[Four months later]
Life had changed again for the trio. They moved to their new mansion.
The renovation had taken weeks, mostly because Harley refused to let anyone else handle the "fun parts." She painted the walls herself, splashing red and blue patterns across the hallways until John gently suggested they hire professionals to fix the uneven patches. She agreed, only after sneaking in one last "artistic masterpiece" in the form of a smiley face behind a curtain in the living room.
The backyard was her favorite. Obviously, because of the pool and a small garden that Maureen takes care of. The best part, though, was Harley's invention: a bright red slide that spiraled down from her balcony straight into the pool. She had insisted it be made of reinforced plastic "for maximum splash potential."
"Who needs stairs when you can make an entrance?" she declared proudly on the day it was finished, before testing it headfirst with a loud yell that startled the landscapers.
John just shook his head, smiling. "Every day's a circus," he said under his breath.
Inside, Maureen had turned one of the two basement rooms into her training room. Harley called it "the fridge."
Business, meanwhile, was booming. John had turned JHM Pizza into a full-fledged chain. Four stores in Metropolis, three in Star City, six in Central City, and four in Fawcett City. Each one kept the same cozy style as the original: bright lights, clean counters, that homemade feel. But he spared no expense on the upgrades. Best ovens, polished interiors, and delivery drones that Harley had named "Pizza Birds."
Well, the delivery drones from Wayne Enterprises became very popular among the restaurants and small businesses thanks to fast delivery, and a proper security system that zaps anyone who tries to steal the food, takes pics, and sends them to the cops. Despite the slightly higher price, it was slowly killing the delivery jobs.
Moving on...
Their original shop in Dakota City was still open. John made sure of that. He had it remodeled with black-and-gold decor, marble tables, and a new neon sign that glowed "JHM Pizza". The place looked expensive, but the prices hadn't changed.
"Good food shouldn't cost a fortune," he'd told the board, which consisted of two people, Harley and Maureen, during the expansion meeting. "We started this for the people, and that's how it's gonna stay." They had a little fun playing a business meeting with serious expressions. The trio even wore suits during that meeting in their living room.
It worked. The city loved them for it.
The JHM logo appeared on billboards, buses, and television screens across the country. John had poured enough money into advertising. The image of Harley biting into a slice on live TV, grinning and saying, "Tastes like chaos and cheese!" became a meme within a week. Sales doubled after that.
At home, things were peaceful.
Mornings started with Harley making breakfast while dancing in her pajamas, Maureen reading the news in the corner, and John organizing the day's business calls with a cup of strong coffee in hand.
Sometimes they went for drives along the coast. Sometimes they stayed in, movie nights turning into sleepovers in the living room.
All in all, things were perfect.
Next, let's go to their vigilante life at night.
The trio fought crimes and criminal Bang Babies every now and then. Sometimes they joined hands with Static and Gear to stop robberies, drug rings, and powered thugs that tore through Dakota's backstreets. They made quite the team, but they decided to keep their identity a secret by wearing masks.
Though John didn't need any mask because of his transformation, Harley insisted it was part of their "brand." She even made Maureen's mask frost-blue to match her powers, while her own was coated in reflective glitter that threw light like a disco ball. "If we're gonna punch crooks," she said, "we're gonna look fabulous doing it."
John took the lead as usual and did his best to keep property damages to a minimum. And he always transformed in secret to prevent his weakness from getting out. He also started to learn other magic and more martial arts, using his wisdom that he could use in his base form. Oh, and he started to spread his name.
The streets whispered his name after every storm: Black Adam.
Maureen also earned her own reputation. The criminals of Dakota learned to fear the sudden drop in temperature that came before she appeared. Ice crawled across concrete, freezing tires, weapons, and sometimes entire alleys. The media called her Permafrost after one night when she froze a gang truck solid during a police chase.
And then there was Harley: loud, unpredictable, and dazzling. She wielded twin electric batons that she'd rigged with glitter charges, so every hit ended with a flash of sparkles. The crooks never forgot her laugh echoing through the chaos. The city named her Glitter Queen, a title she wore like royalty.
They didn't just fight for fun. Whenever they busted big criminal gangs or intercepted shipments of stolen tech, they took the money and gave eighty percent of it to the local church that looked after homeless kids and shelters. The rest they kept. Harley called it their "snack fund."
