AnnouncementI'm going to y out what you can expect from this novel and expin my reasons for writing it.

  First, I want to write something and finish it. I've written novels before under different accounts, but aside from short stories, I haven't actually completed one. I think this is because I'm intimidated by the sheer number of words required. So, I pn to finish this novel in under 100,000 words. It shouldn't be too hard...hopefully.

  Second, I'm following the show cannon here and not the comics, and I haven't even finished the test season. However, that won't matter much, as I pn to make some changes anyway. You'll find out what they are in the next couple of chapters.

  Third, I will only update when I'm free. I'm busy, and as much as I'd like to focus on this, life has other pns. So, I hope you'll bear with me. I pn to update at least once a week, but we'll see.

  That's about it. If I've missed anything, I'll write about it in ter chapters.

  Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

  The smell of gunpowder wafted through the air as gunshots rang out from the room.

  "Oh yeah, the boss is gonna love this pce, especially this baby," Ranker said, blowing on the smoking muzzle of the new IWI series pistol he had obtained before setting it down on the table, ammunition to the side.

  "And it won't jam during action, will it?" Wilson asked, sitting at a desk to the side, pouring himself a drink and nursing a bruise on his face. His rge figure made the chair creak.

  Ranker, with his graying hair and messy beard, scoffed. "That won't happen again, and it was because of the boss's movements back then."

  "Typical of you, old man, bme everyone except the gun," Iowa, sprawling on the sofa, chimed in, stretching like a cat. Just then, Jaime, having just taken a shower, passed by, shirtless and wearing only pants. Iowa batted her eyeshes and struck a seductive pose. Jaime ughed good-naturedly, stroking her hair as he grabbed a shirt from the side of the sofa, and Iowa purred against him.

  Ranker snorted at this, to which Iowa immediately retorted, "You're just jealous, old man. Not enough money in the world could buy this."

  "My two-hundred-dolr-an-hour hooker would disagree with you," Ranker countered.

  Soren snickered, his head buried in a bunch of papers. Realizing he had been heard, he immediately lowered his head in embarrassment. Iowa ughed. "See? Even skinny is ughing at you."

  Before Ranker could retort, Jaime spoke, "The boss should be coming soon, right?" The mention of their boss's imminent arrival silenced their banter.

  "I sent him the location, and he should be here—" Soren said, when footsteps cut him off. Ranker and Jaime immediately pointed their guns at the entrance as the familiar figure of the boss, with his trademark bck helmet, appeared.

  "Boss!" Wilson excimed, standing up. The others promptly followed suit."At ease," Chris said, waving a hand. The others rexed. He examined the pce. "Not bad."

  "Thanks, boss. It took a month of refurbishing to get it to this state," Jaime said, sitting beside Iowa. Ranker approached the boss and handed him a gun.

  "Boss, try this Tavor SAR. You'll love it," Ranker said, gesturing to the firing range. "I made sure the pce was soundproof and isoted. No sound will leak, even if we use a thousand bullets."

  Chris simply nodded, took the gun, and stepped toward the firing range. He pulled the trigger. His shoulders didn't move a bit from the recoil. He soon emptied the chamber. "Not bad," he commented. Ranker handed him another magazine, which he slotted in and fired.

  Soon, the gunshots subsided, and Chris spoke. "I'm gd you're settling in here fine." Nods were his answer.

  Chris turned toward them, setting the gun down on a nearby table.

  "I said before that when I asked you to come to New York, our organization would become more and more official, and I'm gd everyone came along."

  Smiles were exchanged. Wilson snorted at something. "Not all of our guys under us came with us..."

  "They aren't important anyway," Iowa said. Chris nodded. He didn't communicate with the people beneath them, and he didn't need to.

  "Boss, who are we hitting? There are a lot of targets in this big city..." Wilson said, an eager smile on his face.

  "But we've got to be careful, especially with the Seven active in the area," Soren said, his voice small, and with a wry smile.

  Everyone except Chris exchanged worried looks, but they all turned toward their boss, whom they all knew wasn't ordinary.

  "Hitting dens will be our second priority now. Our first priority..." Chris turned toward the TV pying on the wall.

  "[My deepest condolences to Robin Ward's family. I was chasing these...bank robbers and...]"

  "Investigate Vought and find all the dirty secrets you can," he continued. And as he expected, everyone paled at his words. Chris smiled beneath his mask.

  "Boss...that's...that's Vought!" Wilson, the most reckless of the group, excimed.

