A classified Arctic outpost—an installation that technically 'does not exist.'
"Those humans would never expect us to establish a forward base here."
Inside the sealed-off Fortress of Solitude, now under General Zod's flagship, Steppenwolf idly toyed with a piece of Kryptonian technology, a cold smirk appearing on his face.
He wasn't particularly familiar with Kryptonian technology, but that didn't stop him from invading and taking control of everything here. After all, with no Kryptonians left, these machines couldn't stop him.
When Steppenwolf first arrived on Earth, he used Apokoliptian technology to scan the planet's entire magnetic field. First, this helped him locate the Mother Boxes more efficiently.
Second, he wanted to determine if Earth's civilization had anything out of the ordinary—anything that might pose a threat to him.
With Apokoliptian technology at his disposal, Earth was like an open book, defenseless against his scans. No technology could block him. Everything was laid bare before him, free for his scrutiny.
On Earth, Steppenwolf discovered three particularly interesting anomalies—objects that did not originate from this world. One of them was the Kryptonian fleet stationed in the Arctic.
The other two? One was in Kahndaq, a land rich in metal ores infused with unusual energy. The other was an ancient artifact—the Scarab.
Apokolips had records of this Scarab. It was a weapon developed by the Reach, designed for conquest. It had the ability to bond with living hosts and manipulate their minds.
But just as Apokolips had never considered the Reach a true threat, Steppenwolf didn't see the Scarab as anything more than a minor nuisance.
To him, it was nothing more than a stray bug—something he could crush at any time. Once the Unity was complete, nothing on Earth would matter anymore.
Setting aside the Scarab, that left three viable locations for a forward base—Kahndaq, the Kryptonian derelicts, and an abandoned human nuclear power plant.
Kahndaq wasn't a good choice. Though it was vast and sparsely populated, it was still human territory. Marching in too boldly would reveal his presence—something that directly contradicted his plans.
Originally, Steppenwolf had considered the abandoned nuclear power plant. It was saturated with radiation, making it completely uninhabitable for humans. But for him, it posed no threat at all.
Not just for him—his Parademons, as bioengineered war creatures, were also immune to radiation. It would have been the perfect location to mass-produce his forces. But then, the Kryptonian fleet came into view.
These ships had been brought to Earth when General Zod attempted his invasion. After Alex, Batman, Supergirl, The Flash, and Quicksilver ended that war, the ships had been left behind.
As war spoils, Congress and the Senate were eager to get their hands on the alien technology, dissecting it to gain access to its advanced weaponry and systems.
But Batman had opposed the idea. He knew exactly what kind of catastrophe would unfold if this technology fell into the wrong hands.
So while negotiating with Congress on the surface, he secretly collaborated with The Flash and Doctor Fate to move the entire fleet to the Arctic—an area humans would never find easily, and the safest possible location for the technology.
Of course, before they could finish their work, some Kryptonian tech had already leaked onto the black market. The international syndicates had acquired some, and the military had also stolen a few pieces.
But thankfully, they had acted quickly enough to secure the most advanced and crucial components, keeping them out of the hands of those who would misuse them.
After old Bruce Wayne had stored the fleet in the Arctic, he named the site the Fortress of Solitude—the last remnant of Kryptonian civilization in the universe.
"Krypton... Now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time," Steppenwolf sneered. "I never expected to find traces of those fools on such a backwater planet."
He let out a low chuckle and reached into his armor, pulling out a small, metallic insect—a construct imbued with Apokoliptian technology.
Gently placing the metallic insect on the control console, he watched as it came to life. The creature scuttled rapidly to the main controls, its metal limbs clicking against the surface.
A moment later, it extended its sharp claws and drove them into the Kryptonian ship's command interface. Its single, glowing red eye pulsed ominously.
The ship trembled.
The ice surrounding the derelict began to crack and fall away. From deep within, dark, viscous tendrils began seeping out, spreading like a virus. They slithered across the hull, corrupting the Kryptonian technology—twisting and consuming it.
Steppenwolf's grin widened.
And then—
"Steppen... wolf..."
A voice echoed through the fortress.
It was a sound like air hissing through broken bellows, a whisper like the Reaper's breath. It sent a chill crawling down the spine.
Hearing it, Steppenwolf stiffened. A realization struck him, and without hesitation, he abandoned his work, turning swiftly toward the command center.
