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To the attention of the readers who enjoy reading an intelligent main character like Miles will definitely like my original story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Kaznia
This time, he did not merely intend to let Vandal Savage walk away. They were not in the United States, and the League's reach did not extend to Kaznia.
The plan was simple. Princess Audrey wanted to meet her future husband-to-be. She wanted to know who she would be marrying. A very reasonable request on her part.
Vandal would be unlikely to refuse. The meeting would be a chance to win her over, as he had her father.
What he needed was a reliable way to terminate him, permanently.
Burning him to charcoal was an option, but he wanted something more certain. Such as releasing him to the heat and gravity of the sun.
No kill like overkill.
And he had the perfect delivery method in mind.
—
"Mr. Savage." Audrey greeted the man her father had chosen for her, closing the door behind her after checking for any prying eyes. Future husband or not, it would look terrible to invite him to her room.
He held his hand out. Once she placed hers with a smile, he landed a light kiss on her knuckles. "Please, princess, call me Vandal."
"Quite an interesting last name," she commented, gesturing for him to take a seat across from her.
"A certain ancestor with a sense of humor is responsible for it. We kept it out of tradition." He explained while moving to take the offered seat.
"Quite," she chuckled. "I actually wished to meet you for this." She opened the velvet box on the table, presenting the contents to him.
"A watch?" he asked. He knew Audrey's shopping habits. She had rarely bothered to buy a gift. Not even for her father. It appeared to be an attempt to get to know her future husband.
"Yes, a gift for our approaching nuptials."
"How kind of you, princess."
"Since I am calling you Vandal, I insist you call me Audrey."
"Audrey, I am grateful, but I have nothing to give in kind." It was the perfect time to play the benevolent fiancee.
"This was a surprise after all. Won't you put it on?"
"Very well."
Vandal wrapped the watch around his wrist. It was ostentatious for his tastes, but appearances had to be kept.
He turned his arm, examining the silver-colored gift in imitation of gratitude. When a silver wave surged from the watch, he did not have the time to react. The metal flowed across his body like a liquid, covering him up to his neck in armor.
"What is the meaning of this?" he roared, trying to move to take the watch off.
Audrey rolled her shoulders, turning her attention to the doorway. "Ask him, not me. This was his plan all along."
Vandal couldn't even twitch a finger. Whoever the figures behind him were, he had just been caught defenseless.
A man, dressed in a suit with a coat and a fedora hat, entered the edge of his vision, followed by a ginger woman and a young African man.
"It appears even the wise Vandal Savage lets his guard down in front of such an innocent face."
"Or would you prefer Vandar Adg?" Miles said, testing the last name on his tongue. "How do you pronounce it anyway? Doesn't roll off the tongue so easily. Adg." He repeated the word a couple more times with different pronunciations.
"Who are you?" he asked. The armor would not give no matter what he did. He could not activate the neuroshock to shortcircuit it.
"The man who just trapped you like a rat." The man said with an infuriating smirk.
Vandal was simmering; he could see it.
"What do you want?" A thousand scenarios run through his mind. Most concerned a possible relationship between this man and the princess.
He had never seen the young man before him, ever. If there was a grievance, it was one he did not know of.
"I want to be back home, enjoying a cold glass of iced tea with bruschetta." Vandal stopped struggling, looking at his captor with a blank face.
"Then why aren't you?"
The man clapped, sitting next to Audrey, right across from him. "Because this world has megalomaniacs such as yourself. Someone has to curb you before you become a greater problem."
"I mean, time traveling to Nazi Germany for world domination? What is the point?"
Vandal's eye widened ever so slightly. Either there was a traitor among his ranks, or his base had been infiltrated. Each option was undesirable.
"Humanity…" He started, only for the man to chuckle.
"Will we be better off under your rule? Because you are so old, wise, and experienced? Because you are the natural leader of humanity?"
"Fifty thousand years," he shook his head, "and you never grasped the nature of what you seek to rule."
"Humanity is unruly. We cannot be controlled, not for long. Every empire, every nation, every belief, and every idea must die and leave its place for the new ones. A concept that an immortal like you cannot grasp."