  "Yeah, boss, not to mention they have the government on their side. They also have the majority of the supes in the country in their hands..." Jaime said, leaning forward.

  "We won't be hitting them directly. Like I said, find all the dirty secrets they have, especially on the Seven, and destroy them with it."

  The group exchanged skeptical looks, and Chris didn't comment on this. He could almost see the questions they wanted to ask, and in the end, it was Jaime who voiced them.

  "Can we ask why, boss?"

  Chris smiled, but they wouldn't see it anyway beneath his mask, so he simply said mysteriously, "Because a mountain cannot have two tigers."

  No one said a word for a few seconds until Wilson spoke. "But we'll still be hitting dens, right?" Wilson asked after a moment of silence. It garnered wry smiles from the others, but it helped them rex.

  Soren raised his hand slowly. "Yes, we have money, but if we want to dabble in legal business...well, and we also don't have income, so we're basically losing money every day..."

  Chris ughed. "Of course, otherwise, how would we fund our operations? Don't worry, Soren, money will be coming soon."

  Then Chris spread his arms, losing his jubint attitude. The arrogance and pride that was inside him slowly emanated, straightening everyone's expression immediately. "You followed me after all this time, and I promised you, a path you wouldn't dream of achieving, and you will have it."

  Everyone exchanged looks, and a determined expression appeared on their faces.

  The cold was biting, so intense that no living creature could be seen for hundreds of miles. To Chris, however, it was merely a breeze.

  A strange ice formation loomed ahead, towering icy spires shaped like a mountain. He flew toward it and soon reached an ice wall. A light fshed, scanning him, and the entire ndscape shook. A door opened; the Last Ember, as he called it, revealed itself to him.

  He flew inside, quickly making his way to the Kryptonian archive of technologies.

  A hologram of a person suddenly appeared before him, but Chris simply passed through it.

  "I hope you realize the gravity of the responsibility on your shoulders now. When will you make a move?" the hologram said.

  "We've already talked about this. I have plenty of time."

  "That shouldn't mean you should put it off like a common man! I taught you better than that," the hologram excimed.

  Chris simply ignored the AI, knowing it had no real power over him.

  Soon he was inside the Kryptonian archive of technologies, in one of the boratories, where a floating watch could be seen.

  "Killian, is it finished?" Chris asked the other AI in the fortress.

  A voice responded in Kryptonian. "Yes, sir. Fully operational and ready to be used."

  Chris nodded. "Let's hope this works. Otherwise, Homender is in for a surprise..." Thinking of the expression Homender would have if he could see through him, he couldn't help but smirk as he fiddled with the watch and put it on.

  "I hope your little project will bear fruit," the hologram from before appeared before him again, and Chris stifled a sigh.

  "Which one? I have two," Chris said absentmindedly, his mind drifting to the Ember organization he had created years ago just for fun, which now had a decent scale, and the other project for which this watch would be needed.

  "Our hopes lie in you. Don't treat it as a joke!" the hologram bellowed, angry.

  "I am doing something," Chris said, looking at the hologram. "But I can't exactly bring more of our people without the Codex, right? I've searched for it for years, and still nothing."

  His words seemed to silence the hologram for a moment. Before it could say more, Chris flew away.

  "Lor-Zod, come back here!" his father bellowed, but Chris ignored him and flew away. Soon, he was out of the Arctic.

  Chris adjusted his tie as he walked into the rge Vought Tower, also known as the Seven's Tower, showing his ID to security and garnering wary looks from them in the process.

  Chris was used to it. He was tall, standing at 6'4", and he wasn't exactly skinny; muscles were obvious even through his suit. His well-combed bck hair, striking eyes, and chiseled face made him look like a Greek god.

  He walked toward the Talent Retions department, where the other interns could already be seen just inside the double gss doors.

  "Hey, Chris...you're almost te," Steve, his fellow intern, said to him with a smile. The others he wasn't familiar with; they were probably from other departments or cities, recently transferred here.

  "Almost isn't te," Chris said, standing by them, hands behind his back. People couldn't help but look at him as they passed by. Soon, a woman, with slightly askew clothes, messy hair, and seemingly on edge, appeared before them, quickly scanning them, her eyes widening slightly when they nded on him.

  "Well," she cleared her throat, pulling her gaze away from him. "You probably know who I am. Ashley Barrett, Director of Talent Retions."

  She smiled proudly, chin upward. "You are about to work at the greatest company in America."

  Proud smiles emerged from his fellow interns' faces as Ashley nodded in satisfaction.

  "Welcome to Vought."