WordGirl vs Brightburn is an episode of DarthStrangelove's Death Battles. It features WordGirl from the PBS series of the same name and Brightburn from the film of the same name.
Description[]
PBS vs Sony! Tonight, in a good old-fashioned bout of good vs. evil, two alien superkids duel to the death for the very fate of Earth. Does the living dictionary have what it takes to save humanity from certain doom or will this prove to be but a final obstacle in her opponent’s quest to take the world?
Introduction[]
(Cue Invader - Jim Johnston or Wiz and Boomstick - Brandon Yates (reader’s choice))
Wiz: Since the conception of the great Superman, long have tales been told of extraterrestrial miracle children finding themselves on Earth, whether they be blessings from the stars or curses from the cosmos.
Boomstick: Ethics be damned, we’re having kids fight!
Wiz: Becky Botsford, daughter of Lexicon and defender of Fair City called WordGirl.
Boomstick: Brandon Breyer, son of darkness and conqueror of worlds called Brightburn.
Boomstick: He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick!
Wiz: And it’s our job to analyze their weapons, armor and skills to find out who would win… a Death Battle.
WordGirl[]
(Cue Worlds Apart - 4th Front)
Wiz: Somewhere in the far reaches of outer space, there was an advanced civilization of intellectuals and geniuses. Among their other supernatural qualities, their race’s defining trait was that they were naturally gifted in learning and practicing all forms of communication and language. Their collective intellect had allowed them to transcend the limits of any technology known to us on Earth to such an extent that their unified air force was fully composed of starships that could travel across the galaxy. The homeworld of these beings is only known in human tongues by one name: Lexicon.
Boomstick: Wait a sec, it’s called Lexi-what-
Wiz: Very little is known to us about the history or maximum potential of these incredible specimens, though we do know of one event that would lead to our discovery of their existence.
Boomstick: Okay, so this wasn’t an April Fools prank when you talked with me about this, we’re actually doing this-
Wiz: One fateful day, a loyal sentient simian native to their homeworld, decorated Lexiconian Air Force veteran and the greatest starpilot in all the cosmos, Captain Huggy Face…
Boomstick: (keeping himself from laughing) The space monkey’s name is what-
Wiz: …departed the planet on his trusty vessel. To his surprise, however, he found a Lexiconian infant who had unwittingly stowed away on his ship. Unfortunately, the child suddenly appearing in his cockpit had startled him enough to distract him from his flight course, causing the starship to collide with a meteoroid and spin out of control.
Boomstick: How does a monkey even learn how to drive or pilot things anyway-
Wiz: (cutting Boomstick off) Acting fast to save both their lives, the captain managed to safely crash-land the ship on a world far, far away from their home: planet Earth.
Boomstick: The only place that aliens and UFOs ever seem to land on-
Wiz: (cutting Boomstick off again) Leaving the mostly intact ship and carrying the baby girl in his arms, he stumbled upon a couple of kind humans, Tim and Sally Botsford, who decided to adopt them both, the captain as their pet monkey, Bob, and the child as their own daughter, Becky.
Boomstick: How is the part about the hippies on a picnic deciding on a whim to adopt an astronaut chimp and an alien baby what I have the least questions about-
Wiz: While her foster parents were kept unaware of her true heritage, the child’s supernatural abilities and intellectual curiosity bloomed from even that early age, growing from the moment she read a newspaper on their porch upon coming to her new home.
Boomstick: Are you even listening to me? Why do you sound so invested in this-
Wiz: As she grew up, with the help of her primate companion, as well as the teachings of brilliant scientist Professor Steven Boxleitner, Becky Botsford would assume another life in addition to her coexistence with humanity, one where she would use her knowledge and power for the cause of justice with the captain by her side… Come on, say the line.
Boomstick: (sighs) Fine…, From that day onward, all evil-doers of Fair City would fear the name of their new superhero: WordGirl.
(Cue WordGirl Theme Instrumental - WordGirl OST)
Boomstick: A PBS cartoon on this show… this better be good, Wiz.
Wiz: Just you wait, Boomstick. To start off-
Boomstick: Wait, wait, let me guess. Her superpower is proper vocabulary or super reading or some shit like that.
Wiz: Well, sort of. She does have an encyclopedic knowledge of at least every word in the English language and her brain can process information so fast she can read an entire novel in mere seconds-
Boomstick: Knew it, lame…
Wiz: But her supernatural intelligence is only the main expertise of her kind that belies their raw Kryptonian-esque power.
Boomstick: Yeah, yeah- wait…, their what now?
Wiz: Thanks to her Lexiconian heritage, even at such a young age, WordGirl has harnessed a laundry list of abilities over the years: super strength that allows her to toss around giant robots the size of skyscrapers like ragdolls, super speed faster than sound, enhanced senses such as super hearing and sight, frost breath, flight, resistance to mind control thanks to modifications to her helmet, the ability to drill through the ground and travel underground uninhibited, and a sonic scream that can shatter any glass in its range, if not outright cause hearing damage or worse.
Boomstick: Oh…, okay, that’s way cooler. More on the Kryptonian stuff, please.
Wiz: She can also breathe and maintain normal body temperature both underwater and in the vacuum of space with ease, sometimes flying laps around the Earth’s orbit as part of an exercise game with her, shall we say, reluctant sidekick, where she dropped him from above the city skyline to see how many laps she could complete before catching him. Her most recent and well-known record of doing so is five laps around the entire circumference of the Earth, with each lap only taking several seconds at most.
(WordGirl: Phew, five times! I beat my record! And I even stopped to get you a (sing-song voice) souvenir! Looks good.)
Boomstick: Geez, that fighter ace monkey’s been through some shit taking care of this kid. I can see it in his eyes… no amount of bananas is gonna make him forget all the pain.
Wiz: In a modest addition to the inhuman intelligence and raw power she wields, Becky can sit on clouds like they were chairs and also has a degree of meta-knowledge.
(Music stops, record scratches)
Boomstick: Um… come again?
Wiz: Oh, well…, she is at least aware that she and her world are part of a TV show, as she frequently interacts with her series’ narrator and knows of PBS itself. She can also interact with the fourth wall to a further extent, as she is able to catch and look into screen cutaways.
Boomstick: No… no…
Wiz: Wait, wait, don’t worry, no Deadpools today. I worked it all out with her before we went live. Sweet kid.
Boomstick: Wait, so does that mean she knows this show or about the fact she’s gonna-
Wiz: (shushing him in panic before whispering) Not so loud, she might hear you. I told the intern to keep her busy for a reason. You think she’d come here if she knew? Wait ‘till after we’re done covering her.
(Cue No More Words - 8-Bit Universe)
Boomstick: Right… Anyway, apparently, this kid’s had years of combat experience in a variety of scenarios with a wide variety of supervillains including: a dude with a sandwich for a head, her classmate who can hypnotize people with a flute, a businessman in a suit who specializes in mind control, an old lady with some kinda magic yarn, Weird Al in spandex, a dude who can shoot meat out of his hands from… his own pocket dimension?..., a Hulk rip off, a lady on a glider who does nothing but ask questions, a game show host, a guy with nothing but a rope, a disgruntled office employee who can copy anything, a mad scientist obsessed with cheese, and a geeky British kid who builds giant robots… who also has some serious stalker vibes.
Wiz: Along with her regular rogues gallery, she’s also gone head to head with adversaries that have powers similar or even comparable to hers, such as Rhyme and most notably, the one she learned how to harness her frost breath from, Miss Power.
Boomstick: Is that lady’s face half-reptilian? Thought that was just a quirk my ex-wife had, but I guess that’s a common thing.
Wiz: This “superhero” turned villain was the one who came closest to besting the unbeatable WordGirl, using demoralization and psychological warfare to gain an advantage in their first bout and then try to take over the planet.
Boomstick: Definitely sounds like my ex-wife. But as soon as the little tyke got her groove back and ignored Miss Power’s roast game, she trounced the lizard blonde and sent her running for the space hills.
Wiz: On top of her physical versatility and combat prowess, the living dictionary has a wide arsenal of crime-fighting tools at her disposal, such as her communications belt and the still-functioning parts of the captain’s ship they use as a hideout, complete with a database of every criminal in the city as well as a vast library that includes an entire volume of tactics and techniques developed by past generations of Lexiconian warriors.
Boomstick: But besides all that, she’s got a whole arsenal of neat souvenirs and gizmos from plenty of her villains, like most, if not every single ray gun ever developed by Dr. Two-Brains, who just so happens to be her old mentor Boxleitner after he got his brain fused with a mouse. Bummer. He made a gun that turns things into goop, an anti-gravity ray, a shrink ray, an amnesia ray, a sonic ray gun, a snooze ray that puts people in an indefinite sleep, and a transport ray used for teleportation. But around 90% of his guns just… turn things into specific kinds of cheese. Okay, that guy needs to branch out more with his firearms tech.
Wiz: Plenty of other inventions have found their way to her hideout as well, such as Two-Brains’ Mecha-Mouse suit designed for him to be able to fight WordGirl in direct combat and Mousezilla, a metallic kaiju created in a partnership between the doctor and Tobey McCallister, who specializes in building and programming such machinery. The boy’s skill in engineering and relentless drive to one-up her led him to eventually build his most powerful creation, which ironically now serves as the deadliest addition to her gallery. WordBot was designed to be a robotic copy of WordGirl, at least slightly physically superior to the original in every way, only able to be defeated later by their combined efforts when its batteries were removed, as she could not defeat it directly.
Boomstick: He made a robot of his waifu out of spite? Starting to think that my “stalker” comment wasn’t that far off.
Wiz: Well…, one time, he did trap her inside a giant robot made in her image in order to force her to go on dates with him.
(Awkward silence)
Boomstick: …PBS got way fuckin’ weirder than I remember…
Boomstick: Moving on, while this handy armory could be useful in certain scenarios, WordGirl generally doesn’t need any of it to whoop her villains’ asses, especially as it’s confirmed that she intentionally holds back and lets herself be put in danger to make it more entertaining for the audience watching at home when she showed another kid supe, Kid Math, the ropes of the hero business. She’s tough enough to catch a giant incoming meteor with one hand without breaking a sweat and holding it in place while taking press questions before throwing it into the ocean. I feel bad for that background squid.
Wiz: Considering her size relative to the meteor’s own, the distance it traveled, and the speed at which it hurtled towards the Earth, by our calculations, this would mean that WordGirl had withstood a force worth just under 47,000 megatons of TNT, enough to level a large island, let alone take out Fair City.
Boomstick: And about those skyscraper-sized robots she throws around: yeah, one time, she tossed a bunch of them all the way into the fucking sun in seconds and made this big-ass explosion!
Wiz: Given the explosion’s diameter compared to the sun’s own, the amount of force she would have had to dish out to cause such a combustion is about 5.06 quadrillion megatons of TNT.
Boomstick: That’s enough to blow a small planet to smithereens or destroy the moon 168 times over! I thought all she did was talk about words and shit, Jesus Christ!
Wiz: Did I mention that one time that she flew from the moon to the sun like it was an average Tuesday?
Boomstick: Okay… so I know Superman gets his powers from the sun and all that. Are the Lexi-whatchamacallits solar-powered or something? How did this 11-year-old get so powerful?
Wiz: I’m glad you asked, Boomstick. You see, the Lexiconian race has a quite unique power source. Given that Becky’s strength seems to grow the more and more words - and hieroglyphs, as she can read those, too - she becomes familiar with, the source of ever growing power for her species is likely to be exactly their main talent: their unparalleled affinity for linguistics in any form.
Boomstick: …Are… are you fucking with me right now?…
Wiz: In layman’s terms, the more words she knows, the more powerful she gets.
Boomstick: I… doh… What?!? Their power source is reading?!? Seriously?!? This alien species’ kids become gods among men by studying?!?
DUMMI: (to Wiz) I said this would happen if you told him, you know.
Wiz: (proudly) Knowledge is power, Boomstick. In their kind’s case, literally. Simple as that.
Boomstick: Let me get this straight, they have superpowers and an advanced sci-fi civilization with spaceships, the one being from their planet that comes to Earth takes time out of her day to correct people’s English, and they got all of this overpowered bullshit because they’re naturally gifted at being bookworms and get stronger from it?... They’re basically the ultimate nerds! No wonder you like them so much!
Wiz: Hey! As a scientist, I don’t see any issue in merely appreciating the intellect of an extraterrestrial species, especially when that brainpower is put to good use. You wouldn’t get it like I do, Boomstick.
Boomstick: …By god…
Wiz: What? What is it now?
Boomstick: You got attached, Wiz.
Wiz: What? (scoffs) Preposterous! I would never.
Boomstick: Admit it! The kid grew on you.
DUMMI: There is no need to be ashamed.
Wiz: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sure, she’s a lot nicer and more cooperative than the other fourth-wall breakers on this show, but if I actually cared about the kid like she was… I don’t know, like the… daughter I’ve never had, then…, why would I have ever brought her on here?... on Death Battle… (voice changing with horror and realization) so that…
(Cue They Can Feel You - Hainbach)
Wiz: …bright-eyed…, innocent…, joyful little soul… would have to fight to the death against… a sadistic, murdering sociopath…
(Awkward silence as Wiz stares with wide eyes downward in guilt and dread)
Boomstick: Uh…, you okay, Wiz?
Wiz: I… I need a minute. Be right back, you take this section. (runs off into another room, holding back tears)
Boomstick: Huh. Whatever, guess it’s you and me for this one, DUMMI.
(Cue No More Words - INNES)
Boomstick: Despite this bonkers power level, Super-Dora over here does have some weak points.
DUMMI: For starters, she can be weakened by Lexonite, a radioactive material from her planet that’s basically Kryptonite for her species, slowly making them sick and also making them screw up their vocabulary… somehow.
Boomstick: Her durability doesn’t make her absolutely invulnerable with a few examples like the time she almost got choked out by one of Tobey’s robots, and despite her being able to withstand the cold of space, she does seem to be adversely affected by hot temperatures the same way regular humans are, like when the city was under a heat wave.
Wiz: (distant and muffled) Oh, god, what have I done?!?
Boomstick: But the elephant in the room, in case it wasn’t blatantly obvious, is the fact that she’s, well, an 11 year old child.
Wiz: (distant and muffled) Don’t remind me!
Boomstick: Okay, hold on a sec.
(He presses a remote to change the monitor screen to Jocelyn the Intern’s office, where she is playing Scrabble with Becky)
Boomstick: Jocelyn, if I don’t get the chance, when you’re done playing Scrabble with the kid, can you check on Wiz real quick?
Jocelyn: Sure, be there in a few. (screen cuts back)
Boomstick: Anyhow, the pint-sized powerhouse - no one actually calls her that - has a bit of an ego at her age, as well as a mild superiority complex.
(Becky: My flawless word knowledge is exactly what separates me from mere mortals!)
Boomstick: Okay, maybe not so mild, moving on.
(Cue The Storm - Secession Studios)
Boomstick: While she does usually present a kind and composed demeanor, she’s got quite the temper when provoked, as if someone in their right mind with basic survival instinct would piss off someone that powerful to begin with.
(WordGirl: Just in case any of you villains were thinking of committing a crime… *twists a metal bar like a pretzel* So again, if you were thinking about committing a crime in the next couple of hours, don’t… Thank you for your time!)
Boomstick: Though even with potential emotional vulnerabilities and the constant need to hold back her full power (no killing thing for superheroes and all that outside of Death Battle), this little girl is not gonna go down easy by any means. No matter how much juggling her superhero duties with her best attempts at having a normal childhood amongst earthlings - school, soccer, hobbies, the usual - stresses her out to no end, she keeps finding a way to keep on going. WordGirl found a home on a planet completely alien to her and a caring family who welcomed her as one of their own, a place and people she would protect with her life to the very end. So anyone who tries to endanger Fair City, Earth or anyone this kid loves are in for not just a vocabulary lecture, but a can of Lexiconian whoop-ass along with it. Watch out, villains, ‘cause here… she… comes.
Brightburn[]
(Cue Brightburn - Timothy Williams)
Wiz: May 24th, 2006. On this night, what appeared to be a meteor shower covered the dark sky above a small rural town in Kansas, but the object at the center of this celestial phenomena was no meteor. Something from the unknown depths of space was coming toward Earth. A horror beyond imagination awaited the unsuspecting human race.
Boomstick: …Cool. Meanwhile, this one couple in the middle of nowhere, Kansas, Kyle and Tori Breyer, were having some trouble having a kid. And as luck would have it that night, they ended up getting one, though… probably not by the most conventional means.
(Ship crashes near the Breyer residence, the power goes out, and the two see the glowing ship outside)
Boomstick: Huh, didn’t know Amazon wish list items could be delivered by space pod. Wonder what the shipping costs for that are. Lots of questions aside, the two took a good look inside the S.S. Red Flag and found… oh, would you look at that, a baby. A conveniently human-looking baby, in fact. So they decided to take him home and name him Brandon, having the miracle child they always dreamed of. Hey, isn’t this kind of like the story of Superman? Not really feeling the whole “horror beyond imagination” thing you were on about.
Wiz: Don’t be fooled. Brandon may have had a similar landing point and upbringing to Superman, - growing up on a farm, having superpowers and all that - but his path in life could not be further from the Man of Steel’s. The first twelve years of the seemingly normal boy’s life living as part of the Breyer family was only a blissful mirage, as one day, perhaps inevitably, he would become something out of their worst nightmares, because he wasn’t here to save the world.
Boomstick: Eh, we’ve had two evil Supermen on this show before. The little dude looks like your typical middle school introvert. What exactly is he gonna-
(Compilation of Brightburn’s gorier kills)
Boomstick: …Oh… (impressed) Damn, startin’ em off hardcore when they’re young. Nice! Whoever these aliens are, I like the cut of their jib. Hey, wait a sec, they launched a baby in a pod to- Hey, I patented the baby launcher, ya rip-offs!
Wiz: Upon reaching puberty, a baffled and confused Brandon discovered his superhuman nature, the first taste of his true capabilities.
Boomstick: By accidentally yeeting a lawnmower into the air. Hate when that happens. Oh, yeah, and he decided to try and stick his hand into the lawnmower blade after that, utterly wrecking it while he himself was scratch-free. Might want to see a doctor about that.
Wiz: The normally gentle and timid boy became even more withdrawn and far more outwardly aggressive.
Boomstick: Ah, typical of alien puberty. You know the signs, teenage angst, emotional outbursts, floating and staring outside his crush’s window at night, crushing said girl’s hand after she called him a perv… Okay, maybe not those last two, I got nothing for that.
Wiz: Around the same time, he started receiving a single message in his sleep via a telepathic link with his ship, repeating itself over and over until he could decipher it.
Boomstick: Then when he wasn’t sleepwalking, he finally found the flashing red pod in his parents’ barn where they tried to hide it from him. Needless to say, when he found out he was an extraterrestrial orphan left by his lonesome on Earth and that he was literally alien to everyone on the planet, he… didn’t take it very well.
Wiz: As he stormed outside the place he called home on that rainy night in fury, the translation of his ship’s message, his true purpose in this world, was revealed to him. From that day, humanity’s fate would be sealed as their future overlord bearing the namesake of the tiny village that raised this monster was born. One day, they would all know his name: Brightburn.
(Brandon: Take... the... world... Take the world! *screams as his heat vision engulfs the camera*)
(Cue Brandon’s Power - Timothy Williams)
Wiz: And so, a gradually escalating process of death and destruction would begin.
Boomstick: Yeah, not being fully on board with the world domination thing yet, the little dude started small with just grabbing his homemade superhero costume and eviscerating anyone he had a pet peeve with. In true serial killer fashion, he even leaves a little bloody “BB” sigil at the scene of all his kills like he was some kind of cryptid. And what an arsenal he had to kick off the massacre with.
Wiz: Brandon’s powers granted by his alien physiology are numerous, granting him the ability to fly, as well as the superhuman strength to lift trucks and smash through buildings with ease. In addition, his super speed is such that he can practically disappear from a person’s view in an instant and appear right behind them in the next, or just apply his strength and speed to fly through a human body and reduce it to nothing more than red mist and bloody paste.
Boomstick: Hell yeah, now we’re talkin’! Of course, his durability is pretty insane, too, considering he’s pretty much immune to physical damage from just about any earthly object. Lawnmower blades, point-blank shotgun blasts, even sickness and diseases, this kid’s body just no-sells all of it. But no slasher Superman powerset would be complete without ol’ reliable: shootin’ fuckin’ lasers from his eyes!
Wiz: Brightburn’s heat vision is by far one of, if not his deadliest weapon, being able to melt through human flesh or even metal with ease. Assuming this freezer door here is made of galvanized steel, in order to burn right through it, his heat vision would, at minimum, have to be at a temperature of the melting point of steel. That would make the beams’ temperature 2800° Fahrenheit, or 1538° Celsius., or 1538° Celsius.
Boomstick: Wait, I just realized something, if his beams are hot enough to do that, but it took just as long to fry a dude’s face, can he change the temperature at will or something?
Wiz: That’s right, Boomstick. Brightburn can, at least to some degree, consciously affect how much energy is put out by his heat vision. For example, when he killed his father for trying to shoot him out of fear, he kept his beams at a lower temperature to slowly burn through his eyes, and only after a few seconds did he decide to finish him off with one last burst of heat.
(*plays Kyle Breyer’s death scene*)
(Cue Don’t Tell the Sheriff - Timothy Williams)
Boomstick: Did… did he just… hold back his power for the sole purpose of prolonging that guy’s suffering?
Wiz: Yes… yes, he did.
Boomstick: …Huh…now that’s a case of dad issues… uh…, heh… heh… um… uh…
Wiz: Brandon is a natural apex predator, growing more precise with every hunt and every kill as he perfects his methods, utilizing a mastery of stealth to silently conceal his presence when needed. On top of that, he has also heavily studied anatomy, usually that of humans, to learn as much about the vital areas and weaknesses of his would-be prey. Not to mention, he is also a gifted genius thanks to his superhuman intelligence.
Boomstick: Apparently even the murder-happy alien kid’s a nerd.
Wiz: He also possesses some psychic abilities in addition to his physical powers-
Boomstick: Of course this kid has more bullshit, too.
Wiz: …such as his telekinesis that allows him to, say, shatter a light fixture on the ceiling and aim one of the falling glass shards right into his target’s eye.
Boomstick: Okay, that is disturbingly creative for a 12-year-old.
Wiz: Or tear metal doors right off their hinges and toss them to the other end of the room in the blink of an eye without even moving. Not to mention, he also has the ability to amplify the fear and panic of any living thing in his vicinity just by being near them.
Boomstick: Oh, so he can drive chickens and possibly people into a frenzy just by creepily standing there. That’s ju-, well, that’s- oh, (under his breath) oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
Wiz: He also possesses technopathy, a psychic power where he can manipulate electronics in such a way to flash or turn lights and computers on and off, concentrating enough electricity to overload a circuit like he did with the ceiling light, or say, disconnect a laptop or TV screen to make it turn to static. Again, just by thinking and willing it without even having to move.
Boomstick: …He…uh… He can’t break the fourth wall, too, right?
Wiz: I… don’t think heBoomstick: Okay, so I don’t remember most Kryptonians having shit like telekinesis, horror movie light flashing, and fucking fear auras. What exactly is he?
Wiz: Normally, I’d do the explanation for that, but even my knowledge of his species is quite limited, as much of it is left unknown. Luckily, I had Jocelyn do some digging. Put her on.
(Monitor turns to a peeved Jocelyn in her office where she sits alone)
(Cue Urges - Timothy Williams)
Jocelyn: Well, I’ve had plenty of time to fixate on this topic, considering… recent events that I had to clean up, so why not get into the details? Like you said, much of Brandon’s origin is shrouded in mystery, as is the exact power source for their species or even if there is one, given that they don’t seem to be powered by sunlight like Kryptonians. Fortunately, there are some clues as to the nature of his species, one of which was, coincidentally enough, given by the boy himself.
Jocelyn: Given their kind’s aggressive and domineering nature toward other species and their goal of subjugating planets to suit them, it’s possible that these aliens are similar in behavior to an insectoid brood parasite. While leaving their young by themselves on planets occupied by weaker beings isn’t in and of itself confirmation of this, this would explain the violent, predatory tendencies of even their youngest members. In fact, Brightburn’s mask is designed to be quite similar to, well, a wasp. (mutters) Fitting for a pest like that little…
(brief pause)
Jocelyn: Wait a second, that psychopath’s who you brought her here to fight?!?
(monitor feed cuts away at the last word)
Boomstick: And… not having Wiz dwell on that more. Moving on. Quick, bring up all the crazy shit he’s done so we can get more TNT calculations or whatever.
Wiz: Right, uh, good call. For starters, Brandon has flown all the way to the stratosphere from the surface in quick fashion with no issue, set fire to an entire forest, and crashed through a large office building and out the other side, causing it to completely collapse into rubble while he was completely unharmed. By our estimates, destroying this structure would require an output roughly equivalent to, at bare lowball, two or more tons of TNT per building in just one flyby.
Boomstick: And that’s just his casual average shit. One time, either through his technology tampering bullshit, his heat vision, or by just ripping it out of the sky with his bare hands, he straight up caused a passenger jet to crash into his house and made sure that all 268 people on board were dead as part of a cover-up of the murders he had just got done with minutes before. You know, I think we’ve gotten to the part of him starting his conquest, embracing his evil nature, all that stuff, so where’s this guy’s Billy Butcher or whoever the hell it is who’s coming to stop him or something?
Wiz: He doesn’t have one. As far as anyone knows, no one in his world can stop him.
Boomstick: Uh… don’t these things usually have some big showdown with a nemesis or something?
(Cue Happy Birthday (Sad Piano Version) - Myuu)
Wiz: Not here, there isn’t, Boomstick. No one is coming. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that even if they tried, it probably wouldn’t even matter.
Boomstick: I’m listening…
Wiz: In the journals found by Brandon’s mother shortly before her and her husband’s deaths, she found exact depictions of not only his past killings down to the last planned out details, but also of things that he could do later on down the line as he became more aware of the extent of his power.
Boomstick: Okay, so he mapped out his power in a bunch of drawings, what’s the big-
Wiz: In one of these sketches, it shows him flying into orbit and utterly obliterating the entire planet.
Boomstick: Oh… bummer.
Wiz: If this is to be taken literally as something he could feasibly do alongside everything else depicted in this notebook, that means that Brightburn is capable of concentrating enough energy in one blast of heat vision to destroy entire worlds with a force of 53 quadrillion megatons of TNT.
Boomstick: Mega bummer. As for weaknesses, he has some potentially exploitable ones. As is probably obvious, he’s vulnerable to the metal his ship’s made out of, Kryptonite-style, surprise, surprise, though it only seems to be able to cut him rather than weaken his powers. He’s also only killed normal humans and animals before, as good as he is at that, so he’s never fought anyone with supernatural abilities of his own. Oh, and on top of the hotheadedness and his easily triggered temper, he has quite the ego to him.
(Brandon: I’ve realized I’m special. Because my real parents aren’t from a stupid place like here.
Merilee: Brandon, you don’t think of your mom and dad as your real parents?
Brandon: I do, I just know I’m something else. Something superior.)
Boomstick: Gee, who would’ve guessed that the alien who drew himself levitating above a pile of skulls like some kind of malevolent god had a superiority complex towards humans? Not gonna lie, this, uh… got kinda bleak, Wiz.
Wiz: And that’s exactly the point. Superman is supposed to represent an unyielding hope for humanity, a dream and ideal to look upon in awe and aspire to. That’s why he became so beloved, because he embodied faith in a brighter future for the people of Earth. But Brightburn is the precise opposite. In his world, there is no faith in stopping his rampage. There is no plucky protagonist, hero or a bunch of capable humans to try and end his reign of terror. There is nothing but the emptiest possible hopelessness.
Boomstick: This… got… really heavy.
Wiz: Whereas Superman values the lives and his relationships with humanity, Brightburn has no regard for their value whatsoever. Brandon, with no family or attachments to humanity left to even remotely concern himself with, humans as nothing more than a lesser organism on the proverbial food chain like how an animal would view insects. Truly alone in a world full of a species he deems deceitful and contemptible and with every member of that species who knew his weakness or origin dead, Brightburn’s only motivation after his past life of normalcy fell to pieces is to achieve the realization of his designated purpose, all befitting his nihilistic view of humans as deserving no more respect or care than an ant to be crushed under his boot. He is humanity’s dread. He… is the apocalypse.
Boomstick: Really heavy stuff.
Wiz: There won’t be any saviors. There won’t be any heroes. There won’t be anything that can truly temper his bloodlust in his war against the human race. For those poor souls that remain on Earth only hoping that their deaths are relatively quick and painless, Brightburn will be the bringer of only one thing: …the end.
Interlude[]
(Cue Invader - Jim Johnston or Wiz and Boomstick - Brandon Yates (reader’s choice))
Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set. Let’s end this debate once and for all!
Boomstick: IT'S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLEEE!!!
(Roots/Bets StrawPoll Here)
DEATH BATTLE![]
(Cue Send Her to Me - Wayne Chance)
The old gas station was an otherwise unremarkable sight from both outside and in, a radio’s sounds crackling as it played Wayne Chance songs, reverberating throughout the small room from behind the owner’s counter. As the man walked over to the edge, he noticed that in the store that was otherwise empty of customers, there was only one soul as far as he could see.
A quiet young boy looking no older than 12 years of age looked through the assortment of newspapers and magazines stacked nearby, browsing for something that could catch his attention. While there was a variety of papers here, the man found no reason as to why the lad would be so fixated on them. It’s not like anything interesting usually happened all that much in this part of rural Kansas, relatively speaking.
“Well, at least before the sightings of that flying freak in the mask and cape started,” he thought. The man had gotten his hands on some papers from cities outside the area recently, so maybe the kid’s looking for one of those. It was the best explanation he could think of, anyway.
The boy stopped, pulling out one newspaper from the stack which he stared at with a curious expression, flipping through the pages and photos for a cursory view before looking back at the headline that caught his eye. Walking over to the counter, paper in hand as his backpack rustled with every step he took, he looked up to the man and placed both the newspaper and two dollar bills before him.
“I’m not getting anything else, just the paper,” the boy said in a calm, monotone voice, as the man took the payment.
“You out here by yourself, kid?” the man asked, a southern drawl present in his speech.
“Yeah, but I’m on my way home from soccer.”
“You should probably get there quick, it’s already gettin’ dark out and I’m guessin’ y’all know that whackjob’s still out there. Your folks are probably worried sick about ya.”
“Thanks for the concern, but… he’s probably just an urban legend,” the boy said, retaining his indifference as he took the paper and walked out the door, “Have a good day, sir.”
“Y’all take care now,” the man replied as he adjusted his cowboy hat, thinking only that there was something… off about that youngster.
(Cue Breyer Family - Timothy Williams)
Sitting down at a bench far away from the station as his dark brown hair slightly blew in the summer wind and the darkness of the night obscured his figure in shadow, the boy thoroughly examined the front page of the packet with a nearby lamppost as the only nearby light source. Not that he needed it to read, in reality.
He had no need for many of the things that humans used in their everyday lives. Reading lights, protective gear like helmets, weapons, all of it was worthless to him. He was different, and in his mind, that made him better, or at least that’s what he’s told himself since he had to come to terms with who, or rather what, he really was. His aunt Merilee, the only immediate family left to take care of him, didn’t suspect a thing, not when he came into his family’s lives and not when she took him in after their world turned upside down.
Despite him coming out of the chaos scott-free in the end, Brandon Breyer was in a personal hell. While his parents tried to put him down out of panic, he still missed their company from time to time, even though he had killed them for their betrayal. Although he did still have his aunt, she was overcome with grief over both the Breyers’ and her own husband’s deaths, the latter he ironically killed to keep his secret. Besides, even if she knew of what he really was, she could never relate to him. How could a simple human truly empathize with a being with power beyond their comprehension? No peer and certainly no adult could ever understand being fully alien compared to literally everyone on Earth.
Further, he had no reason to trust a species so far beneath him, especially one as capable of deceit and treachery as humanity. With his family gone, he had no real reason to not follow through on the objective he was sent to this planet for. Even though he still had his ship’s voice instructing him to fulfill his species’ purpose and keeping him company by extension, Brandon never imagined the path to world domination would be so draining and lonely.
So many terrified people knew his name now, as he wished, albeit not Brandon Breyer, the name he used among humans, only his true name, one befitting of their future subjugator. He could see it in every headline. A condominium reduced to rubble here, a new sighting of his symbol in a field there, anywhere he left his mark, it would gain both attention and the existential fear among people that always comes with it.
The words before him now, however, were not like those stories that had become repetitive for him at this point, but instead piqued his interest the further he read and thought about their implications, all from a paper with events from a place he had never heard of before. Fair City was not a name familiar to him and would normally be of no significance, if not for what, or more so who, was on the front page’s picture.
“Homegrown Superhero’s Streak of Success Continues,” the headline read, the picture below showing a levitating girl with a gold cape and a scarlet spacesuit and helmet lifting a meteor with one hand, all while smiling and facing the camera. As he inspected the picture and article further, more details were known to him. In a story he would have thought was just made up in a comic book before he discovered his own powers, he noticed that the girl couldn’t have been much older or younger than him and that she was essentially a beloved celebrity wherever on Earth this “Fair City” was. In fact, similar to the mark he left behind at the site of his deeds, she even had her own symbol, a patch depicting a golden shield covered by a red star emblazoned on her chest.
The more he read about the abilities and exploits of this “superhero,” the more awestruck and intrigued he was. Could it be possible that there really was someone out there just like him, let alone someone as young as he was? Brandon felt tempted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but he knew that what lay printed before him did not lie. He was not alone on this planet after all.
At this realization, daydreams of having someone as smart as he was to talk with and someone as powerful and foreign to this world as he was to relate to filled his mind. Maybe, just maybe, this won’t go south like what happened with humans like Caitlyn and he could finally have a real, loyal friend, one who would never push him away.
(Cue Brightburn - Timothy Williams)
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol.”
Brandon heard his ship’s voice in his head repeat the oldest phrase he knew from it, the one telling him his real purpose so long ago. Upon hearing this, other considerations entered his mind and tamed his initial optimism.
This girl seemed to coexist with humans, even allowing herself to be used by them as a means to keep their city’s criminals at bay. That could only mean that she does not understand the true backstabbing nature of humans as he did. These pathetic pigs hadn’t turned their backs on her yet because they relied on her for their dirty work. It was possible that she knew this and was just doing it to lure them into a false sense of security, but he couldn’t be sure. And what was with the monkey on her back? Is it a pet? Is it an alien like they were? Both?
Needless to say, he had plenty of unanswered questions that needed resolution before he could be sure if this new superbeing was going to be the ally of his dreams or a challenger that he’d have to make an example of. At minimum, a few days of preparation and thought would likely be needed for this next undertaking. The paper had nothing about him, so it was possible they haven’t heard of him yet, and even then, his stealth should make it so he should have no trouble sneaking around the city at night to gain the information he needed to formulate his plan.
Besides, if the sights talked about in the paper were anything to go by, Fair City sounded like a great place for him to visit on a summer weekend.
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol.”
The ship repeated itself again, as Brandon whispered along with it, concluding that the risks could be worth the reward of having someone to rule Earth by his side. Closing the paper as he finished reading with his mind made up, he knew what the “whackjob’s” next destination would be.
"Take… the… world…” he whispered.
Soon, Fair City would know and fear the name of humanity’s new master, Brightburn.
(Cue The Gift - Gavin Luke)
Somewhere in a currently nearly silent part of Fair City, the rain poured as a young boy sat in his bedroom’s rocking chair, adjusting his glasses.
“Even I’m running out of ideas now,” he muttered, his British accent barely noticeable through his quiet tone.
Tobey McCallister had quite the dilemma, to say the least. Attempt after attempt, including some that had seemingly come so close to success, had utterly failed in the face of his enemy’s sheer power. The superhero he had tried to best for so long, in spite of everything, seemed just as utterly untouchable as she always had been, if not to an even greater degree after all this time. No matter how many robots, inventions, or new ideas he, or even any other villains for that matter, threw at her, it didn’t even matter.
“Maybe…,” he said to himself, a sense of doubt and defeatism seeping in as he put down his book to look up from his chair, “Maybe nothing will make a difference.”
Perhaps it was a hopeless effort to defeat her. Perhaps no human invention, even those as grand as his, could ever defeat such a being. Perhaps his supervillain ventures would gain him nothing in the end, though he desperately tried to shoo away such thoughts.
The boy picked up a different book, this one a yearbook from the previous school year, to try to reflect on what he had been able to accomplish in the time since this all began. He poured over the pictures of the staff and students, recognizing quite a few familiar faces amongst the latter, for better or for worse. Though, as he looked back, he admittedly had some positive moments outside of his attempts at boastful showmanship.
At least he’d have those memories, he thought with a slight smile, if nothing else.
(Cue Ominous Wind - Peder B. Helland)
Tobey looked up from the yearbook to check the window, as he thought he had heard something pass by it. He noticed nothing out of the ordinary through the glass as rain continued to pelt it relentlessly and the storm persisted outside.
Despite this, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the thought that he wasn’t just hearing things. He looked around the room one last time before making sure the window was locked and sitting back down.
Before he could give this any more thought, every light in the vicinity suddenly turned off, with the only source of illumination for anywhere in the room being the dimming natural light seeping through the window. Though he wasn’t too pleased with what seemed to be a power outage, Tobey was just glad that dusk hadn’t turned to nightfall just yet so his vision wasn’t completely surrounded by darkness.
He sighed in annoyance before checking for another source of light, deciding to see if his inactive reading light would work as it was best suited for what he was occupied with anyway. Besides, it was better than nothing, he thought. To his fortune, the reading light turned on with no issue, even as every other light in the house showed no signs of restored function.
“Well, at least that still works in this weather,” he grumbled, placing the book beneath the reading light before turning around.
Tobey’s eyes widened and his body stopped in its tracks as he looked upon what stood in his bedroom doorway.
Obscured by the darkness, a figure who looked to be around his age and stature stared at Tobey, not saying a word or moving a muscle.
“W-w-who are you?” Tobey stammered, nearly having a heart attack from the suddenness of the figure’s appearance.
“You’ll know eventually,” the figure replied in an emotionless tone, as Tobey still couldn’t make out his features, “but not today.”
Tobey could tell that whoever this is was a boy around his age judging by the voice and height. He decided to attempt to feign confidence as he assumed that this intruder at least knew who he was.
“How did you get in here? Do you have any idea who I-”
“That’s not important,” the figure said, as the door closed behind him without even a sign of movement on his part, “But I do know who you are…, and I don’t care.”
Seeing the door close apparently at this mysterious boy’s will alone gave Tobey pause, now knowing that there was more to this person than met his eye.
“W-w-well,” Tobey said, trying to hide his fear as sweat formed near his brow, “What do you want?”
“Easy,” the figure answered, a pleased conversational tone somewhat seeping in despite his composure holding firm, “I’ve been looking into this city recently… and I heard of your… ‘exploits.’ I have some questions for you…, and I’m going to have answers.”
Puzzled at his request, Tobey gave it some thought before answering.
“Well,” he said, putting on an act of pride, “No one in this city is smarter than me, whoever you are, so you might be in luck. But what’s in it for me if I agree to this collaboration?”
“Collaboration?” the figure thought, incensed at this mere human’s audacity.
In the darkness, the obscured boy’s eyes began to glow red, staring directly into Tobey’s from across the room as the latter suddenly felt a sense of unnatural dread.
“This is not an offer,” the assailant said, a feeling of offense presented in his voice, “What’s in this for you is that you, your mother and everyone in that yearbook might get to live to see sunrise. Understand?”
Frozen in fear, Tobey slightly nodded as his eyes were still fixed on the figure’s gaze.
“Good,” the figure said, the glow fading as his voice returned to its previous tone, “Now…, I know you’re not really the smartest one around this place. That’s who I’m actually here for, not you. This look familiar?”
The shrouded boy took a few steps closer as he reached out his hand to show Tobey a newspaper clenched in it. On its front cover, Tobey could see clearly the real target of this… whatever this figure was.
“Yes…,” Tobey said bitterly, his fear being temporarily replaced by resignation, “We’ve been rivals for some time. I’m sure you know that by now.”
“I do,” the figure replied, before pulling the paper back, “So I know that you should know her face. She can’t be much older than you…, and judging by that book, I have a feeling her real name is in there somewhere.”
“Hmph, I wish,” Tobey grumbled, “I’ve tried to figure out her secret identity plenty of times and even I don’t have a clue.”
“No?” the boy sarcastically replied, “You sure there isn’t… anyone in that yearbook that even vaguely looks like her? From what I heard, she’s only ever been seen around here, so I find that hard to believe.”
Tobey grabbed the yearbook before opening it to the page where his class from last year was listed with their photos, giving a cursory skim through it.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Tobey said, “Not a single person has figured it out, as far as I know.”
“Oh, really?” the figure said, “So… you won’t mind if I look through that… right?”
“Be my guest,” Tobey sighed, handing it to him, “You won’t find anything useful.”
The boy read through the pages in the darkness, his body stilling with anger as his gaze fell upon a particular image on one of them. He took a silent deep breath through his nose before looking up at Tobey.
“Do you think I’m blind…” he said, impatience permeating his voice, “or do you think I’m stupid?”
“What?” Tobey asked, “I don’t even know who you-”
“Blind…” he repeated, slightly louder, “or stupid? Which is it? Or are you both?”
“I-... what are you talking about? I did what you sai-”
“Liar…,” he hissed, before Tobey felt himself be pushed by an invisible force into his chair as the boy held up the yearbook with a finger placed above a specific picture, “Answer me. Who is she?”
Tobey looked at the picture the boy pointed to, recognizing the face anywhere. His long-time school rival, Becky Botsford.
“Wait…,” Tobey said, stifling a laugh, “You actually think that Becky Botsford is-”
“Shut up…, is she a friend of yours? Is that why you lied to me?”
“What? No! We hate each other, I would never-”
“If that’s true, then you’ll have no problem answering me. Where is she right now?”
“How should I know?” he stammered, the boy genius’ facade of confidence quickly unraveling, “she’s probably hanging out with her best friend, Violet or something.”
“Violet…,” the figure muttered to himself, thinking back to what information he gathered on the population of the city before coming here to get first-hand confirmation.
“Heaslip, is that right?” the assailant asked.
“Y-y-yes…” Tobey said, stuttering as his dread grew more and more.
The figure, Brandon Breyer, took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he focused his super hearing, trying to pinpoint any sounds from where he assumed his target was.
