Mount Justice
November 25, 10:25 EST
"Gobble gobble," Wally grinned, popping another cranberry into his mouth. "I love Thanksgiving—ow!"
Wally rubbed his hand where M'gann telepathically slapped him with a wooden spoon. She giggled, "Those are for dinner, Wally."
"Yeah, Wally," Cyra said, her mouth full of whip cream she had licked off the pumpkin pie. "It's so rude not to wait for dinner."
"Cyra!" M'gann shouted, whipping her with a dish towel and the Green Lantern managed to dodge the murderous Martian. "No one else can eat the pumpkin pie with your tongue all over it!"
"That's the idea," Cyra said victoriously, her hands on her hips in a superhero pose.
"I would," Wally volunteered.
"You'd lick the gravy out of Robin's mouth and like it, so you're opinion is invalid."
Wally coughed up a cranberry, bracing the table to leap over and tackle the blonde to the ground if it wasn't for M'gann's palm stopping him in his place.
"No fighting on holidays!" she barked.
"Technically, Thanksgiving is only a holiday in America and considering I'm one-eighth French, that rule doesn't apply to me."
Wally's jaw fell open as he tilted his head as he stared at Cyra, bewildered. "I thought you were failing history!"
Cyra tapped her nose. "I'm a modern-day genius, I know."
Wally scoffed.
Zatanna sprinkled some spice onto the turkey, muttered a few words, and clapped her hands together. "There, seasoned to perfection."
M'gann lifted the turkey with her mind and slid it into the oven while talking over her shoulder. "Wally, I thought you were eating with your family."
"Oh, yeah," Wally realized. He swiftly shoveled more cranberries into his mouth and jumped up from his seat. "Dad will kill me if I'm late. See ya!"
And with that, the speedster ran out of the room in a ginger blur, causing Cyra's hair to blow up into her face and she pulled a face.
"Wally!" M'gann chastised, but the speedster was long gone.
Zatanna, who was staring intently at a bowl of tossed sadly, started to let out small sniffles.
"What's wrong?" Cyra asked.
"It's nothing," Zatanna shook them off. "It's the unions. These are all the things I used to cook for—" Zatanna paused. "This is the first Thanksgiving without my dad."
Cyra and M'gann both embraced the magician, Cyra squeezing them all tightly. "No worries, Z," she grinned as they groaned, practically being lifted off the ground. "We'll have our own little special Thanksgiving right here."
They pulled away from each other. M'gann glanced at Cyra suspiciously. "You're staying for dinner? I thought you'd be having dinner at home."
Cyra patted her stomach smugly and let out a burp. "Already did. There's a lot of us so we start our dinner at lunch. I finished earlier so I could have a second one here."
"You're not full?" Zatanna wondered.
"Of course not."
The two girls shook their heads at their blonde friend's iron stomach. What a Cyra thing to say.
"Conner?" M'gann asked abruptly. The clone was beginning to walk towards the door, Wolf trailing at his heels.
Conner froze. "Figured you wouldn't want my help in the kitchen. Remember last time?"
"Uh, yeah, but—"
"Just walking Wolf, no biggie."
M'gann shared a look with Cyra as Conner disappeared towards the garage.
"Cyra, would you mind going with him?" M'gann whispered, hoping Conner's super hearing wouldn't pick it up. "He usually likes to watch me cook and I'm worried."
"And we want you out of the way," Zatanna smirked. "You eat the food faster than we can cook it."
Cyra gasped. "I don't know if I should be honored or insulted."
"Insulted."
Cyra threw a roll at Zatanna's head and it bounced off with the raven-haired girl's laughter. "Rude, I'm happy to leave. Superboy would treat me better than this."
Cyra pouted, spinning on her heels and matching after Conner with her hands crossed over her chest. She managed to catch up to him in the garage as he was preparing Sphere for lift off.
"This doesn't look like taking Wolf for a walk. Where you going?" she asked, sliding in front of the robot that had just transformed into a large motorcycle, successfully blocking Conner's escape.
"Cyra, get out of the way," Conner said gruffly, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache.
Cyra frowned. "What's wrong with your head?"
Conner stared down at her analytically, his blue eyes scanning her stubborn posture and arched brow. He let out a small groan of defeat and Cyra smirked.
"Alright, you're going to think I'm crazy."
Cyra snorted. "Doubtful. You may not be the sharpest fork in the drawer, but your not Joker-level psycho yet."
"You mean . . . knife," Conner corrected slowly.
"No, fork. Forks have four knives—therefore they're sharper."
"Fine, whatever." Conner took in a deep breath before saying, "I heard a voice telling me to go to Washington, D.C."
Cyra bit her lip. "I take it back, you are crazy. How often do you hear voices when there's no one around?"
"This is the first time!" Conner shouted, causing Cyra to wince as the volume. Conner instantly went quiet. "Sorry, but this is real, I know it is. And I think . . . I think the voice can tell me about why I was created."
"I can tell you why you were created. Superman is a pretty strong guy—not as strong as me, of course—and they wanted another one, so they made you. Then, you came out short, but ignore that part."
"Are you going to move out of the way or not?" Conner demanded, his eyebrows arched together angrily.
"I'll do you one better!" Cyra levitated herself upwards and stepped onto the head of the motorcycle. "I'm going to home with you. If anyone can help you through your young-life-crisis, it's 'ol Cyra Brion! Now scootch over, I'm too tired to fly right now."
Conner grumbled as he moved forward for Cyra to sit in the seat behind him. Wolf growled, but hesitantly moved room and Cyra found herself with a fluffy spot to lean back into.
"You still think I'm insane, don't you?" Conner pursed his lips.
"Of course not!" Cyra exclaimed, but it sounded fake in her own ears. "I'm also going along to make sure you don't follow these voices of yours off a cliff or something—courtesy of M'gann."
Conner shook his head as Sphere roared to life underneath them, shooting forward underneath the gap in the garage door and up into the sky.
"She doesn't trust me?" Conner demanded.
"Dude, you just told me you were hearing voices, do you blame her? Now shut up. I'm going to sleep off my early dinner. Wake me up when we get to Wisconsin."
"Washington," Conner corrected.
"Same difference. It would help me fall asleep if you could sing me a lullaby."
"I can't wait till you fall asleep because at least then you'd be quiet."
Cyra chuckled as she tucked her arms underneath her head and closed her eyes with a soft smile. "Jokes on you, I talk in my sleep."
"Of course you do."
The Watchtower
November 25, 10:25 EST
"Seriously? The Atom?" Captain Marvel asked as a holograph appeared of the short superhero. "How useful could he be at that size?"
The League sat around the oval table, all wearing stout expressions on having to pick Earth's next great heroes. They already went through Icon, Rocket, and a few other no-names that had popped up over the planet sporting odd, new powers.
"It's the size that makes him useful," Batman said stiffly.
"Absolutely!" the Flash agreed. "But we could still use some more raw power and Earth has another Lantern—" Flash tapped on his tablet in front of him and a ginger bulky man appeared in place of the Atom. "—Guy Gardner."
"No!" Hal Jordan and John Stewart yelled together, almost jumping up from the table.
"But we could really—"
"No."
The Flash pulled up his shoulders in his seat, making himself smaller with a pout.
"If you want a powerhouse—" John Stewart said as he tapped on his tablet. Upon the holograph, a familiar shape of a certain blonde-haired, amber-eyed, smirking Green Lantern came onto view. "—consider Cyra Brion."
Hal slammed his fists on the table. "Hear, hear, she has my vote!"
"Keep it to yourself, Green Lantern," Batman ordered, but he didn't speak on Cyra—nor against her.
"Has she become a full Green Lantern yet?" Wonder Woman asked, her slim brows drawn together questionably.
"Well . . . no," John admitted. "But she's one of the most powerful Green Lantern's in a century and last I was aware she passed her last test. She will be soon."
Hal nodded. "She's ready. Once she unlocks all the power of a ring, she'll be one of the strongest beings on the planet."
The table was silent for a moment.
"But she's so young," Superman said.
"All the new heroes are young," Hal defended.
"I agree. I prefer not to send children into battle," Wonder Woman nodded. Superman nodded in agreement.
Captain Marvel sank down in his seat.
"Trust me, Cyra is no child," John said. "She has faced things that no regular teenager ever could."
"I understand, but most teenagers don't have cosmic power rings," Wonder Wonder argued back hotly. "Just because she is slightly more mature than a teenager doesn't make her League material."
Black Canary, who knew Cyra and her maturity very well, bit her lip tightly.
"The Guardians thought she was worthy. Are you saying you know more than the Guardians of the frickin' Universe?" Hal demanded.
"Enough!" Batman said evenly. "Green Lantern, settle down."
Hal leaned back into his seat with his arms crossed like a pouting pre-schooler.
"You did say you wanted more women," Hawkwoman shrugged. "I have yet to see her in battle. Black Canary, you've trained her, what do you think?"
Black Canary sighed. "Cyra is . . . a difficult case, but she is powerful. She has about as much skill in hand-to-hand as an infant and her grade point average is in the negatives—not to mention her mental stability revolves around cheap one-liners and witty jokes—but she has a good heart. What she lacks in skill she makes up for in creativity—she manages just fine."
"We need someone who can do more than just manage things. We need heroes," Wonder Woman said.
"Cyra is a hero," Hal's cutting tone turning the airtight and everyone fell completely silent. "She saved all of Oa and proved the Guardians—the most powerful beings ever—after they called her a failure and kicked her out. Try not to make that same mistake."
Washington, D.C.
November 25, 11:28 EST
"Psst, Cyra, wake up," Conner shook the mumbling Green Lantern awake. Cyra lazily blinked open her eyes and grinned at him.
"Hey, comrade, what's up?" Cyra greeted. She looked around them and they were in some park underneath a stone structure that covered them from the rain that was falling from hazy clouds. "This place looks depressing."
"Shut up, they're here," Conner ordered as a white limousine pulled up.
"Gee, your fairy godmother is rich."
A young brunette lady got out of the driver's seat of the car and walked around to their side, opening the door and out stepped a tall bald man that screamed money with his expensive brown suit and crimson tie.
"Now do you think I'm crazy?" Superboy snapped.
"Yes—" Cyra's mouth fell open in realization as her amber eyes widened comically. Conner jumped down from his motorcycle, despite Cyra reaching for his arm as she hissed, "Bad guy alert!"
Conner looked back at her in ignorance before turning back to the one and only—
"Superboy," the man held out his hand. "I'm Lex Luthor. I'm the new chairman for the board at Project Cadmus. I thought I told you to come alone." Luthor's eyes glanced to the blonde girl, who was luckily still in her civvies.
Wolf growled. Cyra agreed with Wolf.
"I know who you are Luthor and she's my backup in case anything goes wrong." Superboy crossed his arms. Looks like he wasn't as socially dumb as Cyra had previously thought. "And I want nothing to do with you—or Cadmus."
Superboy turned to walk back to Cyra, who was silently cheering him on with two thumbs up when Luthor's next words froze him in place.
"Cadmus has created a new superclone."
Superboy's eyes slowly rose up to meet Cyra's. The blonde was shaking her head repeatedly, but she recognizes the look in the hero's eyes and let out a groan, her head falling forward on Sphere.
"Guardian, fast work on the rebuild," Superboy observed, looking up at the newly constructed Cadmus building. Several guns were leveled on them.
Cyra was lounging on the motorcycle, green aviators seated upon her head and she was back in her Green Lantern uniform. There was a dissatisfied frown twisting her face. "I liked the old building better," Cyra said.
"I liked it better destroyed," Superboy looked pointedly at the camera that was zoomed in on them. "Now escort us down the easy way—"
Cyra wiggled her fingers and sent Guardian, who was no doubt watching from inside, a sickly sweet smile and finished, "Or we escort ourselves down the hard way."
There was barely a second of hesitation before a guard pressed his hand to his ear and nodded them through. They were surrounded by Cadmus's personal army down the halls, but Superboy already seemed to know where to go despite each plush red wall looking just like the last.
He threw open the doors dramatically with his entrance into the main lab where Guard, the dark-skinned scientist from before, and an old alien with a weird head stood.
"The new superclone—where are you holding it?" Superboy demanded.
"I'll give you points for the dramatic entrance, but you're getting marked down for not doing a witty line when we came in," Cyra shook her head and mimed writing on a clipboard.
Superboy glared at her as he stalked up to Guardian's desk.
"Welcome home, Superboy," the golden helmet-wearing Guardian said. He nodded to the blonde over the young Kryptonian shoulders. "Nice to see you again Green Lantern."
"Hello!" Cyra waved.
"Now, what are you talking about?" Guardian asked Superboy with what Cyra saw as genuine confusion. Maybe he thought Superboy was going nutzo too.
"Brother," said the blue-skinned, horned creature as he placed a gentle hand on Superboy's arm. "You are the only superclone in Cadmus."
"All cloning projects, human and Kryptonian, have been shut down since your escape," the lady scientist confirmed.
"That's exactly what an evil scientist would say," Cyra snapped her finger and gave the woman a finger gun.
"Since my liberation," Superboy corrected, ignoring his lovable companion.
"As you say," the scientist cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, I'm needed back in my lab."
She turned and clicked on her heels as fast as she could out of there.
Guardian took off his helmet and groaned, running his fingers through his hair. Cyra's eyes widened, not only on how similar he looked to a certain jerk-faced archer but that he was pretty hot.
"Hm, sometimes I hate this job," Guardian sighed.
"You-you look a lot like Red Arrow," Superboy pointed out.
"Superboy, stop flirting with the enemy," Cyra ordered.
"That's not all surprisingly seeing Red Arrow is my nephew." Guardian chuckled, "Trust me, I'm not the enemy. I'll prove it by showing you around the new facility."
"Here's the four-one-one," Guardian said as the elevator landed on a lower floor. The door slid open to reveal a nice shiny and silver lab which genomorphs jumping around the tables and scientists working on green-screened computers and peeking into microscopes. "This is the new and improved Cadmus!"
Guardian walked up through. The scientist from earlier was there, writing something down on paper. She looked at the Green Lantern with pursed lips when she walked by.
"Dr. Spence and her team are doing truly worthwhile genetic medical research now. The genomorphs are becoming more educated, more independent. Some even have names. Hey, Benny," Guardian addressed to a large gray genomorph that was scrubbing dishes in a sink. The creature growled back with a wave of a pincher-like hand.
Cyra almost tripped over a little genomorph sweeping the floor where she wasn't looking. She recovered quickly, trying to walk on as if nothing had happened but the glitter in Superboy's eyes told her that it did not go unseen. She glared at him warningly.
"Someday, the work here will save millions of lives," Guardian said.
Superboy stopped walking forward, looking back at all the genomorphs working. His facial features changed as if he was having a conversation with one of the voices he was talking about and Cyra had begun to question while it was better to take him back here or if it will flush him further down the rabbit hole.
Cyra tapped on Guardian's shoulder and whispered to him questionably, "Hey, when you had Superboy in the think-tank, what did his brain look like? Like, was it messed up?"
"What?" Guardian almost laughed. "Of course not! Superboy's mind was genetically engineered to be perfect. Unless he got a serious head injury, he should be fine, why?"
Cyra thought back to that one time she threw a rubber duck at Connor's head when he wouldn't give her the remote and wondered if that counted as serious head damage. "No reason," she shook her head.
"Guardian, would a superclone exist without you knowing?" Superboy asked.
"It's highly unlikely."
"If it exists, I'm freeing it, just like when Aqualad, Robin, Kid Flash, and Green Lantern freed me," Superboy said with cold determination, clenching his fist.
Cyra and Guardian exchanged a look. It didn't seem like Superboy was talking to them. Guardian seemed to subtly realize what Cyra had been referring to with her question.
Guardian leaned down and whispered to her, "Maybe we can get him into a pod to do a brain scan later?"
"He hates pods. He'd never get in one voluntarily. Good thing you have me to force him in," Cyra agreed.
"I can hear you both!" Superboy snapped, glaring strongly at them.
Cyra grinned sheepishly, having completely forgotten about the boy's super hearing.
"Look," Guardian said, inching out of the way. "I have my own missing genomorphs to locate, but you've got the run of the place. I just doubt you'll find what you're looking for." Guardian paused. "And . . . don't break anything."
