There wasnât a thing Ira loved more than kicking bad guys in the nuts. Superman called it crass, but that man wouldnât know fun if it tried to hit him in the head with a cinder block. Which it currently was, if âfunâ looked like one of three villains who had, up until the Super-duoâs arrival, been fighting each other for an obscure reason.
Ira had placed his bet on hostage situation gone wrong. The three had been working together but ended up disagreeing, giving time for the aforementioned hostage to take cover â which worked out great for Ira who had been put on rescue duty.
One punch caught one of the bad guys square in the chin, sending him flying against the wall. The Superboy waited a second to see if the villain was attempting to get back up, only to turn around with a shrug when the guyâs head rolled on his shoulder. Knocked out cold, perfect. A quick glance at Superman showed Kryptonâs last son had the other two men handled, and so Ira scanned the extra large, extra dusty warehouse (could villains learn to innovate? Please?) for the innocent soul to save.
It was hands on his hips, smug grin on his lips, sunglasses covering his eyes that Ira, in full Superboy costume (t-shirt printed with the House of El logo, tattered jeans and a leather jacket), called out to the human-shaped silhouette crouched by a small jungle of growing vines: âNo worries, dude, Supes and older Supes here to save the day, youâre saâ oh? ⌠Aurel?â
The warehouse Aurel had found himself just earlier in the night tied to a chair in wasnât physically on fire but it certainly felt that way to the nature inclined boy. His only thoughts were get out and run as far away as he physically manage, then a plane ride, a train, or whatever would get him off the coast and in a totally new place where no one knew his father, his brother or him.Â
When the man who tied him to the chair in the first place began monologuing at him, Aurel couldnât believe it. He did live in a world with vigilantes and super powered humans and maybe he was one himself but his family wasnât involved in that sort of thing. Why else would he and his brother be specifically instructed to never reveal their own gifts? After seeing his father and twin arrive, every bit as imposing as they were in their business meetings, Aurel was hard pressed to believe the truth. At least it gave him time to breathe and get out of the mediocre binds on his hands and feet.Â
Warehouse sometimes had the unfortunate architectural feature of high narrow windows. Why couldnât this one look more similar to his own converted warehouse loft apartment with scores of natural light? Hearing more crashing behind him, Aurel tried to stop focusing on the woes of the cities many architects and focus on the crop of plants he was willing to grow larger. It wasnât easy with the patch of weeds that had found itâs way under the brick wall of the building, but it was starting to look like a way out. Only problem was his complete inability to focus and shaking hands, well shaking everything. It wasnât like he had trained for this. The most he did with his powers now a days was help his own plant kids grow. A voice broke him out of his sad attempts at coxing the weed to grow big and strong and Aurel turned to look at who could possible be talking to him at a time like this. Standing there was the boy he had just met up with at the other day. The boy he had been texting before all of this insanity had started. âIra? What are you- we have to get out of here!â He didnât take in the get up, the strange sunglasses at night, or the words spoken to him prior to his name. âItâs not safe!â