| Metropolis - November 23
Joseph sat in his office, dressed in what was quickly becoming his uniform: a white shirt and dark pants, with his Nth Bands transformed into a fitness watch and a RoLex.
When it came to LuthorCorp, he had stopped letting Nova handle everything and started doing things himself. He needed something to occupy his mind.
//Incoming call from Wonder Woman.// Nova intoned.
Accept it, Joseph replied mentally, eager for a break from paperwork.
"Joseph, we need to talk," came Diana's voice.
"What's this about?" Joseph responded mentally, his thoughts translating into speech on her end—a perk of being a technopath.
"It's about your mother's tribe—the Amazons of Bana-Mighdall."
"I see. Mind if I just teleport over?"
"Please do."
Joseph turned to Croc, who was working at a desk in the office. At Croc's insistence, Joseph had started giving him secretary and managerial work. The man was good at it too—despite his brutish appearance, he was quite clever.
Maybe I should get him an office.
"I'll be stepping out, Waylon. You're free to go. Tell Janet I said hi."
"Will do, boss," Joseph heard Waylon reply as he stepped out the door.
**
Joseph stepped out of a blue Boom Tube, appearing in the desert wearing his Nova suit.
His HUD showed he was somewhere between Egypt and Qurac.
Ahead of him stood Wonder Woman on a perch overlooking a distant city—one he'd never seen before—its architecture a blend of Greek and Arab styles.
Her appearance had changed.
She had once worn a strapless red bustier held up by a golden brace shaped like two W's, a large golden belt, blue briefs with five white stars, red boots with a white stripe, silver bracelets, red star earrings, and a golden diadem with a red star. Her lasso had hung at her side.
Now, she wore a sleeveless top with a red section reminiscent of her original costume, but with a blue panel covering her chest. Navy blue undersleeves with fingerless gloves extended to her arms, each marked with a white star. Her briefs were longer, with three wide, pteruges-like flaps—one at the front and one on each side, the side flaps marked with white stars and all trimmed in white. Her boots were now blue, extending above her knees with golden kneepads. Alongside her lasso, she carried a sword at her hip and a small round shield on her back.
"I see you found Bana-Mighdall," Joseph said.
"Yes. There used to be a mystical sandstorm that masked its location. Hermes destroyed it."
Joseph's attention sharpened.
Diana continued, "The worst has come to pass. Olympus has discovered the existence of our wayward sister tribe and is demanding their complete eradication for abandoning the Greek gods. The Amazons of Themyscira have been issued an edict and will soon move to carry it out."
That was bad. Seriously bad.
Joseph knew, from his mother's prayer being answered by Horus, that the Egyptian gods valued their loyal followers in Bana-Mighdall. Even if they were a violent society, their destruction at the hands of the Greek Amazons could spark a divine conflict.
And in wars between gods, it was mortals who suffered—and Chaos that rose.
"Can the Amazons be convinced not to fight?" Joseph asked.
"I've tried," Diana said, "but I failed to convince my mother and the others. We have served the Greek gods for millennia and are empowered by them. Our home is hidden by their will. And this… does not go against our mission."
She paused.
"The Amazons of Themyscira were created to be peaceful emissaries and protectors of humanity—to lead by example and inspire ideals of love, justice, and equality. The Bana-Mighdall have corrupted that mission through mercenary work and enslavement. None of the Amazons see an issue with carrying out this judgment."
Joseph couldn't argue with that. Honestly, he might have turned a blind eye if he weren't personally connected.
But he was.
"Is that why you're dressed for war?" Joseph asked. "Are you going to accept it?"
"No," Diana said firmly. "Once, I might have complied. But now, my loyalty is to truth and justice."
She looked toward the city.
"While I am repulsed by their history—the killing of male infants, their mercenary ways—I believe they can be reformed. The Olympians' anger over 'apostasy' is petty, ego-driven wrath—not justification for genocide. Many within Bana-Mighdall—children, or those forced into that life—do not deserve collective punishment."
She turned back to him.
"I will protect them. Even if it means standing against Olympus. Though they must return the Golden Girdle of Gaea—it is one of our most sacred relics."
That was such a Wonder Woman answer. She was as much a symbol of hope as Superman.
"Alright," Joseph said. "So what do you need me for? You're strong enough to handle your people."
"The problem," Diana replied, "is that it won't just be my people attacking. Egypt and Qurac are mobilizing their militaries to eliminate what they see as a threat. And as a member of the Justice League, I cannot be seen interfering in a conflict like this—especially while protecting those considered terrorists."
Joseph nodded.
"Got it. Leave it to me, then."
"Are you sure?" Diana asked. "You'll be labeled all kinds of things by the media if they find out. There may even be orders to apprehend you for interfering in an international conflict. At the very least, you might be barred from operating as Nova in the United States."