"Dude, we can go explore anything and you want to come back down to the same lame pod you were trapped in most of your life? That's whack. We could be checking out the genomorph spa!" Cyra whined as she followed Superboy into the cavern-like underground of the Cadmus building where they had once held the clone.
The walls were red and trailed onto the floor like veins with one large, shiny pod in the middle with the cryptic symbol Kr painted on the glass—Kryptonite.
Superboy ignored her, walking up to the pod and staring at his own reflection. Cyra rolled her eyes and began snooping around the cords, completely alright with the idea of her destroying something. Wolf sniffed at the walls, scratching them, before turning to Superboy and growling.
"See, Wolf wants to leave and have some fun too, don't you Wolf?"
The mutated animal bared his teeth as Cyra, and the blonde grimaced.
"So, how are you and M'gann doing?" Cyra asked, running her fingers along the old pod's walls. "Honeymooning?"
"How's Wally doing?" Superboy asked vaguely.
Cyra's face washed over blankly. "Touchy."
Superboy held his ear up to where Wolf was sniffing, his eyes narrowing in concentration. He pulled away. "I hear something on the other side of this wall."
Cyra watched as Superboy ripped down the grotesque wallpaper, revealing a round metal disk in the wall with a single green dot in the middle like some kind of entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
"Jackpot!" Cyra cheered.
Superboy stabbed his fingers into the thin seal and attempted to tear it apart. His muscles bulged, but he could only get it an inch open. The veins in his neck pulsed and Cyra quickly flourished her ring.
Two large hands wiggled through the seam and tore the door open, crushing the sides like aluminum cans against the walls, leaving a wide-open crack to enter through.
"I hope you didn't plan on going in and out stealthily," Cyra said when Superboy looked back at her.
"Stealthy has never been my thing." Superboy took a step into the room and Cyra followed behind him.
Cyra winked. "Just my style. We should really team-up more often. Missions would get done much faster."
Frost crept up the walls and Cyra's breath turned visible in the air. Her suit kept her natural body temperature warm, but that didn't stop a rosy color from blossoming over her pale cheeks. Their hands clenched over the railing to a small balcony that overlooked what was held in the room. Superboy gasped.
What looked to be hundreds of pods laid scattered around the abyss of the room. They were all an icy blue color, frozen over, but Cyra could just make out the shapes of legs, arms, heads, small humanoid creatures, and an abundance of other things she tried not to think about.
"I wish you were crazy," Cyra said lightly.
Superboy leaped off the balcony powerfully, Wolf following him. Cyra flew after them, her feet hitting the ground in a walk as she had to practically jog to keep up with the clone, whose eyes were narrowed in steely determination.
Then, in the center of the room, surrounded by barracks of other organisms, was one large power cell that looked like it could hold three Superboys and one-and-a-half Robins. Cyra swallowed uneasily, remembering how her first meeting with Superboy ended up with a splitting headache and herself strapped into a pod.
"If I die," Cyra growled warningly, "I will come back and kill you."
"I'll make sure to keep that in mind," Superboy said dryly as he walked up to the pod and wiped his hand across the foggy glass.
Cyra blinked, at first thought, it was a reflection, but this Superboy had his eyes closed in peaceful slumber and was wearing a tight white suit.
"They're not very original with their clones. Next time they should try a blonde."
Superboy wiped away some more frost. The other clone was wearing a goofy red S across his chest that was a slightly lumpier version of the one Superboy had.
"This is officially getting creepy. We found the clone, can we go now? We'll report it to Guardian." Cyra looked around crossly. "He probably doesn't know about this place. It doesn't look like it's been opened in a while."
"Probably doesn't cut it," Superboy growled as he matched over to a little keypad and pressed a button that echoed across the room like a doomful beep. The frost started to recede from the pod with the sound of air being pumped through.
"What are you doing?" Cyra shouted, taking a wary step back. "Whose to know that thing won't try to eat us or something?"
"Did I try to eat you when I got out?" Superboy demanded.
"No, actually, you tried to kill us if you don't remember," Cyra snapped. "What if they already got to his mind and he goes total Ted Bundy?"
"What if he's been imprisoned wrongly just like me and wants to be freed?" Superboy snapped back. "We can't let him rot there."
"On the contrary, he looked very peaceful when we found him."