He moved quickly through the Kryptonian flagship, arriving at the central hall.
The vast, pitch-black chamber housed a towering, monolithic structure—an immense black metal obelisk.
At its base, three recesses were carved into the stone. Two of them now held Mother Boxes, their eerie lights flickering as strange energy spiraled outward, unsettling and oppressive.
"DeSaad... Is that you calling me?"
Steppenwolf slowed his pace, his expression complex. He lifted his gaze to the top of the monolith.
A shift.
The monolith, once solid, rippled like liquid metal.
It boiled.
It melted, like lava breaking through the crust, revealing a half-formed figure cloaked in robes.
"Steppenwolf. How far along is your plan?"
DeSaad's apparition moved slightly, embers dripping from its form. From its lofty position, it looked down upon Steppenwolf and spoke with slow, deliberate weight.
"You have not reported to me in quite some time. I hope you understand your position. I do not need to remind you—you are still in the process of redeeming yourself."
"Of course, of course!" Steppenwolf took two eager steps forward, his tone filled with reverence. "DeSaad, tell Him—I remain faithful. I will do whatever He commands."
"Spare me the words. I want results. Tell me, Steppenwolf—" DeSaad leaned in, its hollow eyes glinting. "What of the Mother Boxes?"
"I have already found two Mother Boxes. The last one is still in human hands. These primitive beings are no match for us—though there are a few troublesome individuals among them," Steppenwolf said seriously.
"I don't want excuses. And I am certain He does not want to hear them either. What matters is the result. You know the importance of the Mother Boxes. Retrieve the last one as soon as possible. This is your final chance—His mercy is not limitless."
Hearing this, Steppenwolf's clenched fist trembled slightly. Then, he dropped to one knee.
"I will not disappoint Him. I have already established a fortress in His name—built from the remains of a Kryptonian warship. It still holds traces of Kryptonian life technology, along with the remains of Kryptonians themselves.
I believe that with the knowledge He has granted me, I can rewrite this structure, creating a destroyer worthy of the throne—one that will aid Him in conquering more worlds."
"Kryptonian technology."
Hearing those words, DeSaad's expression changed slightly, as if recalling some unpleasant memories. However, he quickly regained his composure and continued speaking.
"Well done. This technology is useful, but do not lose sight of your primary task. I shouldn't have to remind you—your time is running out."
"Please, DeSaad," Steppenwolf dropped to both knees. "I beg you—speak to Him on my behalf. If I conquer this world in His name, let Him grant me forgiveness for my past sins."
"Hmph."
DeSaad let out a cold snort, his face unreadable.
He looked down at the kneeling Steppenwolf before simply flicking his sleeve.
"Deal with the matter at hand first. Do not forget—one Mother Box is still missing."
With those final words, DeSaad's image vanished, leaving Steppenwolf alone, still kneeling. He stared blankly at the black stone monolith, which had returned to its original state, unable to recover from the moment.
---------------------------------
Meanwhile.
Gotham City. Deep within the Batcave beneath Wayne Manor.
The urgent ringing of an alarm suddenly jolted old Bruce Wayne awake.
He rubbed his face vigorously and focused on the computer screen in front of him. At some point, the tracking progress bar had disappeared—replaced by a flashing marker indicating a specific location.
Bruce squinted, staring at the marked location. When he saw where it was—
The Arctic.
His eyes widened in shock.
In an instant, his drowsiness vanished, replaced by a cold sweat covering his back.
No one knew better than him what was in the Arctic.
Since the site had been secured and sealed away, Bruce had never returned to the Fortress of Solitude. He knew those remnants did not belong to Earth—nor did they belong to him. That fortress had been built for Kara.
Although Kara had left with Alex to explore other worlds, to see more of what the universe had to offer, Bruce had always believed—
One day, Kara would return.
And when that day came, the Fortress of Solitude would be waiting for her—her home.
Just like how she had been born into this universe. No matter how some humans had betrayed her, no matter what had been done to her, there was one undeniable truth—
This place was her home.
But now—staring at the flashing alert on his screen, displaying a "Match Accuracy: 87%"—
Bruce felt his heart pounding faster. He gritted his teeth, his expression growing increasingly complicated.
"Damn it…"
.....
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