"That's fine," Joseph said. "The Powerpuff Girls can handle Metropolis, and Chicago will be more than covered once the hero academy opens. Besides, I'm not part of the League. Unless it's an extraterrestrial or global magical threat, I don't need to be everywhere."
He shrugged slightly.
"At this point, I can do more good as myself."
Diana studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Thank you, Joseph. Your help is appreciated."
"No problem," he replied. "I'll go meet them now and see if they can be reasoned with before things escalate."
With that, Joseph lifted off the ground and barreled toward the city.
As he was about to enter its bounds, his Nova Sense picked up a fast-approaching, potent magical energy signature.
He stopped midair, summoning his Soulsword. It glowed blue as he raised it toward an incoming arrow made of pure energy.
His blade split the arrow cleanly in two. Both halves veered past him on altered trajectories before detonating with enough force to level a building.
Joseph whistled. That was certainly one way to welcome someone.
Though he couldn't really fault them. Their magic barrier had just disappeared, and now a fast-approaching flying figure was heading straight for their city. Anyone would be on edge.
His vision zoomed in on the source of the attack. A woman stood with a bow, a glowing orange sigil glowing in front of its frame.
//I have analyzed the sigil. The bow derives its power from the sun god Ra,// Nova informed him.
Joseph took in her appearance. She wore a striking fusion of Amazonian bronze armor and Egyptian royal attire—a golden, tiered usekh collar, and a white desert headdress crowned with a rigid golden circlet. The ensemble was defined by a sun-drenched palette of gold and terracotta, accented by bold black war paint across her eyes.
At her waist rested a radiant golden girdle. Joseph could feel its magic—it had to be the one Diana mentioned.
Compared to the surrounding Amazons—armed with guns and dressed far less elaborately—she stood apart. Commanding. Regal.
The leader.
The Shim'tar.
The sigil flared brighter. The Shim'tar formed another glowing arrow and drew it back, aiming at him once more.
Joseph surged forward, increasing his speed.
She released.
The arrow screamed through the air, but Joseph didn't dodge. He held his sword out and met it head-on—
—and the arrow passed straight through him.
It detonated behind him with enough force to level a city block.
Good thing he'd arrived before the Middle Eastern militaries.
"Haha," Joseph laughed, glancing at the Shim'tar's stunned expression.
He hadn't been able to access the Mirror World in Trigon's dimension—but he was back on Earth now.
He didn't need to dodge.
He could replicate Martian density shifting using analyzed Amazo tech, but that still left the body present—vulnerable to sufficiently powerful attacks or magic.
This?
This was better.
With access to the Mirror World, his body simply wasn't there. Untouchable.
Well—almost.
Omega Beams were the exception.
Several Amazons opened fire, but Joseph continued forward, phasing through every bullet without slowing. He stopped directly in front of the Shim'tar.
Gunfire continued for a moment—rounds passing harmlessly through him—before it gradually died down. The Amazons, realizing it was useless, kept their weapons trained on him anyway.
The Shim'tar lowered her bow slightly, ready to speak since he hadn't attacked.
Joseph spoke first.
"I mean no harm."
A ripple of shock passed through the surrounding Amazons.
He was speaking their language.
A hybrid of ancient Greek, Old Arabic, and Egyptian. Nova had deciphered it from his mother's journals, reconstructed its likely pronunciation, and uploaded the language into his mind.
Hopefully, the accent was right.
"You intrude in our home and speak our tongue. Who are you, male?" the Shim'tar said, the last word dripping with disdain.
As expected.
A culture steeped in millennia of misandry—one that kidnapped men, used them, and discarded them.
Joseph moved his arms, and the surrounding Amazons tensed—including the Shim'tar.
He simply removed his helmet.
"My name is Joseph. I am here to protect you."
"Protection… from a male?" The woman beside the Shim'tar, dressed in green, spat the words as she aimed her gun at his head. "I would rather die."
'Yeah… no. I'm not taking this disrespect.'
Why should he shield them from consequences they had earned?
Not all cultures were equal. Some—like this one, steeped in cruelty—didn't deserve preservation.
He shared nothing with them but blood. If he had been born here, they would have killed him as an infant.
Even his mother had chosen to leave, preferring Gotham over this place.
He doubted she would mourn their fate from Aaru.
He'd tell Diana he tried.
Joseph rose into the air without another word, preparing to leave.
The Shim'tar and the other Amazons didn't stop him.
That told him everything.
But just as he was about to take off, a sudden commotion broke out.
The crowd parted.
An elderly woman in red robes—well past ninety—hurried forward as quickly as her body allowed, supported by a one-eyed woman clad in silver and white.
"Faruka, why have you brought High Priestess Kadesha Banu here?" the Shim'tar demanded.
"She insisted," Faruka replied. "She said she received an urgent revelation."
"What is it, Priestess?"
But the old woman ignored them all.
She stepped forward—
and fell to her knees before Joseph.
"Son of Hope Taya… please," she said, her voice trembling.
"Save us from destruction."