The dust settled. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burned gunpowder. The only sounds were the distant murmurs of the surviving immigrants and the faint hum of Joseph's energy field fading away.
His stomach turned as he surveyed the damage. The dead lay motionless, their lives stolen in a conflict they had no part in. He clenched his fists. He had been too slow. He had taken too long with Americommando when he should have been here.
His mother had no documents and had managed to sneak in to the U.S. Imagining one of those bodies as his mothers made his stomach churn.
Sirens echoed in the distance. Helicopter rotors cut through the night sky. The government forces had arrived.
Black-clad tactical teams poured in, securing the area, tending to the wounded, and rounding up the unconscious Minutemen. They moved with the efficiency of professionals, their voices calm and coordinated. A high-ranking officer approached Joseph but kept his distance, reading the situation before speaking.
"We'll take it from here, son."
Joseph barely registered the words. His gaze remained locked on the fallen. He had power. He should have been fast enough. Strong enough.
A shadow loomed beside him. Captain Atom.
Joseph exhaled sharply. "You're late."
Atom glanced around, taking in the damage, the casualties. His face was unreadable, but his tone was steady. "Looks like you had your hands full."
Joseph didn't respond. He didn't trust his voice right now.
Captain Atom placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "You did what you could."
Joseph shook his head. "It wasn't enough."
Captain Atom sighed. "It never feels like it is. But you saved lives tonight. A lot more than you lost."
Joseph let out a bitter chuckle. "That supposed to make me feel better?"
"No. It's just the truth."
The two stood there for a moment, watching as the government forces secured the site. The battle was over. But the weight of it would linger.
**
From that moment on, the nightmares returned. Not every night, but often enough to remind Joseph of the past he couldn't erase. He saw the arena again—the faces of those he had been forced to kill. Then the bodies of the immigrants, lifeless and cold. He could still hear the gunfire, still feel the weight of his choices pressing down on him like an anchor.
Days later, he was assigned to patrol Chicago alongside Captain Atom.
The city wasn't exactly unfamiliar to the Justice League—it had been Hawkman's territory for years. But according to Captain Atom, tensions between the Thanagarians and the Gordanians had escalated off-world, forcing Hawkman and Hawkwoman to leave indefinitely. With their absence, Chicago needed new protectors, and the responsibility fell to Captain Atom and, by extension, Joseph.
Chicago had always been one of the most crime-ridden cities in the U.S., and it felt like it. There was no shortage of work, no downtime. Every day, it seemed like another robbery, another gang shootout, another desperate act of violence that needed to be stopped.
Thankfully, Bell Studios was running smoothly without needing his constant direct oversight, allowing him to focus on the growing challenges of the city.
One of those challenges was Carla Viti.
She wasn't just another crime boss—she was the head of a powerful criminal organization, one that rivaled the Falcone family's influence. When word spread that Hawkman had left the city, crime surged. Gangs were emboldened, believing there was a power vacuum to fill. But what they hadn't expected was Nova—efficient, relentless, and now supervised by a seasoned Justice League powerhouse.
Under Captain Atom's watchful eye, Joseph made sure no criminal element gained a foothold. He had an advantage—most of the criminals were just humans, armed with guns at best. A localized anti-gravity field was all it took to render bullets useless. He could snatch them from the air mid-flight, redirect them, or simply let them fall harmlessly to the ground. Once disarmed, he would subdue them the old-fashioned way—fast, precise, and brutal when necessary. No casualties. No second chances.
But for all the crime-fighting, he still needed time to breathe.
On weekends, he would occasionally hang out with Kori. She was busy too, throwing herself fully into the path of heroism under Wonder Woman's guidance. Washington D.C. had essentially become her new home, and she had already gained quite the following online.
Joseph had seen some of the fan pages dedicated to her—videos of her saving civilians, interviews where she radiated warmth and kindness. She was becoming loved by the public.
And then there was the other side of the internet.
The questionable artwork.
Joseph sighed every time he came across one of those posts. He made a mental note to track down those responsible. Not in a violent way, of course. Just… a peaceful suggestion to delete everything and never draw her like that again.
Unlike Kori, he had no interest in interacting with the public.
He wanted to help people, but more than that, he had a bigger goal—Intergang. Leviathan. Finding and taking them down alone was impossible, especially without AI Nova's full assistance. The League provided him with resources, and he needed those resources.
So he would stay patient and wait for now.