Within four months, they became as famous as Static. People started spotting them on rooftops, saving civilians during explosions, or helping police during disasters. Kids wore paper lightning bolts and frost masks, pretending to be them.
Even Static once joked during a live interview, "If you see a lightning bolt, a snowstorm, and a sparkle explosion together—just know the dream team's got it handled."
...
[A few days later]
[Abandoned Gas Station – Static's Base]
Static leaned back against the workbench, sparks crackling between his fingers. "So you're telling me you can do all that lightning stuff and not blow a fuse?" he asked.
John, in his transformed form, was leaning against an old car. He said, "Control isn't about power, kid. It's about focus. You're letting your energy lead you. You need to lead it."
Virgil clenched his fists and opened them again. Sparks of lightning danced around his fingers. "Control, huh?" He mumbled to himself.
"That's right. You've got potential," John said. "But potential without discipline is just noise."
Gear sat on top of an old car hood, tightening a drone's joint. "Translation," he said without looking up, "you're about to get schooled."
Static cracked his knuckles. "Alright, old man. Show me what you've got."
John exhaled slowly and raised one hand. Lightning sparked from his fingertips, curling like ribbons before solidifying into a glowing whip of pure electricity. He spun it once, testing its elasticity.
"Lesson one," John said, stepping forward. "Lightning is an extension of your will. Not a tool. You have to feel it like muscle memory."
Static's eyes widened. "You just made a lightning whip."
"Focus," John said as he absorbed the whip. "Now, hit me."
Virgil raised his hands, blue arcs gathering around him. He shot a bolt straight toward John's chest. John didn't move. The bolt hit his palm, split in two, and fizzled out.
"Not bad," John said. "But you're thinking small. You're firing energy like bullets. Lightning isn't a projectile. It's alive. Treat it like one."
Static frowned, adjusting his stance. "Alright, then let's see what 'alive' looks like."
John's eyes flashed with faint golden light. The air crackled around them. He slammed his foot down, and lightning exploded across the ground like a shockwave, cracking the ground like spider web.
"Lesson two," he continued. "Adaptation."
He raised both hands. The lightning bent, shaping into a dozen glowing spears that hovered around him.
Static grinned. "Okay… that's just showing off."
"Then stop watching and move."
The spears shot forward. Static dodged the first two, ducked under the third, then lifted off the ground on his magnetic disc. He swung low, firing a quick shockwave at John.
John countered, deflecting it with his arm and sending a return surge that knocked Static's disc off balance. Virgil flipped midair, landed on one knee, and laughed. "You don't pull punches, huh?"
"Didn't say this was a lesson in comfort," John said.
Static refocused, charging both hands with energy. He raised them to the sky, pulling ambient electricity from nearby streetlights and power lines. The air shimmered. Bolts gathered overhead like storm clouds forming on command.
Gear whistled. "Okay, that's new. Never seen you gather this much energy before."
John looked up. "Now you're getting it."
Static thrust both hands forward. A wave of raw lightning tore through the air. John stood his ground, crossing his arms as the energy struck him head-on. The blast shook the gas station, shattering a few glass bottles and rattling the rafters. When the light faded, John was still standing, eyes glowing white.
"Not bad," he said with a smile. "But you're still holding back."
Static huffed. The insane energy blast drained him. It was harder than he imagined. "If I don't hold back, I'll fry this whole block."
John took a slow step toward him. "Then learn to direct it."
He raised his hand and pointed at a metal sign ten feet away. "Focus on that. Channel everything you've got into one point. Don't think about destruction—think precision. Draw a mental image first, then focus."
Static nodded, spreading his stance. Sparks swirled around him, pulling inward like a cyclone. His body glowed brighter and brighter until the light condensed into a single pulse at his fingertips. He thrust it forward.
A thin, concentrated beam of lightning shot across the room and hit the sign dead center, burning a perfect circle through it.
Gear blinked. "Okay, that was awesome."
Static exhaled, grinning. "Guess I still got it."
John nodded once. "Better. You're starting to listen."
Static looked up at him, eyes full of curiosity. "How'd you get so good at this?"
John's expression turned distant for a second. "Pain's a good teacher. So is time." He looked back at Virgil. "You've got time, and I'll bring the pain. So, keep it up and you'll improve more than you can imagine."
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