The word "immortal" finally broke Vandal's calm visage. His eyebrows rose, wrinkling his forehead. The number of people who knew he was an immortal was low, and this young man should not be among that number.
"Tribal chiefs left their place to lords and kings. They left it to elected rulers. But you have been the same for fifty thousand years. Sure, you learned and improved yourself, but never changed for the better."
Vandal had fifty thousand years to understand the nature of humanity. That he had not was either a falling on his part or on the part of the writers who had created him.
"That is why you never succeeded in bringing humanity under your rule, ever."
"A well-prepared speech. Did you practice it before a mirror?"
"No, you are not worth the effort." Miles got up from his seat. He flicked a finger up, and so did Vandal. The shell that was encapsulating him forced the ancient caveman to walk.
"Perhaps we can come to an agreement. You appear to be a wise and well-prepared young man." The young man's words—he should really learn his name—did make him question several decisions. He had never shied from an alliance, and there could be an opportunity here.
"Perhaps if you understood how pointless your ideas of conquest are." He didn't have thirty thousand years to spare. Nor would mere words suffice to bring the enlightenment he had achieved after the death of humanity.
Vandal Savage from the future, who had assisted Superman, would make a fantastic ally. There simply was no way for him to exist that included the safety of the human race.
"What now?" he asked.
"Now, you are going to die, for the final time." Savage's brand of immortality meant he would always be resurrected. No matter the method of his execution.
Miles smiled. There were worse fates than death.
"I am an immortal; nothing has been able to kill me for fifty thousand years. What makes you think you will succeed?"
In his long, long life, he had tasted every kind of death. He had always returned.
The armor forced him to the balcony. The sun was at the top, heating the marble floor. He tilted his head back, raising a hand to block the sunlight.
"Believe me, being immortal at where you are about to go is the last thing you want."
"No, no!" Vandal screamed, having realized what the man had in mind. His screams were cut when the armor covered his head as well, silencing him.
The armor took off. The surface rippled, turning reflective. Invisible to sight and scans, its target was the sun.
Miles would be watching the entire journey. Vandal was too dangerous to be allowed to live. The League might thwart him at every turn, but it did not negate the damage he would cause.
He also had the chance to rant.
Fifty thousand years, and Vandal had accomplished nothing more than being several important historical figures.
He watched every second of the journey. The armor glowed red with friction as it left the Earth's atmosphere. Vandal's attempts to break free only slowed down due to the lack of oxygen. By the time the armor entered FTL speeds to reach the sun, Vandal was dead.
His immortality kicked in, resurrecting him, only for the man to die again. The cycle continued until the armor stopped right before the sun's gravity would be too much to handle.
It got worse, even if only for a short while.
He entered the release command on the control panel of his watch. The front of the armor retracted, no longer holding Vandal in place. The gravity pulled him forward, though he was already a roughly human-shaped charcoal within seconds.
The deeper layers of the sun were millions of degrees hot. Vandal's immortality would not be able to restructure anything before it was annihilated. He would be stuck in a limbo of unawareness without a neurological system.
It was as close to death as he would get. Only he, Claire, and Baraka knew where he had been sent to.
Unless someone like the Spectre or the Presence would interfere for some reason, nothing short of a time traveler would be able to save Vandal.
"You sure there was no other method? This seems a bit extreme." Then again, her royal duties did not include ways of killing, especially an immortal human.
"He is fifty thousand years old. Unless you want to pray for a miracle, then it wasn't," Claire said.
She rolled her shoulders. "So what now?"
"Simple. You and I just reached an agreement on an investment of," his eyes glanced upwards, "how much did you say you wanted?"
"Ten billion… for everything?"
He nodded. "Ten billion dollars. I am sure your father will be even more delighted with you than he was with Vandal."
He wasn't investing that amount for charity or because he could. Kaznia would be a part of the EU soon. Having a friend inside was a necessary component of his plans.
Not to mention the economic benefits from investing in a country that would join the eurozone as well.
"The investment resolves the immediate and long-term economic issues, while the contribution to the space station increases Kaznia's standing in the international community. And you are the one who made it happen," he shook her hand.
