8 Reward! #8
Superman's red cape billowed in the wind as he brought down the final robotic invader. With swift precision, he launched the metallic assailant high into the sky, where it was encased within a formidable iron-maiden-like green energy construct.
The contraption carried the invader far into space, headed straight for the Justice League's watchtower, leaving the Man of Steel to survey the city below.
Metropolis lay in disarray, the aftermath of yet another destructive altercation. Superman's furrowed brow mirrored his deep concern as he beheld the devastation below. It wasn't the first time the city had endured such turmoil, and he knew it likely wouldn't be the last.
Nevertheless, this time, the heroes had managed to avert any tragic loss of life.
"Chin up, Clark," Hal Jordan remarked, a smile touching his lips as he offered a reassuring pat on Superman's broad shoulder. "Luthor will be all over this. He loves to flaunt his supposed goodwill, and as much as I hate to admit it, he'll have Metropolis looking as good as new in no time," Hal added, a light chuckle escaping him.
"Don't I know it," Superman responded, a faint smile breaking through his concerned expression. He knew all too well of Lex Luthor's inclination to exploit any chance to showcase his benevolence, often using his wealth and advanced technology to refurbish the city's damaged façade.
Superman shifted the conversation's focus to a more pressing matter, turning to Hal Jordan with a hint of concern etched across his features. "Do you have any clue about these entities? Any idea where they came from?" he queried in his composed demeanor.
Hal Jordan shook his head regretfully, his expression thoughtful. "No luck. Their signatures don't match any entries in the Guardian's database," he explained, a sense of uncertainty coloring his words. "If I had to wager, I'd say they're off-worlders. And I don't mean your typical extraterrestrial visitors..." His tone shifted, taking a more serious note.
Superman's brow furrowed in response. "What does the Green Lantern handbook say about dealing with these... off-worlders?" he asked, his expression concerned.
"Standard procedure, really," Hal replied with a shrug. "Attempt to negotiate if they're open to it. Detain them if things turn hostile," he explained matter-of-factly. "Treat them as you would any other criminal, I guess. But what matters most is figuring out what brought them here and ensuring it doesn't happen again," Hal added, emphasizing the critical nature of the situation.
"Sounds quite daunting," Superman mused with a slight wince. "This is beyond my expertise. Can I trust you to handle it?" he inquired with an apologetic tone, acknowledging his limitations in this unfamiliar territory.
"No sweat. Part of the job description," Hal reassured him with a confident nod. "I'll use the ring's scanners, sniff around, and dig up what I can. I'll get back to you with any leads," he promised, already activating his power ring, ready to delve into the investigation.
"Thanks again, Hal," Superman said with a grateful nod. "In the meantime, I'll see what scheme Livewire is trying to brew, or if she's really had a change of heart...."
The Man of Steel's expression was unreadable as he turned toward the army of robotic invaders, still under the electric villainess's control as they gathered inside the stadium at the center of the city.
....
I stood before the security console, glued to the live battle footage Livewire was facilitating. Her powers were a boon in monitoring the skirmish. I glanced at the electrical villainess, and she met my gaze with a knowing grin.
"Seems like things are winding down," she remarked, her attention shifting between me and the screens. "What's the next move?" she inquired, anticipation in her voice.
I nodded in acknowledgment. "Once the last of those invaders is contained, round them up the tin cans and have them gather in a football stadium," I instructed. Livewire arched an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the directive. "Superman and the heroes will want an explanation-- that's where we'll give them one," I clarified.
Livewire let out a chuckle at my plan. "Making the do-gooders come to us and showing them who's in charge, eh?" Her grin widened with excitement. "I'm on board with that," she agreed.
The blue glow of electric arcs danced around her as she channeled her commands to the controlled robotic invaders through the nearest power outlet.
"Good... now, give me a moment, will you? I need to clear my head," I requested. Livewire eyed me suspiciously for a beat before shrugging and striding toward the room's exit.
I watched Livewire leave the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. With a pocket knife in hand, I made my way over to the power outlet, aiming to cut the room's power and check the system without the risk of Livewire spying on me.
Now, let me be clear—I had no clue what I was doing. There was a high probability of getting zapped, but with the Storm Walker Shoes on, getting electrocuted wasn't a major concern.
If anything, I was counting on it to juice up the shoes. Two birds with one stone, or jolt in this case, amirite, fellas?
I pried open the outlet with the knife, which I picked up along the way for self-defense, wasting no time in hacking through the exposed wires. Lo and behold, the inevitable happened—I got a jolt of electricity that was probably strong enough to knock out an elephant.
Surprisingly, it wasn't particularly painful or uncomfortable. Sure, my hair stood on end, but otherwise, I felt nothing.
I won't bore you with the intricate details, but I went the whole nine yards—digging through the wall to track down those wires and snipping them until the room plunged into darkness. "That should do the trick," I muttered to myself, finally able to access the system's interface. Instantly, a notification popped up in front of me.
[Congratulations! You've completed the (Zap and Influence) quest with a stellar performance!]
I nodded in contentment and swiped the notification away, only to be greeted by another one.
[You've been rewarded with 195 points for completing the (Zap and Influence) quest.]
Notifications kept pouring in—one confirming the tutorial's completion, others updating the status of the Storm Walker Shoes' charge. But then, there came one that caught me off guard. It wasn't a notification per se; it felt more like a cheeky comment.
[Color me impressed, dear user. I didn't expect you to breeze through the tutorial so swiftly, all while steering clear of conflicts.]
Seeing this, I couldn't help but purse my lips in annoyance. "Oh great... you're back..." I muttered, referring to the snarky being—whatever or whoever it was—likely responsible for whisking me away from my comfy couch and landing me in this situation.
Unfazed by my annoyance, the cheeky being piped up.
[No need to be so cold, dear user. I'm here to say goodbye since this would mark the last conversation we'll ever have. Our interactions were only a result of the unfortunate circumstances that accompanied your transmigration]
I couldn't help but crack a grin at those words. "Good riddance," I quipped, feeling a surge of relief at the thought of parting ways with the impish entity.
But, of course, it didn't end there. The being chimed in yet again.
[What's more, I'm going to deliver you a special gift as a reward for your stellar performance and an apology for this entire situation. Hopefully, this will put your mind at ease, dear user]
My interest was piqued. "A gift? What kind of gift are we talking about here?" I asked curiosity tinged with a dash of greed at the prospect.
The reply came swiftly as if whispered by some DND devil.
[A very special gift, a companion called the Regent of the Swarm. It's an interdimensional creature that would usually set you back tens of thousands of points in the system shop. Hopefully, it will make your stay in this world more pleasant]
"An interdimensional being that costs tens of thousands of points?" I exclaimed, my excitement clearer than the sun. "If this companion thingy lives up to the hype, consider us even. Hand it over, and we'll call it all water under the bridge," I said, my impatience evident.
The being quickly responded with words materializing in the text box.
[Very well. A notification will soon arrive, finalizing the delivery of your reward. Farewell and good luck, dear user.]
Almost instantly, those words transformed into a notification prompt.
[You have been granted the (Regent of the Swarm) companion by administrator (Zaphod Beeblebrox). Would you like to accept the reward right now? Yes/No]"
"Zahphod what now...?" I muttered, not bothering to even try pronouncing the cheeky bastard's last name.
I didn't dwell on it as my excitement for the reward soon took over, and I turned my attention back to the notification. "Hell yeah, I want to accept the reward right now!"
...
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