“Violet Heaslip…,” he thought, “Let’s see what you’re up to…”
His hearing locked onto the location, as he heard a conversation taking place. As their words carried on, he could infer who each voice was, the deeper one belonging to Heaslip and a lighter one that he knew was Becky Botsford by the time the latter’s name was spoken.
The conversation continued as a malicious grin appeared on his face, realizing what the subject matter was as their voices became more distraught.
“This friend of hers found out her identity…” Brandon thought, “And now she’s turning her back on her… Leave it to these stupid humans to unwittingly make my job even easier.”
Brandon felt a sense of pleasure as their friendship seemed to break down before his ears, reveling in the audible spectacle as he heard Violet leave Becky in tears while the latter left the home.
“Go ahead and tell her goodbye,” he thought, “Show her who humans really are. Go ahead and lead her right to me…”
Satisfied at the information he gathered, regardless of McCallister’s usefulness, Brandon felt that the ideal time was quickly coming for him to play his hand. Tomorrow around sundown, he would make his move, making sure that he and this “Becky Botsford” would be alone without any human interference. Though he’d have to find a way to get that monkey away from her, this would be no issue. All he had to do was wait now.
Tomorrow, he thought, would be the greatest day of his life.
(No background music)
Violet's mind was clouded with conflicting thoughts as she walked down the stairs, leaving her best friend on the rooftop so she herself could contemplate the situation clearly.
"She's probably right...," Violet thought, feelings of guilt permeating her very being as she thought she could hear her childhood companion's muffled tears, "What happened yesterday... maybe it won't change much after all. I mean..., it's still Becky at the end of the day, I guess. But on the other hand...,"
The girl stopped walking as her thought process momentarily halted upon reaching the floor separating the upper and lower ones of the building, hearing and then seeing a rat squeaking as it scampered toward a hole in the wall.
Violet backed away, hoping to not get in the rat's path as she slowly backed away toward the previous flight of stairs. The rat took off in the opposite direction as the room's lights flickered and dimmed. She looked over to the door, her pupils narrowing as she beheld a ghoulish sight.
(Cue Lurking in the Shadows - Pianogeist)
Wearing the eeriest mask she had ever seen was a dark figure gently floating in front of the nearest entryway, his scarlet eyes staring right at her as his red cape hung behind its back. Obscured by the shadows, he levitated without moving an inch, while Violet felt herself being held in place by both her now amplified fear and an invisible force that she was unaware of the source of.
"Don't scream," she could hear a male voice say, "We need to talk."
The rat tried to move past the figure before the latter stopped floating and let his shoes touch the ground, his gaze not looking away from the terrified youth for even a nanosecond. The rodent attempted to bite at his leg, with no effect even on the figure's clothes. Shortly after, it was suddenly lifted by an invisible force into the figure's right hand, the latter gripping the creature tightly as its stare was uninterrupted. The rodent desperately tried to break out of the hand that now enclosed its entire small body, but didn't even seem to faze him at all.
As Violet was telekinetically held in place, she was forced to watch as the figure tightened his grip without even looking at the rodent, slowly crushing it in his hand as blood oozed down his pale knuckles. Her breath quickened in panic as the boy's fist closed, leaving nothing of the rat but a fine, red paste. Opening his hand as the remaining blood poured from it, the figure returned to his previous position before his eyes' glow dimmed. The figure used his clean hand to slowly took his mask off, though his face was still obscured by the shadows.
The slight smile befitting a serial killer formed on his closed mouth as he looked at Violet before he finally spoke in a soft voice, taking a photograph out of his pocket.
"Before you go... That girl outside..., is this her?"
(Cut, next scene)
(Cue The Joys and Sorrows of Life - Johannes Bornlof)
“I… I don’t know… I have to think about it.”
Those were the words repeating in the young wonder-girl’s mind as she sat on a bench with her head down, the last words spoken on a nearby rooftop just a little under an hour before by the one she called her best friend for years. The words spoken as that same friend walked away as she pleaded with her in tears to not leave their friendship behind, to not leave her behind on that roof.
“Why, Violet?” she thought, her hands slightly tugging her knee socks as her body tensed up, “Do years of fun and games together not mean anything to you anymore? And over what? Me not being from here? Me being a hero? After all I’ve done for this city, for you, you say we can’t be friends anymore because I’m…”
Her thoughts became sidetracked as she loosened her grip and grabbed a nearby rock to take her frustration out on instead. Clenching the pebble in her right fist as her long brunette hair blew along with the wind and tears welled up in her eyes, her previous line of thought returned.
“‘But you’re so much more’? Really? Me being a superhero affects your view of me that much? We were great friends when you thought I was a human, and you loved my alter ego as much as just about anyone else in this city does! I’m still me! I’m not different! How do you not get that?!?”
Just as she tried to close her fist even further, she heard a crunching sound, no longer feeling the solid structure of the rock. Opening her hand and looking down, she slightly panicked and looked around to make sure that no one saw her crush a pebble into the fine sediment that now lay in her palm. Looking back at it, she waved her hand rapidly to disperse the dust, making sure to dust off any that got on her emerald sweater or maroon skirt.
Placing her left hand on her forehead to adjust her headband as she laid back to look upon the sunset, a feeling of depression began to sink in for the girl, knowing that, in fact, she was different. Maybe not different in that she could still walk, talk and enjoy things like regular humans can, but in the fact that she possessed gifts and a heritage that could only be conceived of in imagination in their view. No one seemed to judge her persona for that, though. They didn’t know that one of “them” was behind the suit, so they had no problem adoring her, idolizing her very name as if she were sent from the heavens as their guardian angel. But the minute her best friend in the world found out that she and that idol were one and the same, suddenly, a line was crossed.
Wiping her tears with her left forearm and looking down at her right palm, she wondered if anyone really knew what she had to deal with everyday. To control and hide such unimaginable physical traits for fear of losing the perception of being “normal” was at times unbearable and the constant pressure to deal with a bunch of goofy supervillains didn’t help matters either.
At least she still had her sidekick to count on, he’d never judged her for this. Part of her felt guilty for asking the captain to leave her alone and stay inside that building for a bit after her conversation with Violet on the rooftop, but they both knew she needed some space to think after the long day they had.
“Maybe things’ll get better,” she thought, “She said she’d think about it, after all. Plus, at least I don’t have to deal with any more villains today. It’s pretty peaceful out here. Just the sunset, me… and that boy on the other side of the be-”
“Wait, where did he come from?!?”
(Cue Rainy Day People - Greg Tricker-Reissig)
Looking to the other side of the bench with a double take, she blinked twice to make sure that she was in fact looking at a person sitting there, somehow appearing without her passive senses even noticing his movement or the sound of his footsteps.
The sight before her was pretty clear, a boy around her age in muddied sneakers, a dark leather vest worn over a white long-sleeved shirt, and pants as dark as his short hair, the strands slightly moving in the same direction as hers. He sat there seemingly without noticing her as he looked straight forward toward the sunset while taking a bite out of a small cookie.
“Uh… h-how long have you been sitting there?” she managed to blurt out after a few seconds, stammering.
The fading sunlight gleaming on his pale skin, the boy looked over to her and, after swallowing, spoke with a casual expression on his face, though without a smile.
“Oh, I just got here,” he said in a quiet, manner-of-fact tone, “Thought it’d be a good place to sit and watch the sunset.”
The boy’s expression changed into a more curious one as he noticed the tear marks on her cheeks and held his snack in front of him.
“I got a whole bag of these, you want one? It’ll cheer you up.” he said, pulling a small bag out of his backpack before taking a new cookie out of it and holding it in his palm for her to take.
“Oh… um… thanks,” she said, accepting his offer and taking the cookie into her own hand.
As the girl took a bite, the boy thought to himself that his trip here could prove to be worth it after all. Mentally noting her appearance, while the civilian clothes looked nothing like the suit worn by the one he was looking for, as was expected, he noticed the similarities immediately, same light brown skin, same hair, same figure, same face, everything that could distinguish her apart from the costume were a perfect match. Unless the information he gathered over the past few days was wrong, she had to be the one he was after.
“You look upset,” he said as she chewed, “Something bothering you?”
She looked up at him, surprised that a random stranger just came out of nowhere, offered her a cookie, and now wanted to talk about her feelings.
“Well,” she said after swallowing, “Yeah, I will admit that I do feel a little… melancholic right now.”
The boy raised his eyebrow, curious as to where this was leading, though the girl mistook this as a sign of confusion.
“Oh,” she said, “Melancholic means-”
“Feeling or expressing pensive sadness,” they said at the same time.
As her expression turned to one of astonishment, his eyebrow remained raised and his eyes widened, more intrigued than ever.
“Epiphany,” he said.
“A moment of sudden realization or insight,” they simultaneously answered, as the boy slightly smiled and the girl’s eyes widened.
“Uncanny,” she said, a smile slowly creeping across her face.
“Strange or mysterious, especially in an unsettling way,” they synced for a third time before the girl slapped her own knee and looked back up at him with a wide smile.
“What? No way!” she said, thinking that no human could have had as much word knowledge as her.
“Yeah, way,” he said, sporting a similar awestruck expression before they both chuckled and continued eating their cookies. As she giggled while trying to chew her piece, she suddenly heard him speak in a tone that no longer conveyed casualty after she swallowed it.
(Cue Coming Home - Timothy Williams)
“Death,” he said in a cold, almost robotic voice that seemed devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
“W-what?” she muttered, her smile changed to a look of unease as her eyes met his.
The boy said nothing, maintaining an unmoving expression as his body remained motionless and his cold, blue irises stared into her eyes, as if he could pierce through her retinas and peer into her soul.
“Uh…” she stuttered, her voice slowly becoming quieter with each word as no change or response in the boy’s demeanor showed itself, “T-the, uh… action or fact of dying or being k-killed, or the, um… the end of the life of a… person or organism…”
A few seconds passed without movement from either of them, the girl frozen with fear and the boy retaining his stare. Until his smile returned and he stifled a laugh.
(Cue Rainy Day People - Greg Tricker-Reissig)
“You should see the look on your face,” he said, holding a hand to his mouth.
“Yikes, don’t do that,” she said in a somewhat annoyed tone as her body relaxed and she started to half-heartedly laugh along while both turned toward the sunset, “You creeped the daylights out of me.”
“Alright, alright.”
As they regained their casual composure, she spoke up and looked toward him again, realizing they hadn’t even known each others’ names.
“Becky Botsford, by the way.”
The boy’s eyes lit up with glee as he turned to look at her before saying, “You’re not gonna believe this.”
“What?” she asked.
“Brandon Breyer.”
“You’re kidding! We have the same initials, too?”
“I know, right?” he said, catching himself before he could choke on a stray crumb.
“You new here?”
“Oh, I didn’t move here or anything. I’m just visiting. Great place, beats the hicksville in Kansas I came here from, anyway.”
“Is this your first time?” she asked, stifling a laugh.
“Yeah, never even heard of this place. It's pretty scenic, though.”
“Well, I guess I get to be the first one to say welcome to Fair City, Brandon.”
“Thanks… Anyway,” Brandon continued before an awkward silence could set in, “What’s wrong, Becky?”
“Oh, right, that,” she said, her head lowering and her smile fading as she thought of her words carefully so as to not reveal her identity, “it’s a… bit of a long story, but pretty much, I was best friends with this girl for years and we’d pretty much done everything together, but recently, she found out about a big secret I had and now she thinks we can’t be friends anymore.”
“Not to pry or anything, but was it something you did?” Brandon inquired further after waiting for her to finish.
“No, that’s the thing, it didn’t even negatively affect her at all, or anyone else. My best guess is that maybe she feels overwhelmed and convinced herself that I’m this whole new person she doesn’t really know, so she just… ditched me.”
While Brandon’s expression showing concern and curiosity remained on his face, he internally assessed how he could use this to his advantage. Perhaps if she could be convinced that this “friend” of hers wasn’t the only human who’d turn their back on her, then she’d be more open to accepting the truth about humanity, he thought.
“Well,” he said, taking time to phrase his response correctly, “I learned something a long time ago. It’s that… sometimes, when bad things happen to people, it’s… for a good reason.”
Becky looked toward him in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“Not to make assumptions or anything, but maybe her not accepting you because of your secret is a sign that… she doesn’t respect you or… maybe that she never valued your friendship as much as you did. Therein lies the good reason, I guess… now you can be more sure about who you can really trust and see the ones you can’t trust plain as day.”
“I-” she tried to speak, “I-I mean, it’s not like she never cared, Brandon, it’s just that… it’s just that…” Her mind trailed off, somewhat internalizing what he had said. He couldn’t be right. Violet still cared enough to help her even after she found out the truth, so maybe there was still hope, right? She wouldn’t leave her for good over this, right?
“Becky,” he said, in a sad, soft tone, “I’m gonna be honest with you. Life is full of people who one day tell you they love you or… that you’re their friend and then abandon or backstab you the next. I don’t know enough about your story to say whether this is like that, but all I’d say is be careful who you trust. Think of it this way, if someone is your friend, they um… stick by you, right?”
“Y-yeah.”
“And you assume that they won’t turn on you because you’re friends, right?”
“I guess.”
“So if friends are supposed to stay loyal to each other and not abandon each other, then, well… why would she leave you at all if she really cared about you?”
This is where this test really might show something, Brandon thought. As he watched the gears turn in Becky’s mind, he could only imagine that she was coming to grips with the fickleness of lowly humans, if she hadn’t secretly known that already.
On the other hand, Becky thought about her answer, mainly focusing on the fact that his view of friendship, loyalty, etc. seemed… odd to her. Maybe it was because it seemed oversimplified and her view of the situation was probably better because of his far lesser first-hand knowledge of the matter. Or maybe there was something he wasn’t telling her.
“Brandon, not to change the subject, but… what you said about people betraying you… did something like that happen to you?” she asked, looking toward his face.
Brandon paused, tilting his head slightly downward, “You could say that. A few times, actually.”
With a sigh, Becky made her case, “Hey, I’m… sorry that happened. I think I get what you’re saying, but no friendship’s gonna be exactly perfect and -well- there’s always gonna be hiccups down the line. A few bumps in the road don’t mean the end, right?”
“I wish,” he responded briefly, trying to keep the subject as far away from his experiences and thus, what he had done in Kansas, as possible.
“Besides, we don’t have to worry about anybody right now, do we? You and I seem to be getting along pretty well so far, so that’s something.”
“...Yeah. Yeah, it is,” he said as his relaxed slight smile mirrored hers, his previous thoughts leaving for a moment so he could enjoy this fleeting moment of compassion from one he knew he had no reason to suspect of intentions against him.
(Cue Coming Home - Timothy Williams)
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol.”
“Right,” Brandon thought, remembering what this was all for as he received the ship’s message. If the girl’s demeanor in her civilian identity was an act to cover up a more aggressive side like his, then she was one hell of an actor. Otherwise, the results he had found in this initial probing assessment were… disappointing. She seemed to have the mindset of an ordinary 11-year-old kid, not even being conditioned to be able to talk about the concept of death without discomfort, a trait implying a naivete and lack of desensitization he could use against her if she were to challenge him, but one that stuck out like a sore thumb in the context of considering her a suitable ally.
Either way, he had more work to do and more to find out about her true self. Luckily, his plan had already progressed swimmingly so far and he wouldn’t have to wait long for the real test to begin.
As Becky was about to say something, her enhanced hearing had caught a sound from inside the nearby building she was immediately worried to hear. Her sidekick was calling out to her in his language and banging on a door he was locked behind. Unbeknownst to her, Brandon could hear this with his own super hearing, too, as both made sure to not make visible reactions so as to retain their human covers.
“Huh,” he thought, “so the monkey did break out of the ropes and duct tape I found. Might mean he has non-Earthling strength, too, after all. Not that it changes anything.”
“Sorry to cut this short, Brandon,” Becky said hastily, getting up to walk toward the building, “but I gotta go. Thanks for the cookies.”
“Wait,” he said in the monotone voice he started their conversation with, “Before you go, just… don’t tell anyone about this… or me. The thing is…, that can’t happen, it’s just… not… good for anyone. Not for me, and it’s really, really not good for you.”
Puzzled and somewhat weirded out by his request, Becky replied only with, “Uh… okay, if that’s… what you… want.”
“Good, thanks. See ya.” he said, grabbing his backpack as Becky increased her pace to hurry away from the bench.
As she reached the door and opened it, she caught a glimpse of the area behind her, only to take a closer look around as she realized that Brandon seemed to have just… disappeared, while she was distracted for a few seconds. Not paying much mind to this, she ran into the building to find the primate.
Searching the second floor, she found the source of the sounds coming from a locked closet in the middle of the hallway, quickly finding the key and opening the door to find her fellow, Captain Huggyface, still in his uniform and not his cover attire, surrounded by ropes he had no doubt just tore his way through.
“You alright, Huggy?” she asked the monkey, receiving a response from him in return only she could understand before noticing that a sheet of paper was taped to his back.
“Someone tied you up in here, but they moved too fast for you to see them? Hold still, I just gotta get this off you,” she said, gently taking the tape off so as to not rip off any fur as she embraced him.
Removing the tape from the note, she and the simian let go so she could read whatever message was on this and maybe find out what on Earth was going on. Looking past the greeting clearly addressed to her alter ego, Becky found at least a clue to her answer.
“You’ve never heard of me, “ the note read, “No one in that city of yours has, but they will one day. Don’t worry about the monkey, or anyone I’ve had to get information from. I have no intention to harm them and they’ll be able to live their lives as usual. I’ve heard of your exploits and your power, but I want to know more than just some tall tales. I want to see the real you in the flesh.
“I’ve written directions on the back of this paper for you to follow. The route leads to an abandoned hotel where I will be waiting for you as soon as you receive this. Of course, I expect you to come alone, as this is between you and I, and I don’t want any interruptions, that includes the monkey, you won’t have much use for him here. If I see anyone but you even close to the destination, I can’t guarantee either the uninvited visitors’ safety or my presence.
“Simple as that, make your way here as soon as you get this. Face me and take this chance to show just how powerful you really are.”
At the bottom of the paper, in place of a signature, was a red sigil in the shape of two B's back to back with a thick crimson line running through it.
This was clearly something new for her, as unlike the usual villain plots that her rogues gallery throws her way, it just seemed… off, as if something were fundamentally different or wrong about whoever this person was compared to all the others, assuming this was just a new supervillain, of course.
(Cue Chasing Daylight - Scott Buckley)
“Huggy,” she began, unsure if she should finish her sentence, “I’m gonna need you to stay here in the city in case something happens while I’m away.” The monkey seemed to try to object out of concern for her safety, but she tried to reassure him as best she could.
“Look, we have no idea who this is yet and if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, I need you to call me on the communication belt in case whoever they are attack the city or something.”
The captain spoke up again, prompting her to say more in a tone not of arrogance or confidence, but one reflective of faith, “Huggy, you’ve done your best to help me control these powers since we first came to Earth together. I can handle my part in this, trust me.”
“Look,” she said, trying to preempt another panicked what-if from her friend, “I’ve been prepping a few back-up plans with stuff in the hideout in case we ever needed to separate.”
“...Yes, I have one involving that, too,” she said, annoyed at the recollection of what object the captain asked about stashed away in their crashed ship, “Really, I’ll be fine. I know we can do this. If all goes well, I’ll see you back at the ship, okay?” The chimp reluctantly nodded as they parted ways with him walking toward the lower floors and her making her way to the roof.
“Good luck…,” she said, looking back, “Captain.”
Standing just ahead of the edge of the rooftop opposite the one where the sunset shone brightest, Becky looked towards the sky as she took in a deep breath, leaving the thoughts of what she experienced on here behind as she prepared for the journey that was to come, though having super speed and flight definitely reduced the time needed and made travel less cumbersome.
Grabbing the note from her pocket, she perused the back to see where exactly this destination would be. Upon finishing it, she looked back up, her enhanced sight tracking the exact route specified by the directions with perfect visual clarity. With the path set before her, she stuffed the note back in her pocket before she looked up with a slight smile.
“Alright, ‘BB,’” she said, taking a step back and making sure no one was watching her, “ready or not, here I come.”
Becky sprinted toward the opposite ledge, gaining enough momentum just before reaching the edge to leap into the air as she placed a hand on her chest and shouted the two words that struck fear into the hearts of every evil-doer in Fair City.
“Word Up!”
Crimson gloves covered her hands, dark boots replaced her shoes, the suit bearing the symbol of Lexicon enveloped her form, and the flash of yellow light that initiated the process dissipated, as Becky raised her arms in front of her and flew away into the sunset.
Whoever this new challenger was, if they sought to lay a hand on the people of Fair City, they’d have to face their enforcer of justice, their very own superhero: WordGirl.
(Cue Jazz Theme - WordGirl OST)
In truth, it would only take mere seconds of flight for the Lexiconian to reach the desolate structure mapped on her would-be invitation. Though nightfall had beset the skies in this location, flying to another time zone was essentially child’s play for WordGirl and the darkness did little to obscure the utter dilapidation that reeked from this meeting place.
The building itself seemed mostly intact, as even the lights in the interior of the multi-story complex seemed functional despite the note saying that it was abandoned.
“Maybe it still is,” she thought, floating as she descended to ground level. Given the sender’s rapidity in pulling off a capture of the captain without her even hearing or noticing it, it may not be out of the question that they cleared out this complex in record time for this confrontation, too, and just didn’t tell her how recent the “abandonment” was. Regardless, she couldn’t hear a heartbeat, breathing, or any signs of life from inside, all but confirming that the hotel was currently completely empty.
Walking through the front doors into the hotel lobby, Becky looked around for any sign of her messenger or of that sigil left on the paper, to no immediate avail.
“Alright,” she called out, standing in the center of the lobby, “I’m here by myself like you asked. Hello? Where are you?”
No voice responded to her as she looked around the dimly lit room searching for any sign of abnormality, with the only noticeable sound being that of her boots contacting the tiled floor with every step.
(Music stops)
Crossing her arms with impatience, she thought about whether or not this was just some prank or a waste of her time. That is, until she suddenly heard static over the hotel’s P.A. system. Listening closely as she still didn’t hear a sign of life coming from inside the building, Becky heard as the audio fluctuated between static and what sounded like an old song she didn’t recognize with the lyric, “send her to me,” with the latter becoming more clear as the static lessened with every second.
Puzzled by the fact that the system turned on without any apparent movement or action from someone inside the hotel, she looked toward the small circular window toward the roof of the lobby, with everything in the night sky seeming normal… except for one noticeable alteration.
As the full moon shone, the sigil she had found at the bottom of the letter seemed to have been carved into its surface on the side facing Earth, as if the insignia had somehow been branded onto it. Before she could process this, she turned her gaze up toward the ceiling lights, as they started to flicker and dim before both they and the P.A. shut off completely. Looking back toward the moon, she saw something possibly even more worrisome.
(Cue Eurydice Pt. 2 - REPULSIVE)
In front of the moon, but at least several miles away from the window, if not further, she could barely make out a figure, humanoid in shape, floating effortlessly, as the only movement it displayed was what seemed to be some sort of tattered cape moving along with the wind on its back.
Before she could use her enhanced sight to get a better glimpse, the lights and P.A. reactivated, withdrawing her attention momentarily. Though, when she looked back toward the window, the figure was gone without a trace.
As she was about to call out to try to get a response like before, now that she knew that something, if not someone, was nearby, she noticed the audio change once again to the static, though with what sounded like a transmission of one phrase being repeated in a low, robotic, and inhuman voice.
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol.”
The phrase itself was unfamiliar to her, but WordGirl thought that she could at least try to decipher it with her knowledge of alien languages like her sidekick’s. Linguistics were a Lexiconian’s natural speciality after all. Placing her hand to her ear to try to gain a more precise listening to the exact words obscured by the static, she found that she could in fact, make out what was being communicated.
“Yychhagaro means… take… and…” She didn’t have to spend more than a few seconds to translate. “Take… the… world?”, she said, left with more questions than answers as unbeknownst to her, the figure from the window, currently hidden and observing her from a distance, took note.
She must be of a different species, he thought, given that she did not immediately recognize the message. Very well, every possible detail of knowledge could count in a scenario like this.
As Becky found the source of the sounds, a radio behind the desk in the lobby connected to the P.A. system, and turned it off, she saw the lights flicker again, albeit more noticeably and at a more frequent, but not quite rapid, pace than before. The radio turned on again, seemingly on its own, much to her bewilderment, only this time the static was much lower in volume and the message was repeated with less delay between the words.
Sighing and going to the desk to shut it off again, she called out, with a clear annoyance in her tone, “I know you can hear me, whoever you are! Show yourself and quit your stupid-”
The room went dead silent as the lights and the radio turned off in a simultaneous instant, leaving it in nearly complete pitch black darkness with the moonlight serving as the only source of light. However, with her enhanced sight, this didn’t prevent her from adjusting her vision and scanning her surroundings.
Looking toward the glass doors, she saw the figure from before standing still on the ground, though still at a significant distance from the entrance. Seconds later, as she moved toward the door to get a closer look, the lights and radio turned back on, prompting her to look back toward the desk as the message played at a more frantic and intense pace over and over again.
“Yychhagaro Larum Ghol. Yychhagaro Larum Ghol. Yychhagaro Larum Ghol,” the deep, demonic voice practically screamed loud enough to cause the audio to crackle. Becky, noticing the figure disappeared upon looking back at the entrance, frantically ran back to the radio and tried to shut it off as the light bulbs and panels began to flare up with electricity with each flicker, seeming as though they were about to burst.
“Why won’t this stay off?!?” she said to herself in an uneasy tone, worried more so about not knowing what exactly was going on than anything else, turning the radio off only for it to turn back on as soon as her finger ceased contact with the button, over and over again.
Further, she saw that the fogged up glass surfaces, windows and all, now sported the symbol of her presumed host in the form of small seals scattered across each one. Losing her patience, she walked toward the center of the lobby directly across from the doors.
“Stop saying that!” she yelled, barely containing her temper so as to have not smashed that radio into bits beforehand, “Who are you?!?”
(Music stops)
The silence returned as every electrical device in the vicinity deactivated, much to her partial relief for not having to listen to that voice anymore. This mood would not last as she turned around to face the door and beheld her answer. Standing just outside the glass door at a similar height to her own was a sight she could only imagine manifesting as a malevolent ghost in her darkest nightmares.
(Cue 1908 Vol. II - REPULSIVE)
The unmoving figure’s obscured clothing did not stick out to her much, as Becky’s vision fixated on its face and eyes. A crimson cloth mask, along with shoelaces tied around the mouth area, covered its face to give it the appearance of a predatory wasp staring down its prey.
But what kept her from uttering a syllable or moving a muscle was its glowing dark red irises, with black circles surrounding where its scleras should be, staring back at her as she looked into the abyss that was this… thing’s gaze, her body trembling and her breath quickening at a gradually increasing rate the longer their eyes locked. As Becky’s heart rate increased and her pupils contracted, part of her wanted to look away and run while another wanted to keep this up so that it couldn’t disappear again and get any closer.
“Look at you, impressing me already,” the masked alien thought as he stared at the expression of apprehension and barely concealed fear on his target’s face. She hadn’t gone into a panicked frenzy like those chickens he unconsciously used this power on on his family’s farm way back when, and she didn’t break down begging for him not to hurt her like the blonde human he used it on - Violet, if he remembered her name right - to find out WordGirl’s civilian identity mere minutes before he and Becky met - though he only found that out after saying that he would hurt neither in return for the girl’s information and silence, of course - , meaning it would take more than just his psychic fear manipulation to break her resilience or will.
“Music to my ears,” he thought, noting that he was already getting more satisfactory results than his previous assessment. Not to mention, had he not used the monkey as a distraction, she could have easily flown all the way here to Kansas at an even more remarkable speed than she already did. Luckily for him, he had no need to rush preparing the hotel for his purposes after leaving Fair City, as clearing the building out and disposing of the corpses - or what remained of them - before embarking on his trip was an easy task on his own time, even if the latter action was a tedious one.
The plan was already bearing fruit and her trial by fire hadn’t even truly begun yet.
(Music stops)
Becky’s visual focus would be distracted as a surge of electricity caused the inactive light bulbs mere feet away from the one directly above her to explode in a flash of light as glass shards scattered across the lobby floor. Upon looking back, she noticed that the figure that once stood in front of the entrance had seemingly disappeared in that interval, as the lights came back on, though with not a single sound coming out of the radio.
“Uh…” she let out meekly as she looked around in every direction, having not known where the phantom-esque being had gone since the pounding of her heart and her fearful state hindered her focus on pinpointing a heartbeat besides her own, “H-h-hello?”
Gasping as she turned around to face the doors just as she heard movement behind her, she only saw one of the twin doors swinging back and forth, indicating that she was no longer alone inside this room. Suddenly, every other light in the room exploded as the first did, leaving the room in darkness once again.
Trying to slow her breath and concentrate, the Lexiconian carefully scanned the room as she walked toward the desk, stopping just short of its counter.
From the opposite end of the room directly across from her, Brightburn stood prepared to take a first strike similar to the lunge he used against his first ever victim, as soon as Becky would turn around, so the real test could start.
Taking a pause in her tracks as she suddenly heard a second heartbeat, Becky slowly turned around to find its source. Upon stopping, she made eye contact with two circular orbs, their glow growing in intensity and bright red.
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(Cue Battle the Dahaka - Stuart Chatwood)
Pouncing forward like a jaguar at breakneck speed with both fists outstretched in front of him, Brandon’s surprise attack directly connected with the hero’s chest, causing her to hurtle backward, smashing the desk to bits from the sheer force and crashing into the wall, leaving large cracks across its surface.
Before she could stand back up, the conqueror grabbed his opponent and threw her through the ceiling as she impacted against the upper boundary of the building’s second floor. The rapid onslaught continued as before she could even open her eyes and face her attacker, Brightburn repeatedly punched her in the same spot with one hand as her body was sent back and forth between the ceiling and his strike like a paddleball, only ending after the fifth punch as he grabbed her with both hands and, with a yell of exertion, launched her across the hallway into the wall on the side farthest from their position.
With no visible damage on her person, WordGirl picked herself back up as she looked around the lightless hall, not seeing where the assailant had gone as she cautiously flew toward the opening in the floor.
Suddenly, Brandon flew through the leftward wall, his fist connecting with Becky’s cheek before flying through the opposite side and out of sight as she fell backward from the impact. Retaining the initiative, he repeated this action as she saw him burst through a new opening in the rightward wall, landing a hit on the other side of her face, causing her to stumble before she regained her balance, trying to focus her super hearing to get a read on where the next attack could come from.
“Geez, he’s quick, and those felt almost as strong as my hits,” she muttered to herself as she floated, before coming to a realization as the building shook from the impact what she assumed was one of his strikes to the exterior to destabilize it, judging by his distant yell just before the structure shook from a second hit.
“Wait,” she wondered, “if I could feel your hands physically, then that means… you’re not a ghost…”
“Woah!” she let out as a bare hand broke through the floor, gripping her right ankle tightly as it dragged her front-first through the surface back to the lobby. Just before her face could hit the lobby’s tile, she regained her focus mid-air, flying toward the other side of the room as she broke out of Brightburn’s grasp with a kick to the wrist from her free leg.
Catching a right-handed punch in her left hand, her expression of uncertainty turned to one of slight pleasure and relief as she got a closer look at her opponent.
“You’re a new supervillain!” she said with a giggle as the boy’s eyes flared up, glowing brighter. Ducking a strike from his left fist, Becky responded by shoving Brandon off of her to the other end of the room before the latter stopped his own momentum, floating just in front of the wall.
Flying just above the ground, the two rushed toward each other, their right-handed punches colliding and sending a shockwave throughout the room that shattered every light and glass object in the vicinity.
The two broke their singular clash as they connected with strike after strike, making shockwave after shockwave at speeds faster than any normal human eye could keep track of, only visible via streaks of red and yellow flying around the lobby as even they could barely hear their own grunts over the sounds of the environment shaking as if it were experiencing an earthquake confined to only one room.
From outside the building, bright flashes could be seen from the hotel’s center from window to window as the combatants moved up from floor to floor, with each glass pane either shattering in place or fragmenting and exploding outright as the sounds of combustions from their collisions or from one throwing the other through the next ceiling continued until the pattern culminated at the top floor below the roof.
As a large cloud of dust settled within the top floor hallway, WordGirl wiped specks of sediment off of her suit and looked around, noticing that her new adversary had taken the opportunity to hide away from her sight before the dust cleared.
Knowing her enemy was tangible rather than paranormal was a definite relief, seeing as she never fought a ghost, but a physical being that wanted to take her on? That’s just an average day of crime-fighting for WordGirl, she thought.
Plus, she had superpowers. It was a lot less scary as soon as she remembered that.
If nothing else, it was an escape to take her mind off of Violet, or any of her worries back in Fair City, for that matter.
“Hello?” she called out in a more playful tone, as if she were playing a game of hide and seek, unaware of Brightburn hiding on the ceiling behind her, arms and legs held to the surface like a spider.
“You know I have super hearing, right? Hiding isn't gonna do much,” she continued, turning around only to see nothing as she stood before the opening in the floor before flying over it to get a closer look at her opponent’s former hiding spot.
Sighing, Becky called out again, “Come on, new guy, come back here.” As she looked in all forward directions, Brandon slowly rose up through the opening from behind her as she talked before his shoes touched the ground just inches from her back.
“I mean, seriously,” she said, as the boy’s eyes glowed behind her, “You tell me to come here and you won’t even let me see you? It’s rude to leave guests hanging, you know.” A tinge of excitement crept into WordGirl’s voice as she continued, somewhat enjoying the thrill of this encounter. “Come on, you wanted this so badly? I’m right here. Bring it!”
(Music stops)
Turning around and seeing a now-familiar red glare, the Lexiconian’s smile turned to an awkward expression as her somewhat agitated masked counterpart grabbed the collar of her suit with his left hand. Using his free right hand, Brightburn punched her square in the face with more force than previous strikes, repeating the rapid motion a second time, then a third and fourth, before finally reeling back for just a second to hit hardest on his fifth.
“Okay, you brought it,” she said groggily with a dizzy expression as stars matching her symbol circled around her head, though she still lacked visible damage, as a bewildered Brandon unwittingly loosened his grip.
(Cue Conflict at the Entrance - Stuart Chatwood)
With the stars disappearing as she shook her head and regained her focus, WordGirl dodged another punch as the conqueror’s hand slipped from her collar. In the next split second, she flew both backward and towards the floor to dropkick her adversary in the chest, launching him into the ceiling, back first, and leaving a large crack in the plaster. As the impact sent him downward, he felt himself be intercepted mid-air with a right elbow to the stomach that launched him across the room, with him finally crashing into a nightstand holding a flower pot at the end of the hallway as his head broke through the latter and dirt and petals spilled over his head upon landing.
As Brandon sat slouched over on the floor with his back to the wall, his would-be quarry gently floated towards him.
“So what’s your gimmick?” she asked, with a casual tone, “Dr. Two-Brains is obsessed with cheese, Tobey has his robots, what’s your thing?”
As she continued, Brandon’s head turned slightly upward, looking past the dirt covering his eyes as it had spilled across his outfit, toward her, momentarily puzzled at how… unserious she seemed about this, for lack of a better term crossing his mind to describe it.
“I’m guessing the mask has something to do with it and we both have superpowers, but besides that, I can’t really get a read on what your schtick is-”
Brandon’s eyes flared red as he cut off her ramble at the word “is” with a telekinetic blast of pure force without moving, sending her screaming and hurtling into an open elevator all the way on the opposite side of the top floor. Her back slamming against the back of the elevator with a thud, she landed on the floor in a sitting position somewhat similar to the one Brandon was in, blinking twice before she processed what just happened.
“Did… did he just throw me across the hall with his mind?” she asked herself, stunned as she shook her head and got up to press the button to send the elevator to the lobby after noticing that her counterpart had vanished out of sight again.
As the gap between the doors narrowed, she thought to herself aloud, “Super strength, speed, durability, and telekinesis? How many powers does this guy have?” Just as the doors were about to close, they abruptly halted to Becky’s concern, just before two pale, bloodied hands, one grasping each door, slowly opened them with ease, revealing Brightburn’s eyes staring into her own without a hint of physical stress or effort visible as the doors futilely tried to resist his grip.
“Okay,” she said, concern turning to dispassion, “now that’s just showing off.”
Growling in mild frustration before letting go of the doors, Brandon launched forward and rammed Becky into the wall. The sounds of the two exchanging blows could be heard as the doors closed and the elevator began its descent.
The lift shook with every move as the metal walls dented, the elevator’s ceiling lights shattered, and the floor was punctured, as a result of either missed attacks or one slamming the other into the surfaces of the interior. At around the halfway point of the journey to the bottom floor, the elevator’s cables, already loosening from the impacts of the fight inside the lift, completely snapped, leading to the structure rapidly falling before violently crashing at the bottom of the shaft.
(Music pauses)
“Ding!” A chime from the lobby’s elevator entrance, indicating the lift’s arrival, rang out after a few seconds of silence.
(Music resumes)
The doors flew off their hinges as Brightburn was launched across the lobby, breaking through several walls before abruptly stopping in a hotel library as he crashed into a bookcase. As he fell flat on the ground face-first from the impact, the bookcase toppled over and landed on top of him, scattering several books across the floor. As the rubble settled, Brandon heard a voice as its source came closer to him.
“You know, you haven’t said anything at all during this entire fight,” WordGirl said, gently floating with her arms crossed and a tone of confusion, “Usually, supervillains start off by explaining their plans or monologuing at me like,” she continued, attempting a Dr. Two-Brains impression for her next line, “‘You will never stop me, muahahahahaha!’ You know, something cheesy like that. But you, you just charged at me right away and I don’t even know your name. Speaking of, is your BB symbol an abbreviation or something?”
(Music stops)
Getting no immediate response, the Lexiconian assumed a misunderstanding and indulged her habit, “Oh, an abbreviation is a shortened form of a word or phrase, like if someone were to call me WG, that would be an abbreviation for WordGirl.”
(Music resumes)
One second of silence after Becky finished her definition, the killer telekinetically threw the bookcase right toward her face as she crossed her arms in front of her eyes just in time to intercept it, causing the wooden structure to explode, wooden fragments and stray pages littering in front of her. Before she had time to react, she saw two red glowing dots past the resulting dust cloud as Brandon rammed his fist against her cheek to send her flying back as the two resumed their exchange of blows as they dashed from place to place across the room.
“Okay…” the annoyed superboy thought, “she’s clearly not taking this seriously enough. I’m gonna take care of that.”
With each kick and punch, Brandon simultaneously used his telekinesis to throw various objects from multiple directions to maintain a multipronged offense against his adversary, such as a chandelier he shattered on her head or other bookshelves tossed at her sides and back to interrupt her focus on him as she had to dodge and block them.
In the center of the library, both combatants stalled as they attempted a punch with their right hand that was caught by their opponent’s left. Their grips tightened as they stared each other down, the increasing application of force causing the floor below their feet to crack, with the opening widening the longer the standoff continued.
The pair’s eyes locked as Becky’s face showed signs of straining as small drops of sweat covered her forehead, all while Brandon was similarly stressed, his intensely focused eyes betraying his otherwise veiled expression behind his mask. As the Lexiconian’s irises showed hints of a yellow glow to them, Brightburn’s own resembled circles of magma in color, in contrast to the normalcy of the rest of his eyes.
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol,” he heard in his head.
Brandon’s eyes widened and a blood-red glow engulfed them as he channeled telekinetic energy to shatter every surrounding window in the room before thrusting the resulting glass shards at his distracted opponent all at once. Noticing what was going on, Becky broke their lock and shielded her eyes, just to not take chances, and braced herself with only a split second to spare as her suit was pelted with dozens, if not hundreds, of sharp fragments that would have torn a human into mincemeat from all directions.
A nanosecond after the barrage of shards subsided with any that stuck to the suit having fallen off, a flurry of bookshelves and other objects surrounded the hero, with Brightburn aiming to envelop her in a pile of wood, books, and miscellaneous junk held together in place by his mere thought. Shortly after he clasped his hands together to concentrate his handiwork, the makeshift trap burst into wooden and paper splinters in the blink of an eye as WordGirl pushed outwards with all four limbs before returning to a normal floating position ready to continue as Brandon covered his face from any incoming debris.
“Well,” he thought, lowering his arms to re-engage as the scraps fell to the ground, “She could break out of that with ease. Good, we’re just getting started.”
As the conqueror flew forwards at the speed of sound for his next punch, Becky lifted her arms to intercept the blow before Brandon seemingly vanished in the blink of an eye, with the only sign of his direction being a blur that sped to her right. Turning her head to the right, then to left, to see where her enemy had gone, Becky’s super hearing detected an incoming movement from just behind her as Brandon flew toward her back with both fists outstretched. Just before his attack could connect, Becky moved slightly to her left and, following his narrow miss, grabbed his left arm with both hands and flipped him over her shoulder, breaking through the floor as Brandon’s back impacted it.
Holding Brandon’s chest down with her left hand as she prepared a punch to his face with her right, Becky’s attempt was interrupted as he kicked his right leg upward, the tip of his sneaker hitting the center of her forehead and making her stumble backward and let him go. As she held her left hand to her sore forehead and her eyes closed, Brandon took the opportunity to quickly push himself up back into a standing position, floating above the ground at the same height as she was, to prepare his next test.
Becky opened her eyes just in time to see Brightburn’s eyes charging up, before she instinctively ducked as two red plasma-like beams of scorching heat blasted out of them, feeling the high temperature radiate off of them as she watched them pass over her. The killer quickly made a 360 degree turn to rapidly burn through any surface or object the lasers made contact with before ending his concentrated blast as he faced Becky again. Her pupils narrowed as she looked at Brandon, the signs of his maneuver made clear.
The aroma of smoke filled the air, any paper caught in the blast was now on fire, every wall had been cut through like butter, and black char marks littered every spot the beams had hit. Becky quickly regained her composure, as well as an irritated look, after a second of processing her opponent’s newly-shown power.
“Oh, now, this is getting ridiculous!” she said, before the two flew towards each other and continued their fisticuffs at supersonic speeds.
“So she doesn’t have my heat vision,” Brandon thought, “Noted. Definitely an indication that she’s not from whatever world I came from, if not knowing my kind’s language wasn’t enough proof. Then again, maybe she has a different power in lieu of that. You sure know how to keep me interested, Becky.”
“This guy’s even stronger than Miss Power!” WordGirl said internally amidst the back-and-forth exchange of strikes, “Not sure if he’s from wherever she came from, though. Could he be from Lexicon? It’d definitely explain how he’s keeping up with me so well. Alright, whatever you are, BB, looks like I’m gonna have to show you that us Lexiconians don’t go down easy.”
The two stopped as they grappled each other at the end of a row of bookshelves, just before Brandon charged forward, both flying through bookcase after bookcase at breakneck speeds as they continually spun around as each tried to make sure the other’s back would take the brunt of the damage. At the end of the now destroyed row, Becky punched Brandon’s chest to send him flying toward the ceiling before noticing something on the floor at the other side of the room that caught her attention: a copy of Superheroes and You: A Practical Guide by Steven Boxleitner, the former identity of Dr. Two-Brains.
“Hey,” she said smiling as she lowered herself to stand on the ground, “I didn’t know that was published outside the city. I learned a lot of my superhero skills from that,” sighing, she continued, “I remember it like it was just yesterday. Almost as vividly as the issue of my parents’ newspaper I read on their doorstep as a baby, funny enough. I always loved to do the crossword-”
Her reminiscing was cut off as a shot of heat vision from where she had thrown Brandon barely avoided her, resulting in the beam hitting the book instead and setting the pages on fire. With a quick gasp at the sight, the Lexiconian’s expression turned to one of anger as she looked back up at her impatient opponent.
“Oh, it is on.” she said in a low, agitated voice as her fists clenched, levitating off the floor before blasting off into the air fast enough to appear as a light yellow streak.
From the outside of the already ravaged building, the sounds of its walls, including the previously untouched ones, being repeatedly broken through in the midst of the battle within could be heard for miles, with the hotel looking as if it could barely hold its own weight.
Within the hotel’s lobby, a glowing streak flew into the room, stopping as in its place, WordGirl appeared floating under the ceiling, across from the center of the window where she first saw her new challenger’s mark on the moon. As the moonlight shone through the cracked glass, Becky looked around as she turned her back to the window, focusing her super hearing to detect even the slightest movement so as to not be caught off guard, now taking this fight a bit less casually than before.
Her ears perked up and her eyes slightly widened as she heard someone flying straight towards her from just a few feet away. As Brandon’s figure was partially obscured by darkness with the exception of his eyes, his red-stained hand reached outward to grab the back of his target’s neck. As his fingertips were mere inches away from her collar, Becky’s head slightly turned toward him, processing what was happening so rapidly that she perceived her surroundings as if they were in slow motion before saying one word with a slight smile.
“Gotcha.”
(Cue Obi-Wan to the Rescue - Kevin Kiner)
Before Brandon could even think, Becky quickly turned around and impacted his stomach with a right uppercut harder than any blow dealt by either combatant thus far, knocking the wind out of him as he was stunned in mid-air. The resulting shockwave sent every last ounce of glass remaining in the circular window outward while cracking both the ceiling and every wall in the vicinity.
Just a second afterward, though perceived as much slower by WordGirl, she threw her body backward in mid-air to hit Brandon with a bicycle kick to his head, her right boot connecting between his eyes just above his nose, sending him hurtling through the window, as well as through the glass before the shards could even descend from where they had first been displaced, leaving the window a completely open hole as the boy hurtled off into the distance.
“Gooooaaaal!” Becky cheered, smiling with her arms outstretched as she regained a right side up position.
Outside the hotel, Brandon spun out of control as he descended toward the ground a long distance away from the front entrance toward a patch of grass, denting the ground as he skidded across the fields, his first impact on his back, his second on his side, and then a third and final face-first landing as he was laid out on his stomach with his cape caught on his face. Attempting to get up before falling into a sitting position, adjusting his cape by flipping it back over him, and clearing the dirt from his mask and vest, Brandon contemplated his next move.
“Alright,” he thought, panting and still trying to catch his breath, “She’s definitely got the strength to at least keep up with me, even if I’m holding back and not trying to kill her outright right now. No problem, I’ll just have to vary my tactics a bit.”
Standing up and looking toward the hotel where he could make out Becky’s figure near the window, Brandon outstretched his arms to help concentrate his telekinesis, groaning as the ground shook both beneath and behind him. As he raised his arms, a large piece of the ground five times his size was severed from the rest of the plain, levitating at his mental command before he threw it from behind him by motioning his hands forward, toward his target’s location.
Flying in the direction of where he had gone, the hero was caught off guard by the sudden sight of a large chunk of dirt and rock hurtling towards her, forcing her to stop mid-air to punch it into several fragments to avoid it causing further unnecessary collateral damage to the building behind her. Reaching just a few yards away from Brandon, she had to divert from her straight path to avoid and scatter several other earthly projectiles he had ripped out of the ground to throw at her.
Avoiding the second, smaller one and the splattering the third, larger one with a single kick, Becky continued flying full speed ahead toward the boy before she suddenly felt herself unwillingly stop in place.
“Huh?” she muttered to herself before realizing she was being telekinetically held in place. As she looked at him face-to-face, Brandon outstretched his left hand, his palm facing her eyes, launching her through the air all the way back toward the roof without even touching her.
Screaming as she flew upward before finally crashing onto the edge of the roof, WordGirl pulled herself back up into a sitting position to dust off the sleeves and front of her suit. Looking up toward the moon, she was momentarily startled to see Brightburn descending from above toward her with his right arm reeled back, yelling in exertion. As she quickly flew toward the other edge of the roof and out of the way, Brandon’s right fist connected with the tiles, making a crater in the structure as his shoes touched the rooftop.
(Cue Beginning of the End - Spineshank)
Eyes still glowing, the killer looked behind him to see his counterpart standing on the opposite side of the structure. As the hero stood at the left-most edge of the rooftop and Brandon turned around to face her from the right-most position, the two stared each other down for only a moment before rushing toward the center of the roof where they clashed forearms, resuming their combat.
Trying to retake the initiative with a rapid offense, Brandon ducked under his opponent’s right hook before holding her arm in place and kneeing her in the abdomen twice, jumping to kick her in the same area, and finally leaping over her head to elbow the back of her scalp in quick succession, as she bent over from the impact. As WordGirl regained her position and attempted a left hook, her punch was intercepted by Brandon as he gripped her wrist with his left hand, twisting her arm slightly backward and pushing it away from her torso to leave an opening so he could deliver two right kicks to her chest.
Going for a jab of his own, Brandon’s fist was caught by Becky’s free hand before the latter headbutted him to give her time to prepare her next move. As the momentum between the two superkids shifted with every hit, they quickly thought of a longer-term strategy to use against each other.
“Her body seems pretty much as durable as mine, with no obvious weak points,” the conqueror pondered, “Then again, maybe I can make an opening of my own. Her right leg seems to be her dominant one, considering the force behind that kick to my head. Probably plays soccer or something. If I target the ankle enough, the soreness might slow her down and leave her vulnerable.”
“So if this guy’s not gonna be talked out of this and he can shrug off an average blow from me,” the Lexiconian thought, “I don’t think there’s a specific achilles heel I can count on to take him down... Wait! I’m not sure if he needs that left hand of his to focus more powerful telekinesis or not, but if I can target his left arm, and he’s already applying pressure to his dominant right hand to rapidly hit the majority of his punches with, then maybe I can wear him down to the point where he’ll end up dishing less and less out until he’s exhausted.”
Grabbing each other’s shoulders, each combatant landed one hook to their opponent’s face at a time, with two for each landing before Brandon attempted to break the cycle with a kick to Becky’s right ankle.
Letting go of Brandon’s left shoulder to catch his leg, WordGirl held his leg in place as she attempted a knee to his stomach, with the move missing his torso and hitting just below it.
(Music pauses)
Both combatants’ eyes widened as Brandon felt the full impact of the blow on his groin, still holding onto Becky’s collar with a tightening grip as he closed his eyes and muffled a groan of pain, his tightly closed lips disguised by his mask.
“Oh…” WordGirl said, her mouth slightly agape and an expression of discomfort on her face as she realized where she hit instead, let go and backed away, “I am so sorry, are you okay? Can I get you some ice for that or something?”
Brandon, clenching his fists as tightly as he could and keeping himself from keeling over, opened his eyes and looked at Becky, an expression of bafflement at her concern on his covered face as he blinked twice.
(Music resumes)
With a snarl of aggravation, the conqueror pounced on his target, his right hand holding her by the throat and crashing her through the roof. From a view of the exterior, one could see the series of shockwaves resume from room to room as the two’s melee prolonged. The right-most wall of the building was suddenly burst through as Brandon emerged from the debris, his back having impacted the wall.
“Is that a ‘no’?” Becky asked, her voice coming from inside the building as the boy regained his focus and his eyes flared up once more. Angrily flying back inside to charge toward the center, the next image that could be seen from an external view was WordGirl suddenly bursting through the ceiling as a result of being knocked into the sky from one of her opponent’s harder punches. As she disappeared into the thickening clouds, Brandon smashed through the remaining supports of the building, emerging from the leftward side of the complex, flying towards his quarry into the stratosphere as the hotel finally collapsed into rubble.
Slowing down as she recovered from the blow, Becky stopped and looked around, not seeing any sign of Brightburn amidst the clouds. From behind her, Brandon took the opportunity to charge toward her side and drive a hard right kick directly onto her right ankle, causing her to momentarily wince in pain before she looked toward his direction and landed a right-handed punch targeting his left forearm. As Brandon backed away in slight pain from the blow, Becky charged at him and spear tackled him through a cloud.
As the storm clouds gathered, a view from the ground could make out several of them seemingly being dispersed into smaller pieces at apparently random locations, the sounds of thunder mixing with those of sonic booms emitted by the combatant’s blows in the distance.
A red streak stopped its path in the middle of a cloud formation, revealing Brightburn drenched in dew as he turned from side to side, having lost track of his adversary’s movements. Focusing straight ahead, Brandon was blindsided by the sight of his cape being flipped over his head, just before its ends were tied around his torso to keep him distracted by the red blanket now covering his face.
Taking advantage of her handiwork, Becky grabbed onto his back, crossing her legs around his forearms and upper abdomen to pin his arms while her left hand held onto his shoulder to support herself, before balling her right into a fist to repeatedly bonk him on the top of his head as if hitting him with a cartoon mallet.
Knocking the Lexiconian off of him with a backward thrust of his head to her face in addition to applying telekinetic force along with the physical force dealt, Brandon untied the loose knot tying his cape via telekinesis in tandem with his flipping the cape back over his head. His eyes now visible to Becky, she quickly saw his eyes’ glow intensify as he saved up energy for another shot of heat vision.
Following a brief exchange of fisticuffs, Brandon managed to land an uppercut followed by a release of his charged up heat vision for a quick blast of energy to his opponent’s midsection, though it only knocked her back rather than burning or cutting her as his more focused rays did to the library walls, his combo culminating in a downward punch to send her reeling toward the ground as he flew after her.
Stopping herself mid-air just next to an overhead power line, Becky had little time to process Brandon’s next move as he grabbed her by her suit and threw her against the lines, though only hard enough for her to get caught on them and for the wires to get tangled around her neck. Dodging his next punch while somewhat choking on the power lines, Becky reached out to grab Brandon by the cape and tie the edges, albeit with a better knot this time, around the wires in a split second, leaving them both temporarily bound to the lines as they tried to grapple each other, dampening the lines and chipping away at the insulation as the dew-soaked fighters jockeyed for position, though not quite enough to sever the conductors from the poles suspending them in place.
As both supers were focused on each other, with Becky gripping Brandon’s vest and shirt, and the latter grasping her suit, amidst a slowly building drizzle, their super hearing caught a low rumbling sound emanating from the sky, looking above to see storm clouds forming at their location. Their faces donned a look of concern as they looked down to see that not only were they both tangled in the now-exposed conductors that were barely kept in place by the leaning utility poles, but that they and the wires were both covered in moisture, all while they heard a much louder rumble come from above.
Looking each other in the eye, both had only one thing to say in unison.
(Music stops)
“Uh oh.”
(Cue Hit the Road Jack - Wolfgang Lohr & Maskarade)
A large bolt of lightning struck an exposed part of the copper wire, overloading the already strained conductor with electrical energy, electrocuting both combatants for several seconds before the wires between them overloaded, an explosion of sparks bursting at the epicenter of their struggle sending the two hurtling away in opposite directions.
After flying backward all the way to a far off dirt road near the gas station he had read the papers that fateful day, Brandon landed on his back in a large puddle, which conveniently for him, extinguished the electrical fire that had been set on the lower portion of his now straightened cape. Sitting up with his entire body soaked, Brandon sighed in mild annoyance. Getting on one knee and giving a right punch to the ground below him to help launch himself with more force, the boy flew into the air, intent on hunting and finding his prey.
In a park area a few miles away, Becky crashed into a sandpit, the sediments piling on top of her as her momentum halted. Sitting up in a daze with her hair frizzled and sprouting in some areas from the previous electrical shock, the girl felt mostly undamaged.
“When you regularly fight a monster straight up made of electricity, you get used to this kinda thing,” she thought, shaking her head to regain focus and return her hair to its normal straight look. After releasing a small amount of sand from her mouth with a cough, she went about dusting sand off of her suit when she saw a volleyball net right behind her.
Thinking for a second and coming up with an idea, she decided to fly up to the net and check how much it could stretch without breaking. After leaning back slowly, stretching it backward further until she was satisfied with its range, she smiled to herself as she let go of the net and flew to the end of the pit furthest from it before letting herself touch the ground.
“Get a load of this, double B,” she said, before flying forward toward the net to launch herself, turning around so her back faced it, but stopping as she felt a crunching sensation throughout parts of her costume and sighed, “... right after I get all this sand off me.”
Meanwhile, Brandon flew in the general direction of where the girl had gone, though not far enough to reach the park as he looked around to scout his surroundings. Turning around to face where he had come from, his enhanced hearing suddenly picked up a noise coming from behind him, as he focused his attention on the sound without facing it. From what he could make out, it sounded like some kind of pressure was being applied to… a net?
“Wa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Quickly turning around upon hearing the giddy, triumphant laughter behind him as the distance between him and its source decreased, Brandon didn’t even have time to blink as he was met with a flying lariat as Becky had launched with enough momentum to not only knock the daylights out of him, but to cause him to spin in place in mid-air, flipping upside down about five times in quick succession before he could slow down.
Finally stopping right side up, Brandon shook his head to get his bearings before looking around only to see no sign of the Lexiconian. Facing straight forward again, he blinked twice and widened his eyes in astonishment.
“What?” he asked aloud to himself, perplexed at her sudden uptick in force and speed, though not panicked as he felt he could keep up with her regardless.
In a flash, the conqueror felt himself be suddenly shoved by an attack from behind him, though it occurred so fast he wasn’t immediately sure of how she specifically did so, crashing into the ground all the way toward the grassy fields right next to the park area’s sandpit before starting to lift himself back up on his hands and knees.
“What?!” he thought, stunned before attempting to stand up. However, his attempt would be interrupted, as a yellow blur appeared to spin around Brandon at Mach speeds, creating a small hurricane that caught him in its winds, swinging him around at the same dizzying speeds as the makeshift tornado spun at, with the velocity increasing with every lap.
“Whoah-ohh-ah!” he let out.
Stopping her flight for only a millisecond, Becky interrupted Brandon with an uppercut that sent him screaming into the air, spinning out of control as it took several miles of distance for him to descend and crash through the roof of a wooden shack in a house’s backyard.
As the wood piled on top of him, a yellow streak traveled to a spot a good distance away from the shack, finishing as the girl appeared in the streak’s place, looking upon her results while levitating above the ground with her arms crossed and a content smile. WordGirl’s expression changed to one of slight disgust as she recognized the shack as an outhouse.
“Yikes, really hope it’s just the wood I have to clean up after this,” she muttered to herself.
Within the pile of planks, Brightburn slightly groaned, not out of pain, but out of irritation. Following this, a flurry of wood was telekinetically thrown Becky’s way as makeshift projectiles en masse, as she batted away each piece, though not hard enough to shatter them.
“Oh, no,” she said sarcastically, a bored expression on her face as she casually deflected the lumber with only simple waves of one arm per piece, “Whatever will I do against the power of timber?”, rolling her eyes at the last word. If he wasn’t going to talk, she reasoned, then maybe bugging a response out of him would at least suffice, just to get a better understanding of what this was all about.
As she carelessly looked away, Brandon landed a surprise punch to her cheek, seemingly coming out of nowhere and knocking her back several feet as she tumbled across the ground before Brandon caught up to her and gripped the back of her helmet with his right hand. Pressing her face against the dirt, Brightburn dragged her body through the field as he flew until they had reached the park again where, seeing a nearby basketball court, he ascended toward one of the hoops while maintaining his grip and dunked her through it head first, the hoop ripping down and breaking off the backboard as she hit the ground.
With Brandon floating backward to plan his next attack, Becky sat up with the hoop still around her neck as she looked down at it, then at the nearby rack of basketballs, and then back at Brandon with what appeared to be a look of realization.
“Oh, so this is your gimmick!” she said with a tone of subtle faux obliviousness, “BB must mean basketball, why didn’t I think of that? Doesn’t really explain everything else, though, if I’m being frank.”
Dumbfounded with his eye on the verge of twitching, Brandon simply facepalmed, a low sigh muffled by his mask as he remained unamused by both her casualty and her apparent mockery.
As soon as his palm left his eyes, his forehead was suddenly hit by a basketball at supersonic velocity he perceived only just as it obscured his vision, knocking him backward and out of sight from the court. Rebounding off of his head, the ball flew backwards before being caught by the girl with both hands, her neck now free of the hoop as her expression was one of smugness.
“Then again,” she said, the ball spinning on her left index finger as her right arm was placed on her hip, “not the oddest one from my rogues gallery.”
In an instant, a streak of red rammed into Becky, knocking her out of view and knocking the ball in the air as Brandon stopped, catching it and chucking it in her direction like a dodgeball before chasing its path toward her. As the sound of the ball colliding with its target’s stomach and their subsequent attempts at grappling each other could be heard in the distance far from the sandpit, one could make out the Lexiconian’s casual voice amidst their flight.
“You know,” she said, “a simple ‘no’ would’ve gotten your point across way better. Just sayin’. I should know, words are kinda my thing.”
Flying backward from another hit, Becky ducked under the net as she regained her footing at the edge of the sandpit, seeing her opponent fly over it toward her. Intercepting him before his next move could be made, Becky’s punch sent him flying into the net before he bounced off of it back toward her, followed by a casual kick to his back sending him toward the netting again. As Brandon was casually punched into the net cyclically, Becky looked away from him as she put her free hand to her mouth and let out a false yawn.
As she made another jab, the lack of contact with anything prompted her to look forward, seeing Brightburn standing in front of the net, apparently unfazed and without any sign of wear.
“Alright, I think I’ve humored you enough,” the conqueror thought as the two reeled their fists back for another clash before charging toward each other… only for them to start slap fighting like ordinary kids.
(Music pauses)
Meanwhile, an old woman walking on a curb near the park stops, hands resting on her cane, as she caught a glimpse of what looked and sounded to her like two costumed youngsters roughhousing off in the distance.
“Hey, not the eye, buster!” she heard a young female voice say, as the two appeared to be moving away from the sandpit. Smiling as she reminisced on all the mini brawls she saw the neighborhood kids partake in in her youth, the old woman tried to raise her frail voice with an endearing tone.
“Have fun, ya scamps!” she called out raspily with a wave, “stay safe and out of the streets, okay?” Placing her hand back on her cane, she sighed and whispered to herself, “Kids, heh-heh.” She then went on walking down the sidewalk, thinking nothing more of the circumstance.
Back to the fight, about five seconds of slapping passed before a thought occurred to Brandon which made him stop and step back as he realized the inaness of what they were doing. Two seconds of awkward silence between the two occurred before Becky spoke up.
“I was totally winning that, by the way,” she said with a smirk and a snorting chuckle, before the boy grabbed her and flew upward back toward the sky at super speed, where they once again exchanged blows.
(Music resumes)
After a flurry of untraceable movements outside of a few shockwaves in the sky, the two stood levitating over 100 feet away from each other, crouching as they prepared to clash again. Flying at mach speed toward each other with their arms and fists extended outward, the supes collided, creating a sonic boom that sent both combatants careening out of control in opposite directions due to the unexpected amount of force they weren’t prepared to generate or take.
(Music stops)
“Well, from what ah heard about that city a’ yours, I’d much rather be there at night than ‘round here,” the man said from behind the gas station counter, addressing a perky female customer, “Does your police chief really eat his hat that often?”
“Yeah, we have plenty of oddballs in Fair City,” she said, “but we’ve got our own superhero, so you won’t find me complaining.”
“Sure it beats having to worry about a flyin’ alien nutcase blowin’ up the whole town god knows when for god knows what reason.”
“An alien? Funny thing, I think we’ve had one or two of those come by and stir up trouble before. She usually took care of it, though. Heck, maybe if we could get her to come here, she could help with your guy, too.”
“Hmph,” the man scoffed with a smile, “I wish. Tell you what, if your wonder girl ever shows up here and gets rid of that freak, I’ll eat mah hat.”
As the two shared a laugh, the woman’s attention was diverted as she tried to narrow her eyes toward the entrance to make out something through the automatic sliding doors’ reflective surfaces, “Hey, do you see something?”
Retaining his smile while prompted to look in the same direction, his casual expression slowly turned to one of confusion with a narrowed gaze, and then, as his eyes widened, one of realization and terror.
“Holy jumpin’ giblets!” he shouted, looking back at the customer before she jumped behind the counter and both crouched and covered their heads. The doors suddenly flew off their hinges as something broke right through them before crashing into one of the beverage coolers, unhinging the cooler door as it and a nearby shelf full of bagged snacks shook and fell over on top of them as a result of the impact.
As the two peered out from underneath the counter to see what happened, while the man was still apprehensive, the woman’s fears were replaced by giddiness as a gloved hand came out of the pile with a thumbs up, as a voice familiar to her spoke up.
“I’m okay,” WordGirl said, sluggishly, “Sorry about the mess, I’ll clean up.”
“Well, speak of the devil,” the man said in pleasant disbelief as he and the woman stood back up, the latter smiling widely and barely containing herself from fangirling.
Meanwhile, in the same backyard where Brandon had first crashed through the outhouse, the boy fell out of the sky onto the ground, rebounding off the dirt and landing in a large above-ground swimming pool. With one hand grabbing onto the ledge from within the water, Brandon dragged himself out and collapsed onto the grass, soaked and laying back against the pool trying to catch his breath.
“Alright,” he thought, breathing heavily, “If the circumstances leading up to here were any different, I’d have half a mind to eviscerate you… and then the space monkey.”
“Oh, hi there, lil’ fella,” he heard a groggy voice say a good distance from him as he slowly turned his head toward its source. A clearly intoxicated man - on what aside from alcohol, Brandon wasn’t sure - sat in a lawn chair with a smile on his face as he seemed barely able to keep himself awake.
“Hey, Gary,” the man slurred out as he looked behind him and Brandon turned his head away, “you see this costume this kid has? I know we ain’t having no costume party, but it’s cool as hell. I think I saw him come out of the sky, too, but I might just be trippin’. Wait, Gary, what are y’all doin’ and why are ya whisperin’? What do y’all mean ‘don’t you know who that is’?”
“I am not in the mood for this right now,” the boy thought, trying to focus his hearing to find Becky, “Now, so long as there aren’t any distractions, I’ll just ignore these pests and-”
(Cue Distress Call - Timothy Williams)
A shotgun blast emanated throughout the area as Brandon felt a bullet hit the back of his head, raising his hand to touch its area of impact, though it did no damage to him. His thoughts drowning out the sounds of the drunkard yelling, “Hey, what the hell, man?!?”, at whoever took the shot, Brandon’s memory was jogged, remembering how his father had attempted to kill him in the exact manner so long ago.
“Yychagaro Larum Ghol,” he heard echoing in his mind, his eyes starting to glow brighter and his body tensing up with primal rage as flashbacks of his parents’ attempts to put him down dominated his thoughts. It reminded him of the ignorance and deceit he knew permeated humanity, only two of the faults of this unworthy race. Blocking out the sound of any speech, the conqueror clenched his fists as his body began trembling.
“Seriously,” the man continued looking at the bushes where his friend was hiding, “Y’all lucky that didn’t kill the lil’ man, it’s just a costume-” The man stopped when he realized that Gary’s bullet did no damage, “Wait, huh?”
In the blink of an eye, Brandon appeared in front of the bushes, grabbing the gunman by his mouth with one hand and crushing his jaw, blood gushing over his bare knuckles amid Gary’s gurgling. Still holding him by the shirt with his other hand, the killer charged his heat vision and fired directly into Gary’s eyes, keeping its temperature low to prolong the now screaming gunman’s agony, as the drunkard watched and cried out in horror at the sight.
From the front of the house, after both men’s screams were replaced with the sound of splattering gore, one could make out the cacophony that ensued next as Brightburn broke in through the back door. Mortified screams of the helpless men and women hiding in the house and the thuds of bodies being thrown against walls mixed with the sounds of burning and melting flesh and bone in the midst of his hate-fuelled rampage, all before silence overcame the home, the carnage ending almost as quickly as it started.
Standing alone caked in blood in a living room with no lights on throughout the house, Brandon looked around at the mess of body parts surrounding him, red liquid scattered across the room as the droplets leaked from the pasty substance drenching the walls.
“They’d have tried to kill me too. No less than what human scum deserve,” he thought, his bloodlust satisfied. Calming down somewhat and knowing there were no survivors or witnesses here, he looked at his hands, resolving to clean himself up in the pool water after he was finished locking onto his target’s location.
Upon picking up her voice conversing with others with his super hearing, his eyes began to flare up again. She was busying herself with them in the middle of the trial. Like he’d sit idly by and let his plans be interrupted by mere humans, those lowly, petulant animals. Looking through the front window as he carefully painted his sigil on it in blood, he saw something in the driveway that would fit nicely for the next surprise for his Lexiconian quarry.
(Music stops)
“Huh,” the man in the cowboy hat said, “Spotless in two seconds flat. Fixed the doors right up, too. You work quick, little lady.”
“Thanks,” the girl said, using a pen to sign an autograph in the woman’s opened travel scrapbook, “The glass would have made this trickier if it broke, but the door was intact, so it wasn’t much of an issue. You wouldn’t believe the sheer amount of collateral I’ve had to clean up on duty in the city. Usually robot parts, cheese and condiments.”
“Hot dog,” he said, astonished, “and you’re only like what, ten?”
“Eleven, actually.”
“Huh-well, just when I thought I’d seen everything in this life. I gotta tell ya, if that hero thing doesn’t work out when ya grow up, you’d probably make a lotta money doin’ this kinda cleanup and repairs. There wouldn’t be much competition either.”
“Heh,” she said, handing the pen back to the woman, “I appreciate the offer. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m kinda in the middle of something right now, so I’m gonna have to catch you later.”
“Thanks, WordGirl,” the lady said, barely containing her excitement, “I’m just glad to finally meet you in person.”
“No problem, now I gotta get going before-”
While it was out of the hearing distance of the two humans, Becky heard the distinct sound of something - or rather, someone- launching into the air and flying towards the gas station as her expression turned from contentment to mild boredom.
“Before precisely that happens,” she said, pointing her thumb behind her toward the outside before quickly changing to a more cheery tone, “See ya!”, the statement followed by her yellow streak flying out of the open entrance.
Now in front of the counter instead of behind it, the woman peered over it to take a look through the window on the other side to get a good view of where her city’s hero was going, hoping to see some of the action herself.
“I think we’re about to see amazing things,” she said smiling, as the man, now concerned, looked toward the same window.
“So dependin’ on how this ends, either I eat mah hat,” he said, “Or we all die…” With a shrug, he finished, “Ah, well, I got some popcorn in stock. Want some?”
(Cue At War With Kaileena - Stuart Chatwood)
“I know you’re coming,” WordGirl said with crossed arms, her cape blowing in the wind as she stood on the ground a decent distance away from the front of the gas station itself, “And by the way, when you come after me, could you please say or do something other than punch me?” As she looked to her side, a shadow suddenly covered her person, prompting her to look up and say, “What the-?”
Lifting a green 1930s four-door wagon above his head, Brightburn slammed the car downward from the air, sending his opponent through the ground as the crunch of the front, headlights and all, being smashed preceded the car’s alarm going off as the conqueror flew backward to prepare for her counter.
In a flash, the wrecked vehicle emerged from the resulting ditch as WordGirl lifted it with both hands before throwing it back at Brandon. Causing the car to explode in mid-air with one blast of his heat vision, Brandon flew through the smoke resulting from the explosion to tackle Becky and slam her through a patch of dirt closer to the gas station, creating a small crater in the process. Pinning her down with one hand on her collar, Brandon punched downward repeatedly, narrowly missing each one and causing further damage to the ground as Becky tried to speak.
“You know,” she said as one punch to the left missed. “I think this-”, one punch to the right missed, “would be less-”, another left hook missed, “tedious if-”, swing and a miss, “you actually-”, here we go again, “said something!” At this, Brandon’s next punch connected square in her face before he flew several miles upward, outstretching his free hand into a fist while the other remained gripping her collar.
Looking away from her for a moment to let out a quick blast of his heat vision downward, Brightburn let go of the hero’s collar to grab her cape and spin her around in a vertical circle several times before throwing her down in the trajectory of the projectiles, mere inches away from the short beams. As the two heat rays pierced a large propane tank near the gas station, WordGirl was caught back-first in the ensuing combustion, which while far enough away as to not damage the station and not powerful enough to visibly damage her, launched her screaming into the air directly into a kick in the face that sent her skidding across the ground before she stopped in the middle of the dirt road that separated the station and the woods not far away on the other side.
Pushing herself up to levitate a few inches above the road, the Lexiconian flew forward along it to intercept what she could tell was an incoming attack from her masked foe. Both attempted to ram their shoulder into each other, the impact causing both of them to skid across the ground backward, with each holding one hand to the ground to keep them steady as the dirt beneath them was ground beneath their shoes, leaving them both standing straight across from each other at opposite ends paralleling the ends of the gas station.
Rearing his head back slightly, the conqueror’s eyes brightened as he charged his deadly beams, while his adversary took a long, deep inhale with her eyes closed as the crackling of ice could be heard as the air cooled around her mouth.
As a concentrated ray of crimson plasma erupted from Brightburn’s eyes, WordGirl exhaled and blew out a freezing wind, the makeshift arctic storm concentrated in an ice blue beam set on a collision course with its red counterpart. The two beams clashed as both combatants leaned forward, straining as they tried to put more power into their output as the balance only slightly shifted toward one side, if at all, with the epicenter mostly stationary as heat and cold struggled for dominance.
“Wait,” Brandon thought as the center of their collision grew in size and volatility, “Is she…? How?”
As the beam struggle stopped following an explosion at the epicenter that blew both fighters back, the heated air settling around Brandon’s position while snowflakes and tiny ice crystals scattered around Becky, the former spoke up for the first time since the battle began.
(Music stops)
“Did you just… blow an ice storm at me?” he asked, confused with his voice partially muffled by his mask.
“Wha- I- Really?” she replied in confoundment, “This coming from you? You can throw things with your mind and shoot lasers out of your eyes!”
Raising a finger to try to argue, Brandon stopped himself for a second before begrudgingly making an acknowledgement, “Touché.”
(Cue Suzy - Caravan Palace)
Taking a step back and then tackling each other before flying into the woods to continue fighting, the two were locked in a mid-air grapple as they neared the forest’s center. Breaking their lock to dodge a quick heat blast from Brandon’s eyes, Becky flew from tree to tree to both avoid his ranged attacks and to frustrate him into either saying more or giving up outright, a yellow streak speeding around the woods dodging every rapid beam he could shoot.
“Nope,” arms crossed in front of a tree and smiling, she sped away as the tree was hit instead, splattering bark everywhere. “Try again,” laying back with her arms behind her head on another tree, blasting off to avoid another. “Missed me!”, she said in a singsong voice while hanging on a branch as if it were a monkey bar before flying away from yet another shot. “Whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop!”
The more she dodged, the more rapid the shots became as a result of Brandon’s aggravation. Growling with pent up frustration, the boy flew upward several feet above the trees before charging his heat vision and unleashing a wave of plasma that scorched a good portion of the woods and started a forest fire similar to ones from his earliest attacks in the initial stage of his war against mankind.
Floating back down and standing on the dirt as the flames expanded on the timber in front of him, he panted, catching his breath knowing that there weren’t many trees in front of him that the girl could use against him or to hide behind, given that they were now ablaze.
Feeling a gloved hand tap his shoulder twice from behind, he turned around to see a relaxed and mischievously smiling WordGirl, levitating with one leg casually crossed over the other and one hand rested under her chin.
“Hi,” she said, placing her palm below her mouth before letting a colossal ice storm escape her lips as if blowing a kiss, throwing Brandon across the woods and out of sight as ice and snow covered the entirety of the once aflame section of the forest.
(Cue Wonderful Christmastime - R3 Music Box)
As snow coated the ground and stray snowflakes fell from the sky, the girl floated within the confines of the winter wonderland of her own making, catching one snowflake on her tongue as she progressed. While appreciating the Christmassy atmosphere, something that affirmed the fulfillment of her storm’s intent caught her eye, causing her to clap her hands and jump in place for a moment, giggling to herself like a schoolgirl.
A snowman, complete with a top hat, a carrot nose, buttons for eyes and a mouth, and twigs for arms, stood in front of a snow-covered tree as Becky flew toward it, putting her arm around it and facing the same direction it was in, grinning toward the viewer while making a peace sign with her free hand.
“Don’t know if you’re my usual narrator,” she said, looking upward, “but can you get this picture? Pleeeease?”
“My pleasure,” she heard back from nowhere in particular.
“Awesome, thanks!” the girl replied before looking back at the camera and retaining her pose.
“Snow day!” she said just before a camera flash appeared on screen.
(Cue Urges - Timothy Williams)
Becky started to feel a heat radiating from inside the snowman as she looked toward it to see it melt from the inside, its parts falling off as the snow turned to water. Her expression showed growing anxiety as she saw a familiar bright red glow slowly turning toward her after the snow fully melted, putting her face to face with an incredibly agitated Brightburn.
Laughing nervously, WordGirl put her hand that was formerly around the snowman behind her own head before sheepishly asking, “Eh-heh…, no hard feelings?”
Without moving any other part of his body, Brandon pulled his arm back and punched his counterpart in the chest, combining both physical and telekinetic force to launch her backward into a part of the forest not yet affected by either alien. Her momentum halting as she regained her mid-air footing in the untouched part of the woods, WordGirl looked around for any sign of her counterpart.
“Yeah,” she said, trying to catch her breath, “You see that, BB? I can take anything you dish out-”
The Lexiconian’s sentence was cut off as she suddenly felt herself be swung around by an invisible force, repeatedly and rapidly hitting every tree in the vicinity as if the forest were a pinball machine (with the sound effects to match). Walking out of one of the more well-covered corners of the immediate area, Brandon stopped with his arms crossed, guiding his telekinetic barrage with his eyes.
“I think I’ve seen about enough,” he thought, slowly walking forward and ending the attack by telekinetically slamming her on the ground before throwing her face-first into a nearby tree as she slid downward, “Time to end this.”
“Ugh…” Becky let out, sluggishly pushing herself up and turning around to lay with her back against the tree out of breath looking toward the sky, “I am seriously gonna need to walk that off or that’s gonna bug me for hours.”
Finishing her sentence, her focus was instantly shifted as he felt a hand grasp each of her arms and pin her against the tree’s wooden exterior. As her shoulders were held down, she looked straight ahead into the -for the moment- normal looking blue eyes of Brightburn, before his irises began to glow red, staring into her pupils as his grip tightened.
Becky’s eyes widened as she seemed to take the brunt of Brandon’s fear manipulation point blank, her breath quickening and her face bearing a look of dread as the boy slightly smiled, satisfied at his chipping away of her resistance.
“Uh…” she uttered, trembling, “Um… I-… I…”
(Music stops)
“I can’t believe you think that still works on me,” she said, her body relaxing and her face bearing a smirk of amusement.
“What?!?” the boy replied, stunned as he let go and took a step back while the glow in his eyes disappeared to leave his still-scarlet irises exposed.
(Cue Viper Squad - James Seymour Brett (0:00 - 0:55))
“Yeah, mind control, psychic manipulation, I made some adjustments for that kinda stuff a while ago. Not my first time fighting someone with that,” Becky explained casually with a tone of confidence, “To be honest, for a guy who wanted to meet me so badly, you seem to be keen on underestimating me, aren’t you…, Brightburn?”
“Wha- I-”
“Oh, come on. I saw the road signs flying in, that trademark of yours is a dead giveaway. But let’s be frank, you’re smart enough to already know I could figure that out. Just like I’m smart enough to know that you knew that.”
“Of course,” he thought, “She was faking back at the hotel. Whatever she’s talking about must have partially protected her from the full effect of my power. How did I miss that? What else is she hiding? She didn’t even use that frost breath of hers until a minute ago, what else does she have that I haven’t been able to observe yet?”
“You may have plenty of tricks up your sleeve, I’ll admit, but fighting supervillains is what I do just about every single day back home. And guess what, new guy? In the end, no matter what it takes or what the bad guy of the week throws at me, it always ends the same way.”
Grabbing Brandon’s vest, the hero flew toward the sky, a yellow streak flashing before the killer’s eyes as she let go and seemingly vanished. Before he could react, the boy was caught in a blitz as he felt several subsequent hits nearly instantly as the streak sped toward and away from him from what seemed to be all sides, with the onslaught culminating in a kick to his temple as the impact of her bootheel disoriented him and sent him careening toward the ground, kicking up a portion of dirt and cratering the forest floor.
Directly above him, he saw several bright lines of light formed from his adversary’s attacks, carefully shaped to form the shield and star of Lexicon shining in the night sky as WordGirl appeared in front of the center of the five-pointed emblem, the golden light illuminating her as she floated triumphantly and her cape flowed on her back as if on a flagpole.
“With them in jail and me saving the day,” she said, looking down at Brandon before looking to her right, stretching out her fist and flying away in that direction, “Word Up!”
As the symbol continued glittering, the conqueror dragged himself out of the crater and stood back up to try to concentrate his hearing, looking around and wondering what the girl was planning now.
“Fore!” he heard her shout in the distance, just before he turned around.
Swinging a road sign reading “Welcome to Brightburn, KS” as if it were a golf club, Becky smacked her opponent in the face with it with far more force than she had applied all day, launching him screaming into the sky as he disappeared into the clouds.
Levitating in place, Becky placed one hand above her eyes to look into the distance before dashing out of view and back, though without the sign in hand, having put it back in a split second.
(Music stops)
“I don’t even play golf, I just always wanted to say that,” she said contentedly. As soon as she said this, she remembered the backup contingency she talked about with her sidekick, “Oh, before I forget, I should probably contact the ship in case this goes south.” Pressing and holding a button on her communications belt, she looked down and spoke, “Execute Plan 412. Set it to follow the signal to my tracked location, stat.” Letting go of the button as the message went through, she had only one thing left to account for.
“Now, where did I send that guy to?” she asked no one in particular.
As the next scene was sliding from the right side of the screen as part of the interscene transition, WordGirl grabbed the border of the next scene with both hands and took a peek at the destination.
“Yes!” she said, letting one hand off the border to clench into a fist before placing it back on, “A timezone with daylight, an isolated island, and there’s no people that could get hurt in the crossfire? Jackpot!” Looking upward, she finishes, “Thanks, guys!”, before letting go of the border and letting the transition finish.
…Yeah, anyway…
Coming into full view was a somewhat sizable tropical island sporting several plateaus in the center and some scattered along the coastline, as well as an all-encompassing rainforest that left only the sandy coast untouched. A distant screaming could be heard coming from the sky, followed up by a boy in a mask and cape falling out of the stratosphere and crashing into the highest plateau, creating an indentation in the peak’s side as he stopped near the interior center of the landform.
“Grand,” Brandon thought, laying down in the makeshift cave and trying to take deep, slow breaths as dislocated soil and rock scattered around him, “At least I know she’s smart and creative in her approaches, as I hoped. Similar or equal intelligence or not, though, I have a feeling she’s still holding back somewhat. I’ll have to get a bit more serious about this fight to push her further. I need to know if she has my potential.”
A few miles away from the dent in the plateau, a small cloud drifted toward the island, with WordGirl lying on it as if it were a hammock as she took a sip out of an open coconut with a pink straw in it before looking toward the opening.
“Well,” she said leisurely, “It’s been fun, Brightburn. I gotta admit, you gave me one heck of a workout today. Might be the strongest, fastest, and smartest villain I’ve ever had. But, I’m a bit heroed out and I think this has dragged on long enough, so let’s get this over with.” Her voice and expression became stern, “You did kidnap my sidekick,” before returning to her casual tone, “so I’m gonna have to take you downtown. You probably know the drill: Villain and I fight, I win, I take ‘em to jail, they break out, rinse and repeat. Pretty great showings for your first time, huh?”
From inside the cavern, a low sigh of annoyance could be heard faintly echoing. “Still doing this hero LARP, huh?” the boy thought, “Fine then. I’ll put up with this nonsense a little longer if it means my efforts weren’t in vain.”
“Are you listening in there?” she said, taking another sip, “I’m gonna need an ETA on when you’re coming out so we can wrap this up. Heck, you haven’t even explained your evil plan to me yet. Never thought I’d want to hear a monologue, but here we are…”
She paused before sighing in annoyance and continuing, “Please say something. You gonna surrender or what?”
A few seconds passed before she heard a deep breath being taken inside the tunnel, followed by the reverberations of a softened and seemingly calm voice that sounded vaguely familiar to her.
“No.”
“Of course he said that, how did I know he was gonna say that?” she sarcastically muttered, before returning her voice to normal, “Well, why not?”
“Counteroffer,” he said, now with a hint of snark.
“Cou- wha-” the girl replied, befuddled, “What counteroffer? I’m trying to throw you a bone here, you know.”
“And how’s that working out for you since we started?”
“Fine, I’ve had a long day today, so I’ll bite. Lay it on me.”
(Cue Fear - Tom Ratesic (1:10 - 1:25))
As she overheard the sound of something - or rather someone - breaking through rock and carving through further layers of it by tunneling through via sheer strength, the ground beneath the plateau suddenly began shaking as it was slowly dislodged from the ground. Looking back toward the source of the sound as she finished her drink, she saw the plateau gradually move upward.
“Oh, well, that’s just peachy,” she said, “you know, sliding that off isn’t gonna do mu-”
Her eyes widened as she realized, in part thanks to the straining, angry grunts from her counterpart, that the landmass wasn’t being merely dislodged, but lifted. The plateau now casting a large shadow over her, its ascent only ceased when Becky could see, clear as day, Brightburn lifting the entire plateau with one hand on the soil-covered bottom.
