Max_Striker
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Ch-37 Friendship Beam!!!
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 11:33:56 +0000 UTCEarth-16: Happy Harbor Observatory -- May 23, 2016, 2:47 PM
The emergency alert pierced through the quiet afternoon like a scream.
Raj looked up from his meditation, rainbow light cascading across his skin in patterns that seemed to bend reality itself. Beside him, Kiran straightened from her own practice, golden energy radiating from her form with the intensity of a miniature sun.
"Something's coming," she said, her planetary-level senses detecting the massive disturbance approaching Earth's atmosphere.
Raj's eyes flared with rainbow radiance as he expanded his consciousness beyond the planet's boundaries. What he saw made him grin—not with fear, but with anticipation.
"Warworld," he announced, rainbow equations dancing through the air around him. "Mongul's gladiator planet. Looks like someone wants to play."
Kiran's golden aura flared brighter, her power levels spiking to levels that could reshape continents. "How long has it been since we've had a proper challenge?"
"Too long," Raj replied, his rainbow light beginning to pulse with excitement. "Should we let the League handle it, or...?"
"Are you kidding?" Kiran laughed, her golden energy crackling with anticipation. "When's the next time a planet-killing fortress is going to show up in our backyard?"
The Watchtower -- 2:52 PM
"Status report," Superman's voice cut through the controlled chaos of the Justice League's orbital headquarters.
"It's Warworld," Martian Manhunter reported. "Mongul's mobile fortress. Sensors indicate weapons capable of planetary devastation."
Wonder Woman stepped forward, her hand moving to her lasso. "The League stands ready. What's our approach?"
"Direct assault is suicide," Batman said grimly. "Warworld's defenses are designed to counter superhuman attacks. Mongul's conquered entire sectors."
ARGUS Headquarters -- 2:55 PM
"Ma'am, we're detecting massive energy signatures from multiple sources," Agent Steve Trevor reported to Amanda Waller. "Warworld's charging its main batteries, but we're also picking up something else. Two power sources on Earth that are... unprecedented."
Waller's expression remained stone-faced. "Unprecedented how?"
"Planetary-scale output, ma'am. Whatever or whoever these sources are, they're operating at levels that should be impossible for terrestrial beings."
Happy Harbor Observatory -- 3:15 PM
Raj and Kiran stood outside the observatory, their combined auras painting the afternoon sky in ribbons of rainbow and gold.
"So," Kiran said, golden light beginning to coalesce around her in increasingly complex patterns, "want to try that construct thing we've been theorizing about?"
"You mean the Mech?" Raj grinned, rainbow energy spiraling around him in impossible geometries. "I thought you'd never ask."
Unlike their previous careful experiments, this wasn't about necessity or desperation. This was deciding to have some fun and let loose.
Kiran raised her hands, and golden light erupted from her form like a controlled supernova. But instead of raw destruction, the energy shaped itself with impossible precision—matter and energy bending to her will as easily as clay in a sculptor's hands.
The construct began to manifest not as a slow build-up. Solstice Prime materialized in seconds—fifty meters of crystallized light and hardened will, its surface rippling with patterns that hurt to look at directly. This wasn't just a construct; it was a localized rewriting of physical law.
"Show-off," Raj laughed, adding his own power to the mix. Where Kiran's golden light gave Solstice Prime form and substance, Raj's power gave it impossible capabilities.
They stepped into the construct not through any physical doorway, but by simply deciding they were inside it.
Through Solstice Prime's enhanced senses, they looked up at Warworld's approaching bulk and felt... disappointed.
"Is that it?" Kiran asked, genuinely puzzled. "I was expecting something more impressive."
Warworld -- 3:45 PM
"Lord Mongul," one of his lieutenants gasped, "sensors cannot get consistent readings on the machine."
Mongul studied the approaching figure through Warworld's most advanced detection systems. What he saw made his battle-scarred face break into the first genuine smile he'd worn in centuries.
"Finally," he rumbled. "Something interesting."
The fortress began to transform, its spherical hull opening like a mechanical flower to reveal the vast colosseum within.
"Attention, primitive world," Mongul's voice boomed across every communication frequency. "I am Mongul, ruler of Warworld, destroyer of civilizations. Send your champion to face me in single combat, and perhaps I will make your world's end swift."
The response came not from Earth's governments or its Justice League, but from the construct itself—a voice that seemed to harmonize with itself, carrying overtones of barely contained power and genuine amusement.
"Hello, Mongul," the voice said, each word rippling with force. "We've heard about you. Conqueror of worlds, destroyer of civilizations, yadda yadda yadda. Very impressive resume."
Mongul's smile faltered slightly. In all his centuries of conquest, no one had ever responded to his introductions with such casual dismissal.
"We're having a bit of a slow day," the voice continued. "Mind if we play with your toys?"
Warworld's Arena
Solstice Prime descended into Warworld's gladiator pit with all the casual grace of a god stepping down from heaven.
"So," Mongul's voice echoed across the arena, "Earth sends children to face me."
"Children?" Kiran's voice emerged from the construct with mock offense. "Nexus, did he just call us children?"
"I think he did," Raj replied, equally amused. "Should we show him what happens when 'children' have powers?"
The battle began not with Mongul's attack, but with Solstice Prime's casual gesture. The construct raised one hand, and gravity in the arena simply... changed. Not reversed, not negated, but altered so that 'down' was now whatever direction the construct found most aesthetically pleasing.
Mongul found himself floating sideways, his millennia of combat experience suddenly useless.
"Physics," Raj explained conversationally, "is really more of a suggestion when you get to our level."
"Like speed limits," Kiran added. "Technically they exist, but nobody really expects you to follow them."
