CHAPTER EIGHT - REBECCA

The Cauldron base was eerily quiet as Rebecca entered the briefing room. The smooth, sterile walls reflected the soft hum of machinery, and the faint glow from the screens cast long shadows across the faces of her colleagues. Eidolon was seated stiffly, his arms crossed, impatience radiating from his posture. Legend, by contrast, sat with measured calm, his attention fixed on Alexandria as she took her place at the head of the table. Beside him, Doctor Mother sat with an air of quiet authority, her expression unreadable, while the Number Man sat at the end of the table—idly tapping away on his laptop, though his attention flicked up occasionally. 

Contessa’s absence was conspicuous, though not unexpected.

On the central screen was a paused image, a frozen moment from their first encounter: Superman standing amidst the wreckage left by Leviathan, his red cape fixed mid-flutter behind his back.

Alexandria broke the silence. “Superman.” She let the name hang in the air, the gravity of it clear. “That’s what he calls himself, and he acts the part—idealistic, unshakable, and invested in helping people. But we all know appearances can be deceiving.”

Legend crossed his arms. “I was there for that first conversation, and I’ll admit: he struck me as genuine. His concern for the civilians, the way he spoke about responsibility—it wasn’t an act. But I wasn’t there for the other encounters.”

Eidolon wasn't having any of it. “Get on with it. What do we know about the cape?”

Alexandria frowned.

“Not a cape,” Legend reminded him gently. “By all accounts, he didn't trigger. He’s something else entirely.”

Alexandria cleared her throat, drawing their attention. “He claims to be an alien. From a world called Krypton. It’s consistent with what little we’ve been able to observe.”

“Claims,” Number Man interjected, his tone clipped. “There’s no way to verify it. Clairvoyant can’t locate his Earth, so our ability to predict his actions or motives is significantly hampered. Did he provide any corroborating evidence of his origins?”

Alexandria shook her head. “He didn’t need to. His powers alone are evidence enough. His strength, flight, speed, heat vision—all of it is on a scale we’ve never seen before. Even our most powerful capes pale in comparison. Thinkers have reviewed every interaction he’s had with capes and civilians. Their conclusion? He isn’t lying about his origins, at least not directly. Any omissions are likely personal or related to the security of his homeworld.”

Eidolon frowned, his voice tense. “And this ‘homeworld’? What do we know about it?”

“Very little,” Alexandria admitted. “He described it as a world similar to ours but technologically advanced in ways that are hard to quantify. Further discussions revealed he was part of a group called the Justice League—a coalition of individuals like himself, who act as protectors of their planet.”

“Individuals like himself?” Legend’s voice was calm, but there was a note of unease beneath it. “Are we talking about more people on his level? Another Earth filled with capes as strong as him?”

“Potentially, yes,” Alexandria replied. “But if his claims are true, they use their power to maintain peace, not dominance. He seems genuinely invested in helping others, and his actions so far have supported that.”

“His intervention during the Leviathan attack supports that narrative. His actions were calculated for maximum efficiency and minimal collateral damage. Yet, it raises the question—why is he here? And why now?” The Number Man spoke. 

The Doctor spoke for the first time, her fingers interlaced in her front. “Did he mention how he arrived here?”

“Not explicitly,” Alexandria said. “He claims he doesn't know how it happened, though interdimensional travel doesn't seem to be a new concept to him. Still, he's made it clear that he wants to return to his world as soon as possible, but he’s willing to assist us while he’s here.”

“And his power? You said it doesn’t follow the rules we understand.”

“It doesn’t,” Alexandria confirmed. She tapped another control, showing footage of Superman fighting Leviathan. “His strength and durability are unparalleled. And from what he says, there's no limit to the amount of energy he can harness from the sun to fuel his abilities—something we haven’t seen replicated by any parahuman. Additionally, he demonstrated too many powers, and unlike trumps, has access to them at all times.”

Eidolon’s frown deepened. “How does he compare to Scion? To… us?” 

There was a heavy silence before Alexandria spoke. “That’s a comparison we’ve all considered. On the surface, there are similarities—his immense power, his otherworldly origins. But his behavior is fundamentally different. Scion acts with detachment, almost indifference. Superman, on the other hand, is deeply empathetic. He intervenes directly, talks to people, and helps them rebuild. He’s… human, in a way that Scion never was.”

Doctor Mother’s gaze sharpened. “And his potential use in our efforts against the Endbringers?”

“That’s something I wanted to discuss,” Alexandria said. “He wanted to know about Leviathan—what it is, where it comes from. He suspects there’s more to the Endbringers than what we’re telling the public.”

Eidolon frowned. “Did you tell him anything?”

“No,” Alexandria said sharply. “But he isn’t an idiot; he can see the gaps in our answers, and it’s clear he’s trying to connect the dots. He pressed me on why the PRT wasn’t more coordinated in its response and why there wasn’t a unified global effort to stop the Endbringers.”

“Did he mention Scion?”

Alexandria nodded. “Briefly. He asked if Scion was an ally and why he wasn’t more proactive. I gave him the standard line: that Scion operates on his own terms and intervenes as he sees fit. But he didn’t seem satisfied with that answer.”

Eidolon’s jaw tightened. “If he keeps digging, he’s going to find things we don’t want him to know. If he decides we’re part of the problem? Or if his ‘Justice League’ comes looking for him?”

Alexandria’s thoughts raced, picking on Eidolon’s demeanour throughout the meeting. Was his worry about the potential fallout if Superman turned against them just strategic caution? Or was there something more?

Was Eidolon jealous of Superman?

Her frown deepened as she replayed his words in her mind, sharp and edged with frustration, the notion planting itself like an itch she couldn’t ignore. It would be unlike Eidolon to openly admit such feelings, even to himself. But Alexandria had seen enough in their long years together to recognize the signs of someone measuring themselves against an impossible standard.