Superboy looked at Cyra, his blue eyes abnormally wide and Cyra got a sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Don't give me the puppy-dog eyes," she groaned, stomping her foot. "This isn't fair."
"You're a good person, Cyra. You might not have the most solid of mindsets, but you know its not good to keep him locked up."
Cyra looked up from where she was rubbing her hands against her eyes incredulously. "Did you just call me mentally unstable?"
The door of the pod slid upwards and Cyra crossed her arms with an angry pout twisting her lips. She was not at all okay with this, but when the thought of having another powerhouse like Superboy on the Team made it better. Then there was the stupid thing about her having a conscience and she knew she'd had been locked up in that suffocating pod all day—asleep or not.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Cyra admitted. Her eyes widened as the clone's fingers twitched, stretching and clenching experimentally.
"I have a good feeling," Superboy said proudly. Cyra's lips frowned in discontentment.
Then, the clone's eyes snapped open and focused on Superboy intently. Cyra's turning pit in her stomach turned into a ravage cage match between a potato and earlier's turkey as she saw that his eyes were blue like Superboy's, but the space around them an eerie black.
"It's okay," Superboy smiled as softly as Cyra had ever seen him. "You're free now."
Cyra didn't have the heart at the moment that she doubted it would be in any way okay and her theory was proven correct when the clone's eyes narrowed in on the insignia on Superboy's chest. Superboy too sensed the mood change and took a step back, but it was too late, with a battle cry, the clone lunged at Superboy.
Good thing the trusty Green Lantern was there, already prepared as she swung up her arms and a long hammer rammed into Bad Superboy's jaw.
The clone went flying into some other pods, shattering them and causing water to seep all over the floor. He shook it off. His eyes scanned right over Cyra as if she hadn't just wrecked his face with a sledgehammer, instead of letting out another cry and diving at Superboy, knocking her friend to the ground.
Superboy kicked the clone off, which caused more glass to fly into the air. Cyra threw out her arms, shielding herself and Wolf with a green shield before it popped. When she looked back up, the clone had Superboy by the color of his rumbled shirt against a pod.
"Stop!" Superboy put his hands up. "I'm on your side!"
"Doesn't look like he's on ours!" Cyra shouted as green streams wrapped around her arms, giving her the strength to lift a pod's broken base out of the ground and flying it abruptly at the clone, letting go.
The clone went bouncing on the ground, gripping onto Superboy tightly and taking him with him. They went rolling on the ground before the clone launched Superboy right through the entrance they came in through, nicking the wall—a new crack appearing—and Superboy went sliding into the other room.
Wolf growled and raced at the clone, but he easily grabbed the wolf's jaw shut before he could sink his long teeth around his head and threw him after his owner. Superboy had just looked up in time to catch the mutant wolf before Wolf collided with him.
The clone began to fly up in the air. Cyra got over her shock quickly at Superboy two-point-zero and swerved into the air in front of him, cutting him off. The clone titled his head questionably and his face momentarily lost its anger. A warm ball of victory grew inside of her. He must be solely after Superboy and anyone who helps, but Cyra was just standing in the way—maybe the clone would just ignore her? That would give Cyra some advantage.
Maybe it was the smirk Cyra let slip onto her face that set him off, but the next thing she knew, sparkles blew up in Cyra's eyes as her cheek ached. She went flying back into some pods, managing a quick shield to stop the glass from impaling her back before she hit the ground with a grunt, sliding across it. Spots danced in her eyes as the clone flew through the gap in the wall.
"I told you so," Cyra groaned groggily to empty air as she struggled to her feet.
She got up, her feet slipping and sending her right back onto the ground. Her arms were numb and her head felt far away as if she was looking through a television screen. Clenching her jaw, she pushed herself up nonetheless, a green crutch helping her forward and it made her feel like an old lady with eighty cats and no friends.
Cyra heard Superboy's cries of pain as large slams echoed through the cavern. This ironed her resolve as green energy shimmered along her suit, crackling with energy as the crutch disintegrated, she wobbled up into the air. She shook her head before shooting forward into the secondary cave.