Mongul launched himself at the construct, moving fast enough to break the sound barrier several times over.
Solstice Prime caught him. Not through superior reflexes or combat training, but by simply deciding that Mongul's trajectory would end in their hand. Reality obligingly made it so, depositing the conqueror in the construct's massive palm like a living action figure.
"Aw, he's adorable when he's angry," Kiran cooed. "Look at those little fists!"
"I am the destroyer of worlds! I have conquered the Vegan System!" Mongul raged.
"That's nice, dear," Raj said in the tone someone might use with an overexcited child. "Have you tried knitting? Very soothing for the temperament."
Mongul finally managed to break free, channeling centuries of conquest and rage. He struck at Solstice Prime with force that could shatter continents.
The construct caught his punch with one finger.
"Is that it?" Kiran asked, sounding genuinely disappointed. "All that buildup about conquering worlds, and that's your best shot?"
The casual dismissal broke something in Mongul's psyche. He began to glow with power, accessing reserves he'd never needed before.
"I will show you destruction!" he roared. "I will show you the power that ended the Argo Empire!"
Energy began to build around him—not just personal power, but the combined might of Warworld itself. The fortress's weapons systems came online, adding their planet-killing capabilities to Mongul's assault.
"Oh good," Kiran said brightly, "he's finally getting serious."
"Should we get serious too?" Raj asked.
"Nah," Kiran replied. "Let's see what happens when we get creative instead."
Mongul's attack was everything he'd promised—a torrent of destruction that combined his personal power with Warworld's most devastating weapons. Energy that could boil oceans howled toward Solstice Prime.
The construct didn't dodge, didn't block, didn't even seem particularly concerned. Instead, it did something that broke the minds of everyone watching.
It caught the energy beam. Not with a shield or a barrier, but with its bare hand—fifty meters of crystallized light simply reaching out and grabbing planetary-level destruction like someone catching a baseball.
"Huh," Raj's voice emerged from the construct. "That's actually pretty warm. Kiran, want to see what happens if we throw it back?"
"Oh, good idea! But let's improve it first."
The energy beam began to change. Golden light flowed into it, followed by rainbow light that rewrote its fundamental nature. What had been pure destruction became something else.
"There we go," Kiran said with satisfaction. "Much better. Now it's a friendship beam!"
"A friendship beam?" Raj asked, barely containing his laughter.
"It'll make him really, really want to be our friend," Kiran explained. "And also, probably redecorate Warworld in pastels."
Solstice Prime wound up like a pitcher and hurled the transformed energy beam back at Warworld.
The beam struck Warworld's core, and the massive fortress began to... change. Its dark, intimidating hull shifted to cheerful yellows and pinks. Weapon emplacements transformed into decorative gardens. The gladiator arena became a recreational park, complete with playground equipment.
Mongul stared in horror as his seat of power became aggressively wholesome.
"What have you done?" he whispered.
"Improved the feng shui," Kiran replied cheerfully. "Really, the place was so dark and depressing. Now it's much more welcoming!"
"Also," Raj added, "we may have accidentally made you incapable of feeling hostile emotions for the next few centuries."
Mongul tried to summon his rage but found himself instead overwhelmed with an inexplicable desire to apologize for all the civilizations he'd destroyed and maybe start a community garden.
"This is actually quite pleasant," he said with wonder. "Have I been approaching conflict resolution all wrong?"
"Probably," both pilots said in unison.
Earth
Raj and Kiran materialized outside the renovated Warworld (now called the "Friendship Station") in a flash of rainbow-gold light. They'd left Mongul happily planning the station's first intergalactic peace conference.
"Well," Kiran said, stretching, "that was fun. We should do it again sometime."
As they prepared to head home, two figures approached from the tree line—a red-haired archer and a pale young man in a black costume.
"Really?" came the voice—half annoyed, half relieved. "That's your grand re-entry?"
Raj turned.
Roy Harper stood on the rooftop's edge, hands on hips, bow slung behind him. Match stood a few feet back, arms crossed, silent but not cold.
Raj gave a slow grin. "You expected something quieter?"
Roy snorted. "I expected something. A postcard. A Zeta-ping. Not a gold god-punch knocking Mongul out of orbit."
Match stepped forward. "You're real."
His voice was quiet. No accusation. Just fact.
"I thought we lost you."
Raj looked between them. His expression softened.
"You almost did."
They didn't rush it. Didn't hug. Didn't explode into dramatic speeches.
Roy looked Kiran over. "That's a compliment. We don't get many glowing constructs showing up that don't try to vaporize us."
"She's not mine," Raj said. "She's her own."
"But he did help bring me back from the dead," Kiran added, casual. "So we've got a bit of history."
Match finally moved beside Raj, looking him over.
"So," Roy said, breaking the moment, "that thing you flew in on…"
Kiran smirked. "Solstice Prime. My masterpiece."
Roy looked to Raj. "She always this dramatic?"
Raj gave her a sideways glance. "She built a thirty-meter light-construct just to punch a warlord."
"I was venting," Kiran replied.
They stood together in the quiet that followed—rooftop debris around them, city lights blinking in the distance.
Match looked up. "So… what happens now?"
Raj exhaled.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But I'm here. And I'm staying for a while."
Roy smiled. Not his usual smirk, but something more weathered. More real.
"Good. Because the world's been weird without you, man."
Match nodded once. "Glad you're back."
Raj looked between them.
"Me too."
They didn't need anything more than that.
Above them, the stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky—and among them, just barely visible to the naked eye, a pastel space station where a former galactic tyrant was learning to knit.
The age of Solstice Prime had begun with laughter.
