled it out and began tracing the faint energy signature of the next Motherbox. His brow furrowed as he studied the readings. "Hmm... trace amounts of its energy are close," he said, adjusting the scanner's settings. "But... it seems to be in a strange state. Something's off. I can't pinpoint its exact location, but we'll find it."
He glanced over at Grayven, who was silent but watching carefully. The scanner flickered, and a location began to form on the screen. Steppenwolf's eyes narrowed. "There. It's somewhere inside a place called S.T.A.R. Labs."
Grayven's lips curled into a smirk. "Then let's not waste any time. We have a planet to conquer."
It was late at S.T.A.R. Labs, and Silas Stone was, as usual, working long past closing hours. The bright lights of his lab contrasted with the otherwise dark and silent facility. His focus never wavered from the monitor, though his mind was occupied with more than just the data.
"Hey! You staying overnight again, Silas?" called Larry, the janitor, his voice echoing as he pushed his cart toward the exit.
Silas glanced up, offering a tired smile. "Yep, Larry. My son comes home late tonight, so... more work for me."
Larry chuckled, shaking his head as he locked up the main entrance. "You're a machine, man." He waved and left, leaving Silas alone in the massive research lab.
The silence lingered, interrupted only by the hum of machines. Silas turned back to his computer. "...It's clear, Victor."
Metal footsteps echoed across the lab as a figure emerged from the shadows. Victor Stone, hidden beneath a black hoodie, stepped into the light. His face was obscured, but a faint red glow emanated from his chest, flickering through the fabric like a heartbeat. His once-human eyes had been replaced with a single, glowing mechanical one, scanning his surroundings, always alert.
"What is it now?" Victor asked, his voice cold, distant.
Silas tried to keep his tone light, but there was a tremor of guilt beneath it. "Don't be like that... it's just another routine test. Then we can go back to the apartment, okay?"
Victor stood there, arms crossed, saying nothing. He had long since stopped caring. There was no point. Nothing mattered anymore.
As Silas began running diagnostics, Victor's enhanced vision picked up something strange. His red eye scanned the lab, detecting a symbol flashing in a language he somehow understood but didn't remember learning. The translation appeared in his vision: "Ally Detected, Revealing Location."
Victor's brow furrowed in confusion. Ally? he thought. Who's supposed to be my ally? He was about to mention it to his father, but the tension between them was too thick, too raw.
"Dad, I—" Victor began, his mechanical voice layered with a hint of urgency.
"Relax, Victor." Silas cut him off, his eyes glued to his work. "Just a bit more, and then I'll be ready to listen."
Victor's eyes narrowed as his father's dismissiveness hit him like a familiar punch to the gut. It was always like this. His father had never cared about anything other than his work—not about Victor, not about Elinore, his wife, not even when Victor achieved things that once mattered: his scholarship, his football career, his awards.
All of that fell to the background. His father never showed up, even at the worst moments.
The night it happened played in Victor's mind like a recurring nightmare. September 13th—a Friday. His mother, Elinore, had died of cancer, and they had buried her that same day. Every year since Victor visited her grave. He always went, every year, to mourn her. His father never did.
That night, Victor had gone to the lab after the funeral, tears still streaming down his face. His father wasn't there. They fought—shouted and threw words at each other like weapons—and in a fit of rage, Victor had tried to destroy the experiment that consumed his father's life: the Motherbox. It reacted violently, and in the chaos, nearly killed Victor.
In a desperate, reckless attempt to save his son, Silas fused the Motherbox to Victor's body.
That was the day Victor Stone died. And the monster called Cyborg was born.
As Victor stood there, silent and angry, a message pinged in his internal systems: "This is Batman. Run."
Victor's eyes widened. It was coming through a line he had once tried to hack into Wayne Manor with, just out of curiosity. He had wanted to understand the vigilante, maybe even learn from him. But now, that line was active. It had connected to him.
How did he... Victor's mind raced. Batman could access his systems? No one could break into his systems. No one.
"Dad—" Victor started, urgency building in his voice.
"Not now, Victor," Silas said again, his focus locked on the readings in front of him.
"Dad!" Victor's voice rose, frustration boiling over. For once, listen to me!
"Victor, I said not now!" Silas snapped, his tone sharp, ignoring the fear in his son's voice.
Victor's hands clenched into fists, the mechanical parts in his arms whirring with tension. The same pattern. The same neglect. Even after everything, Silas hadn't changed.
Just as Victor opened his mouth to shout back, the wall exploded.
The room was filled with dust and rubble as the sound of destruction roared through the lab. Stepping through the debris was Grayven, Darkseid's son, floating effortlessly over the wreckage. His eyes glinted with malicious amusement as he surveyed the scene.
He let out a low whistle when he saw Victor. "Well, what do we have here?" he said with a smirk, pointing at the glowing Motherbox fused into Victor's chest. "Seems like the Motherbox found itself a new home."
Behind Grayven, Steppenwolf entered, dragging a body behind him. Larry the Janitor's lifeless form hung from his axe, blood dripping onto the shattered floor.
Steppenwolf grinned at the sight of Silas and Victor. "Sorry for the mess. But... I need him." He pointed at Victor, his voice cold and final.
Victor's mind raced, red lights flashing in his vision, warning him of the danger. His eyes flickered between Steppenwolf and Grayven, two imposing figures of immense power.
"Dad! We need to leave! Now!" Victor yelled, but before Silas could process what was happening, Steppenwolf shook Larry's corpse off his axe and advanced, his eyes gleaming with cruel intent.
Everything in Victor's life, all the frustration, all the anger, the loss—it was boiling over. And now, they were coming for him. For the Motherbox inside him.
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[Auther: I kinda wanna post an MHA chapter now...is that weird?