The clone had Superboy in a crater on the ground. The look-alike had his shirt destroyed and a new backward S burned into his chest. A tingle of pity built in Cyra's chest. A whimper alerted her to Wolf, who laid limp on the ground, breathing heavily and any pity or mercy instantly washed away.
Cyra's hand twisted as if she was turning in a lightbulb and green vines snaked up from the ground. They locked around Superboy as a cocoon and Cyra winced at the thought of having to be in that dark place. The clone's powerful fist bounced off the shield repeatedly as the beast roared with rage. His head turned over his shoulder and his eyes glared at Cyra.
Cyra held up a peace sign with two fingers. She challenged, "I'd like to see you try."
Cyra was totally prepared to take the clone down by running him over with a train construct or something greater than awesome, but the clone only got two steps before falling to his knees, screaming in pain and clutching his skull like a dog who was hearing a bad whistle.
Then, with what Cyra assumed to be a concussion, she fell to the ground, the world blurring around her.
Footsteps slapped in front of her with no sound. She could make out Guardian's golden helmet in front of her face and his lips moving, but no words reached her ear.
". . . sleep . . . you can't—"
"Sleep sounds good," Cyra agreed.
She felt a light slapping on her cheek and she blinked her heavy eyes opened. Next thing she knew, she felt weightless as she was dragged by her shoulders around, her head slumping.
"Superboy broke out of his pod!" Doctor Spence shouted in alarm. Instantaneously, the doctor, Dubbilex—the blue alien, and Guardian were out the door to the lab, leaving Cyra behind with an ice pack pressed against her head. They said she had a concussion and that she couldn't go to sleep despite the droopiness that turned her face heavy.
Underneath her right eye where the clone had hit her was swollen and throbbed on her face. It took up her whole bottom view out of her eyes, lumpy and purple, and all Cyra could think about was that at least it wasn't her ear.
There was a grape juice box in front of her that Cyra slurped as she watched Superboy's temper tantrum on a screen TV. He had broken out of his pod in a panic, Wolf howling. The Cadmus workers were in seconds to calm him down and Cyra groaned to herself through a mouthful of juice.
The genomorphs were busy sweeping the floor and dusting off telescopes around her. One pushed another, starting a mini fight that ended with them both hugging it out. Cyra's eyebrows drew together curiously. One of the genomorphs had been nice enough to get her that ice pack currently pressed against her cheek.
"Is this what you guys do all day?" Cyra asked one, who merely blinked at her.
A scientist looked up from their microscope. "They're not really around for conversation," they frowned.
Their judgemental look faltered as Cyra looked up, her lips twisted unconvinced.
"I'm sorry, was I talking to you?" Cyra snapped. "Why don't you go cure cancer or something useful instead of spreading your dumb opinion?"
Scoffing, the scientist continued their work.
Cyra crushed the juice box in her hand and felt a tug on her leg. She looked down to see a short, grey genomorph looking up at her with wide eyes. It pointed to the juice box carcass. Cyra gently handed it to the creature, who thanked her with a gurgle from its throat before scurrying off.
Cyra followed the genomorph. It glanced over its shoulder and hurried its walk, but Cyra remained her slow limp as she watched the genomorph throw away her trash. It spun back to her expectantly for another task it assumed she needed to be done.
Cyra fell down onto her knee and held out her fist. "Sup," she nodded.
The creature tilted its head and gurgled up something that sounded close to, "Soup" before hesitantly patted her clenched hand with his open palm.
"Good enough," Cyra said.
The genomorph grinned at her.
Then, by the time Cyra finished familiarizing herself with some Genomorph friends, she slid back into her seats and opened another juice box. Slipping on it, she looked back at the television screen—and sighed.
Superboy was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is he?" Cyra demanded, walking into Guardian's not-so-hard-to-find super-secret surveillance office. All the screens were flipping back and forth between hallways violently, but Cyra couldn't stop out a mini Superman with anger issues anywhere.
"We don't know," Guardian answered quickly, tapping away on his computer. Dr. Spence was leaned over his shoulder. "He just disappeared, so did Dubblex—just like what happened to the other genomorphs and project Match.
"Match?" Cyra scoffed. "Lame name, but we can discuss that later. I need to know where my friend is."
