C R A S H ! ! ! That’s all it takes to give away his general position.

  “What the–!?” An airborne vehicle that finally lands and makes an ungraceful landing draws the alert attention of the other merry super-delinquents from before. Leading the charge, unsurprisingly, is none other than Amaxon Thunder herself.

  “C’mon, that’s probably the fake Kon-IL makin’ a ruckus.” The ravenette reasons, beckoning her gang along as she flies toward the direction the car likely came from.

  Meanwhile, Kon-EL’s fight with his evil counterpart continues on, mostly driven by the villainous kryptonian’s pride and short fuse of a temper.

  “C’mon, man…” Kon-EL begins, pausing only to sway his body left, then right, to avoid telegraphing big swings aiming for his face. The second evade motion positions him at the other’s flank, though the anger-driven evil-doer is quick to follow up with a 210° spinning backfist - an attempt the Prime Earth hero stops in its track by catching the teens forearm. With that new grip, Kon-Espins 180° himself and throws Kon-IL 20 feet away.

  “This isn’t even a fair fight. There’s clearly a gap here.” He finally finishes that thought while staring with a look of pity on his expression. It’s certainly true in all honesty. The Earth 3 Kryptonian is only 5’7 and just slightly slimmer, while Kon-EL has him beat in height, muscle mass, physical maturity, and evidently capabilities.

  “T’ha!? “ The evil punk recovers as quickly as he can after the hero tosses him away, then retaliates even swiffer.

  “GAP THIS, poser!” A discharge of heat vision blasts from his scowling eyes and manages to meet its mark AND send Kon-EL soaring backwards from its shoving impact. Hungry for the opportunity to turn the tide dramatically, Kon-IL zips forward at the speed of sound to take a mighty straight-punch for the hero’s face. However, Kon-EL hasn’t lost his keen awareness, and easily deflects the attack by merely flinging his arm to smack into the forearm of the fist coming his way to knock it off course.

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  “That’s not gonna cut it, champ.” A firm statement that leaves the hero’s lips as his right hand reaches out to grip the troublemaker’s shirt, turns his body halfway toward the opposite direction, and then lifts his adversary overhead to slam him down to the asphalt below with a powerful toss.

  “G’UH!” The villain lands on his back with a grimace as a shallow crater cradles his body underneath him.

  “Fuckin’ asshole!!” He bellows with a snarling glare. Just as he opens his eyes again, he witnesses the hero receiving a drop-kick to the back.

  “Don’t get too cocky, fly-boy!” The ravenette Cassandra barks as she delivers a lancing double kick to the hero’s back with all of her strength, hurling him face-first into a building at the speed of light. A sight that makes Kon-IL jump up in excitement.

  “Cassy!” He shouts before flying up to her level.

  “Oh, Conner! So you ARE actually back after all. Had fun hangin’ with your mom?” She asks almost teasingly with a grin.

  “Yeeeeah, but I’m friggin’ glad to be back in good ole’ Metropolis! But anyway, do ya know what this means? I was right about there actually being a multi-verse!” He enthusiastically tells her.

  “Well ain’t that about a motha’ fuckin’ bitch… I thought you were just sufferin’ from huffing too much paint fumes or some shit. Turns out, there really is something as crazy as a multitude of worlds out there.” She concedes and shrugs her shoulders.

  In the midst of their conversation, Kon-EL eventually approaches the hole from within the building and peeks his head out to observe for a moment. Seeing the group shift their attention toward catching up with the Kon of their world, the hero discreetly departs from the scene again and heads off in any direction that isn’t toward them.

  “Man… I’m soooo over this lousy place.” Kon-EL comments. However, luck isn’t completely on his side just yet–

  “And just where are YOU headin’ off to in sucha hurry, huh?” A masculine voice asks. Kon-EL brings himself to a floating stop just a mere second or two before a figure in blue descends to obscure his path. A crimson cape draping behind broad shoulders, a spit curl hangs from a head of jet black hair, red boots adorn the figure’s feet, and a bold red ’U’ sits upon the upper center of his chest.

  “Somewhere quiet mostly… I’m not lookin’ for trouble, man.” Kon-EL answers with a look of jaded skepticism.

  “Wha…? You think I’m here ta’ beat ya or something? I haven’t seen you in a little while, is all. Don’t get so worked up.” The older male reassures with an urban New Yorker accent.

  “Huh?” Kon-EL arches a brow.

  “It’s been a little while, but there’s no way ya forgot about your pops already, have ya?” The stranger remarks while crossing his arms. However, the answer does nothing to make this moment less confusing. Fortunately, there’s no time left to even consider asking any questions. The watch on the hero’s wrists begins beeping to alert him. Just as he lifts his arm to look at the display on it, that same light from before envelopes him again and sends him off to who-knows-where.