(Music stops)
“Okay,” she said, her expression turning to one of base concern, “For the record, you have the most extreme anger issues I have ever seen.”
A loud boom could be heard as Brandon threw the plateau toward his target, the landmass breaking apart as it impacted. As the pieces scattered, revealing a cloud of dust with both the hero and her cloud chair nowhere to be seen, the boy floated in the air looking down toward the debris with his arms at his side.
“I know you survived that,” he thought, huffing, “That was just a statement.”
“Where ya aimin’, grumpy?” the girl asked, now floating in a standing position directly behind him as if she had appeared at random.
Turning around with a punch toward her face, Brandon’s fist was caught in Becky’s palm, her face still bearing a sense of casualty as a deafening shockwave emitted from the collision.
“I know you’re holding back, why?” he asked.
“Oh?”, she responded, “I assumed you wanted a challenge.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, well, a challenge is a stimulating task or proble-”
“I know what it literally means,” he blurted out, irritated, “what’s your point?”
“Hmm…” she mumbled, a mischievous look in her eye as she explained, “You see, a challenge implies that you wanted an even contest…”
“...And?” he asked, somewhat more agitated at the implied audacity for her to think what he thinks she’s about to say.
“Well, if I didn’t hold back as much, instead of what we have been doing, this whole shebang would’ve ended up somewhat more like… this.”
(Cue WordGirl Theme Instrumental- WordGirl OST)
Still holding his fist, WordGirl flew toward the island, pulling Brandon with her in a flash of golden light before throwing him onto the beach below. Scattering the sand upon impact and cracking the ground beneath him, the boy’s body bounced into the air from the force of the collision before a yellow streak moving at speeds incomprehensible to the human eye slammed him in mid-air to send him hurtling into a nearby peak.
In an instant, Brandon felt himself be dragged with the front of his body to the side of the plateau across said edge, essentially being used as a makeshift tool to carve a familiar symbol onto the dirt surface before finally being let go after its completion. Floating in a daze with his back to the Lexiconian emblem engraved into the landmass, his vision swiftly recovered from its temporary blurred state to see Becky appear in front of him with her closed hand, middle finger pressed on her thumb, directly in front of his nose. Releasing her finger and flicking his nose, the applied force was enough to send Brandon flying backward into the symbol, crumbling the rock around him as the plateau collapsed on top of him.
Nanoseconds before the debris was done hitting the ground he now lay on, let alone before he could regain his footing, the conqueror was pulled up by the shirt before the Lexiconian punched him in the chest hard enough to send him upward toward the cloud cover. Facing downward as his ascent continued, his momentum was interrupted in the blink of an eye before he could even reach the clouds, as Becky flew down from the sky to elbow him hard in the back, sending him plummeting toward the ground, crashing and creating a wide hole in the forest floor as dirt filled the newly formed ditch that measured at least five feet deep.
Quickly flying out of the ditch and trying to catch his breath to recover from shock due to the sudden and rapid attacks, he was proven sorely mistaken if he assumed he would get a breather, as he was punched and kicked into separate trees at supersonic speeds, though without knocking the trees down, in a similar fashion to his telekinetic barrage from earlier.
The attacks only slowing as they approached the coast and less trees could be used to bounce him off of, Becky decided to put a garnish on her example by initially floating idly for a second before her adversary tried to counterattack with another punch. Intercepting the punch effortlessly with her ice breath, a thick coat of frost froze Brandon in place shortly before the Lexiconian winded up her right arm to take a last punch, shattering the ice around him as he flew backward colliding with the ground several times before finally falling into the sea a good distance away from the shoreline.
Humming along to the last few lyrics of her own theme song before the ending saxophone solo, WordGirl closed her eyes and tilted her head upward to take her usual “hero” pose for the camera with her cape flapping in the wind behind her.
(Music ends)
“That’s how it’s done,” she said, her eyes open and facing the screen.
(Cue Attack in Control Room (feat. Machine Head) - Graeme Revell)
Becky’s eyes slightly widened as she looked down and the ground beneath her began to shake. Slowly walking toward the shore and listening for any signs of Brightburn in the water as the island seemed to be affected by his telekinetic will, the motion stopped for only a brief moment of silence. Before she could react, the killer flew out of the water and grabbed her with a single hand grasping around her mouth before descending beneath the surface, dragging her with him as he accelerated downward into the sea.
As they floated several feet underwater, Brandon took the first shot with his free hand, punching her in the torso before the Lexiconian responded with a fist to his face, breaking his grip on her jaw as he flew backward toward the bedrock of the island. As both could breathe underwater without issue, their current location was little more than a change of scenery as their strikes occasionally produced sonic booms that caused the water around them to violently reverberate and, at times, almost erupt and separate from the rest of the nearby liquid completely from the sheer force of the shockwaves.
From afar, somewhat cloaked in the darkness of the depths as a human eye may only have been able to make out his glowing irises, Brandon unleashed a concentrated blast of heat vision so hot that one could see the air bubbles resulting from the boiling and vaporization of any water they touched, while his opponent made the effort to dodge any of his ranged attacks, as both were able to fly through the water unimpeded as if flying through air.
“Kinda hoping that backup gets here sooner rather than later,” Becky thought.
A few miles away from the island, the view switches to the POV of a red mainframe scanning the area and assessing nearby lifeforms as yellow text appears on its screen with light beeps accompanying each loaded and processed assessment, as the distance between its user and the combatants slowly closes.
“Tracked location approaching. Visuals online.
Target Life-form #1: Identified
Genetic Match: Lexiconian
Target Confirmed for Elimination: WordGirl
Possible Target Life-form #2: Identified
Genetic Match: Data Not Found
Possible Target for Elimination: Unknown, Presumed Likely Hostile
Placeholder Name for Target #2 Generating…”
Meanwhile, having been sent flying backward out of the water from the impact of one of her opponent’s strikes, Becky spent mere moments in the air before Brandon came from above to kick her toward the shore. Her momentum finally stopping as she landed in a small patch of grass near a tree a long distance from the shoreline and cracked the ground surrounding it, Becky looked up just in time to see Brightburn standing over her, having flown to the spot in an instant, before he punched her chest to drive her further into the ground and forming a small crater around her person.
Grabbing her by the star on her suit, Brandon lifted her up as he reeled his fist back to prepare for another hit, but stopped as a slight beeping could be heard from her communication belt. As he looked toward the source of the sound with confusion, Becky looked down as well for confirmation, with a relieved expression as she knew its meaning.
(Cue Golden Hour - Electric Swing Circus)
“Oh, good,” she said, “Was wondering when that would go off.”
“What?” he asked, looking back at Becky as his irises’ glow lessened, slowly returning to their human-like blue state.
“Oh, my mistake,” she said with a tone of faux worry, “I didn’t tell you about that, did I?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Eh, let’s just say at this point in my crime fighting career, I’ve picked up some… unique souvenirs,” she said, smiling with a prankish look on her face.
Just before he could say something else, Brandon’s enhanced senses caught a whiff of something unusual off in the distance at the shore that momentarily distracted him.
“What smells like… metal and Cheez Whiz?-” he asked, letting go of Becky’s suit as he turned around to look toward the shoreline, all while stopping himself in the middle of his last word for a new baffled statement entirely, “Oh, you have got to be kidding.”
To his complete bewilderment, Brandon witnessed a large Godzilla-esque robot in the image of a mouse be lowered onto the shoreline by what appeared to be a small mechanical suit resembling a similar mouse, floating as if it were held in the air from the inside by what he could only assume was its pilot. Attached to both the suit and the metallic kaiju appeared to be several rayguns of different colorations assorted across their exteriors. Additionally, a hodgepodge of smaller bipedal robots, such as a gold clock-shaped one, appeared to have been delivered by the suit prior to the large mech’s appearance to complete the formation that now stood at the beachhead, all with attached rayguns of their own.
From inside the Mecha-Mouse suit, new readings appeared on the red mainframe as its pilot completed its preparations.
"Targeting Synchronization Complete
Target #2 Placeholder Generated: Mask-Boy
Target for Elimination: Confirmed”
Blinking twice in astonishment as his head leaned slightly forwards with any further expression being hidden behind his mask, Brandon looked to his side where his adversary now stood.
“Heh,” she chuckled, looking toward the makeshift robot army, “Yeah, some of these were really annoying to have to deal with when I had to fight ‘em.”
Turning to face her counterpart, Becky patted him on the back twice before saying, “Welp, good luck!” and quickly flying away in a streak of gold light before getting a response as he tried to turn to face her before she left.
“Wait, what? We were still-” he was in the middle of saying before he looked straight forward and snarled in aggravation. Nearly instantly regaining his focus, he saw every single ray start to charge up as small beams of energy were poised to fire from them, all aimed at him.
“Ah, nuts,” he muttered in resignation.
All at once, the rays rapidly fired multi-colored beams in Brightburn’s direction, with the conqueror flying at Mach speeds to dodge as many as he could before attempting to fly to higher elevations to pursue WordGirl. Every time he had caught up to her in their cat and mouse game from spot to spot across the island, not only was the Lexiconian able to evade him to move to another location, but at every edge of the island, there seemed to be another contingent of machines ready to shoot at them both.
At one point, the general atmosphere of the fight started to more closely resemble a rave as whenever a red streak wasn’t in the middle of chasing its yellow equivalent, the two kids had to spend more time dodging the incoming fire from the relentless robots than actually hitting each other, especially as Becky intended for this to be the ideal distraction for him.
As he went for a desperate lunge to grab Becky and drag her to the innermost part of the forest away from the interlopers to continue their bout, he felt the oversized metal arms of the airborne Mecha-Mouse wrap around his arms and torso before it lobbed him back toward the initial beachhead and followed him.
Crashing into the sand before quickly getting back up to an upright floating position, Brandon seamlessly avoided any laser that came his way, as he observed the various effects of the respective rays, such as a ray that shrank a tree it hit instead of him, another ray that enlarged a pebble upon contact, and a ray that turned a different tree into an oddly specific type of cheese depending on which yellow beam hit it.
“Cheese rays?” he thought, dodging more beams, a good portion of which seemed yellow in coloration, as he occasionally used quick bursts of his heat vision to destroy a few of the rays, resulting in their exploding, usually with melted cheese pouring out of the remains. “Why do, like, 90% of these guns exclusively turn stuff into cheese? And a specific kind? What kind of moron did she fight that makes this junk?”
Laying down with her back to the side of a grassy hill close to the center of the island, Becky took a deep breath as she could hear the commotion between the robots and her foe.
“Good thing I got so many of Two-Brains’ rays,” she thought, “those and a couple of Tobey’s robots should hold him off for a bit.” Taking her impromptu break, she thought of potential ways to wear the boy down so she could end this in case this backup didn’t do the job.
“Alright, so I’m probably gonna be better off in terms of stamina when they’re done,” she mumbled to herself, “Wait, in the plan, didn’t Huggy include that thing Chuck bought that one time? What was it again?”
Her thought was interrupted as she heard a sonic boom emanate from the direction of the battle, accompanied by the sound of a sneeze.
The boy’s dodging interrupted by the sudden noise, Brandon clasped his ears in mid-air as he yelled out in a mix of pain and irritation.
“Oh, yeah, right!” WordGirl said to herself, “It was the Super Duper Sonic Boom Sneezer. Heh, heh…” The girl’s expression turned somewhat sour as she remembered the circumstances surrounding the day that device was used the first time and shuddered, “Definitely glad I don’t have a cold today.”
Recovering from the shockwave, Brandon looked back toward the robots just in time to see a beam hit his face directly, the transport ray’s ammo teleporting him away from the battlefield.
(Cue Suitor Attacks - Mikko Tarmia)
Materializing in a wooden warehouse in the middle of what he could tell was Fair City, the killer clenched his fists as he growled loudly in impatience and anger before bursting through a window to fly back to the island.
“I think he knocked the amnesia ray out,” Becky mumbled in her hiding spot, trying to keep track of what rays Brandon likely already destroyed before he vanished. “Plenty of the cheese rays are out, the gravity one might be out…” Her eyes widened as she heard a familiar presence making his way toward the beachhead, though judging by what she could tell was a seismic vibration encompassing the immediate area for miles, not by his lonesome.
Accompanied by Brandon’s scream of rage in the distance, a tsunami approached the vicinity as he concentrated more and more water into the wave to attempt to engulf the entire island, making a beeline towards it from behind the wave as he did so. Since the girl was now under a shadow covering the entire island as the water hovered and increased in volume above it, she thought of moving from her spot before seeing an opening in the center of the suspended mass of liquid widen until it resembled a thick ring that only covered the shoreline where the robots had amassed.
Having stopped just above the shoreline he had been whisked away from and concentrated the area of effect of the wave to his liking, Brandon’s fists unclenched as he let go of his mental grip on the water, allowing the rushing gallons to pour onto the shorelines, resulting in a massive splash at every angle of the island that short-circuited any of the smaller robots within view.
Finished with his initial assault, but with his temper not even remotely tamed, Brandon flew downward to ravage any mechanical remains or surviving machines he could get his hands on, whether it be via his heat vision either melting them down or blowing them to bits in a single shot, or by ripping them apart either via his telekinesis or his bare hands.
“Yeesh,” Becky muttered, having heard another explosion, “that must’ve been the shrink ray and…” She finished her thought at hearing the peculiar sound of a ray being dented, twisted like a pretzel, and finally exploding. “That one was definitely the transport ray. Hope the big guns weren’t hit too hard in that wave of his.”
In the midst of the chaos, the yellow clock-shaped robot shambled around the edge of the forest nearest to the shoreline, somewhat inhibited in its movement as while it had not been completely soaked, one could see water leaking from the crevice separating its inner parts from its exterior clock that, when opened, let to said innards.
“Stop time, stop time,” it repeated monotonously, before stopping in front of the beachhead to see scrap metal and spare parts everywhere. It had no time to move before the masked killer appeared in front of it to grab one of its clock hands to lift it in the air, reeling his fist back as his eyes glowed in fury.
“Oh, no,” it said, in the same robotic voice, just before Brandon’s fist jammed into the clock and out through its back. Retracting his arm, he placed both hands on the sides of the robot before punting it several meters into the sky. After releasing a blast of heat vision to reduce it to smithereens in an airborne ball of fire, the boy vanished in a flash as he sped toward his next target.
“And… there goes Chronos,” WordGirl noted with a look of moderate disappointment at the fact that this might not buy as much time as she’d prefer. “So I think that only leaves Mousezilla and,” she paused for a moment with a smile creeping on her face, “while a tad risky…, the ace in the hole.”
Mousezilla tried its best to keep up its pace of fire despite its incredibly apparent mobility issues compared to its target, but no matter how many of its intact rays turned an object in the line of fire into green goop, cheese, what have you, it couldn’t fend off the supersonic rapidity of its adversary’s blitzing attacks that wore down its armor. At one point, during one of its first volleys of blasts, Brandon had intercepted several bolts at once, holding them in place with his mind before directing them to reverse course and damage the metallic tank instead with a motion of his hand.
In Brandon’s mind, he was seemingly at his wit’s end. “Robots,” he thought, “Out of all of her cartoonish shenanigans I had to put up with, throwing these buckets of bolts at me has to be the most insulting.” The conqueror somewhat held back his strength against these bots, as while he could have easily flown through all of them and scrambled them in an instant without issue or simply shut down their electronics with a thought, he didn’t want this to be quick.
This was supposed to be just him and Becky, he thought, these contraptions are an utter mockery and he would not let anything else dare interrupt him or waste his time. While he wasn’t sure if these things could feel pain, he was hellbent on making them suffer slowly if they did.
As the last ray on the crippled kaiju was blasted into dust by a beam of red plasma, the robot slowly succumbed to its damage and toppled over onto its side before Brandon smashed every remaining whole part of its structure to bits with his fists.
The rubble laying before him, Brandon breathed heavily in rage before narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of his last robotic enemy, the Mecha-Mouse suit approaching him from off in the distance. He wanted to make this hurt most of all.
Taking a punch in the face from the mech suit and being sent slightly backward from the surprisingly strong impact, Brightburn quickly recuperated himself as the two traded blows for a few seconds before the mech was shoved into the air by his shoulder tackle. Flying after the now airborne suit as they both approached the stratosphere, Brandon reeled back his left fist for a punch to launch the mech further away at an even greater speed. After a few seconds of flying, he followed this up with a right-handed punch to further indent the center of the suit and push it even further into the sky. Stopping as he floated near the clouds, Brandon focused his telekinesis to latch onto the careening suit and throw it back down for it to collide with the shore.
Slamming into the sand with an intense thud, the heavily damaged mech barely had time to move its hand before Brandon flew down at breakneck pace to kick said hand clean off its body before taking a lone stomp on its legs, crushing the metal beneath his shoes before telekinetically ripping off its remaining arm. Grabbing onto its sides and flying slightly above the ground as his shimmering eyes stared intently toward the center of the suit, the killer prepared his next move. He had told the girl to come alone as he couldn’t guarantee the safety of any interlopers, after all. In his intense and irrational emotional state, he supposed giving a long, gruesome torture to whatever soul Becky signed the death warrant for by having them pilot this abomination would get his apparently ignored message across well enough.
From inside the suit, all that could be seen in the current darkness of the mostly hollowed interior was a magma-colored light shining directly across from where an operator could see. As the sound of the metal sizzling and boiling reverberated inside the suit, the light slowly made its way straight downwards, burning a small piercing in the suit as the beam of heat left only smoke in its wake, as well as glowing orange marks that slowly charred as the trail continued.
The burning trail and the accompanying sound ceased for about two seconds before the super-heated edges of the new opening were pushed inward by an invisible force, curling until the charred marks were positioned toward the operator. Both of Brandon’s hands grabbed the unheated edges of the crevice formed by the distortion of the metal, slowly widening the gap as his eyes glowed with a small amount of smoke escaping from his irises. Staring into the inside of the suit, his eyes momentarily lost the intensity of their glow as he stopped in confusion.
(Music stops)
In the POV of the red mainframe, having the same readings as prior with it now being apparent that it is not connected to the suit, a targeting system locked onto Brandon’s person as a feminine robotic voice chimed in aloud.
“Systems ready. Revert from pilot functions to default,” it said.
“What…” he whispered in bewilderment, “the…”
(Cue Glorious Morning 2 - Waterflame)
The sound of a metal fist impacting a face in the blink of an eye reverberated throughout the vicinity as Brightburn was sent screaming and spinning out of control into the air before crashing face-first into a distant plateau, caving in a significant portion of it before falling to the ground with a moan of pain.
A green streak resembling WordGirl’s yellow one flew out of the Mecha-Mouse suit into the air, with the ceasing of its movement revealing a robotic figure somewhat resembling the Lexiconian, albeit with a darker shade of red to her costume, red lights that substituted for eyes, an unmoving mouth that slightly flashed with light whenever she spoke, and a face that was clearly made of gray metal.
“Nobody will destroy WordGirl except for me!” the duplicate said, looking down on the killer as he tried to slowly pick himself back up, “Prepare for your annihilation, Mask-Boy.”
Stumbling as he got back up, Brandon looked up toward the levitating robot.
“‘Mask-Boy’?!?” he asked with a tone of both bafflement and insulted vexation as his eyes’ glow brightened before he flew upwards to charge toward the machine.
Peeking out from behind a boulder on the side of the hill, Becky could make out the sight of a green streak clashing with a red one repeatedly, though from what she could hear, the latter was brunting at least slightly more of the damage for the moment judging by his grunts of slight pain or frustration with every particularly loud impact of metal on skin.
“Phew,” she said, sitting back down behind her hiding place, “I guess Tobey’s fixation on me was good for something after all. WordBot hasn’t lost her edge, even after all this time. What was I thinking about again?... Oh, right.”
The side of a hill burst open as Brightburn was thrown through it, with his robotic enemy in pursuit. Attempting to block as many blows as possible, the boy flew backwards while withstanding a flurry of rapid metallic punches as he contemplated the situation.
“So she has a robot clone,” he thought, “And just when I thought this couldn’t get any more absurd. This one seems to be just as strong as the original, and more aggressive to boot. I might have to just shut this thing down if for no other reason than to not have to fight it for who knows how long.”
Just before he was about to use his power to disable the machine, the ambitious boy thought of an even better idea, one that could allow him to evaluate his would-be prospect in terms of something he didn’t incorporate into his original plan, but would be essential to find out regardless.
“Wait,” he pondered, his eyes widening and a slight grin forming beneath his disguise, “If Rust-bucket over here said it was after her too, then that means…”
Continuing to withstand WordBot’s assault as the airborne combatants fought, Brandon focused his hearing to pinpoint where he would take off to next. Upon hearing the only heartbeat other than his own in the area and determining its location, he telekinetically pushed the robot away without need of additional motion before dashing away from the spot in the form of a red streak.
(Music pauses)
As the scene began to transition from the now empty location, a single gloved hand grasped the border to stop it from moving away completely. WordGirl tilted her head slightly, peering into the left-side screen.
“Where is he going?” she asked in concern, looking upward.
“Uh…” she heard back from the narrator, “I can’t say, runtime issues. Also, I thought we agreed on only one of these.”
Responding with a sigh, the girl replied, “Fine, at least I got a breather,” before letting the scene transition go, leaving only her standing behind her hiding spot in view.
“Also, you might want to look behind you,” the narrator said.
“Huh?”
Becky turned around to see Brightburn standing there with his eyes red, but not quite glowing, and his mask mere inches away from the tip of her nose, causing her to jump backward and let out a startled yelp as she placed her hand on her heart.
“Stop doing that!” she said with a tone of frustration as she had nearly hyperventilated, “How do you even keep doing it? Are you a superninja or something?” After quickly catching her breath in about a second, she continued, quickly pointing toward his shoulder without any response or movement from the boy, “Oh, by the way, I think you got a drop of cheese on your cape- Wait a sec…” She paused, putting her hand down as her eyes widened. “If you’re here, who’s fighting the-”
Before she could finish her sentence, her robot duplicate landed on a patch of grass on the hill the two aliens stood before, denting the dirt as the machine looked directly at her, its tone now noticeably louder as Becky audibly gulped.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” it said, bitterness permeating its words as both kids looked up at it, “Tobey isn’t here to help you this time. Both of you prepare for your doom!”
While Brandon’s eyes showed no emotion as he looked back toward Becky and crossed his arms, the latter’s expression turned from one of anxiety when looking upon the robot to one of incredulity as her eyes narrowed and her mouth slightly opened.
“Clever boy…” she said in a low tone with a glare.
(Music resumes)
In a blur, the robot clotheslined both aliens’ necks as the sound of slamming metal reverberated through the area, flying at incomprehensible speeds before crashing them through a nearby plateau before the combatants were thrown out the other side of the landmass.
As the Lexiconian careened through the air in the direction most rightward relative to the hole they emerged from, Brandon, flying in the opposite direction, barely managed to stabilize himself mid-air to avoid crashing into the ground, looking up just in time to see WordBot emerge seemingly out of nowhere and swing both its clenched hands downwards as they struck the top of his head. As Brandon was dazed from the initial strike, it was followed by a blindingly fast series of blows to his face and torso, the flurry ended by a knee strike to his nose and a spinning kick to the face to send him reeling into the side of the nearest plateau. Sliding down the now cracked dirt, the discombobulated boy’s face lifted up from the damaged soil momentarily as miniature versions of his sigil circled around his head similar to the stars around Becky’s earlier in their fight, before he fell off the plateau with a crash on the ground.
Floating as it watched the conqueror fall, WordBot turned its head just in time for it to catch the open hand of its organic counterpart by the wrist as the girl tried to grab onto its back from behind to take out its batteries like she had done to defeat it in the past.
“It won’t be that easy this time, you organic peon,” its robotic voice echoed as its grip on WordGirl’s wrist tightened.
“Ah, rats,” she said, wincing.
From a distance, a green streak could be seen flying after a yellow one in the air with the latter being blown back during several clashes between the two. No matter how many times WordGirl tried to gain the initiative against her robotic clone, the latter was, as usual and in accordance with its design, an iota faster or an ounce stronger, but nonetheless enough to hold the advantage in a one on one contest.
A barrage of punches came WordGirl’s way as she was hit from multiple angles to disorient her before the machine finished its assault with a backhand to her face, sending her crashing through a tree several feet away, causing her to rebound off the dirt several times before finally landing in an area with a plains-like terrain, face-down. Picking herself up as she started to stumble from dizziness, Becky contemplated the current dilemma she found herself in.
“So much for that idea,” she thought, “We’re getting our backsides kicked, now what?”
Her eyes slightly widened as she looked up to see Brightburn free falling toward her just before he accidentally collided with her chest to send both kids tumbling backward like bowling pins. As their momentum finally stopped, Brandon’s back impacted the ground a second before Becky landed on top of him, causing their foreheads to collide and the two fighters to wince in pain. With both catching their breath, Becky lifted herself off the grass with her hands to make eye contact with her adversary.
“Hey, you got the cheese off,” she said, trying to lighten their mood given the current circumstances.
“Get off me,” he grumbled, unamused as he shoved her off of him and his eyes retained their red tint.
As both tiredly tried to stand up, the combatants found themselves on one knee with their hands on said knee and their heads down, breathing heavily. The two saw their robotic nuisance in the distance levitating at a high elevation rivaling the largest plateau on the island.
“Neither of you two stood a chance,” WordBot gloated from afar, “I have become invincible.”
Just before the two stood up, Becky took a glance at Brandon with a smile forming on her face as she came up with an idea, hoping he was thinking the same thing.
“Truce?” she asked, prompting Brandon to turn toward her as the red of his eyes vanished to leave only his natural blue upon hearing her offer. “You go on her left, I go on the right and we try to get an opening?”
Hiding a mildly pleased smile behind his mask, the boy nodded in agreement before the two looked back toward their target.
“Let’s do this,” Becky said, before the two both took off toward the air simultaneously.
(Cue Not Actual Size - Therewolf Media (1:26 - 1:50))
Across the dimming sky, what would appear to the human eye as a fantastic light show occurred above the island, with stripes of crimson, amber and emerald flying and colliding at several locations as the source of the latter tried its best to fend both of its adversaries off. While the machine was able to hold its own, it was not unencumbered by having to deal with constant rapid attacks from two beings with abilities comparable to its own which seemed to be more in sync with each other as the fight progressed.
Growing uneasy with the constant pressure, the robot attempted to grab its organic equivalent and fly to a greater distance away from Brightburn, only to be held in a grapple by the Lexiconian as both physically strained, trying to push the other away.
“Now!”, WordGirl managed to call out through gritted teeth, causing WordBot to temporarily lose its focus on their grapple and turn around to see the conqueror floating not too far below their position.
Brandon’s eyes glowed red as he held up his open hand at his side before quickly closing it into a fist, concentrating his telekinesis to crush the robot’s right forearm as shards of metal and electrical wire stuck out from what could only be described as a cave-in of the machinery. Partially handicapped from the damage to its arm, the robot lost its grip on Becky as the latter took the opportunity to punch it in the chest and send it flying downward toward Brandon’s location, where it was met with a punch to its cheek that combined physical and telekinetic force to send it careening away.
The machine would have no reprieve, as it was intercepted mid-air with an uppercut from WordGirl, followed by two punches to its sides before she froze it in place with a quick shot of her frost breath, though it would not remain stilled for long before being hit with a kick to the torso that broke it out of its icy prison. As the shattered ice fell to the ground, the robot tried to fly away in the other direction at ground level, only to see Brandon with his back seemingly turned to it.
Taking a gamble to try ambushing and throwing him in Becky’s direction again to buy time, its hopes were dashed as he quickly turned around with his eyes charged up to fire a flash of heat vision into its face to send it on its back in mid-air before the boy grabbed one of its ankles to pull it towards him before kicking it back upward.
Feeling an additional telekinetic wave push it upwards, WordBot spun out of control before it felt Becky’s shoulder bash into its mouth, a small electrical crackle coming out of the spot as it was launched a great distance away from its attacker’s location before being thrown further into the air once more as a large boulder levitated by Brandon’s mind was crashed into its back.
“Let’s bring it on home, BB!” Becky called out, before both fighters took off from their positions.
Barely able to keep flying without the occasional spark flying out of its damaged arm or mouth, the robot was able to partially balance itself in the air to try and react to what was coming toward it from above. What would appear to the naked eye to be a red beam traversing alongside a yellow one was in fact the two aliens, an amber glow in Becky’s eyes and a red tinge in Brandon’s, descending toward their foe with the former’s left arm alongside the latter’s right as both moved to give one final punch to the machine. A combination of their physical output and the boy’s telekinetic strength adding on to the total force overwhelmed WordBot’s exterior, making a large crack in its torso as it was sent reeling toward the water with a sonic boom before finally crashing into the sea.
(Music ends)
As the remaining resulting ripples in the water slowed, the two kids floated above the island, observing their handiwork with soft pants as the glow in their eyes subsided. On the side of what would have been the robot’s right, Brandon’s arms were crossed and a smile of mild satisfaction was hidden well behind his cloth, while WordGirl let out a brief raspberry in her robot double’s direction before placing a hand on her right hip and sighing in relief.
“Huh,” she said, turning her head toward him with a slight smile as she motioned her hand for a quick fist bump, “We made a good team there.”
“Mm-hmm,” he slightly muttered as he accepted her offer, moving his eyes and slightly turning his head to face her direction before reverting to his forward look, Becky looking back toward the ocean as well after his response. While he didn’t outwardly show it, the conqueror was over the moon with the success of his gambit.
“Excellent,” he thought, “I didn’t think I’d get to test our compatibility in taking on a challenge together before this trial by combat was over, but you bringing that tin can here provided me the perfect test dummy to see if we could work as a team rather than just have a loose alliance against mankind based on common survival. I’d say you couldn’t impress me more, but to be honest, Becky, you’ve exceeded my most optimistic hopes so far. While I’m not finished quite yet, if all goes well, I think we’ll do great things together.”
A few seconds of silence passed before WordGirl raised an eyebrow as she looked toward Brandon without turning her head.
“So,...” she said, “Is the truce up? Or…”
As soon as she got her answer in the form of Brandon’s head slowly turning toward her and his eyes donning a red light, her face turned to a disappointed frown as she stretched out her left hand in the blink of an eye to effortlessly and preemptively punch him in the face without moving any other part of her body, the blow sending him flying away out of view.
“Ugh… figures,” she mumbled before taking off after him.
(Cue Make Em Remember - Graeme Revell)
The sound of the combatants’ resumed melee echoed as, near the shoreline, something was crawling its way out of the water. WordBot, damaged, but not outright destroyed, lifted a hand out of the water to latch onto a nearby rock to pull itself out, being somewhat more waterproof than any of the other creations its inventor had engineered. Looking up toward the battlefield, it took off toward the aliens’ location, water droplets falling off at a rapid pace from the machine’s speed as a green streak left the ground.
“You know, is it just me,” the girl said while a good distance away from her opponent, “or is this really not going anywhe-”
Her sentence was interrupted by a tree being telekinetically thrown in her direction which she ducked in the nick of time before standing back up with a look of irritation as her arms tensed up and her fists clenched.
“Can you not punch or throw something at me for five minutes?!?” she yelled, on the verge of a tirade. “Seriously, we just got rid of the rogue robot, can’t we just talk for a sec or something?!? I mean, heck, at this point, I-” Hearing something coming her way without looking towards it, her expression turned to one of resigned annoyance. “Oh, give me a break-”
In a flash, Becky was sent flying off as her robot duplicate punched her face before turning toward where she was looking, electricity crackling around its body as its voice was somewhat glitched.
“Y-y-y-you’re first, leather-head,” it said, its voice box barely working.
As it flew forward to engage Brandon, the conqueror seemed to be far less disadvantaged against the machine, given its hindered speed and strength, dodging or blocking its attacks mostly with ease. During a brief pause in their combat, the two stared each other down as Brandon finalized his thoughts.
“I have no further use for this cheap metal knockoff,” he thought, knowing he got everything he needed from this contraption in its futile attempt to challenge him, “This was long over before it even began.”
(Music stops)
Hiding behind a rock to take a break, Becky laid back to collect herself, knowing that her opponent would be dealing with the machine’s antics for right now.
“Well, this is fine,” she whispered, “She’s weakened so she shouldn’t be so much of a problem that I have to get dragged into it. And even better, maybe he’ll get tired out so this won’t go on much longe-”
(Cue Time to Run - Timothy Williams (0:00 - 1:21))
Her eyes widened before she could finish her sentence as she heard the loud, unmistakable sound of electricity sparking and a beeping noise similar to an alarm blaring from what she could assume was WordBot’s sensors, as she could hear its voice cry out as well.
“Critical error! Critical error!”, the robot cried out, as its vision began to blur and sparks started to fly everywhere on its body as Brightburn simply stood there without moving and watched on as his eyes glowed scarlet.
In the POV of the red mainframe, 0’s and 1’s started to fill the screen as the once clear image presented was constantly interrupted by static as a crack formed across the surface.
“Systems Failure
Information Processing Failed
Critical Sensory Malfunction Occurring
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̸̛̘͓̩̤̣͇͒͋̏̔̈́͋̒̀̄͌͜͝ͅẼ̶̡̢̯̠̫͔̙͖͕̤̔̆̕͜͜ŗ̸̧̨͚̺̖̆̀̂͋̊́͐͆͝ŗ̵͚̌́́̏̉̒͐̈́́̚ó̶̧͚̗͉̜̲̹̝̪͙̮̤͙̈̒̋͂̓̌r̵̪͚̝͙̘̤̱̣̲̳͕̭̬̣͊̃̓̇͛̈͂́̀̇̌̉̿̇ͅ ̷̭̳̘̟͕̘̻̞̬͙͎̝̋̌̀͐́̑͝E̸̛̛̙͊͌̌͗̋̓͑͊̔͗̔͛͘͠r̴̛̪͒̈́͊̀ŕ̸̢̤͈̂́̑̒̽ö̷̳͗̏͝r̴͚͖̹͉̮͈͋͆̈́͋̉̆ ̵̦͇̎̃́͋̀Ȩ̶̧̛̮̲̣̘̾̎̃̔̒͗̾̑͆̂̈́͐͘͝r̶̡̠̬͍͕̠̯͇̞̼̟̄̀̀͛̔͜8̵̡̧̧̼͎͉̲̩̤͕̱̯̺̰̺̖̭̑̍̌̋͐̕7̶̢̭̣͖͍̩͇͓̳͎̹̺̽̀͊̎͛́͛͊̈́́̈́̚͘͘3̵̢̨̹̟̪͙̬̪̱͔̙̄͋̓́̍̔̎̾̂͗̈́͝͠9̴̛̗̭͓͔̗͇̲̃̓̓̔̑̅̈́̀͗͗͒̉̓́̕ͅͅ6̷͇̪̪̳̻͚̱̑3̶̜̘̪̇̏̀̈h̷͎͚͎̩̩̬̯͕̣͐͐͑̋̈́̅͝t̸̨͖̥͕̝̖͚̞̞͓̉́̋̽͛̈̐̈́̌̈́̽̈̈3̴̜͚̝̙̼͎͔̆̎̇͒̓ṳ̸̬̝̦̺͕͕̆͊͊̈́̒̚
1̷̬̦͖͓͇̪̗̗̼̖̝̝̼̍̋̀͆̔̀̃̓̀͆̽̍͗̔̕͝ͅ0̸̘̰̳̻̾͑͆̿̋͑̐̈́̄̕͝1̵͎̋̓ͅ0̶̛̣̑̌͋́̎̈̋̾͝0̴̛̪̪͙̥̹͇͎̣̖̜̫̥̞͂̓͌̍̄͆̏̀̂̀́͛̋̈͘͜͝0̶̲͔͇͓̔̾͂͐̆͒̂͐́̅̑̄̀̅͘̕͝ͅͅ0̴̨͓̝̞̖̜̫͈̭̺̎̿̍̍̋̂̀̈́͆̀͛̈̎̿͐͝ͅ0̵̡̧̛̛̱͖̬̽̈́́̈́͗̌̎̕͜͝1̷̢̧̧̖͖̘͙̲̫͊̇̿̏̃́̑͘͘͝͝1̸̧̘͓͎̘̱̙͍̘̰̝͖̫̤̳̽͐͒͒̌͗͘̚̕̕ͅ1̷̗̠̫͇̦̻̪̗̣͗͂̓͐͗̔́͘̕0̷̧̣͔̬̘̻̜̑̊͋̈́͜͜0̶͖̦͙͛̒̔̃͌̈́̐̇͗̒̒̅̍0̴̧͈̜̦̦̝̣̬̗͖͗͆͆̒͛́̆̈́͒̕0̷̡̡̛̣͚̠̜̺̘̮̺͉̞̞̱́͗̈́̈͆͗̐͜͝1̵̟͇̘͓͖́̎̈́̂͂̂̔̈́͝ͅͅ0̴̧̡̢͓̪͇̲̤̟̬̱̫͍̳͖̃̔͗͒̾͌̇̎͊̽̀̀̄1̷̨̨̰̱̳̣̤̣͕̭̩̜̘͚̼̼̉̿̍̕0̷̛̥̘̖̾̓͋͗͐́̃̌͂̅̏̚̚0̸̡̥̜͙̉̈̍̊̀̑́́͑̀̕”
Looking on at the disabled machine, Brandon punched it into the dirt before disappearing, leaving it trying to turn around and scan anything every time it got back up despite its ongoing meltdown.
Taking advantage of his stealth behind trees for quick attacks to slowly wear down the staggering WordBot’s remaining parts, Brandon deliberately timed his attacks from seemingly out of nowhere in much the same way as he had done so with his father following the latter’s attempt to shoot him in the woods. He wasn’t sure if robots could feel fear, but he had never come across one more deserving of an attempt to find out, courtesy of Brightburn.
Mangled and broken as its voice box was nearly inoperable and its sensors were barely functioning with its visuals turned to static, the robot collapsed on its back, crawling backward as Brandon slowly walked towards it with sadistic intent, holding it down and slowly crushing its limbs in on themselves with his telekinesis to make sure it couldn’t escape.
“Yychhagaro Larum Ghol,” the robot faintly heard from a source unknown to it as Brandon’s power manipulated its receptors to hear his ship’s message on repeat, the last thing he wanted it to hear.
“P-p-p-please! No!” the garbled voice box let out, with a tone of fear uncharacteristic for a robot, music to the boy’s ears as he prepared to tear his mechanical victim apart, “H-h-h-have mercy! No, no, no, no, no, no-”
From behind her new hiding place, the girl winced as she heard the continuous smashing of metal either impacting several surfaces or being ripped apart bit by bit, horrified as she heard glitched attempts by the robot to beg for its life intermingling with Brightburn’s screams of rage, the latter hellbent on leaving nothing but scrap metal and ashes, not just for his own satisfaction, but as an example to Becky if she thought of bringing any other interruptions here to meet their violent ends.
Hearing the voice box melting just before a final explosion occurred that scattered the scrapped, liquified or charred remains of the robot across the grass, Becky made sure to keep herself hidden and her breaths as quiet as possible out of instinct. Upon hearing the killer take off at the speed of sound away from the site, Becky hesitated to move a muscle as several seconds of silence passed.
Finally exhaling as the sounds of the water and the birds chirping seemed to be the only sounds nearby, Becky tried to calm herself as, in the back of her mind, she wondered where the boy had run off to.
“Maybe he just needed to blow off some steam-”
(Cue Time to Run - Timothy Williams (1:21 - 2:10))
Less than five feet in front of her, something crashed from the sky in an instant, as the resulting shockwave made a wide crater in the earth and sent a wave of dirt and dust in all directions, temporarily blindsiding her.
Readjusting her sight to see what was within the dust clouds, Becky saw a sight eerily reminiscent of when this encounter first began at the hotel, as if it were a wraith staring into the soul of its next prey. Brightburn emerged from the crater, floating without a sign of effort as his shining blood-red eyes glared daggers toward her pupils and his cape moved slightly in tune with the breeze. As he slowly, but stiffly, levitated towards her, she could make out his right hand’s slight motion as it held the malformed head of her robot double. The girl’s breath quickened somewhat and her heart rate increased as she saw him crush the remains of the head by slowly closing his hand, copper and oil leaking out as his grip tightened.
“Oh,” she said, smiling nervously with her back to the boulder, “you’re back. Now… I can see you’re a… bit angry…”
“What part of ‘come alone…’ Don’t. You. Get?”, his low voice echoed, a pent up, seething fury barely contained in a false matter-of-fact calmness as he inched towards her.
“Well,” she said, a degree of confidence returning, “in a literal sense, I got all of it. It’s kind of my jig. I mean, duh, living dictionary.”
The glow in Brandon’s eyes slightly intensified as a growl of rising frustration was muffled and his body tensed up.
“I know, I know,” she said, a bit of anxiety creeping up on her, “Throwing a bunch of robots at a guy who can just turn them off with his mind like a walking EMP device was a tad… uh… suboptimal?”
Brandon’s eyes only narrowed as his patience grew thinner and thinner. However, Becky misinterpreted the lessened intensity and lack of response again, reverting to practicing her usual gig.
“Oh, suboptimal means of less than the highest standard of quality,” she began, standing up and closing her eyes while not focusing on her now even more agitated enemy, “For example, if-”
Her eyes opened and her pupils narrowed as a powerful thud echoed through the area, the wind knocked out of her as she gasped and felt a sharp, aching pain in her stomach that stunned her in place. Now mere inches away from the Lexiconian’s face, Brightburn slowly pulled back his right fist that, while it had not penetrated the skin, had punched into his adversary’s abdomen at mach speeds with an applied force hard enough to make sure it hurt far more than any of the blows he had dished out today.
Nearly gagging as she fell slightly forward and put a hand to her, for the moment, sore torso, Becky avoided landing on Brandon’s shoulder as she tried to speak.
“Ow…” she meekly let out as she strained, “That was a cheap shot.”
Gripping her suit’s collar with his right hand, Brandon leaned in until his mouth was right next to her ear.
“My turn,” he said, his aggravated tone bordering on a whisper.
(Cue When Worlds Collide - Powerman 5000)
Rushing forward in flight in a blur, Brandon maintained his grip on his opponent as he slammed her head-first through several rock formations, shattering them into mere pebbles from the force while no visible damage occurred to the still reeling and now dazed Lexiconian. Standing in an area near the center of the island that had a greater tree density than the rest of the landmass, the boy tossed Becky into the air before tightly gripping her right ankle, his right hand applying both his physical and telekinetic force to not only maintain his grasp, but also to ensure a tighter grip to further pressure the already targeted talocrural region without causing an outright fracture.