"You should be resting," Dr. Spence snapped. "It's dangerous to have a hero with a concussion running around trying to save people. You might just hurt one of the good guys."
Cyra could feel the thump in her head increase the longer she stood, but she ignored it. She tilted her head and said blankly, "I'd never hurt Superboy."
Dr. Spence's steely expression shimmered.
"There are old caverns underneath the building from failed experiments that they sealed away," Guardian said, having pulled out old lab notes and stained blueprints. "They eroded over time so it became a safety hazard to keep them, but I think I know where they are. That's the only place they could be."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
Guardian's helmet-sealed eyes fell on her and he examined her for a moment, before understanding that they had no other option. "We'll call in guards and the strongest genomorphs to come with us. Let's go."
They stopped outside of a steel wall deep underground, having to take rickety stairs after the elevator had stopped. The wall cut off their entrance to what is supposed to be the hidden chamber where Superboy was abducted too. The only problem was there didn't seem to be any doors or buttons to make the wall slide open.
"It was sealed off," Guardian muttered. "Unless we can find the way Superboy got in, we're not going to be able to find him."
Cyra cracked her fingers. "Debatable."
Then, with a twist of her palms and a twitch of her eyebrow, she focused in on the gears and the lines in the cone at the time until what laid before them was a large drill like you saw in the cartoons. With a grunt, it started up, the front wheeling dangerously fast and Cyra figured she could take out Match with that, so this wall didn't stand a chance.
She had the pistons roll it forward and it hit the wall, instantly chipping away strong. Cyra cast a shield over her and her armed companions to protect them from flying debrief. The mental slowly that crushed into chunks and eventually flew off. The wall was thick and it took the drill and a lot of Cyra's push to get it through over the course of a couple of minutes.
But when the hole was plenty big enough and the drill had disappeared to dust, Cyra could swear she saw Superboy flying.
The cave was large with odd coral-like purple structures in the shapes of slums or houses. Genomorphs covered the place, hiding behind their shelter from the two clones fighting in the middle. The cavern was larger than the Cave and easily big enough to fit every genomorph and any family it could make. Cyra blinked as she realized the structure and the genomorphs disappearance to make this place—it was a city.
Cyra had to put the world-building out of her head for a moment as she watched Superboy take Match to the ground, pounding his face in with roars of rage. Cyra figured he must have super-jumped or was falling with style when Cyra saw his "flying". That was the only thing that would make sense unless Match's powers were contagious.
"Superboy! Stop!" Guardian yelled as they ran up.
Mercy, Luthor's assistant, was there too, but Cyra had no idea how she arrived so fast. Luthor was probably watching them, which Cyra found as no surprise for a bad guy.
Cyra continued past where her friends stopped, practically ripping Superboy off of Match and moving some of his sweaty hair out of his face as his eyes finally focused on her face. "Hey, he's done. You won."
Superboy's face slacked as he looked down at the crippled Match. To Cyra, he didn't look much like a winner.
Mount Justice
November 25, 16:55 EDT
Cyra arrived back home at the Cave after they froze up Match's unconscious body. Superboy wasn't particularly happy about that, even after his temper tantrum that slammed the clone onto the ground, and said he had something else to do and that she would go on without her. Usually, Cyra could have ignored his orders, but her head ached and she would really like a nap.
"Hey, where have you been?" Wally asked, in the kitchen gnawing away at some bones of a turkey. "M'gann and Zatanna said you missed dinner."
Cyra's stomach growled when mentioned. Cyra groaned, "I actually forgot about that—oh god. Superboy had me go on a wild goose chase with Lex Luthor and his estranged brother. Totally not worth it."
"What?" Wally finally looked up from his snack and his eyes widened. "What happened to your face?"
"Too beautiful for your eyes, Wallace? Typical."
Wally sped up from his seat in front of her, causing her hair to whip back from her face. His finger traced the swollen lump underneath Cyra's eye, causing her to wince.
"That looks like it hurt," he muttered.
"It did. I have a concussion too."
"Well, you're just full of fun today," Wally said with purposeful cheer.
"Per usual," Cyra shrugged. She looked to Wally's plate. "I deserve a reward."
Wally raised an eyebrow hopefully, "A kiss?"
"Mashed potatoes."