One Flesh, Infinite Stars

Morning light poured into the Hall of Justice, softening the hard edges of the room. The central table glowed with holograms—red blips flickering along the eastern seaboard, a quiet threat creeping back to life. Batman stood at the head, his voice low and rough, like a storm rolling in. "Brainiac's ship is sunk, but his drones are active. They're hitting coastal power plants, rebuilding his grid."

Metro Man lounged in a chair, one leg slung over the armrest, his white suit still flawless after yesterday's dust-up. Retirement in Metro City had been a bore—Megamind's schemes were small potatoes compared to this. Now, with Brainiac's leftovers stirring, that old fire flickered in his chest, begging for a fight. His gaze drifted to Diana, standing tall near Superman, her armor catching the sun like a warrior's trophy. She'd pushed him on that roof, and he liked the way she didn't blink.

Superman turned, his broad frame steady, blue eyes calm but firm. "Metro Man, we're not done yet. Those drones are putting people at risk—folks who don't deserve this. You with us?"

Metro Man swung his leg down, leaning forward with a lazy grin. "Oh, I'm in, Blue. These drones asking for a beating?"

"They're Brainiac's remnants," Diana said, her voice smooth and sharp, carrying a weight that made you sit up. "Tenacious, smart—built to rip things apart and feed his machine."

"Megamind's bots with attitude," Metro Man said, standing with a stretch. "Let's go smash 'em."

Superman nodded, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Good. We'll handle it—keep the damage low."

Batman's eyes narrowed under his cowl, cutting through the light. "They adapt fast. Don't drag it out."

Metro Man chuckled, clapping his hands once. "Fast's my middle name, Bats. Let's roll."

---

They cut through the sky, wind tugging at them as the coast stretched out below—a jagged line of cliffs and restless waves. The drones had picked a power plant just shy of Gotham, a brick hulk hugging the shoreline. Their green shells shimmered in the sun, tendrils digging into the reactors, sparks spitting wild. Workers bolted, voices lost in the machinery's whine, and Metro Man felt that grin creep up—he was made for this.

Superman dropped into the fray, moving like he belonged there. "Heads up, Metro Man—let's clear 'em out." He smashed through a knot of drones, steel crumpling under his fists, then grabbed a falling steel beam before it pinned a guy in a hard hat. "Get clear," he said, setting it down steady, his tone calm but solid.

Diana landed smooth, her lasso snapping out to snag a handful of drones. She swung them into the dirt, metal crunching like dry leaves. Metro Man went for the thick of it—where the drones swarmed tight around the plant's heart. He shot in, slamming through them like a golden wrecking ball, bits flying everywhere. He touched down in the mess, brushing off his hands.

"Special delivery," he called, grinning wide.

A drone lunged, tendril whipping fast. He snagged it, gave it a twist like he was wringing a towel, and lobbed it skyward—right into its pals, setting off a chain of bangs. The air buzzed, and a thin, creepy voice crackled from the rest. "Target: anomaly. Neutralize."

"Anomaly?" Metro Man laughed, loud and loose. "That's my fan club."

Superman landed nearby, zapping a drone with a quick burst of heat vision. "They're locked on you—your power's pulling them in."

"Guess I'm irresistible," Metro Man said, cracking his neck.

Diana stepped up, her shield catching a plasma bolt with a dull ring. "They're tightening up—look."

She nodded at the plant, where the drones were weaving tendrils into a glowing web, pulsing like a heartbeat. Metro Man grinned. "Time to cut the cord."

---

The fight rolled out raw and alive. The drones came hard—tendrils slashing, beams spitting. Metro Man wove through it, snagging one and spinning it wild before chucking it into a cluster—sparks rained down like a busted piñata. Another fired; he leaned into the blast, grinning as it washed over him, then swatted the drone flat.

Superman moved steady through the mess. "Keep it tight, Metro Man—we've got this." He punched a drone into the ground, then hauled a worker clear of falling debris, setting him down with a nod. "Stay low," he said, simple and sure.

Diana flowed like water, her sword carving through tendrils—snick, snick—clean and sharp. She flicked her lasso, hooking a pair of drones and tugging them into Metro Man's path. He smashed them with a quick one-two, tossing her a grin. "You're making this too easy, princess."

"Try harder," she fired back, a glint in her eye, quick and sharp.

The drones shifted, linking tendrils into a shimmering net—tight, buzzing, closing fast. Metro Man barreled in, tearing through—cables snapped, energy fizzled—but more poured from the plant's guts, green metal glinting. He floated up, fists ready, taking it in.

"Like roaches," he said, almost impressed.

Superman blasted a wave with heat vision, his voice level. "They're tied to the reactor—feeding off it. Cut the juice, they drop."

Diana pointed her sword at the core, a hulking glow in the chaos. "There. Shut it down."

Metro Man cracked his knuckles, grinning. "My kinda mess."

---

He dove into the reactor bay, drones swarming thick. One lashed out; he grabbed its tendril, yanked it loose, and watched sparks fly as it crumpled. Another unloaded a barrage—plasma sizzling against him. He laughed it off, unbothered, and slammed a fist into the reactor's shell—metal groaned, lights flickered.

Superman landed beside him, hauling a coolant tank. "I'll hold 'em off—go for it." He lobbed the tank into the swarm, ice blooming across drones, then snagged a falling pipe before it hit. "Make it quick," he said, steady.

Diana stepped in, her shield ringing as she blocked a shot aimed at Metro Man's back. "They're piling up—move."

Metro Man smirked, wrapping his hands around the reactor's core—a fat, glowing lump of power. He squeezed; steel bent, circuits whined, and the drones staggered, tendrils going limp. With a tug, he ripped it free—lights died, the plant went dark, and the swarm dropped, clattering like junk in the wind.

"Sweet dreams," he said, tossing the core into the rubble.

The air settled, smoke curling slow over the wreck. Superman clapped his shoulder, a small nod. "Good work, Metro Man. That's one less worry for these folks."

"Worry's my specialty," Metro Man said, winking.

Diana sheathed her sword, stepping closer. "They came for you. That's no fluke."

He shrugged, catching her gaze—deep, steady, pulling him in a little. "Guess I'm too good to skip."

Superman glanced at the horizon, his tone quiet but firm. "Brainiac's still out there—those drones weren't the end. You up for more?"

"Always," Metro Man said, stretching.

---

Back at the Hall, Batman laid it out—drones popping up across the map, Brainiac's network stirring. "He's not gone," Batman said, voice flat. "He's waiting."

"Let him wait," Metro Man replied, leaning back. "I've got plenty of punch left."

Diana lingered as the room thinned out, her shield resting easy. "You're a storm," she said, softer now, "but you get it done."

"Storm's my style," he said, grinning. "You're not mad about it, right?"

She crossed her arms, a small smile breaking loose. "Not today."

He laughed, easy and bright, and she turned to go—her shadow stretching across the floor. Superman swung by, calm and solid. "We're in this together now, Metro Man. Ready for what's next?"

"You know it," Metro Man said, glancing after Diana. The drones were down, but the game was heating up—and he was hooked.