Letting out a grunt of pain as her enemy tightened his hand, Becky felt herself being swung by said sore ankle to be smashed into the ground like a rag doll repeatedly as the conqueror wanted to wear her down as much as he could through overwhelming force so long as he had this opportunity. Momentarily stopping his barrage, the boy grabbed his adversary’s cape, tugging it behind her so as to choke her with it as he swung her around horizontally about four times before throwing her through several trees.
Before she could even touch the ground, the girl was caught by the cape again as Brandon quickly flew to her and threw her upward above the tree cover. In quick succession, she felt the brunt of several rapid physical blows in a midair all-out blitz before being punched into the dirt below, forming a hole perfectly shaped like her in true cartoon fashion.
Grasping the sides of the hole to attempt to lift herself up from the newly formed personalized divot, she felt herself be suddenly pulled out by Brandon’s telekinesis as he outstretched his hand before pulling it back toward himself, floating and waiting for her to reach his position before backflipping to kick her in the chin toward the sky. The hero wouldn’t be in the air for long before she felt yet another mental pull whisk her downward, the constant attacks culminating at ground level as Brandon drop kicked her in the stomach to send her crashing into the furthest plateau, cracking its surface as Becky clutched her abdomen again.
“Again with the stomach?” she managed to ask, her voice less strained than before, “Hmph, party pooper.”
Appearing before WordGirl and grabbing her throat as he slammed her against the surface of the rock formation, Brandon flew upwards to grind her against it, showering rocky rubble of all shapes and sizes as they reached the top, where he reeled back his right fist to punch her in the chest, crashing her into the ground near the shoreline on the opposite side to that of their starting location without any trees nearby, than the previous impact, making a far deeper hole in the grassy patches.
Levitating downward as the dust rose from the opening, Brightburn allowed his tension to momentarily subside, confident that his latest onslaught conveyed well enough that this was no paltry game and that he could genuinely match her power, if not outright surpass it.
Emerging with a long inhale and a quick cough, Becky levitated herself out of the hole as she breathed heavily and spoke up.
“Alright…” she said, “you can… you can pack a punch.” Steadying herself and regaining a grin, she looked toward her opponent and continued. “Speaking of which, quick question: did I touch a nerve somewhere before that, BB?”
Growling in anger with his red eyes brightening, Brandon thrust himself forward, flying as he let loose an array of punches that Becky was able to either dodge or block with relative ease, considering that while she was still recovering, he was also getting somewhat sloppy due to his agitation.
“Was it the robots?” she coyly asked with a hint of sarcasm, “Can’t say I blame you if it was. Wait, was it my word knowledge? I know, even plenty of adults are insecure about knowing less about language than I do, too, you don’t have to overcompensate for it. I respect you just the way you-”
“Will you shut up and fight me?!?” he said, bordering on a scream, as the rate of his punches increased and his voice’s volume was barely muffled by his mask.
Still blocking his blows, Becky snickered at the question with her eyes looking to the side to avoid his direct stare.
“Okay… all you had to do was ask,” she said with a smile, turning her sight back to Brandon as her eyes slightly widened with an impish glint in them, “In fact, I have a surprise just for you.”
Intensifying his attacks as much as he could out of impatience, the boy, upon seeing that his punches were getting out of sync, reached forward to grab Becky’s neck as she reeled back for what looked like a punch of her own.
(Music stops)
As Brandon tried to complete his movement, he sped forward at his desired speed and closed his hand, though with his target seemingly vanishing before he could get a hold of her. Looking behind him as he stood on the ground, he saw WordGirl standing parallel to him about 60 feet away, her back facing him as she tried to contain a laugh before she regained her composure to turn around to face him, placing her right hand behind her back as she rested her left on her cheek, whistling all the while to hide her smugness.
“What’s in your hand?” the boy asked, turning around to face her with his fists clenched.
“Oh, whose, moi?” she asked, feigning a tone of innocence before her smile widened and her eyes narrowed. “Well, heh heh, if I were you, I’d be a bit more curious about your hand,” she teased, looking toward the right hand Brandon tried to grab her with.
(Cue Spanish Guitars - Hollywood Film Music Orchestra)
Initially confused as his eyes lost their glow and returned to blue, the boy looked toward his clenched right fist before opening it to find a noticeable scrape on his palm, though not a deep cut, but enough to draw a miniscule amount of blood. It was at that moment his eyes widened in mortal shock.
“Wait,... blood?” he thought, stupefied. “How could she have possibly- Wait, unless…” At the instant he realized what Becky had done, he looked back up at her to meet her eyes as she placed her right hand in front of her, revealing what she was hiding behind her back: a metal shard held between her index finger and her thumb.
The metallic piece was a fragment he recognized all too well. The very same shard from his ship that his mother tried to kill him with. The only thing that ever injured him or made him bleed.
“No!” he thought, not saying a word, “That’s impossible! How did she know?”
“You just can’t seem to not underestimate me,” she said, a confident smile on her face as she proudly explained her ruse. “We may be close in power, Brightburn, but you made one big mistake: you didn’t account for the fact that I have a keen wit, too. Well, that, along with your first mistake of playing that message during your little horror show at the hotel.”
“Of course! How could I have been so careless?!?”
“You see, I used my super hearing to figure out where the general location of that message’s source was from, but I couldn’t do it right away because I was busy fighting you. But before I flew to the island after smacking you with that road sign, I took a quick trip to the source, where I found what I can only assume to be your ship beneath the wreckage of a barn.”
“Good thing I got rid of the bodies there before this just in case. I would’ve had to show her the ship at some point anyhow and that would’ve been tedious to explain regardless.”
“Aside from the weird red flashing I saw in there, I found a stray piece of material from that ship that I knew was distinctly alien to this planet. And given that superheroes like me tend to be weakened by certain materials from their home planet, and judging by the fact that you and I have similar powers, I had a hunch that this was your weakness.”
Brandon looked downward toward his right-hand side, speechless.
“And it looks like my hunch was correct, wasn’t it?” she asked, before raising an eyebrow, still holding the shard in front of her. “I believe that’s checkmate, mi amigo.”
(Cue Called to the Barn - Timothy Williams)
Beneath his mask, Brandon’s expression turned to a smile as he slightly chuckled and placed his hand near his right pants pocket. On the other hand, Becky’s eyebrow remained raised with her eyes somewhat widening as her confidence turned to hesitation.
“What?” she asked.
The boy sighed with satisfaction, his hand still hovering near his pocket as his head remained facing it and away from Becky.
“Well played,” he said softly, a calm, but confident tone to his voice, “Although, while that can cut me, it doesn’t weaken my powers. So you’re partially right… Then again,...” Brandon paused as he placed his hand inside his right pocket and looked at his counterpart at eye level. “As the old saying goes, great minds…” He finished his sentence as he pulled a pulsing, bright red rocky chunk out of his pocket similar in shape to the shard in Becky’s hand and held it between his thumb, as well as his index and middle fingers, “think alike.”
With a startled gasp, the girl took a step back as she looked upon the dimly glowing rock with fear, seeing that its material was unmistakable: Lexonite.
“W-w-where did you get that?” she stammered.
“I’m surprised you didn’t realize something was up when you felt more weakened after I came up to you behind that boulder. Or that you didn’t suspect it just by knowing the fact that I took a little longer than usual getting back to you after destroying your duplicate.”
“That’s it! I knew there was a reason I felt so hindered against him on his last attack spree!”
“But it seems like both our hunches were right… and you’re not the only one with super hearing. When that belt of yours went off to signal those robots coming in, I was able to pinpoint the starting location of those junk heaps by tracing the sound’s source, though seeing the direction those things came from did work to my advantage too. After I was done with the last one, I knew exactly where you were hiding behind, so I knew you wouldn’t be watching where I was heading off to.
“Once I got close to Fair City limits, I was able to find your ship and thanks to some information gathering from both what I found out before our meeting and from what I found searching around your ship, I not only confirmed that this substance existed, but after looking through your ship’s criminal database, I was able to sneak into the office building of one of your enemies - some guy in a suit, I think - and found a whole stash of it.”
“Really?” she muttered under her breath as she looked to the side, cursing one of her many villains, “Mr. Big, I knew you had more of it. Even when I’m fighting someone else, you still manage to bug me.”
“I took a chunk out and decided to test its efficiency up close when I got back,” he said, “And I was right…”
(Music stops)
Pausing before his voice turned to a more casual tone, he then somewhat digressed.
“By the way,” he said, “I was also going there to make sure there were no more robots left for you to try to throw at me, but I took a quick tour and I’ve gotta say your place is really clean. Plus, the sauna looks great.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling as her voice gained a similar casualty, “I’m a bit of a neat freak, so I always try to keep the hideout tidy. And yeah, the sauna is the perfect reliever after the particularly long crime-fighting days, you know? Wait, did you see the game room?”
“The one with the vending machine and the ping pong table?”
“Yup, that’s the one.”
“Oh, yeah, that was awesome, it was like something straight out of the arcade I went to a while ago, except like… a hundred times better. By the way, do you ever wear those suits you keep in the glass in the main room? I saw a purple one, a teal one, and a whole bunch of those in a gallery, so what’s up with that?”
“Oh, those, yeah, I’ve never actually worn those. I considered trying one for an occasion, but I just kind of stuck to the classic look.”
“No kidding. I was surprised that that ship could even fit all the rooms you’ve got in there, it’s like a… spacecraft deluxe edition.”
“I know, right? And it’s far enough from the city for people to not easily find it, so I mostly don’t have to worry about it getting robbed.”
“I think you might have the best prime real estate on planet Earth.”
(Cue Noches en Andalucia - El Tano Gabarri)
As both stifled some chuckles throughout the exchange, a somewhat awkward silence occurred for a few seconds… before the two remembered what they were doing and stared each other down with their shards held tightly in front of them, their capes flowing in sync with the breeze.
“So,” WordGirl began, “We can’t get near each other right now. I have your weakness…”
“...And I yours,” he responded.
“We find ourselves at an impasse, then?”
“It appears so… And before you start, I know what impasse means.”
“Oh, I knew you did.”
“Did you? Well, I knew that you’d know that.”
“Ha,” her voice slightly increased in volume and intensity, “You think I’m an amateur? I knew that you knew that I knew that before you even knew that I knew all along.”
“So what do we do now, then?”
“Um…” she said, taking a second to think about a solution to break the apparent stalemate, “How about this? On the count of three,... we both put these back where we found them and fly right back here.”
“Keep this between us without further interruption and you’ve got a deal.”
“Promise. I think you beat all of the useful robots from the souvenir room anyway, so that won’t be an issue.”
Both braced themselves as their stare intensified, their grips on their respective shards tightened, and they both prepared to fly away at a moment’s notice.
“One…” Becky started, a short pause following her word.
“Two…” he replied.
“Three!”, they both said, finishing the countdown, instantly vanishing from their respective positions before returning nearly just as fast with their hands open at their sides and their pockets empty to show they were no longer hiding the other’s kryptonite.
(Cue Viper Squad - James Seymour Brett (1:51))
After both took a breath in relief, the two rushed toward each other, with Brightburn getting the first punch off, knocking Becky several feet away from the shoreline and into the water with a gargantuan splash consisting of several gallons of the liquid resulting from the impact. Regaining her balance while submerged as the temporary gap in the ocean surface was refilled, WordGirl looked forward just in time to see an incoming shoulder tackle from her opponent, hitting her in the chest with the force of a battering ram as the water around the location erupted from the force of a massive shockwave, causing the seabed below the offshore deep waters to be exposed to the sunlight.
Rebalancing herself again, the Lexiconian flew toward the center of the now refilling hole in the water to land a punch of her own as her fist hit Brandon’s mask to send him flying backward into the water as the resulting shockwave widened the gap, preventing it from refilling. Acting quickly as she saw the boy’s dark silhouette rapidly approaching the separating point between the water and the opening with his fists outstretched now red irises brightening, Becky inhaled deeply before breathing out a ray of frost that froze much of the water surrounding the opening in place, with her opponent seemingly sealed inside the layer that extended several feet from the circle.
Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she watched as a ruby glow spread from the suspended killer’s eyes across much of the ice surrounding him before a small section of the solidified barrier exploded, several chunks of ice breaking off in all directions as Brandon continued his flight toward her unimpeded to go back on offense.
Dodging to the side with barely any time to spare, the hero avoided the conqueror’s charge, resulting in his attack colliding with the opposite barrier and breaking enough of the remainder of the barrier for water to pour through the cracks before he turned around to engage his target again.
At utterly incomprehensible speeds, the extraterrestrials exchanged a series of hand to hand blows, causing sonic booms with every hit that not only shattered the ice barrier, but kept the surrounding water from reentering the exposed area they used for their battleground. The walls of liquid surrounding them were held in place by the combatants’ sheer force output, more so Brandon’s telekinetic force, as the two locked in a tense grapple at the center, small waves crashing around them and the ground cracking beneath as neither would budge.
The deadlock would break as Becky withdrew her right hand to punch Brandon’s targeted left arm to weaken his grip, causing him to wince, though not audibly so. With the opening refilling, the girl lifted her opponent by the collar as she flew upwards out of the water before landing a punch and an elbow on Brightburn’s facial area. The hero then finally culminated the exchange by flying below, cupping a large amount of water in her hands as she froze it solid in the shape of a soccer ball small enough to fit in said hands and flying back up just in time to kick the sphere towards the momentarily dazed boy’s face before he could recover. The ball shattered as it hit his head, sending him flying back downward toward the shoreline as he crashed just outside the forested area.
(Music stops)
Brandon groaned, in irritation rather than simply pain, as neither damaged the other severely over the course of his experiment. He lifted himself up from the dent in the dirt with his hands into a standing position to look up at the object of his efforts, who now bore a giddy smile as she floated above the shore.
“Is this some kind of game to you?” he asked, as he focused his telekinesis on part of the water a far distance from the shoreline. He couldn’t understand. Why was she treating everything they’ve done today like it’s an exercise routine or something? It didn’t make any sense to him, but he had to get some kind of closure regarding her mindset about all of this as a last base to cover in this test.
“No…” she lied at first. “Well… yeah,” she finished, letting out a giggle that she tried to hold in before her last word. Hearing a rumbling coming from afar, Becky speeded off toward its source away from the shore as she got an idea what to do based on what she assumed Brandon’s next move was.
As he focused his sight, the boy tried to track the progress of his next conjuration, a tidal wave similar to the ones he used to wipe out the robots, but not nearly as large and targeted only toward his general direction. Brandon’s sight narrowed as he saw the wave incoming, though not out of need for greater focus, just befuddlement at what was coming with it.
“Woo-hoo!” he could hear his adversary cheer in the distance, as she surfed on the wave atop a board made of ice of her own making, laughing in childish delight all the way.
“She’s laughing!” he thought, “If this is an act, then why is she dragging this out when she knows damn well she’s kept up with me this whole time? Hell, why does she even bother restraining herself from going all out? Why on Earth is this like she’s having-”
The boy stopped himself, his muscles relaxing and his eyes losing their red color and glow as the realization sunk in for him.
“...fun?”
(Cue Mary on a Cross - Ghost (2:41 - 2:57))
“She’s just… having fun with this.” he thought, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes looked forward in entranced awe.
What he saw in WordGirl, in her radiant smile, in the way the wind carried her light cape and dark hair as the slowly lowering sun shone on her tan skin, in her glistening, bright eyes, in her carefree attitude to this whole adventure, was a vibrant, contagious joy that he had not seen, let alone felt in so long.
In fact, as he internalized the situation and reflected on everything, he realized with a smile that, if nothing else, this spar was fun for him too. He had never felt so energized, so at peace, and so accomplished as he did at that moment. This… this seeming impossibility was what convinced him beyond all doubt that Becky would be the teammate of his dreams. She made him feel his age again.
And while the test is technically finished as he believed he had everything he needed for evaluation, no matter what, he wasn’t going to waste this while it lasted.
(Cue Mary on a Cross - Ghost (0:00 - 2:40) (2:58 - 4:04))
Taking off after Becky, Brandon defensively braced himself to make contact with his would-be sparring partner, catching up to her as he flew to the tip of the wave, missing her as she kickflipped the board and caught it in her hands jumping into the air to avoid his attack.
Flying backward, the Lexiconian froze the wave in place with her breath before smashing the board into pieces over the masked boy’s head to send him crashing downward, resulting in him sliding down the exterior of the now frozen wave facedown, where simultaneously, Becky then slid down as if it were a carnival ride.
As they approached the bottom, the girl let out another blast of frost to create a makeshift ramp for her to launch from. Though, of course, the dazed, out of sorts Brandon would also launch off of it, with his ascension from this ramp consisting of him spinning out of control before landing in the water while it served Becky’s purpose of a recreated water park experience.
As Brandon emerged from the water, he felt himself be pulled by the collar as the hero flew above him, her free hand in a fist toward the sky as she flew above the sea while looking away from the adversary in her grasp for the moment.
“Best fight ever!” she exclaimed in glee, before returning her outstretched hand to Brandon’s collar and her eyes to his own, barely containing her joyous laughter behind a smile.
To her, this had turned from an anxiety-inducing challenge to, ironically, a sweet escape. She didn’t have to think about her problems in Fair City right now, she didn’t have to worry about Violet, she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing in this moment. Right now, she was having the time of her life with a foe like no other. Better yet, a foe who was almost just like her!
She had a hunch about who was behind the mask, given all the details she knows about him now, and if it was who she thought it was, it’d both be a shame because she’d have to throw a new friend in jail and a blessing in that she’d have a member of her rogues gallery who seemed to personally understand her better than any of the others ever could. While she had other lingering curiosities like what this was really all started over or what Brightburn really wanted, she wasn’t going to let that get in the way of enjoying her time with him now.
In somewhat of a contrast to the ecstatic Lexiconian, Brandon let out a slight chuckle and smiled like a schoolboy from behind his masquerade. Not since he had thought he was normal did he ever experience a sense of typical enjoyment like this. While there were more serious matters he’d need to discuss with Becky and the work in his war against humanity was far from finished, he didn’t need to dwell on those right now. For the first time in what felt like forever, he could just be a kid without a worry in the world.
Launching WordGirl off of him with a telekinetic push, the boy flew back toward the island as she tried to pursue him. Upon landing outside the forested area, she could see plenty of the trees at the edge that fell over from the side effects of their fight. Looking to her side, she saw Brandon sever a last piece of bark connecting a damaged tree to the ground before he caught the tree in one hand. Adjusting himself, he held the tree in both hands like a spear, the bottom of the tree pointing forward.
Immediately knowing what his idea was, Becky found a different downed tree and mimicked his stance as she held it in her arms. The two wielded their trees as if they were wooden staffs while they floated higher and higher above the island, the trunks being as light to them as a twig would be to a small child pretending it is a sword.
Eventually getting bored with the faux swordplay, the two dropped their battered trunks to return to their usual melee, sonic booms erupting across the island with every passing second.
“Alright!” said WordGirl, with a determined, confident look as the two landed several meters away from each other at opposite ends of the shoreline they started on. “Let’s finish this!” she said, crouching to prepare for lifting off toward the sky with her next phrase, “Word Up!”
As Brightburn took off at the same time with a vermillion shade to his eye, both superbeings accelerated towards a midpoint of their starting positions at an altitude well above the highest plateau on the land. Time seemed to almost slow down for the two supersonic aliens as the boy reared back his right arm and WordGirl her left.
With a shockwave that nearly blew the entire treeline down below them, each punch connected with its target’s cheek. Brandon’s blow made contact with the left frontmost section of WordGirl’s helmet as it partially cracked its side and unfastened it from the rest of her suit, while her blow created a noticeable tear in the cloth on the right side of his mask, though only at the lower half of it, and as such, it did not reveal his face. Blasted away from the force of their respective attacks, the two fell to the ground, tumbling across the grass a good distance from the sand before they landed on their backs, breathing heavily.
(Cue Poison Tree - Grouper)
As her helmet detached from her head, Becky tried her best to catch her breath, not realizing that her head was no longer covered in the heat of the moment. Somewhat straining as she tried to lift herself up with her hands, her thought process was interrupted in its tracks by a voice, not with the harsh, irritated tone of Brightburn, but with a softer, far more familiar gentility that seemed to echo in her perception.
“I thought it was too good to be true,” she heard him say, his clear voice being more recognizable without it being muffled by his mask, “You do have my power.”
“It is you,” she softly replied, her voice bordering on a whisper as her tone mixed enthusiasm and apprehension.
Now in a sitting position as she looked forward, WordGirl saw her counterpart on one knee with his head leaned toward the ground, his right arm resting on his upright knee as he finished catching his breath. The boy gently pulled off his torn mask with his left hand, revealing the familiar visage of Brandon Breyer, his dark hair drenched in sweat as he looked in his equal’s direction, his expression resembling his usual near emotionless appearance without any semblance of red in his eyes.
“Good to see a friendly face,” she continued with a relieved tone and a smile, as both stood up, “Well, relatively speaking, considering the whole ‘us fighting’ thing.” Catching her mistake, she quickly followed up, “Uh…, not that I know you personally.”
Without shifting his focus from her eyes, Brandon slightly smiled in turn before responding, “Glad to hear I made a good first impression, Becky.”
Upon hearing her real name, the girl quickly realized her helmet was still on the ground as she momentarily panicked and stammered, “I- Um…”
“Don’t worry. You don’t even cover your face,” he said, adjusting his hair so as to not obscure his complexion, “I always knew who you were. No one from Earth could have withstood my powers like you did. I don’t have to tell anyone else about this. I’m surprised anyone in your city hasn’t figured it out.”
“Yeesh,” she replied with a nervous laugh, mildly embarrassed as she walked closer to stand next to him as they both turned to face the slowly setting sun, though their eyes still looked to each other whenever they spoke, “That obvious to ya, huh? Super intelligence and super perception… You really are like me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said in contentment, with a low but gentle tone before looking back toward the sky, “We are…, in essence…, pretty much the same in almost every way.” The boy looked toward her again, “Let me guess, came here from a faraway planet, taken in by humans and the rest is history?”
“Yeah!” she said, her eyes lighting up before asking “You too?”, and receiving a slight nod in reply. “I mean, yeah, I guessed that, but still!”
In Brandon’s mind, he had done it. Exactly what he wanted out of all this was now within his grasp. Soon, no human would have any hope of opposing either of them ever again. Mankind would know its place and be firmly kept on the lower tier of nature’s pecking order, where, as he saw it, they belonged. Now all that he had left to do after entertaining a little bit of small talk was to get serious and iron out the details of their future cooperation.
Levitating backward toward her previous position absentmindedly as she began to ramble, Becky continued as Brandon turned to keep his attention on her.
“This is great,” she said, closing her eyes as she kept going, “A villain who’s just like me! And not a robot, obvious bonus. Then again, maybe not just like me, considering, well, I’m a superhero, you’re a supervillain, all that stuff. But other than that, it’s perfect! Now that you’re in Fair City, we could do this all the time and- Oh! I almost forgot, I think you’re gonna really like some of the other villains, they have this convention where they meet up and you’d probably get along great there. They’d probably like someone with powers like mine on their side, maybe a collaboration here and there. You know, just to spice things up for the audience at home.”
“The what?”
“Oh, right, you’re new, you don’t know about them yet. We’ll cover that later. Anyway, I know you weren’t big on the robots, but I think you and Tobey-”
As she went on and on, Brandon’s face slowly turned from mild befuddlement to borderline disgust and disappointment. “Wait…” he thought, “She… She can’t be serious, right? I get that this is her outward persona, but there’s no reason to hide her real self from me anymore. We’re on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere. No one’s here to see anything except for us, so why would she… unless… No…”
“And plus, I can only imagine the look on their faces when you tell all of them how you stole from Mr. Big’s secret Lexonite stash in broad daylight without anyone seeing you. That’ll be-” Opening her eyes as she floated back down to the spot she was at prior to Brandon’s unveiling, she slowed her speech down as her face showed confusion and concern upon seeing her adversary, “T-t-that’ll… be… Um… What? Is… something wrong?”
(Cue Roque Banos - Opening (2:32 - 6:18))
Brandon’s body faced her directly as he seemed like he was internally trying to prevent his facial muscles from conveying his full dumbfoundment and incredulity.
“This…” he wondered, “This isn’t just an act? They… they convinced you to believe you were some kind of… comic book superhero for them?”
“Pfft…” she said, trying to return to a casual tone, “I don’t have to believe it. I am a superhero. You know, fight crime, save people. Got my own signal and everything. I mean, didn’t you come here to fight me? To take the chance to be the new villain in town that could finally take me down?”
“Becky…”
“And hey, you put up an awesome fight and you’re definitely more powerful than any of the others-”
“Becky…” she heard him say with a slightly firmer voice as she stopped to listen.
“You thought I did all this…” he said, returning to his previous tone and looking downward at times as he collected his thoughts, “...take the time to scout out Fair City after flying all the way from Kansas… fight you for this long… just to join a bunch of humans in cosplay? After all that?”
“I mean,” she said, confused, “You came to fight a superhero, didn’t you? And you’re a supervillain, right?”
“What are you talking about…? D-do I look like some mustache twirling bad guy from a cartoon or something?”
“No, it’s just… What is your deal then? What was the point of all this?”
The killer’s expression calmed somewhat as he responded, “This was a test, Becky… A test of… your potential. One that you passed with… flying colors.”
“Uh…” she replied, “Thanks, but… a test for what?”
At first hesitating to find the right words to answer, he put it in the most simple terms he could think of.
“The future.”
Becky listened intently, expecting an explanation to satisfy her curiosity.
“Look,” he began, his voice softening, almost trembling, as he kept his eyes locked on hers, “we’re not from the same planet, but… we’re the only ones of even a remotely similar kind here. I know that… this will be hard to accept, but… these… people… would never tolerate us if they could pose a threat to us. Ergo…, we need to look out for each other… so it never comes to that. I needed to gauge how strong you were,... how smart you were… how fast you were… everything that I’d need to know to find out if you were ready for this.”
“Okay, wait, wait, stop,” she said, interrupting him, “I’m gonna stop you right there. I know exactly where this is going. You’re gonna say something like ‘oh, we’re both superpowered and we can rule the world because power this, power that,’ it’s not the first time I’ve heard this spiel from someone. No thanks.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” he said in a manner-of-fact tone, though it still had hints of gentility, “This has nothing to do with just power. It’s more than that. It’s a matter of survival.”
The Lexiconian, somewhat anxious and morbidly curious about where he was going with this, donned a look of apprehension as the boy continued.
“Let me ask you something… Why do you keep your identity separate and secret?”
“Well…,” she tried to answer, but struggled to find the right words, “It’s just to keep my normal life away from my… hero stuff, you know.”
“Those people say they love you… that you’re their celebrity… that you’re their hero… Why are you afraid of people knowing? If they really respected and cared about you…, your civilian identity or your ‘superhero’ alias…, why would they think less of you for doubling as their generous savior?”
“Um… Well, it might be… uh… a shock for them at first, that’s all, but… worst case scenario,… maybe it won’t change anything at all… with my family, at least… maybe I’ve been worried about nothing this whole time…they might be fine if they knew Becky Botsford and WordGirl were one and the same,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a nervous laugh.
(Music pauses)
“Like your friend was?”
As the breeze died down with their capes still flowing with its rhythm, an eerie silence presented itself after Brandon spoke those four words.
Becky stood still in place with a mortified expression that seemed as if it was holding back even more distress than was present on her face as she stared in his direction, speechless as she couldn’t think of a decent response in the heat of the moment before looking downward and processing what he said.
(Music resumes)
“And there it is…” he continued, a hint of bitterness in his voice, “It’s like I told you before: One day, a human will say they love you… and care about you… and then backstab you the next.”
“I read about you and your city in the newspapers I found,” he said, his gentility somewhat returning, “I know how it really is. That city wholly relies on you not just to clear their streets of criminals, but they’ve been coddled by you so much that their society immediately crumbles as soon as you’re not there to fix even the most basic of problems. And in exchange for exploiting you as their glorified servant, they give you celebrity status and they claim to adore you, but what do you get out of it outside of empty praise and the chance to play dress-up? The so-called ‘supervillains’ you subject yourself to putting up with just about every day of your life are to you and I… what a worm is to a god.
“Yet you coddle them just as much as you do everyone else to keep up your image and keep your constant errands with them even somewhat entertaining for you by making them think they realistically have some kind of chance against you in a real fight. Do you really want to spend your life appeasing these people who would abandon you if they knew you were trying to live in peace as one of their own?”
“Not all of them!” she managed to blurt out as her head jerked up to look him in the eye again before stammering at a lower volume, “My… my family wouldn’t… Mom and Dad… they raised me…they love me… it won’t matter what some strangers in the city think… I’ll… I’ll still have them…”
“...Do you believe that? Just because they raised you?” he asked.
“Well…, what about your family? Y-you said you were adopted too, so there has to be someone that loves…” The girl slowed down as she saw his face fully turn to a resentful glare, “...you…”
Keeping his composure, Brandon responded while resisting the urge to clench his fists tighter, “I thought they did.”
“W-... what do you mean?”
“It’s like I said: they love you one day and throw you away the next. They raised me like one of their own. Hid my heritage from me out of fear, knowing that I was something that no one on Earth could ever comprehend, much less them. No matter what I did to keep things as they were, none of it mattered. Dad…, he said he was taking me out hunting, that we’d be tracking deer together…”
Becky felt a sense of dread, her eyes widening as she could practically feel his seething anger grow with every word of his story.
“He tried to kill me in the woods, with the gun my uncle gave me. Mom…, she tried to reassure me, telling me that I was a blessing, and said that despite everything, I would always be her ‘baby boy…’ right before she tried to stab me with that shard you took from my ship…”
The girl had no response at first, contemplating every last syllable of what she just heard. Her family wouldn’t be afraid enough to do that to her if they found out who she was, would they? No, it’s just an outlier. Maybe there’s something he’s leaving out, she thought.
“I-” she tried to utter, “What happened to them?”
Brightburn paused for a moment to phrase it as delicately for her as possible without revealing what he had done next, “They’re gone now… I have no attachment to humans anymore.”
“I-... I’m sorry, Brandon. But… that doesn’t mean all humans would do that to people like us…”
“Becky,...” he said, in almost a defeated tone, “This is how things are. We’re not like humans. We’re of a different breed, a unique breed. By their nature compared to ours, we can’t coexist because they know just as well as I do that our kind is more evolved than theirs. They know they’re powerless against us if we aren’t subservient to them, so someday, they will try to find a way to kill us. You and I have power beyond their understanding. It’s what separates us from… well… mere mortals.”
As much as she wanted to say something, Becky held her tongue, reflecting on when she had uttered those last two words to describe humans in a similar fashion once upon a time.
(Cue I’m Very Special - Timothy Williams (1:20))
“I wanna tell you what I learned a long time ago…” he continued without a trace of rage, his tone softening as a means of comforting his prospect, “Back then, I learned that… I’m very… special. So are you. We’re some of the only people in the world that understand or… know how special we are… Right now, we have to think about the future, how we’re going to ensure our survival, so what we have to do will take some time and we’ll have to be careful for now…, to make sure that none of them know what we’re capable of…, but someday…, they will all know.”
WordGirl’s expression turned to concern and suspicion as she maintained her focus on him, as she asked with a somewhat trembling, but stern voice, “For the last time…, what are you planning? What do you want with me?”
“Simple,” he said, concluding in his matter-of-fact voice, “I found out what my purpose in coming here was from my ship: I have to conquer Earth. I don’t need anything from your city, you can do whatever you want there, I won’t have any issue. No one has to know we even met, for now. What I need to do is make sure that mankind is kept in their place, so as long as we work together, you won’t need to worry about anything I do. This is how things have to be, out of natural necessity.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This… this was madness. Never in her life had she heard such a jaded and hateful view of anything, much less of humanity at large, than what Brandon just told her. And as if this wasn’t worrisome enough in her point of view, she knew that the same person that told her all of this not only has power comparable to her own, but is also the most violent individual out of everyone she has ever met.
(Cue Vistoris Lake - Arden Forest)
“Brandon,” she said, finally composing herself enough to respond with a tone of disbelief as she moved slightly towards him, “That’s… that’s insane! I… I know there are some bad people and… I know you have to be careful who you trust and that we’re different from humans, but… we can’t just… domineer the world because a few humans out of a billion might try to hurt us! Heck, it’s not like we’re in any danger from them now, let alone in the future when we’ll probably get way stronger when we grow up. And what about all the good-”
“There are none,” he snapped, moving slightly closer to her before regaining his composure as his voice decreased in volume again and his head lowered, his body facing the water, “They only make you think they are. I don’t know who you surround yourself with, but in my hometown, I was surrounded by the primitive, the brash and the arrogant. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I found out I wasn’t from a stupid place like there. I’ve accepted my nature, Becky.”
“Just because there were a few bad apples in Kansas doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t at least give it a try,” she replied as they stood facing the shoreline when not looking at each other, “I know there are good people in the world, I’ve met so many of them over just the past two years alone. If it weren’t for the humans who raised me, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”
“I wouldn’t be who I am now if it weren’t for them either… How many of those same ‘good’ people would lie, steal or tear each other apart like rabid dogs the minute you or anyone else isn’t looking? What’s your point?”
“Who says some arbitrary ‘nature’ has to define who we are or what we do? I’ve found people who accept me despite me not being human, so it’s not out of the question for us to have meaningful connections with people if we try. Sounds like it’s a lot better than trying to control the planet and living in paranoia of a worst case scenario my whole life, if you ask me.”
(Cue Dear God - Timothy Williams)
Brandon looked back up toward Becky, disguising disgust behind his otherwise motionless expression, as he realized just how much she had been, as he would think it, duped by the human race. Of course she was too naive to see their animalistic nature and the harsh reality of the existence both of them faced. He knew he was being too optimistic at first, so at the very least, he could try to remedy this, which seemed to be the only glaring issue with his would-be partner or protege now. Luckily for him, he had just the idea to bring his plan to a final success.
“You know,” he said with a slight smile that quickly faded, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them at the end of his next line, “You have a lot more faith and hope in them than I ever did… and I’m sorry for you.”
Looking toward the shore, the boy’s enhanced senses allowed him to lock on to a destination he had designated just in case he needed to give one final test.
“I need to show you something, Becky… Follow me and you’ll understand everything.”
“Oh,” she said, “Not sure what this is for, but alright.”
As the girl motioned toward her helmet to take it with her in case they were going somewhere populated, she suddenly felt the back of an arm placed in front of her chest in an instant to stop her from going forward, as Brandon was now mere inches away from her.
“Where we’re going, you won’t need that,” he said softly, “No one’s ever heard of you there.” Placing his mask inside his pocket, Brandon took off to fly away from the island toward his next target.
“Whatever,” Becky mumbled, before flying after him in a streak of light, leaving the island once again empty.
(Cue Peder B. Helland - Abandoned)
As the sky donned a dark scarlet color due to the difference in time zones between locations, the place the two eventually stopped their flight above appeared desolate with not a soul in sight. Not much stood out from the rural landscape aside from its desert-like terrain and the water tower that appeared almost as if it was overseeing every building in sight, making them seem miniscule by comparison.
The two situated themselves in a standing position, floating at a high enough altitude to match the water tower’s height with several feet of distance separating them.
“What… is this place?” Becky asked, her eyes peering around to see several small buildings in their utterly ruined states before looking back toward Brandon.
“It won’t matter,” he answered, looking down as he held his mask in his right hand. The boy’s expression changed to one of external melancholy, sparing a few seconds before speaking up, his tone resembling one of mourning as he looked directly at her.
“I used to think a bit like you, you know. I even told Mom that night that… I wanted to do good for people… and I meant it then. But it didn’t matter in the end. Even if I still wanted to, there’s no going back to the way things used to be. I understand now that you can’t run from nature. If we accept it and adapt to it, we’ll live. If we deny it and become weak, we’ll die. No species is exempt from that.”
While he was expressing his genuine thoughts, Brandon also saw this as an opportunity to stall for what he really lured his prey into. Unbeknownst to her, he had come to this hamlet before and the survivors here are some of the only ones left alive who even suspect that Brightburn was more than just an urban legend speculated to have been responsible for disappearances and disasters around the world. They would know his mask and cape all too well. All he’d have to do is place his mask back on and wait for what he was anticipating.
On the other hand, Becky grew more apprehensive as she heard at least one other heartbeat other than their own coming from a nearby home. With every sentence, she felt increasing nervousness about what her counterpart intended here, given how he had kept the circumstances of his experiences, and more concerningly, the fate of his parents, vague during his confession.
“Brandon,” she said, somewhat trembling as she looked him in the eye with a concerned visage and a serious tone, “You’ve been dodging plenty of my questions so far…” She paused to take a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you this one time… why did you bring us here?”
The boy kept silent for a moment as his expression turned blank, his tone changing from sorrowful regret to unempathetic acknowledgement.
“To give a demonstration of a law of nature I’m talking about,” he said, a hint of smugness in his next words as he donned his mask once more, “One I’ve had to act on countless times, including here.”
“W-what law is that?” she asked, her voice somewhat increasing in volume as she heard the sound of the aforementioned heartbeat become louder and faster, as if it were getting closer.
(Cue Coming Home - Timothy Williams (2:23))
The sound of gunshots rang through the air as eight bullets meekly bounced off of the back of Brightburn’s veiled head without so much as fazing him. Quickly ascertaining that Brandon was unharmed, WordGirl peered behind him to get a look at the shots’ source, while the boy slightly turned his head and body toward the same direction.
Obscuring a pleased smile, Brandon saw a man he recognized as one of the survivors of his previous escapade here, as the fool quivered upon quickly realizing that even though he thought he had snuck up on him, his pistol was useless against someone like Brandon anyway. As the man tried to turn the gun toward himself with one bullet left, a sudden gust of telekinetic energy blew it out of his grasp off into the distance before he looked back at the world’s tormentor he desperately tried to kill, feeling that nothing could save him now from whatever torturous demise the boy had in mind for him.
Concentrating his psychic power to amplify the human’s fear to reduce him to internal hysteria as the man resisted the urge to scream, Brightburn slowly turned back toward his equal. Hearing her heartbeat increasing with thinly veiled panic as his eyes turned to the same dark red that Becky first saw at the hotel, the killer calmly finished his explanation while holding his human victim in place with his mind.
(Music stops)
“Survival of the fittest.”
In a flash, Brandon appeared in front of the gunman with a hand gripping each side of his head to slowly crush it as the alien’s eyes began to glow red and the latter started screaming.
(Cue Act 3 Protect (high) - Jamie Christopherson)
“No!”, the girl cried out as she flew at lightning speed to stop Brandon’s attack, using her left hand to grab his head to lean it backward to redirect his heat vision toward the sky while slamming her free arm into his torso to tackle him and break his grip on the man, all in the span of a second.
Still flying through the air as the conqueror’s heat beams dissipated, having missed their target, WordGirl adjusted her grip to hold onto his collar with both hands in order to punch him in the chest hard enough to send him flying backward all the way into - and through - a far off mound.
Standing up quickly and grabbing his gun, the man looked around as he tried to collect himself just before a yellow streak stopped in front of him to reveal the girl who just saved his life, clearly in a rush.
“Thank me later, no time to explain, you and everyone else need to get out of here quick! I’ll hold him off!” she hurriedly said, before dashing off back where she came from faster than he could see.
“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he replied, rushing off to warn anyone else to evacuate while she bought them more time.
Flying toward the edge of the village, the hero saw her enemy rapidly closing the distance between the two, their flights culminating as they clashed underneath the water tower. What occurred next resembled the back and forth martial combat the two engaged in on the roof of the hotel in Kansas, though with more force, haste and audible strain behind each hit, as the Lexiconian knew there were now lives at stake and the conqueror was fuming, feeling a mixture of disappointment and frustration at having his kill interrupted.
Blasting the girl away from the tower with an elbow to the stomach amplified by telekinetic force, Brandon flew towards his target, momentarily catching her off guard before smashing her through the walls of several houses in the immediate area, with Becky stopping their momentum with a punch to his previously targeted left arm. As she was about to gain the upper hand in a grapple, Brandon noticed several humans leaving the previously damaged homes in a panic in the direction of the water tower.
Breaking off the lock with a headbutt as he flew towards the tower, Brandon floated above the structure while staring down at the approaching Lexiconian. As soon as she was within sight, Brightburn telekinetically loosened every nut and bolt holding the tower up with a wave of his hand, motioning it downward toward its right with the intent of crashing it onto as many screaming people as possible.
Seeing the trajectory immediately, Becky rushed her adversary, shoulder tackling him with enough impact to send him flying a mile away before flying toward the tower, catching the collapsing water tank just in time with both hands as the supports came apart, all while making sure that no one was injured or worse.
“Everybody run!” she pleaded, the people complying immediately as they wanted to get as far away from the chaos as possible, though a few rushed thank you’s could be heard amongst the crowd.
Floating upward as she lifted the leaking tank and the crowd made its getaway, Becky listened for any sign of Brightburn, a sign which shortly came in the form of the tank exploding after being hit by a ray of plasma courtesy of the latter, knocking her toward the ground as the water soaked both her and the surrounding area.
Still discombobulated, WordGirl looked up to see her opponent emerge from the resulting smoke, flying downward from the air with a punch to her rib that further dented the ground beneath them as a side effect of the shockwave. The boy followed this up with a blow to her left cheek and a far more forceful blow to her right ankle, causing her to momentarily shut her eyes and cry out in stinging pain. Exploiting this moment of vulnerability, Brandon pulled her by the hair with one hand and flew upward toward the cloud cover.
Upon reaching a suitably high distance near the clouds, Brandon let go of his adversary’s locks to instead grasp the back of her neck as he held her in front of him. The boy looked to his side and smirked, thinking that what he could hear and see coming suited his purposes just fine, as he turned both himself and the girl towards it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s crashed one after all.
Becky opened her eyes to see, not too far away from them, an oncoming passenger jet, as she became more and more visibly terrified at what her counterpart could possibly be thinking.
“No…” she thought, seeing its lights flicker seemingly out of nowhere, “is he insane?!?”
Thinking quickly as the lights and machinery shut off inside the plane, she grabbed Brandon’s wrist as hard as he could with both hands to release his grip before thrusting her head back to hit him square in the nose hard enough to break his focus and make enough temporary distance between them to give her time to stop the plane from crashing.
Flying downward to catch the jet by its nose as its systems came back online now that Brandon was no longer interfering with them, Becky tilted the nose slightly upward to straighten the descending aircraft before flying beneath the craft’s center to lift it back up to its original altitude. As it reached the necessary altitude, she could feel the plane being pushed downward by something to contest her strength.
