Jon Kent: Made Of Steel(Superboy Self Insert)

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(General P.O.V)

-Metropolis – Midtown Bank-

It was chaos outside the Midtown Bank. Alarms were blaring, police sirens screamed, and people ran in every direction.

Jon—or 'Dagger', as he was calling himself while in his Villain persona—burst through the front doors like he was the star of a one-man Broadway show.

He was dressed in a ridiculous white tuxedo, a bulging sack of stolen cash over his shoulder, and a diamond-tipped cane twirling in his hand.

Gone was his handsome face, right then he was as average as they came. Anyone that knew him would pass him on the street without a word.

"Just because you caught Cloak doesn't mean you'll catch me!" he yelled, laughing like he'd already won.

From within the bank, Superman walked out moments later, dragging Raven—'Cloak'—by the arm. She didn't struggle.

She just gave him her usual death glare while wearing her hood low enough to hide her expression.

Superman handed her off to Powerboy who had 'just' arrived outside. "Power dampenerd are active. Watch her."

Powerboy smirked. "She doesn't look like much of a threat."

"She's more dangerous than she looks," Superman replied, already turning his attention to the streets where Jon was sprinting away.

"No worries, I've got this," Powerboy said confidently.

Superman didn't even respond. He shot off after Dagger, a streak of red and blue disappearing down the street.

Dagger was making a scene—on purpose.

He weaved through pedestrians, vaulted over stands with bursts of light from his heels all while laughing loudly and twirling his cane like he was auditioning for Dancing with the Villains.

"Y'all bozos'll never catch the Dagger!" he dramatically cackled in a Boston accent, drawing even more attention to himself.

Up ahead, a line of police cars screeched to a halt, blocking the street. Officers jumped out, guns aimed.

"Freeze Freak!" one of them yelled.

Dagger stopped, looking around for an escape route. Finding none, he grinned. "Ah, gentlemen in blue, welcome to the show!"

He raised his cane and slammed it down on the pavement. A blinding flash of light erupted, causing half the officers to stagger back, shielding their eyes.

Dagger tried to dart around them, but before he could make it far, Superman appeared right in front of him, arms crossed.

The Light Manipulating Villain skidded to a stop, his grin faltering for half a second.

"Ah-ha! the main act has arrived!" he said, recovering quickly. "But I'm afraid the show's over for you, old sport! Move along now..."

Superman didn't even blink.

"Pretty please?"

Getting no answer, The Dagger raised his cane and pointed it, firing another burst of light from the end point.

It hit Superman square in the chest and did absolutely nothing.

"Let's not make this harder than it needs to be," Superman said, stepping forward.

Dagger sighed, tossing the cane to the side. "Well, every great act has to end, I suppose."

-0-

(Outside Midtown Bank)

Superman dropped Dagger unceremoniously onto the steps in front of the bank, Power Dampeners on him.

"Caught him," he said flatly.

Dagger sat up, brushing imaginary dust off his tuxedo. "You didn't have to be so rough, you know. I'm an artist! I demand you treat me like one!"

Powerboy rolled his eyes. "You've got a lot of nerve for someone who just got busted."

Dagger grinned, glancing at Raven beside him. "Ah, what you call nerve is only brilliance in action. You won this round heroes! But next time Cloak and Dagger will have the final laugh! Won't we, darling?"

Cloak said nothing, but the corners of her mouth twitched, like she was trying not to smile.

"Get them loaded up. A.R.G.U.S will take it from there." Superman said, gesturing to the waiting transport van and the metahuman affairs agents waiting around it.

Powerboy hauled Dagger to his feet. "Let's go, Houdini. Your disappearing act's over."

They let themselves be shoved into the van.

Dagger's grin turned warm as Powerboy whispered something too low for anyone else to hear.

The grin faded slightly once the doors closed behind them. He glanced at Cloak, who sat silently beside him.

("Ready Jon?") she asked telepathically, her voice steady and calm.

Dagger nodded. ("Let's do this. And Raven, thanks for agreeing to this. I can't think of a better person to go to prison with.")

("Next time, maybe take me out on a normal date and we'll be even.") Raven quietly said, slightly surprising Jon.

("It's a promise.") Jon replied, a genuine smile on his face.

(Jon's P.O.V)

The transport van rattled to a stop at Belle Reve, its towering gates looming over us like a final judgment.

The oppressive atmosphere hit immediately— charged with tension and dread.

The doors opened, and we were marched out in a single file.

Raven and I weren't alone; five other prisoners had arrived with us. Among them were a few familiar faces—ones I'd seen in the League's database.

Atomic Skull, with his glowing, radioactive cranium, radiated heat even through the power dampeners.

King Shark, a massive humanoid shark, sniffed the air like he was already sizing up his next meal.

And then there was Floyd Lawton aka Deadshot, infamous marksman-self claimed best in the world, whose sharp glare could cut glass.

It was like an appetizer for me before the main course. I was already studying their bodies and building a mental profile of their powers/specialties.

Deadshot caught me looking at him and frowned. "What're you staring at, kid?"

I raised my hands, offering a sheepish grin. "Didn't mean to offend. As an artist, I'm a slave to inspiration. Can't help but study those I deem… special."

He blinked, clearly not expecting that answer, then muttered something under his breath and turned away.

It wasn't a lie, despite being the most human of us all, Deadshot was truly unique.

I could see the acute precision of his vision. The optic nerves in his eyes were so fine-tuned they could process details others would miss. It made sense that he could hit a target at impossible ranges.

I split my awareness into multiple streams of observation as we were led in. The main focus was on Belle Reve.

The guards were armed to the teeth with advanced weaponry, their energy rifles humming faintly.

And below us came a constant vibration that pressed on my Kryptonian powers like an invisible weight.

We were taken through a long series of checkpoints—each more fortified than the last—before being marched into the processing area.

The walls were bare steel, the floor slick and reflective, and the overhead lights buzzed faintly.

The guards wasted no time. Each prisoner was hosed down, shoved into a line, our cuffs exchanged for collars and handed an orange jumpsuit.

By the time we were dressed, the air was thick with the metallic tang of disinfectant.

They lined us up in a large chamber for orientation.

Above us, on a raised platform, stood Amanda Waller, flanked by armed guards and a blonde haired pretty doctor jotting notes on a clipboard.

Her badge said Dr. Harleen Quinzel.

The future Harley Quinn was working for Waller? Strange.

Waller didn't bother with pleasantries. She launched straight into her speech.

"This is not a rehabilitation center," she began, voice was cold and commanding. "This is a waiting list for a death sentence. Escape is impossible. Court appeals are nonexistent. