In the bustling plaza of Metropolis, chaos reigned under a bright afternoon sky. Superman streaked through the air like a blue-and-red comet, trading blows with the Royal Flush Gang—card-themed villains unleashing pyrotechnics, metallic constructs, and elastic traps. Explosions bloomed like fireworks; civilians screamed and scattered. Jin stood at a safe distance on a low rooftop ledge, hood up, old digital camera raised. He snapped shot after shot, framing Superman's heat vision carving through a flaming card projectile, the Man of Steel's cape whipping in the wind.
In his ear, "Bad Future" from the Sonic the Hedgehog soundtrack thumped—fast, urgent, chaotic in the best way. It fit the madness perfectly.
"Sir, please prioritize your safety," Beta's voice crackled calmly. "One of the attackers just redirected a projectile trajectory toward your position."
Jin sidestepped without looking, letting a glowing ace of spades card embed itself in the brick wall behind him with a hiss. He snapped a quick photo of the villain mid-throw, then ducked behind an air-conditioning unit as the fight shifted again.
"God… now I get how civilians felt when I used to yeet Rhino through a building and they were just… standing there," he muttered, checking the screen. The photo was crisp—Superman mid-punch, fist connecting with a metallic queen figure. Good stuff. He could sell these to the Daily Planet if he ever needed quick cash.
As he pivoted to line up another angle, he noticed her.
A small girl—maybe twelve or thirteen—stood unnaturally still amid the fleeing crowd. Pale skin, dark hair, He was wearing a sort of black and white bikini, with wide sleeves, and a look that suggested he'd seen too much for his age, exactly as he looked after a few months as Spider-Man. She wasn't even flinching at the explosions. She was watching him.
"And who's the kid?" Jin said under his breath, lowering the camera slightly but not fully turning away from the fight.
"My friends used to call me Ace," she replied, voice soft but carrying over the distant booms like she was right next to him.
Jin raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself. "Cool name. Mine's—"
"Jin Parker," she finished quietly.
He paused, then let out a short laugh that held no real humor. "Telepath?"
"Something like that. Same as those mutants from your old universe, Mister Parker."
He studied her for a second—really studied her. The way she stood, small but unafraid. The faint tremor in her hands she tried to hide. Something familiar clicked in the back of his mind, a warning from too many bad memories.
"Hm. Been around people like you before," he said, lowering the camera completely now. The fight raged on behind them—Superman had just slammed the Jack through a billboard—but Jin wasn't watching anymore. "How do you hold it together with all that noise in your head?"
Ace tilted her head slightly. "How do *you*? You've got… a lot of static. Old screams. Faces you keep pushing down."
Jin exhaled through his nose, rubbing the bridge between his eyes. A dull throb started behind his temples—her presence pressing in like static electricity. "Yeah. It's loud sometimes. But you keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Hoping tomorrow's less of a shitshow than today."
Ace stepped closer, careful, like approaching a wounded animal. "That's it? Just… keep going?"
"Pretty much. Worked so far." He winced as the headache sharpened. "Damn. You're strong. Stronger than most I've met."
"I'm sorry," she said immediately, voice small. She pulled back a little, eyes dropping. "I don't mean to push. It just… happens."
Jin shook his head, forcing the pain down through sheer stubbornness. "It's fine, Ace. Just… dial it back a notch? No deep dives into the archives. Especially not her. Not today."
She nodded quickly. "I won't. Promise."
A screech of metal—Superman hurled a car like a frisbee. It sailed toward them. Jin reacted on instinct, yanking Ace against his side and diving behind the AC unit. The car crumpled against the rooftop edge in a shower of sparks and glass.
They stayed crouched for a second, breathing hard.
"Now I really know what it's like to be a civilian," Jin muttered, eyeing the smoking wreck. "No powers, no nothing. Just hoping the big guy doesn't accidentally flatten you."
Ace stayed close, not pulling away. "That's most people's lives. No capes. No resets. Just… trying not to get crushed."
Jin glanced down at her. "Rough one for you too, huh?"
She didn't answer right away. Then, quietly: "Cadmus. They took me when I was little. Made me play 'games.' Training. Tests. Turning me into… something useful. A weapon." Her voice cracked just a fraction. "I didn't ask for any of it."
Jin's jaw tightened. He knew that story—different universe, same pain. "Yeah. I know the type. Labs. Needles. People telling you you're a tool, not a person. Then one day you break free, and the world still looks at you like you're the monster."
Ace looked up at him, eyes wide but not teary. "You… get it."
"More than I'd like." He sat fully on the gravel rooftop now, back against the unit, legs stretched out. The fight was winding down—Superman had the upper hand. "Look, kid… I've lost people. Worlds. Pieces of myself. Sometimes the only thing that kept me going was knowing if I stopped, the people who hurt me won. They don't get to win."
Ace sat beside him, knees drawn up. "I'm… not going to last long. Months, maybe. The power's eating me from the inside. Brain thing. If I go out wrong… it could take everyone with me."
Jin didn't flinch. He'd heard worse fates. "DC rules, huh? Strong ones die for plot or growth. Classic."
She gave a tiny, broken laugh. "Yeah. Welcome to the show."
He pulled out his phone, thumbed through contacts absently, then pocketed it again. "Listen. I'm not exactly father-of-the-year material. I've got my own mess—symbiotes, multiverse bullshit, a ghost that won't leave me alone. But… you don't have to do the end alone. If you want."
Ace stared at him. "You're offering to… adopt me? Just like that?"
Jin shrugged. "Like a certain old man once said—the guy who can casually punch an island into the ocean—'sometimes the world needs someone to step up.' So yeah. If you'll have it."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You're weird."
"World's weirder." He stood, offering a hand. She took it. He pulled her up, then shrugged off his gray hoodie and draped it over her shoulders. It swallowed her small frame. "Your outfit's not exactly kid-appropriate for Metropolis winters. Wear this for now. Beach or pool only for whatever you've got on underneath."
Ace tugged the sleeves over her hands, looking almost shy. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." He glanced back at the plaza—Superman was cuffing the last villain, crowd cheering. "Come on. Let's get out of here before the press starts asking questions."
As they walked down the fire escape together, Ace spoke again, softer. "You really think tomorrow can be better?"
Jin paused on a landing, looking out over the city. "I think it has to be. Otherwise what's the point of any of this?"
She nodded slowly, gripping the hoodie tighter.
For the first time in a long while, the static in Jin's head felt a little quieter. Not gone—just… shared.