Peering up from beneath the center, the Lexiconian saw Brightburn floating above the jet, pushing it down with his telekinesis. While the altitude was still stable for the moment and Brandon didn’t seem to be trying to shut the plane down, Becky could make out the unmistakable visage of the killer slowly charging his heat vision, realizing that he was about to try to cut the aircraft in two.
As her breathing became rapid, she came up with a solution in the nick of time, taking a deep inhale before quickly exhaling in her opponent’s direction, aiming a blast of ice breath directly at him as a pre-emptive measure.
Brandon fell backward and yelled out in both shock and physical discomfort as he was suddenly blinded by a sheet of ice that formed over his eyes. The plane now stable, Becky took the opportunity to let go and unleash a blitzing onslaught on her opponent in his temporarily blinded state, landing blow after blow at unknowable speeds to overwhelm him as they both hovered over the craft.
Punching the remainder of the ice with his left hand to regain his focus, Brandon exchanged more blows with his opponent as both stood atop the wing of the jet. Spear tackling the hero off the plane, Brandon quickly backed away from her as they floated parallel to one of the plane’s engines. The combatants’ capes blowing as if they were in the midst of gale force winds, Becky tried to get the next shot in before the conqueror intercepted her mid-flight with telekinesis as he outstretched his right hand. Following this, he kept his hand open as he focused his telekinesis to push Becky toward the engine, the tip of her cape narrowly missing its blades by mere centimeters.
“Woah, no!” she yelled as she looked back to see where she was being pushed, her eyes widening in fear as she briefly hyperventilated, though she maintained her focus to use her strength to resist his force as best she could.
As she slowly moved forward further and further away from the engine through sheer determination, Brandon slightly closed his palm, though not all the way, to apply pressure to a specific weak point. Though she winced in pain from the increasing soreness of her ankle area, WordGirl pressed onward, reeling back a punch behind her before leaping forward and striking her adversary in the wrist to break his concentration.
The boy grasped his wrist with a muffled grunt of pain before being thrown backward far away from the plane as his opponent landed a kick to his face with her left leg, creating a new tear in his mask near his left eyebrow. The plane now nowhere in sight, Brandon looked around for WordGirl. Lifting his arm in front of him just in time to block a forearm strike from his opponent, Brightburn stared her down as they clashed.
“Leave them out of this,” she said, her voice shaking, “Like you said, this is between you and me.”
“You can’t see it yet?” he asked, concluding she doesn’t know the real purpose of what he was doing, “For once, I’m disappointed.”
Kneeing him in the stomach before following up with an elbow to his chest to send the conqueror reeling downward, WordGirl flew after him to continue their fight as they both reached ground level, the hamlet now mostly empty as she had largely succeeded in buying enough time for evacuations. The two clashed once more, this time with Brandon gaining the upper hand and launching her further down the street they landed on with a kick to her right leg.
As they prepared to charge at each other again, they both spotted something that elicited opposite reactions in them, with the Lexiconian’s one being of worry and the killer’s being of bloodlusted hatred. Huddling up as they were trying to sneak past the combatants by moving along the side of a nearby building, a couple, a man and a woman who looked no older than either alien’s adoptive parents, seemed to be the last humans that haven’t been able to leave the area yet.
Telekinetically forming a wall of debris from nearby rubble to block their exit without even moving his hand, Brandon decided to give some more time charging his beams before firing, just to give them the extra heat that an occasion like this deserves.
Rushing to hold Brandon back as his eyes glowed ever brighter and hers started to water, Becky wrapped one arm around his torso to lock his arms in place and the other arm around his neck to try and keep him from aiming properly.
After a second or two of the girl’s struggle to hold him down, Brandon, with a growl of rage, unleashed a ray of heat vision hot enough to burn holes through the concrete debris with ease as the beams slowly made their way toward the two humans who cowered in the corner furthest from the fiery plasma praying for a miracle as there seemed to be no escape.
“Brandon!” WordGirl begged, shouting as fear engulfed her being and tears of strain and panic slowly ran down her cheeks, “Please!… Stop!”
Unabated, the boy continued to try to move his head against her resistance, trying to burn the last two humans here to ashes.
“Never…” he snarled aloud after a brief silence.
Just as the beams were about to make contact with the humans’ flesh, the hero mustered her strength in a last ditch attempt to save them, flying upwards with Brandon still in her grip even as he used his telekinesis to pressure her ankle simultaneously. As they thrust toward the sky, Brightburn’s heat vision unwittingly burned open a gap in the debris for the humans to escape through while the two aliens continued fighting, as Becky planned.
Realizing he had been played and ceasing his heat output as they were now at least several dozen feet above the hamlet, the conqueror furiously kicked his opponent’s right knee to weaken her grip before they resumed grappling in mid-air. Both descended once more as they slammed each other through wall after wall, with no more casualties to worry about in Becky’s case as she could hear that everyone made it out.
After multiple high-speed clashes at different points in the area all seemingly happening in an instant each, WordGirl, sore and worried, looked around the hamlet’s center for any sign of where her foe went off to this time. Hearing rumbling in the distance, she looked up to see Brightburn floating in front of the setting orange sun, eyes glowing as he held his hands open stretching out from his sides. A gargantuan dust storm of his own making descended upon the hero’s vicinity, engulfing her and the area in gusts of sandy wind to throw her off balance.
Holding her ground as the storm failed to dislodge her, Becky lowered her arms from her eyes, spotting Brandon standing a few feet away following his handiwork. Still somewhat unsteady, she bungled her attempt at a punch as she connected with his face without enough concentrated force behind it, resulting in him not moving from his position.
Taking advantage, Brightburn quickly reeled back a punch that he connected with as hard as he could to the nose, sending her hurtling upwards before she was intercepted by a downward punch to the same area to crash her into the dirt.
(Music stops)
As she got up on one knee, Becky felt groggier than usual given that those hits felt far stronger than most of his attacks thus far. Pondering how much he might still be holding back, she noticed her nose begin to ache and moved to touch it. However, upon touching near her nose, she felt a sense of dread engulf her as she felt a thin liquid touch her glove. Holding her hand in front of her, she saw small drops of fresh blood dotting her palm. Though her nose wasn’t fractured, broken or disfigured in any way, Brandon had still drawn blood nonetheless.
Letting it sink in that he was indeed strong enough to be the first to ever make her bleed, Becky looked past the dust cloud in front of her to see an obscured Brightburn, his eyes glowing as he floated nearly motionlessly toward her as if he were staring at her through the hotel door again. On the other hand, Brandon knowingly took his time approaching her now, inwardly relishing his humility of the supposedly invincible as he saw what seemed to be an entirely new emotion behind her eyes, his fear amplification affecting her as it did in their first conversation now that she was without her helmet.
For what was perhaps the first time in her young life, WordGirl, hero of Fair City, felt her heart sink with a once completely foreign sensation as she stared into the abyss that were the eyes of her worst night terror made reality:
The sense of mortal fear.
(Cue Don’t Tell the Sheriff - Timothy Williams (0:00 - 0:40))
Quivering in place as her counterpart’s psychic ability took effect, the girl’s breath sharpened before she felt herself be telekinetically lifted off the ground and slammed back-first into the lower side of the nearest building as Brandon held out and motioned his open right hand to guide her trajectory. Becky strained under the invisible pressure that intensified as her tormentor concentrated his power, tossing her shoulder-first into a house on the opposite side with a slow hand wave. She couldn’t muster enough strength at the moment to break the boy’s grip as she was thrusted one last time to the ground directly across from him with a quick jerk of his hand.
In the second she tried to lift herself off the ground groaning in discomfort, WordGirl was immediately blasted backward through the air with a shoulder to the side of her head, causing her to tumble on the ground for several feet before landing on her face at a spot not too far from the ruins of the water tower behind her.
Lifting herself up as blood drops trickled between her nostril and upper lip, Becky staggered and struggled to stand while trying to raise her head to refocus on her attacker, despite her palpable terror at looking at his veiled form. The scent of smoke intensified as about every building in sight in the now destroyed town was in ruins and on fire.
“Congratulations,” she heard him say as he took his mask off and she looked toward him, trying her best to hide her distress to no avail, “You’ve saved them, but look at you now. They’re a liability, a crutch to keep you on a leash. If you learned from me and didn’t show attachment, this couldn’t be used against you.”
Before his counterpart could say a word, Brightburn landed a quick right haymaker to the right side of her face, sending a quick squirt of blood out from her nose as his fist connected. Stumbling backward, she barely had time to look up before a more casual left-handed punch connected with the other side. All it took was a third punch to the center to disorient her even further. Trying to hold her ground for a few seconds, WordGirl eventually succumbed to her nauseating dizziness, falling to her knees before then falling flat on her stomach with a moan of exhaustion.
Willing herself to tilt her head upward as her hands grasped the dirt, she made eye contact with the conqueror as the latter slowly and gently floated toward her just a few inches above ground level, showing no sign of emotion other than a look of scorn on his face.
“You think…” she managed to say, her breaths shallow as defiance showed itself in her tone, “...that I would be anything… like you…? Never!”
Any subsequent statement would have been interrupted as she suddenly felt a sharp sting in her head from telekinetic pressure, yelling in pain as she grasped her head and positioned herself on both knees before leaning toward the ground.
“This is the key difference between us,” he said, without any pride noticeable in his voice as he spoke, “Like I said, they’ve conditioned you, made you hold back for so long you can’t protect yourself, let alone realize your potential. As long as that’s the case, since I don’t have that problem, you will always be weaker than me.”
Upon his last word, Becky felt a pressure similar to the one now no longer in her head, but far worse in its tight grip, manifest around her bad ankle, causing her to clench her eyes and cry out louder in excruciation, clutching the dirt beneath her as tears rapidly streamed down her cheeks.
“Our conflict with humans is nature at work,” the boy continued, landing on the ground as he took a few steps forward until he stood directly in front of her, “Whoever is stronger survives and whoever is weak dies out, no matter what I or anyone else thinks. In the end, I’m just playing my part.”
This couldn’t be happening, the girl thought. This had to be some horrible dream. This… this monster who she could now definitely tell beyond a doubt had killed his own parents like she feared couldn’t be the same boy who shared cookies with her at the bench when she was at her lowest. The one she had the most fun fight of her life with couldn’t have just tried to massacre everyone in this village without hesitation right in front of her.
“You’re a murderer,” she sobbed, as a mixture of despair and disdain showed in her shaking voice.
“Doesn’t matter what you call me. It won’t change the reality that in this world the powerful have to keep their inferiors subdued… And I embrace being the strongest.”
(Cue Don’t Tell the Sheriff - Timothy Williams (0:40))
The girl took a deep breath without changing her position as she felt the pressure gradually lessen and her hands gripped the dirt tighter.
“But you don’t have to be afraid of me, Becky,” he said, his tone returning to a gentility it had when they met as his telekinetic grip disappeared and his eyes returned to a human-like blue, “They don’t have to hold you back anymore. You have my potential, so I can help you unlock it. We’ll be equals, as our kind should be. You can be free of their whims forever.”
The girl opened her eyes, still facing the ground as her breath somewhat slowed.
“Come with me, Becky,” he said, getting on one knee and slightly reaching his palm out for her to take his hand without shifting his emotionless gaze, “...and everything you could ever want will be yours,” slightly smiling at the last word.
WordGirl, on the other hand, felt insulted beyond belief as she remained still and focused on the dirt that her hands clenched ever so tighter around. “You…” she thought, “You have the audacity…” The girl’s blood boiled as she mulled over everything that’s happened in the past few minutes. He could wipe out her city if she wasn’t around. Someone so willing to murder the people who raised him would have no issue killing her family. Such were her thoughts as her fear of his path of destruction turned to a simmering personal hate, her breaths returning to their previous brevity as her anger intensified.
She was holding back too much, she thought. With one more trick up her sleeve, the usually composed, chatty heroine resolved to finally let go.
Seeing her previous shaking be replaced by stillness with the occasional twitch, Brandon’s lifeless expression returned as his hand returned to his side upon sensing that she could apparently move without issue.
“Get up,” he whispered, standing back up, stuffing his mask in his back pocket and waiting for a few seconds but receiving no motion or sound in response other than seeing her grip on the dirt beneath her tighten with every time he spoke.
“Get. Up,” he said impatiently, with a slightly louder tone bordering on a snarl before hearing a muffled growl from her, an expression of irritation from hearing his voice. Brandon’s eyes widened as he lost his temper and grabbed her by the collar with his right hand.
“I said-” he began to yell as he pulled her up to face him. He wouldn’t finish his demand, as the girl forcefully grabbed his shirt collar with both hands to pull him toward her, her eyes glowing yellow with an expression of pure wrath as their faces were mere inches parallel to each other.
(Cue Cutscene 45 - Jamie Christopherson (1:31 - 2:03))
“SHUT UP!” she screamed in rage, a deafening sonic wave emitting from her mouth and reverberating throughout the vicinity as it amplified in volume.
Yelling out in pain, Brandon clasped his ears and shut his eyes as the sonic scream made his ears throb with an unexpected aching sensation as if his eardrums were about to burst. Before he could recover, the incensed Lexiconian used her right hand to pull his head backward by the hair and her left to pull his mouth open by the chin.
The boy suddenly started to suffocate as Becky, inches above his face, blew a narrow wave of frost into his open mouth, forming a cluster of ice that solidified inside his throat.
Letting go of Brandon’s hair as he choked, the girl reeled her fist backward to bash him in the chest, sending him flying several miles away from the town and causing the icicle in his esophagus to crack, though any resulting fragments of ice did not cause any internal damage. As he was still careening backward, he was hit with another right-handed punch, this time to the left side of the back of his cranium, the pain noticeable to him, but not leaving a lasting bruise or injury. His unwilling flight continued as he tumbled across a greater distance’s worth of barren dirt with the ice coating in his throat fragmenting with each impact before he landed on his side in a desolate valley.
(Music stops)
Gagging as he leaned over on his hands and knees, Brandon coughed up the remainder of the ice crystals that had left his throat and entered his mouth, every other shard or block of ice being shattered along the way, clearing his respiratory system for him to take a deep breath afterward.
As he processed what had just happened, he firstly was grateful that his innards were just as durable as his skin since the fragmented ice likely would have reduced the throat of an ordinary human to shreds. Second, looking down at his palm that now held a chunk of ice in it, he felt stupefied that he had been genuinely endangered for once and that WordGirl had thought of a move like that so quickly. Partially melting the ice in his hand with quick, but narrow beams of heat, Brandon placed it in his mouth, allowing the resulting liquid to refresh his dry throat so he could gather his bearings.
His breath slowing, the boy had a third feeling come to him as he recovered with a slight smile: satisfaction.
(Cue Holding Out for a Hero - Adam Lambert (0:00 - 0:49))
He had done it. Though she didn’t seem to realize it, he had goaded her into trying to kill him in instinctive self-defense. Even though he would usually reserve a rather torturous end for anyone who tried to hurt him, this was an occasion like no other. If all went well, then he’d finally get to see her unrestricted power and potential.
“Heh,” the boy began as he stood back up, looking around but not seeing any sign of his opponent, “I should have never doubted you for a second. I knew you had it in you. You learn quick.”
Still not hearing or seeing anything out of the ordinary in the dust cloud that now surrounded the area as a result of his crashes, Brandon concluded that the Lexiconian had apparently learned the value of his stealth as an intimidation tactic. “Good,” he thought, “She’s improving.”
“Shut it,” he heard Becky say, her voice echoing from a location unknown to him with a tone of spite, “Your praise means nothing. We might have some powers in common, Brightburn, but you’re wrong about plenty of things about us, one in particular stands out.”
“Oh, really?” he replied, a spark of veiled confidence in his smile, “How is that?”
“To cut to the chase, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not conditioned to hold back, I choose to, for the safety of others who I could end up hurting. And to your point, yeah, I do walk on eggshells to make sure I don’t hit too hard… but you can take it…, can’t you?”
The conqueror turned around as he could pinpoint a direction where the approaching voice was coming from, looking up toward the elevated edge of the valley with thinly cloaked anticipation.
“And I don’t have to ‘embrace’ my strength or rely on proving my power any more than I need to, unlike you,” the girl said without the previous noticeable, but distant echo, as her silhouette came into view, slowly walking to the edge before stopping. Becky’s form came into full view, looking down at Brandon with her arms crossed and a look of detestation on her face as their capes blew in sync with the breeze amidst the staredown.
“Besides, why would I need to?” she continued, her eyes glaring as she finished with a lower tone of voice, “I am the single strongest in all the cosmos.”
The killer’s expression momentarily shifted from a smile to an irritated stare in response to what he took to be an apparent assertion of superiority, though he ultimately retained his composure with his excitement renewed at the prospect of unleashing more of her potential.
“Care to test that theory, ‘Talking Thesaurus’?” he asked, partially in anger, though also in anticipation as he readied himself to leave the ground to fly toward her.
“‘Living dictionary,’” she corrected, before slowly preparing herself in a similar fashion, her subsequent insult being made in a manner that portrayed contempt rather than jovial lampooning, “Come at me. Ladies first, Bright-boy.”
(Music stops)
As Brandon left the ground first with a somewhat wider grin than before and a red glow in his eyes, Becky responded in kind with a liftoff of her own, with both combatants aiming for a punch in mid-air above the valley before the resulting clash generated a shockwave equal in expanse to the width of the valley itself.
(Cue Holding Out for a Hero - Adam Lambert (0:49 - 3:52))
The aliens’ clashes resumed, with near-instantaneous sonic booms occurring from place to place, the battle switching between locations miles away from each other as they collided. During one such clash, Brandon was thrown downward by a punch toward an empty construction site as he hurdled into a fuel truck, the tank exploding as his body punctured it at mach speeds, leaving him on the ground without visible bodily damage as the remaining oil burned.
Before he could get up, the boy felt himself be picked up by the cape as Becky slammed him through several walls at the site face-first before kicking him in the back to send him flying toward the sky.
In the midst of holding off the girl’s onslaught as they continued flying through the air, Brightburn’s ecstasy grew with every second. WordGirl’s hits felt as if they were more focused and precise, more forceful than at any point in their duel. Even though he wasn’t going quite all out, he could tell that she was a worthy match for him even as he was putting far more effort in than before. And yet, he knew that despite her current state of mind, she was still somewhat self-restrained, refusing to go all-out for what he could only guess was a force of habit.
“Doesn’t matter,” he thought, “I can see it in your eyes how much you’re holding it all in. I will make you let it out one way or another.”
As Becky vanished from sight after dodging a blast of Brandon’s heat rays, the latter continued floating a considerable distance above the ground. Hearing movement from somewhere close to the large plateau behind him, the conqueror knew his adversary couldn’t contain herself forever.
“Still trying to hold yourself back?” he said, huffing from exertion as he turned around to look at the plateau upon which the silhouette of his counterpart now stood, “Why don’t you try letting go for once?”
The boy’s last taunt was followed by an attempted right-handed punch as he flew directly toward her location.
(Music stops)
Brandon’s momentum was suddenly halted as his fist no longer moved forward on contact. He looked down to realize that his hand was being held not by her hand, but by a single lift of the Lexiconian’s left index finger as her scowl came into his clear view.
Stunned at the seeming ease she had blocked his attack with, Brandon’s eyes lost their glow and red coloring before he suddenly felt her thumb make contact with the bottom of his palm, retaining a grip strong enough to prevent him from pulling back his fist.
“What the-?” he muttered as he looked back up at WordGirl’s face, an expression of concern forming on his as he stared into her eyes.
(Cue AXIS - Tom Player (0:00 - 0:36))
“Let go, huh?” she said softly, her body starting to tremble as her eyes flared up with a yellow tint and her breathing gradually intensified, “You sure that’s what you want?”
The boy slightly grunted as, in the blink of an eye, Becky’s left hand was repositioned to tightly grasp his wrist, her grip tightening as she continued.
“Remember what you told me at the bench…, Brandon?” she continued, her volume somewhat increasing, “About how some people you trust as friends can backstab you?”
The killer’s eyes slightly widened as he found himself still unable to break her grip and looked into her eyes to see an expression conveying a primal wrath he recognized as not too dissimilar from his own.
“Well, I thought you were my friend, Brandon…,” she said, her tone bordering on a scream, “And you betrayed me!”, growling the last two words out through gritted teeth as her grip tightened to further strain his wrist.
Brandon barely contained himself from yelling out in pain as he felt a grip powerful enough to crush an ordinary human’s bones into splinters, realizing that he might have just bitten off more than he could chew.
“You wanna see me let myself go that badly?” she asked, her voice returning to a normal volume albeit retaining her resentful tone, “Fine…, wish granted. But know this…, Brightburn…,”
As the boy’s eyes fully opened as he stared into her gaze with his lips slightly open in mortified shock, the last fragment of her sentence brought about not necessarily regret, but a feeling within that he had never thought any being in existence could elicit in someone with his power:
The fear of death.
(Music pauses)
“You’ll regret this after I’m done breaking you.”
(Cue AXIS - Tom Player (0:36 - 3:39))
WordGirl followed her threat by pulling him toward her into a punch to the ribcage, hurtling him away from her to a far greater distance than either fighter had been thrown so far as she let go upon impact. Flying backward through the air, Brandon couldn’t stabilize himself before he was pushed toward the ground by a blow so fast he didn’t see it coming in his peripheral vision.
Tumbling both on and through the dirt below due to the sheer force applied, the boy could barely process what was happening, though he was able to momentarily focus his thoughts on defending against future strikes so he could assess his next move, barely having enough time to internalize that he was being punched across several varying landscapes in the relative vicinity of their previous geographic location of the town.
If one would consider several dozen kilometers at bare minimum to be “in the vicinity,” that is.
Quickly flying up from a crater created by his latest crash in a plain full of hills, Brightburn looked around him to try and get a glimpse on where the girl would hit him from next. Before he could react, she came seemingly out of nowhere to kick him in the left arm, which became noticeably more sore from just the one attack, let alone from the previous times it was targeted. Gripping his arm in pain, Brandon had no time before being thrown through a hill and emerging out the other side prior to falling on his back.
Grunting as he lifted himself up, he quickly looked behind him, briefly gasping as he saw a yellow blur come into point blank range of him, Becky’s growl of rage getting louder before she tackled him through a series of hills, causing many of them to crumble and collapse from the ensuing impacts. Shortly afterward, Brandon was thrown by his cape with one hand into a flatland a few miles away, cratering the surface as he crashed through the dirt headfirst.
Buried underneath the dirt, the killer felt himself be grabbed by the ankle and yanked out of the dirt like a vegetable before being thrown in the air to be blasted away with another punch to his chest, the soreness worsening as his torso began to bruise.
Between consecutive blows tossing him through various rock formations, land features and sometimes abandoned buildings depending on where they found themselves, Brandon could make out the echoing sound of a scream of fury between every strike. All the while, it terrified him that for once, those screams weren’t the boy’s own.
Doubts about whether or not he could handle this crept into his head, an almost foreign notion up to this point. The girl’s physical capabilities spoke for themselves, as it seemed readily apparent to him that not only was she fast and strong enough to harm him to some degree given his struggle to keep up with her and the bruising from her strikes now that she had been pushed over the edge, but he now suspected that she might be even faster and stronger than him, a thought he desperately didn’t want to entertain.
Suddenly, he felt a gloved hand grab the back of his head, the pain in the spot WordGirl had punched before following her sonic scream intensifying and causing him to let out a strained grunt behind gritted teeth.
“What’s wrong?!?” Becky shouted, huffing in untempered anger, “Can’t keep up?!?” The hero rammed her opponent face first through the dirt below before throwing him through a skyscraper in the closest abandoned city she could spot, the windows shattering as the building collapsed on top of him.
Flying out of the debris toward the street furthest from it, Brightburn situated himself to try and figure out a way to wear his adversary down, given that it seemed that physical force wasn’t going to do much if he was forced on the defensive as much as he was since her threat.
As he tried to catch his breath, he looked up and raised his arms in front of him just in time to block another incoming punch from his airborne counterpart, trying to use his telekinesis to push her backward to minimize the force being applied against his defense. While he held his ground as the asphalt beneath him cracked with every slow punch, Brandon noticed that his telekinesis wasn’t holding her back much, almost as if she was strong enough to power through the strength of his psychic ability through sheer strength and will alone.
“Just giving you what you wanted, Brandon,” Becky said, vitriol filling every word as she continued bashing his forearms, “Everything and more!”
Reeling her right arm at the last word, the girl punched forward and caused Brandon to slide backward all the way to the opposite end of the road, his shoes grinding through the gravel before his momentum finally stopped and he let down his arms as they were tired out by the aforementioned blow.
This was going to be even more difficult the longer this went on, he thought. If anything, this was already spiraling out of control and could go from bad to worse if he didn’t think of something to get himself out of this mess, especially as Becky’s fighting form didn’t seem to be getting any sloppier despite her mental state. Fortunately for him, he did have a back-up plan from the beginning if his gamble went too far south, though he’d need to buy time to pull it off.
Inhaling deeply, the nearly worn out conqueror outstretched his right arm to the side, grabbing hold of a nearby condominium with his telekinesis as his left arm was slowly lifted to do the same to another. Seeing Becky flying toward him, though not as fast as before, the boy strained as he clapped his hands shut in front of him to rip the buildings from the ground and crash them into each other with her caught between them.
Brightburn took a step back as he heard the sound of crumbling metal from the now smashed together buildings, his face wearing a look of both anxiety and frustration as he watched two gloved hands ripping a hole in the surface closest to him with two glowing yellow dots visible in the opening.
“Damn it!” he thought, “I can’t even slow her down for long!”
The two buildings exploded as WordGirl burst from the wreckage to grab Brandon by the collar with one hand and launch into the air above the desolate skyline. Before she could say or do anything, the boy mustered enough strength to try and punch her in the cheek. Aside from her head being turned for the moment, the attack didn’t seem to faze her much given Brandon’s tiring state, much to Brandon’s dismay as she looked back at him while his hand left her face.
“Please,” she bragged in a low tone, before her face returned to an expression of fury as she reeled her fist back to strike the killer in the nose, sending him flying backwards toward the cloud cover as blood squirted out of his nostrils, leaving a thin trail of red liquid in his flightpath.
Just before he was about to slow down, the boy was caught off guard with an axe handle to his left arm to send him flying backward miles upon miles until he finally crashed into the side of a cliff, making a large indent in its surface surrounded by cracks as he groaned in pain, his body starting to grow weary and bruised from the constant all out assault.
In the middle of a deep breath, Brandon was interrupted by a knee to the stomach, causing him to lurch forward with a cough as Becky appeared in front of him before placing her left hand around his throat.
“Who’s?!...” she screamed, before her right fist punched his stomach just as hard as the knee strike while the rock behind him cracked further. “Weak?!...” she continued, gut-punching him again as he retched. “Now?!?” The last word reverberated as she punched him one final time, this strike aimed for his cheek, thrusting him through the cliff and destabilizing the entire fixture to the point that it collapsed backward onto him as he emerged from the other side. After the debris settled, Brandon was flung through the air with a blow once more, flying all the way toward an area above a faraway volcano on a completely different continent.
Regaining his posture as he levitated above the active volcano, Brandon took a moment to wipe the blood coming out of his nose and mouth with his arm, part of it now exposed as plenty of rips and tears revealed themselves on his sleeves. Taking a look around him before he returned to a forward facing position, Brandon felt somewhat relieved, not just because it would take longer than usual for WordGirl to show up, but because the location was exactly what he needed to execute his failsafe. All he’d need to do is keep his guard up until he had concentrated enough telekinetic energy to achieve his desired result and as such, he would waste no time in starting.
Gently repositioning himself to the edge of the chasm’s crater, Brandon saw his opponent floating downward from the sky in a standing position, her fists clenched as she stopped at the opposite end of the gap, looking directly at him. Both attempted to catch their breath as the battle, though not too visibly, had taken its toll on their supernatural stamina.
“Feels…,” Brightburn huffed, “good…, doesn’t it?”
“You…” she replied, holding herself back for a moment as she breathed heavily, “don’t know when to quit.”
“Got that right…,” he noted with a smirk as his eyes shined red, agitating her even further.
“Just a thought…,” she said, shaking as if steam were coming out of her ears, “How about… this time… you try staying down?!?” Screaming the last two words, Becky rushed her counterpart to ram him through the rocky edge of the volcano with blinding speed, followed up by a blitz of blows that overwhelmed her enemy even as he tried to use his heat vision to force her to go on the defensive only for her to either dodge the beams or for them to be intercepted by a quick blast of frost breath.
Battered but only somewhat bloodied with small cuts on his arms, the boy felt himself being launched forward toward the sky before somewhat regaining his focus and preparing a punch of his own, concentrating telekinetic power for his backup plan and for amplifying his immediate strike attempt simultaneously. Seeing the girl coming from above as he anticipated, Brandon struck first only to have his punch intercepted and caught by her open left hand as she reeled her right one back and let out an echoing scream of hot-blooded rancor.
(Music pauses)
“I’ll obliterate you!”
(Cue AXIS - Tom Player (3:39 - 3:51))
WordGirl’s fist connected with the same spot on the back of Brightburn’s head that she hit previously, bloodying her glove as while the skull wasn’t injured, the blow was hard enough to cause external bleeding. The impact sent the boy hurtling toward the ground, the Lexiconian’s echoing shriek of uncontrollable fury syncing with his yell of pain before he collided with the ground a good distance away from the volcano, creating a wide, massive crater in the rock below as the resulting thud reverberated throughout the entire landmass.
(Cue Main Title (A Nightmare on Elm Street) - Steve Jablonsky (0:00 - 1:22))
As the monumental amount of dust settled to reveal Brandon laying on his back in the center of the crater, the conqueror found himself exhausted, the previous blow having worn him out on top of all of the other blows he had taken. Desperately trying to crawl away from his current point with his eyes closed or at least turn over to his side, the boy found it painful to try and rapidly move anything at all in his current state, stifling groans of exertion all the while.
Amidst the killer’s writhing in his seemingly debilitated state, a shadow emerged from the dust clouds, the figure touching the ground just a short distance away from him.
WordGirl slowly walked towards him, bile showing in her tinted eyes as she stared downward. While Brandon’s vision was hazy and his body ached all over, he could make out the visage before him, seeing in her once timid face a virulence only comparable to his own toward humanity. As he took in slow breaths and beheld the ultimate result of everything he had done since he had read the newspaper that fateful night, the girl stood over him with a sprinkle of his blood scattered across her cheek. She thought not of another joke to make, nor even any of the childish things her thoughts usually indulged in at the end of her fights, but solely of the wretch before her and how to make him pay.
She waited a second before gripping his collar with both hands without picking him up from his spot, leaning down to look him in the eye, no matter how narrow the boy’s were at the moment.
“How was that?…,” she said in a low, dark tone only slightly louder than a whisper, more venom creeping into her voice with every word as the golden glow in her eyes became brighter, “You thought you could beat the most powerful being on Earth?!?” Her voice, still somewhat echoing, reverberated throughout the vicinity upon the last word.
Blood seeped from a cut on Brandon’s lip as his eyes briefly fluttered, the motion stopping as he focused his vision on Becky, his eyes starting to glow red.
(Cue You’re All Grown Up - Benjamin Wallfisch (2:20 - 3:38))
Before he could do anything, the hero growled in rage as she punched him near the eye as a pre-emptive move, his head rebounding off the ground with a thud as the glow lessened and the crater cracked further. The girl’s grip on his vest shirt collar tightened as her eyes and speech became more inflamed.
“Don’t test me! I’ve had enough of you!” she said through gritted teeth before taking a few quick breaths to try to somewhat compose herself. Following her statement with three consecutive right-handed punches to Brandon’s mouth, further damaging the rock beneath them, Becky placed her left hand on his chest to hold him down as she slowly pulled back her right arm.
However, she took pause with a look of confusion as Brandon’s face repositioned forward to face hers with his eyes closed and a slight grin of delight. The boy deeply exhaled as he struggled to open his eyes under the pressure, but was able to muster some words of his own.
“Look at you…,” he whispered, “We are the same…, you’re perfect, Becky.”
In his mind, he had just gotten everything he wanted. To him, even as he was still concentrating his telekinesis beneath the ground for his backup plan, it didn’t matter now since he knew he could take some more hits even in this state before he had to resort to that. This was insurmountable proof that she is just as capable of unleashing her true power for exacting vengeance as he is despite how she handicapped herself for those humans. Surely, she would accept the reality of their shared nature now.
Her breath quickening and her expression conveying bafflement, Becky quickly wiped the blood off her cheek with her right forearm, only to stop her arm from moving as she looked at her hand in shocked silence.
WordGirl looked at her gloves, both caked in the boy’s blood, with wide eyes as she tried to internally deny every word of what he said and looked down at his face.
“You’re everything…” he continued, his tone akin to the honeyed words of the devil, “...I could have ever dreamed of.”
The killer let out a stifled giggle behind his smile, both to distract from the pain of his wounds as they slowly healed and out of ecstasy for his efforts seemingly paying off in full.
In a rush of anger, the girl reeled her arm back, hesitatingly preparing to punch him one more time. Anything, she thought, to shut him up.
Before she could act on her impulse, Becky stopped herself, lightly gasping as she realized what she was about to give into and what she was to go through with.
“What am I doing?” she thought, “Was I just about to…” Her face turned to despairing regret as she looked at her bloodied hand and then back to her counterpart. Even she didn’t put much thought into the possibility that she could’ve ever snapped like that before. She shuddered to think of how she might’ve acted on her impulses if the captain wasn’t around to help her control her power since Steven wasn’t around anymore. Or worse, as much as she dreaded the possibility, maybe she could’ve ended up like…
She stopped her train of thought there, letting go of Brandon and unclenching her fist to allow her right arm to return to rest at her side as her eyes stopped glowing.
(Music stops)
“No,” she said, a firmness in her tone.
“Oh?” the boy barely muttered out as his eyes returned to normal, before hearing her speed off and come back in a matter of seconds, “Reconsidering what I said?”
“No, I mean…” she continued, an uneasy tone to her speech, “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”
“What?” he asked, incredulously as his voice returned to normal, opening his eyes as he pushed himself back up, recovering somewhat quickly. He saw the girl now standing a few feet away from him, though still in the area of the massive crater as she seemed to have used those previous seconds in flight to clean the blood off of her.
“You heard me… I’m a superhero… Superheroes don’t… they don’t try to hurt people…”
“Again with this superhero crap?” he asked in an irritated tone, strain still in his voice as they both seemed tired, “Why do you still cling to being their-”
“Do you know why I do any of this?” she interrupted, in a manner of fact tone, “This is what I do. I help people.” Her voice began to quiver as her eyes took on a look of pity toward her foe, conveying a tone gradually becoming more emotional as she continued.
(Cue City in the Sky - Natus (2:26 - 4:24))
“From day one… From day one since I crashed on this planet, I saw firsthand how loving and caring the people here were. I was found in the woods with nothing but a binky and a monkey, but I was still accepted… I was treated like family… I… I still am. No matter how hard things got, no matter how many robots or rays were thrown at me, no matter how many hairbrained schemes I had to foil, no matter how frustrated I was with having to deal with the city’s problems, I knew it would all be worth it in the end, not just because I was helping those people specifically, but because it was the right thing to do. And that’s what being a superhero is: doing the right thing.”
Brandon’s disappointed expression somewhat changed to one of intrigue to where this was going as Becky’s eyes started to water, though she hadn’t cried.
“That’s what keeps me going… That’s how I handle having this power even when I thought I couldn’t deal with the pressure… I knew that I could use it for good… And as a matter of fact…” Becky looked directly into Brandon’s eyes from a distance as she emphasized her next words, “I know you can, too.”
The boy felt taken aback by this, his expression softening as he listened intently, befuddled that she would even say what he thinks she’s about to.
“You said you used to want to do good for people,” she said, a determined tone mixing with her quaking voice, “well, I’m here to tell you that you can. I know that ship was telling you all that nonsense about taking over the world and that’s why you thought we had to team up to do that. Well…, how about a counteroffer?
“We go to your ship and destroy it…, you leave the Brightburn name behind…, and I’ll teach you everything I know about what I do. My sidekick helped me control my power even when my mentor was gone, so maybe we can help you, too. You said your mom told you that you had good inside you… we can prove her right together. We can’t change what’s already happened…, but there is always hope for the future, Brandon.”
The girl continued trembling as she sniffled upon thinking of what she was going to say next, while her counterpart slightly raised an eyebrow as his eyes peered away in deep thought.
Part of him almost wanted to consider it, it seemed too good to be true. Then again, he thought her existence was too good to be true when he read that paper, as well. Was this a way out? Would he not have to put up with the ship’s voice anymore? Was there a purpose for him other than the subjugation of this world? Was this failure to turn her to his side a blessing in disguise? Was his mother right? Could he strive for good again?
“But know this…,” she said, tears welling in her eyes as her voice grew louder and more indignant, “I’m not gonna give up… I will never give up…, especially to you. If it was any of my usuals, they’d usually be up to some goofy nonsense, but you… knowing what you plan to do… I have to stop you because I know exactly what’ll happen to everyone and everything I’ve ever loved if I let you take even one step forward… It doesn’t have to be this way, Brandon, but it’s your choice…
“So if you’re dead-set on ravaging this planet and maiming its people in some deranged attempt to destroy everything in your path…, then you’re gonna have to go through me… because putting myself in harm’s way to protect them, even if you try to kill me…, that’s just what superheroes do.”
(Cue Grand Hall - Mikko Tarmia)
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol…”
Brandon heard the whisper of his ship again, not acknowledging it as his focus remained on WordGirl. After wiping his blood and hair from his face with his sleeve, the boy’s eyes were revealed to have changed in that they were now somewhat narrowed in contempt in stark contrast to Becky’s pleading gaze, dark bags under the former’s eyes while the latter’s bags were far lighter.
There is no starting over, he thought. Even if he tried to be like her despite everything that happened, he reasoned, it would mean that the purpose given to him by the only connection to his real heritage and everything he’d sacrificed for it was utterly pointless. That he’d spent all this time planning mankind’s downfall only to be offered to play apprentice for someone naive beyond reason… and then there was that.
All of the tests, all of the physical strain, everything that he had done these past few days to get to this point had, despite so much progress being made and her fitting his ideal mold almost to a T, had now culminated in a spectacular failure. She wasn’t backing down. Even in his last gamble to gain her as his sole ally, he was now faced with an outcome he felt he should have expected from the beginning no matter who was stronger than the other: in this effort, he had already lost.
However, it was obvious to him that dealing with the aftermath of this venture was far easier said than done, as well, given that Becky having superior physical strength and speed was very much still a possibility. Then again, it remained to be seen whether she could take as much damage as he could, so he felt somewhat confident that he still possessed a durability advantage. Regardless, he’d need to use that and just about any other possible advantage here.
Like all the others that had stood in his way…, she must die.
The two stared for a few moments longer, their muscles somewhat relaxing without the stress of combat. Their hair and capes moved along with the breeze as bits of ash descended from the sky and Becky started to realize that she wasn’t going to be pleased with what Brandon was about to respond with.
“You know, Becky…,” he started, his voice conveying bitter resignation, “If we had met a year ago… and you asked me that… when I found out who I was…, a part of me might’ve wanted to.” The conqueror continued in a tone more reflecting acceptance of something perceived as inevitable as well as disappointment in his counterpart, “But as it stands…, nothing you say would get me to stop now. As much of a shame as it is…, be honest with yourself as I am with mine…, this wasn’t going to end any other way.”
The heroine sighed sadly, peering down in defeat before looking back up, “Still no way to talk you out of this, huh?”
“...No…” he replied, the following silence being such that one could hear a pin drop. In a few seconds, the boy’s eyes peeked downward before returning to their position, a closed smirk slowly forming on his face as he now knew he had concentrated enough energy for his failsafe to work.
“Becky…,” he said, “Your… ‘schtick’ is with words, right?”
“Yeah…, why?” she asked, pondering where this was going.
“Well…, what does the term ‘magma chamber’ mean?”
“Oh, well,” she said, her voice somewhat resembling her usual “defining” tone despite the extreme circumstances, “a magma chamber is a reservoir of magma, meaning liquid rock, within the earth’s crust beneath a volcano.”
“And what happens when enough pressure is applied to the gasses in that chamber and enough magma is concentrated in it?”
“Oh, easy, depending on the liquid’s buoyancy and several other factors, that would cause a chain reaction resulting in the magma coming to the surface in a volcanic eruptio-”, she stopped herself mid-sentence with wide eyes and a worried tone just before the ground began to shake, “Aw, dang.”
Brightburn’s smile vanished as he closed his eyes and slowly raised his outstretched hands to mentally control the magma beneath the volcano to bring about the final product of his backup plan, causing the said chain reaction and an eruption. In a titanic explosion, a thick geyser of lava burst from the rupture’s opening. As his eyes opened with the magma still under his command as it flew toward the sky, WordGirl also beheld the spectacle, looking directly at it in, at first, horror at the sheer extent of his telekinetic power, but then confoundment afterward as she turned to face Brandon again.
“Oh, come on!” she said, annoyed.
(Cue Worth the Fight - No Resolve (1:20 - 3:41))
As Becky finished the last syllable, Brandon flew toward her at blinding speed to tackle her to the ground, her back plowing through the rocky terrain as he held onto her suit’s collar while continuing his airborne charge. The killer’s grip tightened as his eyes glowed scarlet and his expression conveyed a savage fury while fire and debris lurching from the volcanic rupture began to scatter across the battlefield.
Punching the boy in the chest to break his grip and launching him several feet away and toward the volcano, the Lexiconian emerged from the divot made in the ground to fly toward him. A brief series of dodged and parried punches and kicks was exchanged in a few moments before Brandon flew a short distance backward to charge up and fire a blast of heat vision, with the girl dodging its path in mid-air.
The heat of the beams intensified as Brightburn spun around to follow her flight path, burning a horizontal line through the side of the volcano as she flew past it. Culminating his burst of plasma as he completed a 360° turn, the boy released another blast upon seeing WordGirl materialize in front of him. She flew upward to avoid his beams, a move which was followed by his heat vision trailing her again, this time turning to form a vertical circle rather than the previous horizontal one to attempt to force her dangerously close to the floating sheet of lava that he was still holding with his telekinesis at an elevation parallel to the volcano’s top.
Barely managing to avoid getting caught between the ceiling of magma and the lasers, Becky managed to fly downward before speeding up to dash underneath his levitating form as his heat vision melted open a long, shallow crevice on the ground beneath him before he returned to his previous stance, his burst culminating again.
Reaching his hand backward to telekinetically latch onto flaming rock from the side of the volcano as its structure crumbled, Brandon growled in rage as he willed several chunks of pyroclastic material to be thrown forward from his location, his palm outstretched in front of him as his eyes retained their bright red light.