As he preferred his anonymity, Mary would have to reach out on behalf of EnviroCorps for the investment. His current funds, the company's profit margin, and the gold he had in stock were more than enough.
Ten billion dollars could not be invested in a day. It would take years for the total amount, and he would not have to spare time to smuggle gold out of the USA.
—
"Ten billion dollars? From that new American company? How?"
"He was at the party. I took the opportunity to show him that Kaznia was worth investing in."
Audrey was startled by her father's bellow and the ensuing bear hug. "That's my girl." She stood still, arms slowly reaching to hug back.
She looked up, trying to remember the last time her father had shown such affection. He had given her expensive gifts, allowed her to throw parties, and go on shopping sprees, yet something as simple as a hug was not in his repertoire.
"This deserves a celebration."
—
Her father's celebration included everything available. Expensive catering, live music, and stunt performers, just so he could announce the success of his daughter.
It was all prepared in a day.
Audrey had taken the chance to unwind from the events of the previous day. This party proved to be the greatest one she had ever attended.
Gustav had lost himself to the party, more than his daughter, for the first and last time ever. As he stood on the podium, ready with his grand speech, he faltered.
What came out of his lips wasn't words, but a hacking. He put a hand over his heart, squeezing the flesh as if it would alleviate the pain.
The crowd was drunk, both on alcohol and merriment. It took them longer than normal to realize Gustav was having a heart attack.
The adrenaline sobered her up quickly. She rushed to her father first, screaming for a doctor. The crowd panicked. Some called for an ambulance, but by the time one arrived an hour later, it was too late.
When Audrey, the new queen of Kaznia, announced the death of her father days later, the civilians rejoiced.
The architect of the heavy taxes was dead. It had drawn the people to the streets to celebrate while the international community mourned the death of a ruler who had made great contributions to science.
Audrey, as the new ruler, had a difficult challenge before her. She started by reducing the taxes and Kaznia's contribution to the space station. The ten billion dollar investment by the EnviroCorps was announced.
She pledged that it would be used to repair the crumbling infrastructure.
Behind the scenes, a quiet purge took place. She had received a list of Vandal's operatives in Kaznia. Several important figures were on it, including the former chamberlain of her father.
As proof of her respect for rule of law, the traitors would be judged by the courts.
Queen Audrey did not stop there. She initiated negotiations with the Northern tribes. Their grievances, which stemmed from cultural, economic, and religious oppression, would be addressed without delay.
Creation of a constitution to guarantee the rights of all who called Kaznia home took place. People from all parts of the country, including the Northern tribe members, were invited to take part.
The European Union had released statements on the subject.
They were pleased with the reforms taking place in Kaznia. An economic relief package was prepared. Observers were sent to the negotiations, and legal help was rendered for the constitution.
—
Metropolis
Miles nodded in approval to himself. Audrey had just signed a treaty with the Northern tribes. Kaznia would be united, which meant she would follow by applying to join the EU.
She had accomplished it all in two months.
He turned the TV off. He had to be up early tomorrow for work.
Laying on his bed, he felt unsettled. His operations were going excellently, the situation in Kaznia was resolved better than before, and Vandal Savage was dead.
Yet an instinctual feeling would not let him sleep.
He turned over, flipped his pillow, and even went to drink a glass of hot milk. Finally feeling weary enough, he managed to sleep way past the hour he intended to.
But the sleep was not pleasant.
Dreams of memories he would prefer to forget resurfaced. They played one after another, displaying the lows of his life. It all ended with words that resonated in his soul.
"YOU HAVE MEDDLED TOO MUCH."
When he lurched from the bed, drenched in sweat, heaving for breath, it was noon.
—
In the next chapter:
Baraka opened the door for him and Claire. He quickly took the driver's seat, ready to drive.
"Wait, Miles?!" a very familiar, tired voice called to him. He turned back, hand on the door handle, gazing across the street. He froze for a second, turning his head away to hide his widening eyes.
"Do you know her?" Claire asked, eyes locked on her boss.
"Not at all," he said, opening the door.
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