Superman was a being of extraordinary power, capable of feats Eidolon could only replicate with deliberate effort and focus. Worse, Superman’s abilities came without the burden of instability, without the creeping doubt that plagued Eidolon in his quieter moments. And then there was Superman’s image—the way people looked at him with immediate, unshakable trust, the kind of admiration even the Protectorate had struggled to earn.

Eidolon, for all his power and experience, had never been a figure of universal adoration. Respected? Absolutely. Feared? Often. But trusted? Not in the way Superman was, and never as effortless.

A part of her sympathized. They had fought for years to protect a world on the brink of collapse, shouldering unimaginable burdens, and making sacrifices no one else could comprehend. To see someone embody everything they had worked for, everything the Protectorate had been built to achieve—and to do it unintentionally and effortlessly.

However, jealousy was a luxury they couldn't afford.

Whatever Eidolon felt, it would have to be addressed. But not now. Not yet. There were more pressing matters, and for better or worse, Superman was part of them.

“We need to ensure that doesn’t happen,” Alexandria said, meeting his gaze. “Building trust with him is paramount. The PRT has already begun making overtures, and he seems open to collaboration. But we’ll need to tread carefully.”

Legend glanced at Eidolon, his tone quiet but firm. “If he decides that, then it means we’ve failed to make him understand. Superman isn’t looking for enemies, Eidolon. He’s looking for solutions.”

“And what happens when he decides his solutions are better than ours?” Eidolon countered hotly. “You saw what he did to Leviathan. If he decides we’re in the way, there’s nothing we can do to stop him.”

Number man spoke up again, tone as detached as always. If he had noticed Eidolon’s jealousy, he didn't show it. “There’s another factor to consider. His actions against Leviathan have already altered public perception. He’s become a symbol—one that people might rally behind. That could destabilize our control over the narrative.”

Alexandria sighed, leaning back in her chair. “He’s a symbol, yes, but he’s also a person. And people can be influenced. We need to engage with him directly, bring him into the fold. If we can guide him—”

“If we can control him,” Eidolon interrupted, his tone dark.

Legend shook his head. “We don’t need to control him. We need to trust him—or at least give him a reason to trust us. If we approach him with hostility, we’ll lose any chance of cooperation.”

The Doctor’s gaze was distant, her mind clearly working through a dozen possibilities. “Trust is a two-way street, but we also need contingencies. Contessa is already working on projections involving him. Until then, we proceed cautiously.”

Alexandria gestured toward the screen. “He’s already made it clear he won’t sit on the sidelines. If we don’t give him answers, he’ll find them himself. And if he uncovers the truth about Cauldron…”

The silence in the room was heavy.

Eidolon finally spoke, his voice low. “If he does, we’ll have to act. One way or another.”

Legend’s expression hardened. “Acting against him isn’t an option. Not unless he forces our hand. And if that happens, we’ve already lost.”

The Doctor stood, her movements slow and deliberate. “We all understand the stakes. Superman represents both a potential ally and a potential catastrophe. Our next steps will determine which he becomes.”

“Or how best to stop him, if it comes to that,” Eidolon added.

Legend shot him a sharp look but sighed. “For now, we should focus on supporting him while we gather more information. If he’s as benevolent as he seems, he could be the ally we’ve been waiting for.”

The quiet that settled in the room after his words was weighted with an unspoken tension, but before it could persist, Alexandria broke it. 

“Where’s Contessa?”

"If good relationships with Superman is going to be a goal, I decided to ask her to remove a certain loose thread in Brockton Bay," she replied with a professional tone, as if she hadn't just sentenced a man to certain death, exile or worse. “He may not know the specifics of Coil’s operations, but he’s perceptive. So I want to ensure that by the time Superman—or anyone else—questions the events in Brockton Bay, there will be nothing left to trace. And, if necessary, we can frame it as an independent conflict. Coil’s actions are dubious enough to stand on their own.”

Legend crossed his arms. “Still feels risky.”

Number Man adjusted his glasses. “Risk is inherent, but it can be mitigated. The probability of this operation drawing his attention is negligible if Contessa follows the Path. As for the capes he had under his employment, the Travelers and Undersiders, their involvement is a secondary concern. They’re minor players in the larger scheme.”

Alexandria’s voice took on an edge. “Minor, maybe, but not irrelevant. The Travelers, especially, could become a problem if Noelle’s condition worsens or if they act out in desperation. Superman has already demonstrated a willingness to intervene in matters he deems humanitarian. If he gets wind of Noelle’s situation…”

The Doctor interjected, her tone decisive. “Then we use it. We position ourselves as the ones who are actively working on a solution, regardless of how unlikely success is. It gives us leverage, a way to guide his perception of us as allies, not adversaries.”

Finally, Eidolon sighed, standing. “I don’t like it. Any of it. But I’ll defer to Contessa’s judgment for now. Just remember—Superman isn’t the only problem we have to worry about. Behemoth and the Simurgh won’t wait for us to sort out our relationship with him.”

Alexandria nodded. “Agreed. We stay on high alert. Whatever the Endbringers’ silence means, we can’t afford to let our guard down. And as for Superman… we tread carefully. Very carefully.”

The Doctor stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Then it’s settled. Contessa will handle Brockton Bay. We focus on preparing for the inevitable, whether it comes from an Endbringer, Superman, or something else.”

The group dispersed, each leaving through their respective Doors. Alexandria lingered for a moment, staring at the frozen image of Superman on the screen. He was smiling, a confident, beatific expression that seemed to radiate a warm reassurance. 

A symbol of hope—or the harbinger of Cauldron’s downfall.

Time would tell.