Stopping her flight as she looked back toward Brandon’s direction, WordGirl saw an incoming hail of rocks, whether they be jagged or rounded, launching toward her. Flying back toward the conqueror’s location, she narrowly dodged rock after rock, able to feel the scorching heat each one had due to their contact with the lava inside the volcano, with some still having traces of the orange liquid on them or inside of them as they crashed against the ground that now had a noticeably widening split in part of it as Brandon further extended his telekinesis to expand the size of the divot his heat vision carved to allow more magma to seep through it.
Having dodged every rock thrown at her, Becky nearly closed the distance gap between her and Brandon before the latter dodged her blow and landed a punch to her shoulder with his formerly outstretched hand to send her flying a short distance backward. Noticeably straining as he unleashed a torrent of rabid blows to try to momentarily overwhelm Becky’s defense, Brightburn combined a quick punch with a telekinetic push to send her crashing into the ground on her side, cracking the surface just a dozen feet away from the aforementioned opening in the land’s crust.
Flying backward a long distance away from her, Brandon outstretched his arms, slowly raising them upward as he ached from the constant pressure of focusing his telekinesis on multiple tasks at once. Focusing as much power as he could muster on maintaining control of the lava already kept in the air following eruption and the magma seeping through the ground, as well as holding his opponent to prevent her from getting up and flying away from her current location, Brandon closed his eyes and screamed in exertion as geysers of lava burst all around him, all the while hoping that this was the final push he needed to end this fight.
As Becky attempted to get up with one hand on the ground as she looked up toward her counterpart, she was stopped as she felt a sudden pressure on her wounded ankle, grunting in pain before re-opening her eyes to look around her. Adrenaline kicked in as her breaths turned sharp and panicked, seeing both the lava sheet in the sky and the various bursts of magma start to converge. Brandon’s telekinesis was merging the two masses of liquid together to form a wide dome of magma to leave no escape for his adversary.
While she had time to think of a way out given that the boundaries of this formed dome of fiery death were far away from her, WordGirl knew that she’d have to think of something fast to get out of this as she could see both the ceiling and sides of Brandon’s telekinetic creation were closing in and fast.
Steadying herself, Becky looked around her before looking downward as the pressure on her ankle dissipated since Brandon felt he no longer needed to hold her down now that he thought she was sufficiently trapped.
“Alright,” she said softly to herself, a tone of uncertainty permeating knowing that this was likely life or death for her now, “here goes nothing.”
The girl inhaled deeply, with a quiet crackle of ice in sync with her breath, as she felt the heat around her increasing with every inch the lava crept.
Brightburn’s eyes opened slightly as he held his hands in front of his chest, his fingertips parallel with his palms facing downward as he slowly closed the distance between his hands to ensure that the magma would stay together long enough to engulf his foe. Seeing the dome begin to grow more narrow in width as the walls closed in, Brandon exhaled just before saying one last thing to his captured prey.
“Goodbye, Becky,” he softly said, his voice having the same soft tone he used when they first met, relaxing and closing his eyes as he believed victory was nigh, “We could’ve ruled the world together.”
With that, he joined his hands together as he let go of his control to allow the lava to fall, believing the distance to be sufficiently narrow enough to quickly reduce his quarry to ashes.
(Music ends)
Levitating downward as he now believed his work was done, Brandon let out a sigh of both relief and resignation as his shoes touched the ground far away from the volcano. The boy’s relief turned to confusion as he no longer heard the flow of liquid lava nor, come to think of it, did he actually feel the lava converging and engulfing his target despite feeling his control over the fresh liquid’s flow ceasing. Slowly opening his eyes, the glow being no longer present, he stood baffled before what he saw.
In the distance, he could see a large dome of newly hardened rock shaped exactly like the formation he had just formed earlier. The boy could also notice that the ground both near him and near the solid structure had cooled significantly. His confusion turned to disbelief as he focused his super hearing to find out what was going on, only to quickly realize what had just happened, his enhanced sight noticing signs of frigid air seeping through slight cracks in the dome.
Quickly realizing his error as he looked straight forward, Brandon’s eyes widened, disbelief turning to fear as he heard the sound of both a deep inhale and the formation of ice from inside the dome.
“No…” he said, realizing what was about to be unleashed.
(Cue Act 2 Red Suit Combat (high) - Jamie Christopherson)
The side of the dome burst open as an arctic hurricane with a force dwarfing that of an F5 tornado plowed through it with no resistance, the wind engulfing everything within a 100-mile cone of WordGirl’s location. Brandon managed to plant his feet and stand his ground, barely able to see anything in front of him as he raised his forearms to cover his face.
Lowering his forearms with his eyes closed, he desperately attempted to trudge forward as the snowstorm threatened to dislodge him from the ground, his slow steps only possible through sheer strength and willpower. Brandon’s fists clenched at his sides and his teeth gritted as he felt the wind only grow stronger with each passing second, feeling himself slowly be unplanted from the ground despite his best efforts.
“No!” he shouted in resistance.
Trying to reach his hand forward as his eyes slightly opened with a brief flash of red across his irises, Brandon felt an even stronger gust of wind blow against him, causing him to lose his footing and be swept into the air. The conqueror yelled out as he was carried careening further and further away by the storm until he was completely out of immediate sight of the hurricane’s starting point.
(Music pauses)
Now that the storm was making rapid progress to a faraway destination, Becky caught her breath as she emerged from the opening in the dome, inhaling deeply after having exhaled so much in such a short period of time. Looking around her, she could tell that just about every last bit of lava as far as the eye could see had been completely cooled into solid rock, if not covered in an additional thick layer of ice.
“Good,” she thought, “that was a bit too close for comfort. It was either trying that or gambling on bursting through the ground and hoping to not get fried. Now, I can just wait ‘till the storm is over and fly over to wherever he lands. I’m not down and out yet, Brightburn.”
Several hundred miles away, Brandon mainly recalled flying over mostly oceanic bodies rather than land in a trajectory that he could only assume may have been predetermined by his adversary to keep him away from any populated areas. The storm began to finally weaken as the winds’ intensity became in tune with the normal wind velocity of the area it had culminated in.
Brandon crashed repeatedly on the ground before finally landing on his side in a snowy field full of short grass near a large mountain, noticing the temperature and landscape befitting an alpine ecosystem under a nighttime sky. Turning over onto his stomach as a natural blizzard rained down on the surrounding flora, the boy slowly crawled forward before latching onto a nearby boulder and pushing himself on top of it to catch his breath.
“Just great,” he thought, his hands clenching onto the snow as he opened his eyes, “That’s Plan B thrown out.”
This situation was getting too close for comfort to his liking, as his weariness from constant exertion, physically and mentally, slowly grew. Brandon knew he’d have to try to find some surefire way, any way, to put his now ex-prospect down for good, as he wasn’t sure gambling on whose stamina would outlast the other in a war of attrition was worth the risk, given how even they seemed to be.
(Music resumes)
Before he could resume his thought process, Brandon caught a glimpse of a large shadow looming over him before looking up just in time to see the rocky dome from earlier slamming onto him, breaking both the part of the surface that hit him and the boulder he laid down on into chunks. Far above where he was and at a fair distance to boot, WordGirl pulled the gargantuan structure backward behind her like a hammer before swinging it downward onto the boy’s location twice more, leaving only a single large solid slab of rock left for her to swing with as a result of every other surface of it shattering.
“Giving up’s still on the table, Brandon!” she called out, just before flying toward him and swinging the slab backward like a baseball bat, her swing launching him off the ground and crashing him back-first into the side of the tallest mountain in sight.
Slowly levitating away from the dent formed from his impact, Brandon’s body tightened, shaking with rage as his eyes opened and their glow returned.
“I’ve had enough of your banter,” he thought, “In fact, I think I’ve had enough of you.”
Becky noticed the boy speeding towards her in a frenzy, desperately trying to land a crippling hit quickly as she managed to block or parry all of his physical attacks. It seemed that he was getting sloppier, more impatient in trying to win as fast as possible. “Good,” she thought, “Just as planned.”
Dodging one of his left-handed haymakers, the girl took the opportunity to take the initiative, vertically slamming her elbow into the center of his outstretched left arm. The conqueror yelled out in pain and grasped his arm just before he was hit with a quick barrage of attacks from all directions, the heroine’s speed making her appear to the human eye as a mere yellow blip repeatedly hitting him rather than a tangible person.
Ending the barrage with a kick that sent Brandon rapidly hurtling upwards high above the mountain’s center, the Lexiconian flew to a point a long distance above said center. Just as the killer’s path reached above the peak, his momentum was quickly halted as Becky landed an elbow to his stomach, sending him reeling downward at such a high velocity that he crashed through the peak itself, grinding through the center of the mountain until he reached the bottom while exploding debris scattered around the still intact mountaintop as a result of the collision.
(Cue Isolated in Time - Vortex (5:16))
Within the bottommost caverns of the mountain, now enlarged as a result of the previous impact, Brandon laid back against the cool, solid walls, trying to collect himself and taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. He could still hear her heartbeat from all the way above the structure, a frustrating reminder to him that this endeavor continued still. Not to mention, his reckless sloppiness just gave her an opportunity to wear him down some more, as if he needed that right now.
As his thoughts returned to the source of his frustration, Brandon’s internal concerns grew. This… This had all gone wrong. He couldn’t be faltering against her. He couldn’t be faltering against anyone. Could she truly be stronger? Faster? Would she outlast him?
“Yychhagaro… Larum… Ghol…” he heard in his mind.
“Right,” he thought, silently thanking his ship for getting him refocused, “I still have options. I won’t panic.”
Taking a decent look at his surroundings as he opened his eyes slightly, he noticed the dark caves would be pitch black to the human eye, even with the opening in the top of the mountain as a potential source for a small amount of light to seep through. Given the uneven placement of rocks, debris and the irregular shaping of some of the walls, he had a hunch that this would be perfectly suited for him to use his stealth skills to gain an advantage if he bided his time here and waited for her to come looking for him.
As he weighed his options, the boy inadvertently caught a small rock in his open palm before reflexively crushing it into sediments without realizing what had happened. He gave a quick glance to the remains before eyeing a larger piece of rock loosely attached to the wall, noting that his heat vision could reduce that to sediments as well, and despite the cooling from the air temperature, it should still retain plenty of heat if he kept it condensed in place with his telekinesis.
The final form of his idea took shape as he reflected on his past killings, ultimately fixating on the death of his mother, Tori Breyer. Remembering how he had slammed her through the barn’s roof and approached the stratosphere before looking her in the eye one last time and letting her fall, Brandon- no, Brightburn believed this to be the best model for his next resort, with some tweaks to the killing method, of course, as terminal velocity is meaningless to extraterrestrial beings like him and WordGirl.
There was something fitting to him about it in a sense, something poetic: The same way he had destroyed his last attachment to man just before his conquest began would be all too similar to the way he would take his greatest victory and snuff out humanity’s great defender.
The debris settled atop the mountain as Becky floated above it, peering down to see the cracks formed all along the sides of the structure. She listened closely to make sure her opponent was still in the same place, hearing a heartbeat coming from the bottom, almost exactly where she sent him.
What caused her hesitance as she slowly floated down toward the location was the fact that she couldn’t hear footsteps or any sign of movement that could indicate his location if he had chosen to hide. An anxiety heightened in her as she softly landed on the center of the ground without a soul in sight within the dark caverns.
“Brandon?”, she called out in a tone concealing uncertainty as she slowly turned to look above and around her for any trace of him.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the shadows, Brightburn kept himself out of view, levitating as his eyes appeared normal for the moment to make sure the bright glow didn’t give him away. An eerie silence engulfed the cave as he waited for her to unwittingly stumble into his trap.
Taking slow step after step, the girl treaded carefully as she scanned the surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. Several feet behind her, as her cape slightly shifted in the direction of the wind, inside the mouth of a nearby cave opening that otherwise appeared pitch black, a floating silhouette could be barely made out with his cape drifting similarly. The killer’s face bore a cold glare as he stared at her, his features barely noticeable.
As the wind slightly picked up and blew Becky’s cape upwards enough to mask the silhouette for a split second, he vanished from the cave’s entrance without a sound or trace. WordGirl turned her head to where he once was, slowly turning the rest of her body to see if he was nearby. Outside of her view, he hid behind a stone wall near the entrance, his eyes slightly brightening as he willed a telekinetic command for his roll of the dice.
Suddenly, Becky saw a small pebble fly upward into the opening and hit a wall inside of it. Quickly turning around to see its source and rushing a few feet forward, she was momentarily confused as she didn’t see Brandon or anyone else there.
In the blink of an eye, what at first appeared to be a darker than usual rock burst from the wall and exploded into heated ash and char, the dust scattering around her face as she fell back from both the shock and the irritation to her eyes. As she yelled out in discomfort and put her hands over her eyes to clear her vision, Brandon appeared unmoving just outside the dark entrance.
Watching as she wiped the last of the dust from her eyes with her guard still down, the boy quickly flew forward just as she tried to turn around. Before she could realize what was happening as her vision was still blurred, Brightburn gripped her right wrist with his left hand and choked her with his right to hold her in place, his face wearing a grimace of hate mere inches away from her eyes as the girl struggled to breathe.
“The Earth… will be mine!” he growled before shouting the last word.
(Cue Tori and Brandon - Timothy Williams (1:02 - 1:49))
Simultaneously letting out a scream of rage that echoed into the night, Brightburn flew upward at mach speeds and burst through the remaining topside of the mountain as he continued unhindered to higher and higher altitudes, his grip still keeping who he planned to be his next victim from easily escaping.
The boy’s focus was not averted by their increasing distance from the earth’s surface, just as it was not distracted by both combatants’ ramming through the top of the mountain head first nor by Becky’s attempts to use her left hand to try to take his right off of her neck, attempts that weakened as his chokehold infrequently tightened every time she tried in order to force her focus back on trying to not suffocate.
The killer’s gaze remained upward toward the stars as they had long passed the stratosphere from which he had dropped his mother, as he was aiming for a much higher destination, one where nothing could hear the girl’s wails as she would suffer slowly: in space, just outside the earth’s atmosphere.
The Lexiconian felt the drop in temperature as her assailant started slowing down just above Earth as she quickly noticed the conditions around her change to that of the vacuum of space, though this didn’t worry her in and of itself given that she can breathe there just fine and normally had no difficulty dealing with its conditions.
Brightburn’s grip on her neck loosened somewhat as his fingers tilted the girl’s head to the side so that her left cheek, rather than her eyes, would be parallel to his, all just before his slowing rate of ascent came to a steady stop. This, he thought, is going to be cathartic, as he intended to savor the time before the demise he had half a mind to make her beg for.
Becky’s pupils turned to pinpricks as they opened just in time to see her opponent’s now sanguine eyes begin to flare up in her peripheral vision, her breath sharpening even with the loosening of his hold on her throat, realizing what was about to happen.
The killer let out a primal growl as he focused his most lethal weapon set at a - at first - relatively lower temperature for his most drawn out torture yet, then… released it.
(Cue Mary Shaw - Charlie Clouser)
A blood-curdling shriek of unmitigated anguish left the girl’s mouth as she felt the scorching rays of light contact her cheek, not piercing or melting the skin at its current temperature, but hot enough to vaporize the tears that streamed down it from her tightly shut eyelids. The sounds of tears sizzling would not be noticeable to her at the moment however, as while she couldn’t see how much, if any visible damage was being done, she was overwhelmed with the worst agony she could have ever imagined, the beams feeling as if they were the concentrated fires of hell.
As the volume of her scream seemed to increase rapidly as he gradually increased the heat output, of her own intention or not, Brightburn didn’t realize or have time to process his miscalculation before it was too late.
Suddenly, a sonic wave emitted from her throat, the sheer amplitude of the sound causing blood to pour from his ears. After about a second of trying to maintain his focus, the beams abruptly halted as he closed his eyes and clasped his ears with a yell of pain, a pain far greater than what he had felt from the previous lesser sonic scream.
Taking the opportunity to strike now that he had let go, the Lexiconian reeled her left fist back for a hard punch to his nose, blood seeping out of it with a light crunch as he was sent reeling backward into the distance far away from both her and the earth, possibly all the way to Mercury as far as she could tell given how much force she put in without thinking or taking the time to concentrate more or less into it than that.
(Music stops)
In a split second and a flash of yellow light, the girl flew all the way to the moon to sit back against the side of one of its craters, pulling out an ice pack - the ice on the inside made by herself, of course - to put on her cheek, which, as fortune would have it, didn’t have any visible burn marks or injury beyond the sting of the burn that was already on its way to healing. Her breath briefly quickened as she pressed the pack against her skin to soothe the pain that remained. In short order, her respiratory pace slowed as she took deep breaths and calmed herself, trying not to dwell too much on how she narrowly avoided being melted alive and keeping an ear out for when Brandon would come looking for her.
“Once again,” she thought, as any mark on her cheek faded, “Thank goodness I’m not just a human.”
Just as she placed the ice pack back in her pocket, Becky heard a voice echoing through the general vicinity, though without knowing exactly where the sound was coming from.
“You can’t do it,” Brandon said, his voice expressing thinly veiled contempt and aggravation, “can you?”
The girl took a few seconds to ponder what he meant as she floated to the ledge of the crater, hearing the barely audible sound of blood dripping from what she assumed was his nose before her thought process was suddenly interrupted.
“That’s why you can’t beat me,” he continued, “Whether it’s some ‘superhero’ code you have or if you’re just too afraid to do it, you can’t kill me… even when I can kill you. But beyond that…, I’m something greater than any creature on this planet, something you’ve rejected becoming.”
(Cue Revelations - Timothy Williams (0:55 - 1:53))
Appearing seemingly out of nowhere in a blur, eyes glowing with his bloodied mask on to cover his face, Brightburn slammed into Becky to knock her off the ledge. The Lexiconian crashed into one of the curves of the crater before suddenly being pulled by an invisible force back into the air and taking a shoulder tackle to her arm that sent her hurtling all the way into the side of a far off central peak in a much shallower crater elsewhere on the lunar surface.
Laying on her side against the jagged curves of the mountain, the girl struggled to get up as her head and leg seemed to grow more sore and weary. Opening her eyes narrowly in spite of the aching sensation as she put her right hand over her targeted ankle, she could make out the image of Brightburn suddenly appearing a few feet in front of her as he slowly walked closer to lessen the distance between them.
“Give me a word for this, Becky,” he said, “Rhetorical question: what’s a person of extraordinary or superhuman power or achievements?”
Using her left hand to slowly try to get up, she looked toward him as she attempted to give her answer.
“That’s an easy one,” she said, short of breath with strain in her tone, “a noun for that is-”
Becky’s explanation was cut off as the conqueror slammed her against the side of the mountain, his right hand grasping her throat again as she used both of her own to try to pull his arm away.
“I had a feeling you knew,” he said, slowly pulling his left fist back as his eyes glowed bright. Looking her in the eye, Brandon knew that he likely couldn’t afford to botch this chance. No more screw-ups, no more delaying or prolonging, this needed to be finished once and for all. With that thought, the boy uttered in a low tone what he believed would be the last thing his prey would hear before he bashed her head to bits.
“I… am… a superman.”
(Music stops)
Brandon closed his eyes as he thrust his fist forward, a thud accompanying the cracking of rock as a massive shockwave emitted from the impact of his punch as it reverberated throughout a third of the moon’s surface. No longer feeling anything tangible in his grip, the killer took a deep breath and removed his mask with one hand as his body relaxed.
“Finally,” he thought, assuming the punch had obliterated her completely, “It’s over… I’ve won.”
Wiping the blood off his face with his arm, Brandon fell to one knee as his breath began to steady. About a dozen seconds passed before he slightly opened his eyes, now returned to blue, and looked upon the debris brought about by his last attack.
“Well,” he whispered, “You… You were really special. We… understood each other. Never thought I’d say it, but… I’ll miss you… and what we could’ve had…, my equal.”
As he stuffed his mask back in his pocket and his thoughts turned to his rival, Brandon looked closely at the site of her supposed demise, feeling that something was… off. As if it was somehow… too easy.
While the lack of bloody paste could be explained away by, perhaps, him hitting her with enough force to atomize her very being in an instant, not only was he not sure if she was too durable for that to be the case, but there should have theoretically been far more blood on his hand that held her throat.
Come to think of it, he only felt solid rock, rather than soft flesh, make contact with his punch at all. If she had simply broken his grip and dodged it, surely he would have felt it, right? His eyes widened and thoughts raced at the possibility that she had dodged it, only having done it so fast that he didn’t even feel her break his grip or fly away.
“Aw, glad to hear it, that’s flattering of you,” an all too familiar voice echoed from somewhere the boy couldn’t see, in the casual tone his adversary usually had.
Brandon’s eyes shot open as he stood up and looked all around as if he had heard a ghost. The boy internally panicked as his worry that she was indeed capable of that kind of speed was all but confirmed.
“Sorry to keep ya waiting,” she continued, “Had to take a quick timeout and go grab something from Earth. Plus, gotta stay hydrated when you’re breaking a sweat, am I right?”
“No…” he thought, the conqueror’s brow slightly twitched as he stood shaking with renewed fury, “She’s not… not after I almost killed her three times in the last few minutes… she is not seriously going back to making those stupid jokes again.”
(Cue Holding Out for a Hero - Bonnie Tyler (0:00 - 0:32))
“I can’t deny it, Brandon,” she said, “you’ve got plenty of drive and a seemingly boundless will, not to mention your smarts and powers…”
“But let’s be honest,” the girl’s voice hinted at confidence hidden behind her casualty, “when it comes to this, with these stakes, all of that won’t be enough to take on someone like me. Plenty of aliens, though none as ruthless or powerful as you, tried to do it and, well…, I think my battle record speaks for itself.”
Brandon’s fists clenched as he began to levitate off the ground, exasperation and visceral anger growing with every word. Finally, he spoke upon hearing a heartbeat a few dozen feet behind him, his face contorted into an expression of umbrage.
“Who in the hell do you think you are?” he snarled.
Quickly turning around, Brandon flew at top speed as he prepared a right punch to connect with his target’s jaw, assuming she was there. His momentum was suddenly halted as his fist was caught by a gloved hand that now held it in place.
“I told ya already…, ‘BB,’” the hero replied with a smile and a giggle, now donning her helmet she had left on Earth with no trace of blood on her person or damage in her eye area from the ashes thrown at her earlier. The girl’s smile remained as her eyelids opened, irises filled with the same restored passion and determination that permeated her next words as she looked into her adversary’s eyes.
“I’m WordGirl…, and I’m a superhero.”
(Cue Holding Out for a Hero - Bonnie Tyler (0:32 - 2:48))
The Lexiconian reared back her free hand before punching Brandon in the chest hard enough to send him flying back several miles, his crash forming another crater as she could hear the impact from afar.
Out of the dust of the distant impact, a now masked Brightburn rushed back to her position to attempt another hit, only for her to seamlessly sidestep it faster than he could see. Blinking twice, he looked to his left to see her standing there unfazed.
“Care to try again?” she coyly asked to egg him on.
Grumbling in frustration, the conqueror attempted another punch only for her to dodge it with a smile on her face and closed eyes, leaning back like a dancer in the second that seemed like slow motion to her. Having whiffed again, Brandon saw nothing in front of him and turned around to see her, once again, standing there and stifling a chuckle.
“Oh, no,” she said sarcastically, laying the back of her hand on her forehead and making a faux fainting pose, “I’m so helpless, please don’t hit me, Mask-Boy.”
Growling significantly louder in anger, Brightburn used his telekinesis to launch several chunks of rock at her, only for her to fly away from their point of impact and sit on top of a nearby peak. With every attempted physical attack he made, the boy grew more impatient and unfocused as he chased WordGirl all over the moon’s surface without being able to land any hits, both appearing as bright red and yellow streaks respectively from a distant view of the ellipsoid.
After a few moments of this, the golden beam shot down towards Earth, with the red one in unrelenting pursuit.
Laying on her back as she flew backward in mid-air above an ocean and under a clear noon sky with her hands behind her head, Becky smirked as she shifted her head slightly upwards to see her opponent flying towards her as his eyes glowed scarlet.
“Huh,” she said, amused, “thought going back to Earth would’ve helped your accuracy a bit, given your rate here’s way better than on the moon. What’s wrong, ‘superman’? Off your game? We all have one of those days, don’t we?”
Dodging another one of his punches, the heroine could tell that he was expending more and more of his energy every time he tried to lash out in these wild, erratic attacks. Ergo, it became increasingly apparent that with every plateau and landmass his punch crashed into instead as they passed them on their flight across the world, her initial plan of wearing him out and exhausting him was working to perfection.
“I’d bill you for the helmet,” she continued, weaving past any strike that came her way as she rambled, “but I made sure to get damages covered in my contract to be on this episode. I gotta tell ya, I didn't think it was gonna be easy to get another gig after PBS canceled my show, but my agent might as well be a miracle worker. Heck, I wasn’t even handed a script, so I basically got to improv this whole time. Though it was kind of weird they just said to ‘be myself’ and nothing else, not even anything about you… or what the show’s title was…”
The girl raised an eyebrow before looking toward the camera and asking, “What rating is this show, anyway?”
Yelling in fury as everything his enemy said appeared to be complete meaningless gibberish as far as he knew, he tried to focus his telekinesis to keep Becky in place as he charged forward with both fists outstretched, only for her to break free of his mental grip and fly out of view. Missing again, Brandon ended up smashing into the side of a mountain instead.
“Seriously?!?” he thought, pounding his fist into the rock in frustration before returning to his pursuit, frenzied like a ravenous lion chasing a prey that could outrun it.
After catching up to Becky, Brandon rushed forward for another punch just before his opponent dashed underneath him to avoid it.
As he turned around to face her and prepared to charge her again, the girl grabbed the left border of the video screen with both hands to pull a scene transition - the setting in the transition in question being above the forest in Kansas where they fought previously - rightward, repeatedly slamming Brandon’s body against the right edge of the screen as his body was squeezed like a rubber duck between the side of the transition and the border of the video with every time Becky pulled it backward.
After the sixth consecutive slam of the scene transition, WordGirl let it go back behind the left side of the screen before pulling on the right side, grabbing a different screen cutaway - the setting in that one being from the town in the desert - and throwing it leftward to ram into Brandon, briefly squishing him between it and the border.
As the transition was let back behind the right border of the screen and Brandon returned to the center of the current scene in a daze, Becky flew fast enough to appear as a gold streak as she quickly pulled both transitions, one at a time in lightning fast succession, momentarily crushing the boy in the middle between the two scene borders before they receded out of the frame.
Brightburn shook his head to regain his focus as he looked around him, not seeing the girl anywhere.
“The hell did she just hit me with?” he asked himself, confused as he lacked any fourth-wall awareness. Immediately after his last utterance, a yellow light slammed into him, sending him careening into a faraway plain where he crashed into the grass.
Groggily standing back up and pulling off his mask in one hand to see the further tears made in it over the course of the fight, Brandon looked from side to side as he put it back in his pocket, keeping an ear out for any sign of his would-be nemesis. Suddenly, he heard the distinct sound of a road sign being plucked from the ground somewhere off in the distance, though not knowing its source.
“Oh, no, not again,” he said as his glowless blue eyes opened further, realizing what his opponent was doing as he tried to pinpoint where she was going to be coming from.
“She readies for the pitch, going for a homer,” he heard Becky say in the distance, though he was still unsure of where to expect it nor of where she even was right now.
Turning around just in time to see a sign much larger than the one he was hit with prior, - this one saying “Welcome to Fair City” - being swung into his face like a baseball bat, launching him upwards. His screams faded out of earshot as he was sent hurtling into the stratosphere and out of view.
“And he’s outta here!” she said in her best baseball announcer impression.
Placing the sign over her shoulder as she turned her head to the side, the hero stopped herself to say one more thing before resolving to fly back to the city to put it back.
“Who rules home runs now?” she said, smirking as she thought of her brother, “In your face, TJ!”
(Cue Brandon’s Power - Timothy Williams)
At the island where the two had previously revealed themselves to each other, Brandon fell out of the sky as he crashed into the grass near the coastline, tumbling before finally landing on his side, letting out a groan of pain. The sky was reddened as the time slowly approached sunset and the waves calmly moved along the shore.
Stumbling as he barely managed to lift himself off the ground with one hand, the boy tried to maintain a straight posture as his body trembled. Seconds after he had gotten back up, the boy let out a moan of exhaustion as he collapsed to his knees and barely prevented himself from falling on his face as he placed his palms on the ground. Brandon’s eyes stared downward, his expression showing consternation and his body still shaking as he panted. Barely keeping himself from having a panic attack, his breath quickened as he clenched his right hand into a fist.
“Damn it!” he bellowed as he closed his eyes and punched the dirt, cracking it with a loud boom before he opened them again to look down at his hands.
“She can’t be this strong!” he thought to himself, “How is she so agile, so… powerful?!? If she didn’t have powers like mine, she’d mentally just be a fifth-grader in cosplay! How is she beating me?!?”
Brandon’s heart sank and his pupils narrowed as he mulled over those last two words. No…, beating him? That’s impossible. He was the strongest on Earth. He was the one sent here to take the world as his dominion. He couldn’t lose or, as he now considered the possibility, die here.
And yet here he was…, tiring out, short of breath… fighting a spelling bee champion in a spandex astronaut suit! And losing! What if she wasn’t just his equal? What if… what if…
What if she was his superior?
His thoughts continued racing as his mind filled with existential despair, wondering if this was truly how it would all end. All he had done, all he had sacrificed, all he had achieved…, just to lose to… her.
The boy’s emotions turned to simmering fury as his thoughts turned to the one this whole escapade was meant to bring to his side as a sole companion in a world he felt otherwise alienated from.
He didn’t come this far to be another feather in the cap of some… wannabe comic book hero. The boy clenched his fists as he grew more and more disgusted with the idea of failing to realize his destiny and purpose… the idea of being defeated by a slave of the inferior human race…, bested by an obedient lapdog like… Becky Botsford.
In the heat of the moment, the killer didn’t want to even think about her “superhero name,” much less call her by it. In his eyes, she didn’t deserve a name other than what those earthling mongrels gave her. Unlike her, he had shed the old skin of Brandon Breyer to be born anew. He was Brightburn, scourge of all mankind, never to be shackled to the whims of those pests again.
His breath slowed down as his trembling ceased and he crawled slightly forward to grab onto a rock to help himself get up, a new determination forming in his mind. He would not lose. He couldn’t lose. Even as his initial goal of gaining a confidant had gone awry, he still knew that the Lexiconian was the greatest threat to him yet, one that he still had the chance to overcome as long as she didn’t receive outside assistance, which he knew wasn’t coming after he searched her ship for any more robots. All of the information on that ship or in that city, possibly pointing him to other threats to his power, would be his for the taking, so long as he finished the job.
As he finished that thought, he heard the sound of boots gently landing on top of a small hill a good distance behind him followed by the placement of a helmet on said hill.
“It’s over, Brandon,” WordGirl said, arms crossed as she stood still and looked down from the hilltop, her hair and cape flowing in the wind as her helmet laid in the grass next to her.
The boy got on one knee, not turning his head to face her as he kept his eyes closed, focusing his super hearing to confirm something that he hoped would bring him a sense of relief.
(Cue With No Mercy - Secession Studios (1:40 - 2:16))
“Not yet,” he thought in response, his hopes of victory having been restored by what he just found out.
As he suspected, while Becky was good at hiding it underneath her current posture and expression, he could tell that she was feeling the same strain and exhaustion as he was, apparently at the same rate judging by her breathing and heartbeat, no less. Just as he hoped, this means that she wouldn’t be able to simply outlast him and as long as he could keep up with her, he could take the initiative and land the killing blow.
And how, he thought, would he not be able to? As if what he found out about Lexiconians from the ship didn’t tell him enough, he knew that there was a reason that Becky seemed to prioritize talking or wit over combat. She, like her kind, seemed to pride herself on knowledge and intellect above all else to strive toward greatness and achievement, like an Athenian.
But that, he believed, would be her downfall. He, like his kind, was of a greater mold than one that relied on intelligence alone. A physically superior breed by birth. A warrior by blood. A conqueror by might. A predator gifted in the skill of hunting and the art of war. Brightburn decided on his next course of action: to demonstrate pure strength, the kind that places a species at the top of a natural hierarchy…, the power of a Spartan.
Leaning on the large rock and looking downward as he regained his composure, he slowly let go of it as he shifted his head straight.
“If you think those people loved you… so much…” he said, his low tone masking his indignation and bile.
The girl slightly raised her eyebrow, only to lower it and slowly widen her eyes as her counterpart slowly turned toward her. Brandon’s head leaned over his shoulder as his eyes donned a deep crimson light before he finished his sentence with a voice and an expression containing only pure, boiling loathing.
“They can mourn for you.”
(Cue With No Mercy - Secession Studios (2:17 - 3:26))
Faster than the eye could see, the killer flew toward WordGirl, resulting in both trading blows only visible to human sight in blips and shockwaves as ruby and gold flashed across the sky. As the melee continued, they relocated from far above the island, to above mountains, oceans, skylines, and more as they moved from place to place in mere nanoseconds.
The Lexiconian noted what she could tell was a change in her adversary’s attack patterns, as they had become far less unbalanced than they were between their departure from the moon and now. It seemed that, much like her, he too could regain his best fighting form quickly even after a period of losing his temper, returning their combat to a relative equilibrium with neither currently holding the definitive advantage. Perhaps even now they truly were more alike than she’d like to admit.
Both combatants found themselves above the island again, with Becky getting the chance to test out something new just in case. Seeing Brandon charge up a blast of his heat vision, the heroine managed to use her frost breath to quickly form a thick handheld shield in front of her just in time to intercept his attack.
While she could feel the heat of the beams radiating and the pressure of the force behind them given the shield’s relatively small size as her right hand held it in front of her face, she could peer above it to see that despite Brandon’s gradual intensification of the rays’ temperature, the initial outer layers, given that her ice tended to be far more durable than ordinary ice, managed to hold up pretty well before melting.
As long as this was the case, it would likely take some time to melt through every layer, providing a decent protector as it guarded her chest. Not to mention, she could deduce that his heat vision seemed to be his most immediately taxing ability, as his eyes seemed to strain the longer he concentrated energy into the rays.
Halting his blast, the boy battered his opponent’s shield with his shoulder twice to destabilize the front before using outstretching his hand to use as much telekinetic force as he could muster in that moment to push against the ice hard enough to break it to pieces. As Becky’s focus was briefly broken by the ice fragments scattering around her line of vision, Brandon took the opportunity to land two punches, one with each hand, to her face, before levitating backward to prepare his next move.
Momentarily holding his arms out wide with tightened fists as his eyes glowed, the conqueror immediately flew toward his opponent and grabbed her by the collar before reeling back an uppercut that catapulted her upward all the way into orbit.
Above the Earth’s atmosphere, Becky’s momentum finally slowed as she could make out the stars of outer space. Before she could do anything, however, Brightburn, having followed her up, emerged from beneath her, his hands held together above his head before he hammered her with an ax-handle punch, sending her hurtling back to the surface and crashing into the island on her back with the force of a meteor.
Back in space, Brandon looked down upon the planet he was meant to subjugate, taking in all its beauty as he took deep breaths in preparation for what he was about to do as a last resort to finally put this to bed.
“Yychhagaro Larum Ghol.”
His eyes began to flare up as his ship’s message repeated itself in his head, all while he concentrated more and more power into his charging heat vision and his breathing began to quicken.
The boy remembered drawing about doing this in his notebook shortly after he discovered his purpose, though he wasn’t sure if he could muster enough total energy at his best to pull it off for real, let alone if he could release so much power in his current state. Especially since he had never thought he would ever be put in a position where he had little choice but to do this, a part of him felt unsure if it was even worth trying it.
None of that would hinder him now, though. Everything was at stake now, so if this was what it took to win, then so be it. Either his enemy would be caught in the blast or the ensuing destruction, or, if it missed her, the Earth’s crust would be torn asunder as the world is engulfed in apocalyptic flames.
Floating with the sun shining behind him, his bloodied arms outstretched and his eyes glowing as intensely as possible, the conqueror resolved himself, his next action readied. If this attack hit the planet unimpeded, every last vestige of mankind would perish as per the will of its master, its new god. For if he could not have Earth…, no one could.
Quickly lowering his arms to his sides and clenching his fists, Brightburn let out a bestial roar as he aimed towards the planet and his beams released, the rays converging into one concentrated blast of fiery death upon leaving his eyes.
(Cue Who Watches the Heroes - Really Slow Motion (0:00 - 2:00) (2:03 - 2:36))
As the dust cleared from the gargantuan crater left in the center of the island from the crash, Becky groaned as she tried her best to get up. With a crick in her neck that subsided as she turned her head, the girl opened her eyes as she stood back up, her left hand holding the back of her neck.
Looking up as she straightened her posture, the Lexiconian’s super hearing detected the sound of something far off in space that immediately set off her alarm bells, her mouth slightly agape upon her discovery. Becky’s eyes stared toward the sky as she heard Brandon’s scream in the distance and saw a glimpse of a red light that appeared small from this distance, but was slowly picking up momentum as she could tell it was making its way downward, albeit at a relatively drawn out pace due to the distance between the surface and the outer atmosphere.
The sky slowly shifted to a scarlet shade that grew brighter and brighter as the light, reflecting in her narrowing pupils like a twinkle, became more and more visible as it shined like a second sun past the cloud cover.
“No…” she thought, speechless and mortified at the sight and the sheer power that she could only imagine was behind it, “Is he about to blow up the planet?!?”
Becky used her enhanced sight to get a decent look at how thick the converging beam was, confirming her worst fears. She knew she had to think of something, as even if she got out of the way of that blast coming straight for her location, the beam seemed to hold enough energy to shatter landmasses, if not outright tear the Earth’s crust apart if Brightburn holds it long enough.
Was… was this the end of the road? She knew she had fought villains with similar powers before, but none had ever shown the capacity to destroy worlds, let alone the willingness to actually risk or attempt it. Has she finally been outmatched? Was she, and Earth, doomed?
“No!” she thought, a revitalizing determination returning to her expression as she looked up, her cape blowing in the wind behind her with her skin and suit lightly glistening from the lighting.
This was not the end, she resolved. She had never failed to save her city or the world before. Everyone she had ever protected was still living and well. She couldn’t give up now. Not when every life on Earth was at stake. She knew she could best Brandon physically. This had to be an act of desperation if he was putting so much power into one blast. All she had to do was find a way around this situation and he’d probably be on his last legs.
Luckily, she wouldn’t need much time to think about a solution, one of the many perks of supernatural perception speed outside of reading a novel in mere seconds. The world around her appeared as if it were in slow motion as she thought of a way to get something strong enough to prevent that blast from hitting Earth. As the time she had caught a meteor on a crash course with Fair City crossed her mind, the hero had an epiphany.
“Wait,” she thought, a smile coming to her face as she had gotten an idea, “That’s it!” As she prepared to fly elsewhere as rapidly as she could, WordGirl felt more confident than ever in the odds of ensuring Earth’s survival. She’d just need to borrow some things from it first.
Back in space at the edge of the Earth’s exosphere, Brandon kept his focus on increasing his power output as much as his body could handle. Given her apparent human level heat tolerance, this seemed to be his best option despite the aching sensation he started to feel in his head, causing him to grunt in exertion through gritted teeth as his cape blew in the same direction as his sweat drenched hair.
On the surface, Becky stood shaking in both anxiety and anticipation on the tip of the coastline as she held an absolutely titanic mass of soil, rock and other solid earthly materials twice the entire island’s size, held together by layers of meticulously placed thick ice between them that all but fused them to each other from the inside. In addition to the extensive layers of solid earth in this monolith, the entire structure was covered by a layer of ice so thick that it was just as wide as the earthly hodgepodge itself was. Super speed certainly made collecting all of the non-ice materials for it from rocky landscapes around the world and ensuring no lifeforms were accidentally scooped up in the final product far easier.
Her breath quickening, she crouched down to prepare for taking off, saying one thing as her eyes turned upward.
“Like I told you in Kansas…,” she said, her resolute voice pausing briefly to catch her breath, “no matter what it takes… no matter what the bad guy of the week throws at me… no matter what you throw at me… this always ends one way… with them in jail… and me saving the day!”
Launching off the ground as her arms held the side of the makeshift goliath as if holding a teddy bear, WordGirl flew upward, coming closer and closer to the point where her flightpath and the beam’s could intersect. As a precaution to ensure her barrier’s durability, she blew as hard as she could to continuously reinforce the exterior with more and more ice layers, still somewhat unsure if this would be enough to withstand the force of the blast.
At the point separating the stratosphere and the mesosphere, the heroine braced herself as the unstoppable force would meet the immovable object…
A loud thud echoed through the skies as the beam made contact with the front facing side of the structure…, but was not penetrating it as the heat dispersed in sparks of red light.
WordGirl’s eyes lit up as she realized that her plan was working. Even though it could theoretically keep slowly melting through, so long as she could keep reinforcing it, Brandon would eventually peter out! As she kept pushing the landmass against his ray, flying higher and higher away from the planet’s surface, Becky felt even more excited than she had felt during her and Brandon’s spar on the island.
In space, Brightburn felt his beams hit something, though he could tell by the fact that it was pushing against the ray that it had not made contact with the planet's surface. Stress and rage set in as he applied even more pressure into his attack, realizing that his rival managed to somehow start pushing his blast back and, to make matters worse for him, was gradually closing the distance between them.
Brandon stifled a groan of pain as he strained further, his head pounding with every increase in output. The boy’s frustration grew tenfold as he heard an all too familiar voice from below, more giddy and triumphant than it had been all day.
“How’s that, BB?!?” the girl yelled out excitedly, her heart pounding with every breath as she increased in speed every second and could hear her opponent’s panic swelling, “Never thought I could take your best shot, did you?!?”
Hearing this in the distance, Brightburn’s growls of exertion grew louder, desperately trying to break through the barrier as the rays intensified and his face started to turn beet red with fury.
“Can you feel it in the air?!?” she continued, approaching the thermosphere as the rigid structure still held tight, “That sense of finality?!? That’s ‘cause you know this is where your reign of terror and this whole thing ends!”
The conqueror barely kept his teeth clenched as the pounding in his temple became more and more unbearable and he rapidly approached the absolute limit of how much his heat vision could put out, making cracks in the remaining front layers at a quicker pace.
“We put on one heck of a show today, didn’t we?!? And hey, Narrator, Wiz, Boomstick, everyone in the studio that gave me the chance to be here and everyone watching at home, I hope you’re ready for the end of the ride! Whoo!”
Letting out a shout that shook the stars, Brightburn’s body tensed up as much as it possibly could as he released every last drop of energy from his eyes he could muster, knowing that this could very well be the difference between this moment being his ultimate victory or his last stand.
“So without further ado…,” Becky said, keeping her eyes in her enemy’s direction and nearing the edge between the thermosphere and the exosphere as the construct began to crack further, “let’s bring it on hooooooome!”
As the ball of ice and earth came within a few dozen feet of its attacker, a final burst of energy erupted from the killer’s eyes, causing the barrier to break apart into smithereens in a massive explosion. His rays ceasing immediately upon said final burst, he couldn’t yet tell if his adversary had been caught in the blast.
(Music pauses)
Brightburn levitated there observing the debris, his eyes retaining their dimming glow somewhat as his adrenaline rush was the only thing keeping him from collapsing due to what felt like every ounce of his energy being spent. Keeping still while his breaths were shallow and unsteady, the boy’s body twitched in the few seconds he held out hope that he had won.
“Hey, Brandon,…!”
The instant he heard that voice, he turned his head slightly upwards and could barely see, in his now blurred vision, a silhouette amidst the dust just a few feet in front of him and above his position with their body leaning back and their left leg slightly raised as they seemed to be preparing a blow with their right hand held behind their head.
His blood ran cold as a quiet gasp left his lips.
“Wooooord… UP!”
(Cue Who Watches the Heroes - Really Slow Motion (2:38 - 2:49))
Faster than Brandon could comprehend, WordGirl flew directly at him and landed a punch to the side of his head with more force than any other physical blow taken all day. In the split second her gloved fist made contact with the injured portion of the back of his head, a sudden burst of blood sprayed out of it.
Screaming louder than he ever had as he felt the worst physical pain in his life, Brightburn was launched away by the force behind the blow. Hurtling in the direction of the sun, his cry of agony echoed through space before the sound faded and his figure was no longer in view.
(Music stops)
Allowing herself to take deep breaths as she placed her hands on her knees and her head turned downward, the Lexiconian found herself weary from what must have felt like to someone with super speed as if it were an hour’s worth of combat, if not more. A few seconds passed before her breath steadied somewhat and her body slowly relaxed.
Her eyes filled with ecstatic glee as she processed the notion that, if that punch had been sufficient enough to knock him unconscious like she intended, then the most difficult challenge in her life had finally been defeated.
“I…” she muttered to herself, a smile returning to her face as she turned her head slightly upward, “I did it…”
She returned to a standing posture, closing her eyes and raising her fists above her head in both relief and triumph as she took a heavy breath between each sentence.
“I did it!” she jubilantly cheered, her tiredness being the only thing hindering her from bouncing with joy like a jumping bean, “Yes!... I saved the world!... I won!...”
“Woo-hoo!” her voice echoed as she regained a more normal breathing rate.
“It’s finally over!” she continued, “I finally beat-”
Becky stopped her celebration as she narrowly opened her eyes to look forward in the direction she had sent her rival flying in. Her expression turned from joyful to confused, but then to mortified as she realized she seemed to have punched him all the way toward the sun and now couldn’t see a trace of him.
“Brandon?” she softly asked, grave concern filling her tone as she worried about the fate of her counterpart. Flying toward the sun and looking around the general vicinity for any sign of what happened to him, she still found nothing.
“Brandon?” she called out again, louder this time as she now feared the worst, “Brandon?!? Are you there?!?”
As she frantically searched near the sun, a thin red streak rocketing in the direction away from the sun could be made out far off in the distance behind her, albeit barely and too far away to be an extremely noticeable sound that she couldn’t mistake for a comet.
Focusing her super hearing to try to listen for his heartbeat to make sure he was still alive, Becky couldn’t hear any pulse nearby. Rationalizing that he may have flown away to a different location, she refocused her senses to see if there were any heartbeats currently anywhere in the solar system but Earth.
(Cue Torments - Phillipe Gerber)
Meanwhile, far off in the depths of space near the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, a figure floated in place, clenching their hand against the back of their head. Within the darkness far away from the sun, his body appeared as if he were cloaked in shadow, with only the glow of his eyes shining through. Taking long, heavy breaths as his hand was covered in blood, Brandon felt relief that his skull was without damage or fracture, a feeling that was overshadowed by a far more prevalent emotion.
Brightburn, conqueror of worlds, felt bitterly, indisputably humiliated. When he read that paper, he was in pursuit of the finest possible boon, then after those hopes were dashed, he was on the verge of getting rid of the greatest threat to his quest, but now, the focus of both of those endeavors had just nearly bashed his brains in.
Nonetheless, he was still alive and so long as that was the case, he reasoned, he could still fulfill his destiny. He would not yield. He would not relent. He would not surrender.
Looking back up toward his adversary in the distance, Brandon slowly lifted an open hand to his side, concentrating what telekinetic energy he could muster after his brief recovery for one last large-scale attack.
(Music stops)
Still checking for anomalies, WordGirl’s attention was caught as she thought she heard something coming from all the way near Jupiter.
“What sounds like…” she asked in confusion, “a bunch of asteroids being moved at once-”
(Cue Oblivion soundtrack - Vitaliy Zavadskyy)
Turning around quickly as she realized what was occurring, Becky saw a rapidly approaching swarm of asteroids and comets hurtling toward her direction, spread out, but still locking on to her general location as they moved past the moon. Focusing her sight, she could see a battered, bruised and enraged Brightburn, mask still off, flying at the back of the swarm and controlling the projectiles with his mind, as she could tell by his outstretched hand.
“Geez, he’s still going?” she asked in disbelief, though still relieved at his survival despite his glaring stubbornness, “What’s it gonna take for this guy to just give up already?”
Dashing forward in a yellow streak, the heroine resolved to intercept as many of the asteroids as possible as fast as she could in case Brandon tried to redirect them toward Earth to divert her attention and gain an advantage.
Bursting through projectile after projectile while dodging flurries of jagged debris the conqueror attempted to use to temporarily blind her in mid-flight, the girl caught one of the comets, rather than punching it into particles, and threw it toward Brandon. The large icy structure slammed into the boy’s face, shattering the comet to pieces as it sent him reeling backward and slowed the rapidity of the other projectiles’ paths due to his telekinetic focus being broken.
As the last object was destroyed, Becky took two seconds for a breather as her rival recovered himself in the distance. Recuperated, the two rushed toward each other, appearing as streaks of light as they approached a point of intersection between them above Earth.
The two aliens stopped in their tracks as each intercepted an attempted punch from the other, maintaining a tight grip on the wrists of their respective attacking hands. They clenched their eyes shut and grunted in pain as their fists opened from the pressure of the tightening grips, the pain in Brandon’s right wrist adding to the agony he felt in his targeted arm and Becky simultaneously feeling his grip on her right wrist and the telekinetic pressure on her targeted ankle. Both struggled as they were clearly using all the strength they had left to keep going, feeling drained and desperately holding on for dear life in this battle of attrition.
“Why…” Brandon asked with desperate frustration, his red eyes slightly opening as he spoke in a strained voice, “won’t you die?!?”
The boy barely kept his eyes from closing as his opponent opened hers, a golden glow radiating from them as she looked him in the eye and replied, a similar strain in her own voice.
“Because… I have something worth living for!”
In a flash, the hero headbutted Brightburn to break the grapple, sending him a few feet away before they steadied themselves, levitating across from each other and breathing heavily.
Taking the first strike, Brandon exhaustedly landed a right-handed haymaker on his opponent’s cheek. After only three seconds, this was followed by Becky doing the same to him.
Following a few seconds in which the combatants steadied their breaths before looking each other in the eye once more, the two resolved to try and end this melee with a complete all-out assault.
From an orbital view of the planet Earth, one could see a spectacle like no other, streaks of amber and ruby light that shot across the outer edge of the atmosphere like shooting stars running circles around the ellipsoid in every conceivable direction at a speed that not only increased with every second, but made it difficult to decipher when the two neon-like beams repeatedly collided.
(Music stops)
The would-be light show stopped as the two made one final collision in space above the planet’s north pole, the resulting booming shockwave sending both combatants hurtling backward uncontrollably in opposite directions, with the heroine crash landing on her back and forming a large crater on the surface of Venus, and the conqueror doing the same on that of Mars.
As the dust cleared on Venus, WordGirl struggled to get herself moving, far more so than she did when crashing into Earth from orbit due to her ever present fatigue. Getting on her right knee as she placed a hand on the sore ankle on the same appendage, the girl’s breath slowed in pace as she looked up toward the sulfur yellow sky.
Collecting her thoughts, the hero decided that there was little, if any, point left in continuing this battle if they didn’t have to, resolving to make one last appeal to end this without any further senseless violence.
(Cue The Joys and Sorrows of Life - Johannes Bornlof)
“Brandon?” she called out softly, knowing that her counterpart could hear her even all the way from here. After a few seconds of waiting without moving from her position, she finally heard a response with her focused hearing.
“Becky…,” his voice echoed in her mind with a quiet tone that matched the one he had talked to her on the bench with.
On Mars, the boy stood clutching his left arm as he looked forward toward the hazy pinkish-red sky, the scarlet glow in his irises no longer present as they had returned to normal.
“I meant what I said before…,” Becky’s voice reverberated in his ears from afar, “We… we don’t have to do this.”
Back on Venus, the girl’s expression conveyed her distress as she kept herself from trembling due to anxiety, enervation or both.
“I know…,” she pleaded, “I know what you really want… and it has nothing to do with taking over the world or whatever… It’s… why you tried to find me in the first place… I could see it in your eyes. You came looking for someone like you because you don’t feel any genuine connection… or friendship. And despite what you think your purpose is…, you can still have that.”
The boy’s pupils slightly expanded as he continued listening. Briefly peering downward to take his tattered mask out of his pocket to hold in his palm, his gaze momentarily fixated on it before his eyes returned to the sky, an expression barely concealing regret on his face.
“There is still hope for your future,” she said, desperately trying to get through to him, “Saving people has been my job for years, Brandon… Do you really think I can’t help you too?”
Brandon’s breath suddenly, but briefly, halted as his eyes turned forward.
As if she were making eye contact with him again, Becky stared in front of her as she composed herself enough to finish her last attempt at peace.
“Please, Brandon…, I’m begging you… Give up… and you won’t have to be alone or hurt anyone anymore.”
The boy peered down at his mask again, reflecting on both her words and of everything that’s happened so far.
Maybe she was right, he thought. He never thought he’d find himself actually considering surrender as a better option. Even if he were to reject it, doubt started to form in his mind as to whether or not this fight could truly be won given the sheer toll this had taken on them both. Would it be worth it for him to take the chance of a perpetual stalemate, or even outright defeat or death, rather than laying down his arms and trusting her?
For all he knew, she might be in even worse physical shape at the moment than he is, meaning that she may just be saying this to trick him and avoid her own defeat when he’s on the cusp of world domination. Then again, he could hear the emotion in Becky’s voice as she had said all those things. Perhaps, if she was being genuine, there might be a light at the end of the tunnel after all.
Just as he was about to ask if she really meant it, Brandon stopped himself. A part of him wanted to do everything she said right then and there: toss the Brightburn mask away, destroy the ship, learn from her, all of it. He wondered if things could’ve been different had he landed in Fair City as an infant instead of Kansas, or even if they met right when he discovered his powers… But it was far too late for that now.
As far as he was concerned, she was still too naive for her own good, and not just about humanity’s capacity for duplicity as he saw it. She hadn’t seen what he’d done. She didn’t watch him eviscerate Erica Connor as if dissecting a frog in a lab. She didn’t hear Kyle Breyer’s screams as he burned alive. She didn’t witness him drive living things around him mad with fear with his mere presence, tear through flesh like tissue paper, or reduce a man to a bloody paste, if not mere mist. Even if mankind wasn’t as vile as he knew them to be or if she truly believed in him, he had come too far for it all to mean nothing. There was no going back for him.
Gently placing his mask back in his front pocket and closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in before exhaling as he made his choice.
“I told you…,” he said, opening his eyes at the last word with a hint of firmness in his tone, “And I think, deep down, you know it, Becky,…”
Becky’s expression turned to a look of sadness as she heard his voice echoing, ending any hope that he would yield.
“This wasn’t going to end any other way.”
The girl sighed in despair as she realized she had no chance of talking her way out, not this time.
(Cue Discovery - Tybercore)
“Let’s finish this…” Brandon said, drawing her attention back to his words, “You and me. Everything we’ve got. One… last… time.”
Both kids stared forward, Brandon taking a step back to prepare himself for blasting off and Becky doing the same a few seconds afterward. Melancholy coated the hero’s speech as she brought herself to answer the ultimatum, resolved to stop him by any means necessary.
“So be it…,” she said in resignation, “Brightburn.”
The two took off with blinding speed at the same time, entering Earth’s atmosphere as they raced around the planet’s horizontal circumference to build up momentum in opposite directions while staying on opposite sides of the equator, though their paths were intended to slowly inch closer and closer to each other so they’d intersect with as much force as they could muster.
Speeding through the skies with his fists raised in front of him and his eyes closed, the conqueror contemplated everything that had led to this point. His early life among humans, the discovery of his heritage, his first killings, the betrayal of his parents, and every act of destruction and conquest on his path to power over the Earth all flashed in his mind as a mach cone formed around his hands and head.
If all went well, this would be his perfect trap and his rule of this planet would be more secure than ever. Hoping to use this as an opportunity to bait his opponent into exhausting herself by building up momentum, he had decided that in the off chance that physical force couldn’t mortally damage her body, then perhaps his other abilities that have been shown to harm her would. All he’d need to do was wait for the right moment to strike, though he knew he was using up every last bit of power and strength he could exert for whenever that opportunity was coming.
The Lexiconian, on the other hand, felt a similar stress and pressure, both physically and mentally, to her rival, being in the same position with her fists outstretched and eyes clamped shut as she picked up velocity.
In addition to her most prevalent fears for not just her own life, but everyone who could suffer and die if she failed today, she also worried about the possibility that even this wouldn’t be enough to knock Brandon out cold. Worse yet, as her fists began to blueshift, she pondered whether or not she might end up putting too much power behind her strike and seriously injure him or worse.
Despite those fears, she held firm, knowing that every second of her life as a hero, from the day she first donned the suit and cape all those years ago, everything she had learned from Professor Boxleitner, from the captain, and from everything she had gone through, had all led to this moment. This was no time to panic, she reasoned. No matter what happens, her fate, the world’s fate, even the fate of everything depends on the outcome of this battle, a battle from which she could not let someone like him emerge the victor.
As their flight paths drew nearer, the aliens were nearly overwhelmed by how much force they were applying, the strain only growing more intense the closer to each other they got.
Just before their last flight where they knew they would intersect in the sky above the ocean near the very same island they had unmasked on, the two simultaneously let out a last yell of exertion as the culmination point of their struggle approached.
Sensing each other’s presence as the intersection point became visible, the two reeled back their right arms for one more punch.
If one could see it in slow motion, one could make out the combatants positioning themselves as their eyes opened, with the red sky and the island in the background.
Brightburn’s eyes glowed red in preparation for a blast of heat vision as he looked downward ready to release his full power toward that direction.
In contrast, WordGirl approached from a lower position, eyes glowing gold as she held her right arm back for an upward thrust.
It was in this moment, in the blink of an eye, where impossible forces would meet in one final clash once and for all.
(Music ends)
A sickening thud echoed through the skies as Brightburn let out a visceral gurgle, his eyes’ glow fading and his pupils turning to pinpricks as his body suddenly stiffened in shock. Numbed from exerting every ounce of power he had into his attempted attacks, his brain was playing catch up in regards to deciphering what just happened as he saw his now open hand thrusted forward, as well as his other arm outstretched for some reason that didn’t cross his mind at the moment, but no sign of making contact with his target… as if she had moved away at the speed of light.
The boy’s breaths became shallow as feeling started to return to his nerves and he felt an indescribable sharp pain in his chest, realizing in short order that the reason both arms were positioned as if he were falling upward was because he had been pushed backward by something, albeit by inches in terms of distance.
Wondering what force had done this, he got his answer as his wide eyes slowly peered down to where his heart was upon only hearing one pulse… that was not his own.
WordGirl’s right arm had punctured a hole through her rival’s chest and out the other side, her glove caked in a fine, red paste as every bit of flesh in its direct path, including his heart, had been annihilated. Her eyes tightly shut since the moment of the blow, the girl’s body twitched as her free hand was placed firmly near the side of Brandon’s neck to prevent him from turning his head to use his heat vision on her. Due to her body’s similar numbing and her current adrenaline rush, she wasn’t yet fully aware of just how much power and momentum was behind her final attack as the boy, though without moving his head, shifted his eyes to look toward her, stunned.
In this moment, quiet filled the air, as the waves and the breeze were the only sources of sound to be heard.
The still tranquility was broken as Becky let go of Brandon and instinctively pulled her arm back out of the puncture, the sound of ripped tissue subsiding quickly as she flew back several feet, her eyes still closed as she floated in a standing position above the water directly across from her still levitating counterpart.
The boy looked down to his left hand and gently placed it over the hole where his heart used to be, blood smearing both the front and back of it.
Her body tension relieving and her panting for air returning to a steady breathing rate, Becky opened her eyes, now returned to normal, to look at his own, her adrenaline rush fading and her right arm still closed in a fist beside her. In a moment noticed by her adversary, her expression turned from an initial confusion on seeing him focus on his chest, to worry as she saw the crimson liquid, and then to a soft gasp of mortified realization as she looked at her glove that dripped blood from all sides.
He slowly redirected his head straight to stare the Lexiconian right in the eye, not with an expression of dread, rage or contempt, but simply of disbelief. The boy stood still with his other hand at his side as if his body itself had not yet processed the damage done to it amidst going into shock, all while the girl returned his gaze with a look of abject horror.
The two levitated there as their eyes glistened in the red light of the setting sun and their capes gently drifted with the breeze, unmoving and stunned in such a silence that one could hear a pin drop.
(Cue Viva La Vida - Henry Moodie (0:00 - 1:28), (2:08 - 2:39), (2:40 - 2:55))
As Brandon slowly tried to reach out his free hand, his body gently fell over backward, sending him into a free fall with his back toward the water. Time seemed to almost slow down for him as he continued drifting downward, his thoughts in disarray as he was faced with his imminent fate.
There was no denying it. Whether his efforts were worth it, whether taking Becky’s offer would have been preferable, whether he was ever able to win this fight at all, none of it mattered now.
He was dying. This was the end. The end of his conquest, the end of the road, but most of all, the end of a life catapulted from normalcy amongst humans to a brutal reckoning with his purpose by birth followed by a chain of events that had ultimately brought him here. That remorseful part of him that wanted to listen to the girl took brief center stage of his mind, filling him with regret over how his relationship with the mother who raised him had gone so wrong, how he had given in to his base urges at his ship’s prompting, and how his ceaseless rampage of wanton destruction to fulfill his duty to his species had done nothing but worsen his pain and misery, not to mention others’ as well.
His fall was suddenly interrupted as Becky swept him out of the air and carried him to the island, holding him in her arms as she kneeled on the grass and silently struggled to internalize the fact that there was nothing she could do to prevent the inevitable.
“S-s-stay with me, Brandon,” she barely managed to get the words out, shaking as she continued and lying to herself as much as to him, “Y-y-you’re gonna be okay, alright? I-I-I can… I…”
As her stammering slowed and Brandon’s senses began to fade, despite their fight to the death, the boy reminisced about the good times he had with her, including those that he experienced right here. Their initial friendly chats before and after unmasking themselves, their tree duel, the cat-and-mouse game with their metallic weaknesses…, hell, even those stupid robots were kinda funny looking and made great punching bags. Teaming up on her metal clone was certainly something he’d cherish.
And of course, his mind dwelled on where finding that newspaper had led him, Fair City. Just two awkward brainiacs sharing cookies and having a good time cheering each other up on a bench, all beneath a beautiful early evening sky not unlike the one he saw past her face right now. And now, much like where it all began, he just got here…, and he thought it’d be a good place to sit down and watch the sunset.
His vision refocused on the scared face looking down at his own, the face of his slayer…, the face he now looked upon without feelings of resentment or disdain…, but with awe and wonder.
The boy’s gaze remained fixed on her as he watched her locks ebb and flow with the wind, the twinkle in her eye catching his attention as it reminded him of that naivete he had held in contempt… and envy. Seeing her skin glisten brilliantly in the light, part of him wanted to reassure her that it was over now, to say the truth that, as he looked on the bright side of his end, he felt a sense of freedom despite her wasted attempts at sparing him.
No more suffering, no more death, no more messages from his ship interrupting his sleep. As he saw it, all of it was gone for him at this moment. And all thanks to her, his shining guardian angel, his hero as he thought she might prefer, who saved him from a further existence of continuous torment and lamentation in a world where he wasn’t even sure there were any lifeforms of his kind in all the cosmos, let alone if they cared about him or his mission. While it wasn’t exactly a celebratory occasion, he could at least focus on the positives for once.
As his vision began to blur and he felt himself slipping into a sleep he would never wake from, the once all-powerful superman slightly smiled at the one he considered his former prospect… and, as short lived as it would be, his one true friend. His tone expressed gratitude for all the youthful memories they shared today as he used the last of his energy to speak, letting the very name Brightburn fade away as his glassy eyes stared into hers.
(Cue Viva La Vida - Henry Moodie (2:55 - 3:05))
“Thank you…,” he whispered gently, “Word… Girl.”
And so, Brandon Breyer slowly closed his eyes, finding the solace in death that he had long lost in life.
(Cue Shelter - Dash Berlin ft. Roxanne Emery)
Her left hand having held the back of the boy’s neck just low enough for his head to feel the grass and her right hand placed close to his wound, the girl’s heart sank as she felt his form go limp with no sign of life remaining.
After a few seconds of silence with her eyes still firmly fixed on his face, Becky tried to nudge him with a single slight shake.
“Brandon?” she whispered, getting no response, of course. She nudged again, harder this time.
“W-wake up…” she whimpered, stuttering as she remained in denial, getting no response again.
“Wake up!” she cried with a trembling voice as she shook hardest a single time, tears welling up in her eyes as she was on the verge of utterly breaking down.
The girl’s body stiffened again, her breath sharpening as she let the obvious sink in. He was dead.
Gently placing his body on the grass while retaining the same horrified expression as when she first saw his wound, she stood back up and stumbled backward as her thoughts began racing.
Staring at the covered hole in his chest with gradually quickening breaths, she slowly descended into an internal panic attack the more she focused on the blood drenching his shirt and the ground beneath him.
She killed him, she thought, her denial mechanisms failing as she stared down at her bloodied gloves. She killed him. But she didn’t kill. And yet, there he was. The peaceful, lifeless corpse of someone young enough to be her classmate, of someone who was more alike to her than just about anyone else in the universe, of someone she once thought could be either her greatest nemesis or even, back when they met on the bench, her friend. And worse yet, it was done by her own hand.
The child’s legs quivered as she looked around her as if lost and searching for her mother. Yet another thought rapidly crossed her mind, the possibility that she could slip up in the future, dreading the extent of her power and the idea of accidentally killing again.
There that word was again, she thought. Killing. Did this happen to him when he killed for the first time? Did he take life by accident at first? Was she going to end up like him after all?
Overwhelmed by the flurry of a thousand stressful thoughts occurring simultaneously, she collapsed on her knees a few feet away from him, unmoving and tensing up as she stared at the grisly sight, shaking all the while.
Her adrenaline completely gone as all her repressed physical pain from the fight was fully felt all at once in tandem with her mental breakdown, the girl let out a haunting, echoing primal scream of anguish as tears poured from her eyes.
Sniffling as she looked down at her clenched fists again for what felt to her like an eternity, she tried her absolute hardest not to cry, desperately trying to hold it together as one phrase branded itself into her mind.
“What have I done?!?”
Becky choked up as her super hearing picked up the sound of someone slowly walking toward her location, having ignored the earlier sound of an oar rowing and a raft floating nearby in the heat of the moment.
Jerking her head to the side to look at the sound’s source, her relief was overshadowed by her guilt and terror.
Her sidekick, the captain, stopped in his tracks as he looked at the body, then back at her, empathy conveyed in his expression despite his simian features. He plainly recognized the trauma behind her eyes as not too different from what many of his colleagues in the Lexiconian Air Force had either experienced or were trained to deal with: he could tell she had gone to war tonight.
“I-” she stammered, barely keeping herself together, “I didn’t mean to-”
The captain softly interjected, telling her in his language that he already knew what happened, that he was just glad that she was still alive, that he was sorry that she had to go through something like this with no preparation and at such a young age, and most emphatically, that everything was going to be okay.
As Huggy held out a paw to gesture to her to come to him, the girl ran toward him, falling to her knees again as she hugged him tighter than she had ever embraced anyone in her life.
Gently held in her fellow Lexiconian’s arms, she buried her face into his left shoulder as she began to sob uncontrollably, melting down from a combination of the palpable fear of her own strength, the aches, pain and soreness throughout her entire being, and the lamentation over, for the first time in her entire life, failing to save someone.
With his left paw to the back of her hair and his right placed on her back, the captain’s eyes returned to the remains of the boy, having a pretty good idea of what he had done and was capable of based on the feed and information he got from the monitors on the ship before the robots’ destruction.
While not outwardly showing it, he looked down on the corpse with a sense of relief, knowing that that demonic monster couldn’t hurt her anymore.
(Fade to black, end scene)
Conclusion[]
(Cue If Everyone Cared - Nickelback)
Wiz: Oh, thank god, she lived! (whispers) I’m sorry for making you do this, little one…
Boomstick: We’re gonna have to foot a hefty counseling bill for that kid’s therapy, aren’t we?... Wait a minute, how?!? How did the space wordsmith beat serial killer Superman?!?
Wiz: (clearing his throat and regaining his composure) Right, right, let’s break this down first by getting the obvious part out, Brightburn is not Superman, and neither is WordGirl. While they’re at least loosely based on him, our assessment of their capabilities can only come from what they themselves have either been shown or stated to be able to do in their own worlds. That said, this matchup was surprisingly complex as the two combatants varied from category to category in who had a leg up over the other despite their similar powersets.
Boomstick: For starters, strictly in terms of their approach to a fight and their super smarts, these kids were pretty much dead even and had plenty of options to prevent an easy victory from each other. Brandon could use his stealth mastery to gain an early initiative in a fight, but given Becky’s enhanced senses like super hearing, there isn’t much of a chance of him avoiding detection for long enough to get a good killshot in straight away. Not to mention, his senses would let him detect her the same way, so especially given their superhuman stamina, this was never gonna end in a quick first strike no matter how good their strategies were.
Wiz: Furthermore, both of them had a definitive edge in applicable experience. WordGirl’s extensive history of combat experience with a variety of foes handedly eclipsed him in that category, given he has only ever targeted regular humans and has never been in a real fight.
Boomstick: On the other hand, Brandon had way more experience in, well, you know, killing, and had honed his craft extensively, unlike her, who had never used lethal force in her life. That combined with his knowledge of anatomy would likely mean that he’d know how to exploit any potential weak points on Becky’s body if given the chance, since it’s pretty much identical to a humanoid besides the whole “alien superpowers and durability” part. So WordGirl takes fight smarts, but Brightburn takes lethality smarts.
Wiz: However, in this case, the former’s are likely more useful, as given Becky’s experiences in fighting villains with powers similar to hers, like Rhyme and Miss Power, the latter of whom possessed heat vision similar to Brandon’s, she was overall better suited for a blow for blow contest with someone of a similar caliber. Further, it’s also possible that Brandon’s far more easily triggered temper could be used to her advantage in that his form could become sloppier if he was angered enough, or panicked enough given the unfamiliar scenario, thus potentially leaving an opening in his defenses for her to exploit.
Boomstick: Yeah, this was pretty much uncharted territory for Super-slasher over here, but that in and of itself didn’t guarantee him taking an L given everything in his arsenal, especially as he has plenty of counters to some of the weapons Becky’s got. Frost breath freezes him? He can just break out of it like Miss Power did, especially since his heat vision is even more potent than hers has been shown to be. Tries to whip out any of those robots, rays and gizmos from her souvenir gallery on her ship to turn him to goop, cheese or whatever? He can just turn them off without even having to move and render them completely useless against him. Hell, even WordBot or some of the stuff specifically designed to fight someone on a Lexiconian’s level and could pose a threat to Brandon have pretty much zero defenses against him since he can become pretty much a living EMP device with a thought.
Wiz: Not only that, Brandon’s non-physical abilities also gave him an advantage, since his telekinesis is just as physically strong as he is physically and could theoretically be used to temporarily hold Becky in place or target a weak point for him to opportunistically get a fatal hit in. Her helmet would protect her from his psychic fear amplifying powers…, until he either disables it with his technopathy or damages it enough for it to stop working, thus leaving her vulnerable as she has been shown to have only a low degree of natural resistance against psychic attacks such as mind control in the past from enemies like Ms. Question.
Boomstick: Durability seems to lean in his favor, too, as while Becky is somewhat of a glass cannon as she’s been implied to be legitimately harmed by things that dish out way less than she herself does, Brandon’s body pretty much tanks anything on Earth that’s thrown at him without even a sign of internal or external damage.
Wiz: Brandon’s internal physiology should also be just as durable as his skin, given that the impact of the shotgun bullet to the back of his head probably would have given him a concussion, skull and brain damage, or even outright death due to compression waves if his bones and organs were only as durable as a normal human’s. However, this does not mean that he is physically invincible.
Boomstick: Considering that he does appear to feel impacts like that blast and stuff like falling on concrete head-first, even though it doesn’t damage him in any way, would imply that a strong enough physical force could damage or even kill him.
Wiz: Luckily for WordGirl, she has exactly that, given that she is the physically stronger of the two. While Brandon could easily level buildings by just flying through them, Becky’s raw strength has been shown to be capable of destroying the moon over a hundred times over. Therefore, in a physical contest, she would have more than enough power to overwhelm him or, better yet, even outright kill him in one good punch. His telekinetic grip wouldn’t be of much help either, considering it’s only as strong as he is physically, so she could likely power through that as well and close the distance between them to keep getting hits in to wear him down.
Boomstick: But while he wouldn’t be able to physically best her, Brightburn did have more ranged options if he’s able to keep his distance like his telekinesis and his heat vision, especially as she pretty much has no lethal ranged options in this scenario whatsoever, since she can’t just freeze him to death or something. Though, that sonic scream of hers could break his concentration and fuck his eardrums up pretty badly if not outright rupture them, so that option’s on the table. While it’s not confirmed that Brandon can breathe in space like she can, he has been shown to be able to breathe outside the troposphere before like when he flew to the stratosphere and it wouldn’t make much sense for a guy to be able to fly into orbit and fire a Death Star laser at the Earth if he couldn’t live without oxygen.
Wiz: Most significantly, Becky being affected by hot temperatures the same way as regular humans left her particularly vulnerable to Brandon’s heat vision as a heat wave is basically nothing compared to a concentrated plasma blast that could burn through steel. If he got one good hit in with that, she would more than likely die in brutal fashion.
Boomstick: And if there’s a good chance she’s not surviving his heat vision at its default setting, she’s probably not gonna be able to withstand a full power planet-busting blast worth 53 quadrillion megatons if he manages to pull that off, given that that has an attack power 10.5 times greater than the force she dished out when she threw those robots into the sun.
Wiz: At the end of the day, regardless of their stamina or endurance, which is likely at least on par with each other due to their physiology, both combatants had a surefire means to kill the other. This means that what this matchup ultimately comes down to is who can land a killing blow first. And wouldn’t you know it…, WordGirl takes speed in spades.
(Cue It’s Not Over - Daughtry)
Boomstick: Obviously, Brandon being able to blitz people in an instant would make him faster than the eye can see and reaching the stratosphere in the time he did would put him in at least just below Mach 3 territory at 2,301 miles per hour at bare lowball, but depending on how far high up he actually got, this would only put him in the higher hypersonic range at highball, even if he was ten times faster than that. This is where it starts to not look so good for him, as even though he could kill WordGirl if given the opportunity, chances are that opportunity wasn’t going to come before hers. Remember those times Becky did laps around the Earth or when she flew from the moon to the sun?
Wiz: For the first example, dividing the total distance in miles she flew, that being the circumference of the Earth measured around the equator, by the time it took her to do so in each lap, being two seconds, WordGirl must have been flying at just over 44 thousand miles per hour with every lap. As for the second example, the upper limits of her movement, processing, and reaction speeds are much, much greater than that. In order to fly from the moon to the sun in less than two seconds, she would have to be flying at around 347 times the speed of light.
Boomstick: (coughs after spitting out his beer upon seeing the last number) Ho-holy shit! Yup, she’s definitely gettin’ the first kill opportunity. You know what? You sold me on these super nerds. Note to self: Lexiconians are badass.
Wiz: Brightburn was able to put forward the cunning and killer instinct in line with his predatory nature along with the tenacity, combat prowess and raw power making him worthy of being called a true Superman, but WordGirl’s superior strength, speed, fighting experience and keen wit gave her enough to save her home and ensure the world-taker’s flame burned bright no more.
Boomstick: In the end, you could say Becky got the last word, ‘cause Brandon got bright-burned.
Wiz: The winner is Becky Botsford, WordGirl.
Stats[]
WordGirl
- Physically stronger
- Greater physical speed and likely greater processing speed
- Years of combat experience, including against those with powers like her own and Brightburn’s
- Greater versatility
- Resistance to psychic attacks
- Sonic scream could disorient, severely damage or even deafen Brightburn
- Less durable
- Less lethal ranged options
- Souvenir arsenal and possibly even helmet-related resistances likely rendered useless by technopathy in most scenarios despite versatility advantage
- Could be mortally damaged by Brightburn’s heat vision
Brightburn
- More durable
- More experience in killing
- Telekinesis and more lethal ranged options
- Potentially could exploit physical weak points thanks to knowledge of anatomy
- Can use technopathy to nullify the souvenir arsenal
- Heat vision would be hot and/or powerful enough to kill WordGirl
- Physically weaker
- Slower physical speed and likely slower processing speed
- No combat experience against opponents like himself or WordGirl
- Telekinesis too weak to hold WordGirl off for long
Track Name[]
The track for this fight would likely be called “Final Words.”
The title references both WordGirl’s specialty with words and Brightburn’s victims’ words often being their final ones upon encountering him. It also refers to the nature of their conflict being one to the death for the fate of Earth, as one will leave alive and the other will have said their final words.
The track cover consists of the shield and star of Lexicon with Brightburn’s sigil burned onto the star and blood splattered on its bottom-right corner. The shield also has WordGirl’s helmet hanging from its top left-hand edge while Brightburn’s mask hangs from the opposite top edge. In the background behind the shield, a beam of arctic wind is present on its left-hand side, while a thick red beam of heat vision would be coming from the right-hand side. Reaching toward the small shield from the top left-hand corner of the cover is WordGirl’s gloved hand, while reaching from the bottom right-hand corner is Brightburn’s hand covered in dripping blood. Above the shield, in the background, WordGirl’s glowing yellow eye with a shining star pattern in it is faintly visible on the left-hand side, while on the right side, Brightburn’s glowing red eye can be faintly made out.
The track would likely be purely instrumental, incorporating both characters’ motifs at certain points (I liked instrumentals better anyway and IMO, a vocal track would not work for this matchup at all).
Trivia[]
- The connections between WordGirl and Brightburn include:
- Both are red-clad superpowered extraterrestrial children with their origins of being aliens from another planet who crashed on Earth in spacecraft as infants being based on the origin story of Superman.
- Both have similar physical power sets (super strength, speed, durability, etc.)
- Both have superhuman intelligence and are noted as geniuses in their own right for their age.
- Both are weak to a metal native to their home planet (Lexonite and the metal from Brandon’s ship).
- Both become better at using their powers through means tied to their extraterrestrial heritage, or at least are implied to (WordGirl is implied to become more powerful the more knowledge about diction she gets; Brightburn was likely taught to harness his power by his ship).
- Both have inflated egos in relation to their powers and relationships with humans (WordGirl believes her word knowledge separates her from “mere mortals” while Brightburn believes himself to have come from “something superior” to humans and is implied by his drawings to have a god complex), albeit to wildly differing degrees (Becky views her position as one of responsibility for protecting humanity while Brandon views his position as one of an apex predator that needs to conquer Earth and subjugate humans to assert superiority).
- Both, in their human identities, are usually anxious and awkward to a degree.
- Both have shown the capacity for mass destruction if angered (Becky went on TV to threaten her rogues gallery if they interrupted her R&R by twisting a metal bar like a pretzel and, on a separate occasion, easily dismantled several of Tobey’s robots with far less effort than usual when she lost her patience; Brandon has severely injured, maimed, and murdered people in various sadistic ways for upsetting him (e.g. Erica Connor)).
- Joke Connection: Strangely enough, both have some connection to soccer (Becky has played on a soccer team while Brandon is implied to have played it recreationally (though this was only stated as an excuse for where he was on the night of Noah McNichol’s murder and it’s unconfirmed if he actually plays)).
- Joke Connection: Same initials for their human identities (B.B.)
- The contrasts between WordGirl and Brightburn include:
- While WordGirl has grown to love humans and wishes to protect them as a superhero, Brightburn grew to hate humans and wishes to conquer and ravage the planet in accordance with his ship’s directive.
- While WordGirl believes in a philosophy of setting an example for humans to follow so that they can coexist in peace with each other and with aliens like her, Brightburn believes in a Darwinist survival-of-the-fittest philosophy of asserting his kind’s dominance over species deemed inferior or on a lower peg of the food chain (e.g. humans).
- Whereas WordGirl was taught how to use her powers and become a superhero by a human, Dr. Steven Boxleitner, Brightburn was instructed for his mission by his ship, as his powers were activated along with his telepathic link to it.
- WordGirl’s species, the Lexiconians, are implied (partially by the “Super Advanced Secret Battle Moves of the Planet Lexicon” book she has) to be a people mostly specializing in communication, wit and intelligence rather than relying on physical force for conflict resolution, whereas Brightburn’s species are implied to be conquerors best suited for war and domination.
- WordGirl has frost breath, while Brightburn has heat vision.
- WordGirl arrived on Earth by accident, while Brightburn was deliberately sent to Earth to conquer it.
- Becky has successfully made human friends in her civilian life, while Brandon always appeared withdrawn and kept to himself even before he discovered his powers.
- Becky was raised in a city, while Brandon was raised in a small rural town.
- While WordGirl and her source material are aimed toward a young audience, Brightburn’s horror film is aimed at a mature demographic.
- The battle would most likely be in pixel-art, with some hand-drawn moments (if this matchup was ever gonna be official, that is. For this script, in my head, I imagined the fight being wholly in a Western 2D animation style similar to the 2003 Teen Titans series (because nostalgia) so I could best visualize what I wanted to write down, but that’s just me).
- This is the most wanted episode of DarthStrangelove.
Previews (+ other links)[]
Preview #1 (WordGirl Words Up on DEATH BATTLE!)
Preview #2 (Brightburn Takes the World on DEATH BATTLE!)
Credits[]
Thumbnails[]
TN #1
- WordGirl: Word Girl Remake by SilentCartoonist on DeviantArt
- Brightburn: Brightburn Poster - Movieposters.com
- Death Battle thumbnail template: Death Battle Template Red by Bluelightning733 on DeviantArt
- Edited in Pixlr by: DarthStrangelove
TN #2 (w/ & w/o text)
- WordGirl: Great dilemma of life by Takaneru on DeviantArt
- Brightburn: Brightburn by Salny Setyadi - Home of the Alternative Movie Poster -AMP- (alternativemovieposters.com)
- Death Battle thumbnail template: Death Battle Template Red by Bluelightning733 on DeviantArt
- Edited in Pixlr by: DarthStrangelove
TN #3 (w/ & w/o text)
- WordGirl: Becky by Silentyeller on DeviantArt
- Brightburn: BrightBurn Movie Poster Entry by Nydearith on DeviantArt
- Death Battle thumbnail template: Death Battle Template Red by Bluelightning733 on DeviantArt
- Edited in Pixlr by: DarthStrangelove
TN #4 (Old)
- WordGirl: Its4inthemorning by NuggNugget on DeviantArt
- Brightburn: Adam Stephens - Artwork (needworkwilldraw.com)
- Death Battle thumbnail template: Death Battle Fanon Wiki
- Edited in Pixlr by: DarthStrangelove
Classic Intros (Image credits)[]
WordGirl: Living Dictionary by NuggNugget on DeviantArt
Brightburn: Brightburn I by PiloKmil on DeviantArt
Powers Analysis (Image credits)[]
WordGirl: Image featured in the WordGirl 15th Anniversary Zine (Word Up!: The Wordgirl 15th Anniversary Zine (@WordUpZine) / X (twitter.com))
Brightburn: Brightburn (battle form) by a54321 on DeviantArt
Feats (Image credit)[]
Brightburn: Poster by Ardijon Dorantes ArtStation - Brightburn Movie
Interlude[]
WordGirl: Image featured in the WordGirl 15th Anniversary Zine: (Word Up!: The Wordgirl 15th Anniversary Zine (@WordUpZine) / X (twitter.com))
Brightburn: Brightburn by InvdrScar on DeviantArt
Fight Prelude[]
Separate Photo Credits (in order of appearance):
- https://www.deviantart.com/dragonstorm676/art/Brandon-Breyer-Brightburn-cartoon-798080242
- https://www.deviantart.com/vederick/art/Word-Up-202133964
- https://www.deviantart.com/porusanopisyal/art/BrightBurn-795600019
Conclusion[]
WordGirl image credit: space by NuggNugget on DeviantArt
Other[]
Original Calc Sources[]
Source for WG Meteor Calc: User blog:Zamasu Chan/Word Girl catches a meteor | VS Battles Wiki | Fandom
Source for WG Robot Throwing Calc: CornerCornDog on r/DeathBattleMatchups
Source for the total TNT amount to destroy Earth: Goku vs Superman (2013) The Original Classic
Intro, Analysis, Interlude and Winner Templates: Death Battle Fanon Wiki
Special Thanks[]
- To _Pixel_Bit_ on r/DeathBattleMatchups for both my indirect introduction to the matchup and for the title for this fight.
- To KyleCalibur15 for inspiring this script.
- To the creators of Death Battle for ten years of bringing matchups to life.
- To the VS community I’ve delved into since Animal Face-Off was still on the air, for staying fun and awesome.
- To you. Yes, you, whoever’s reading this, for coming along with me for the ride. May the Force be with you, always.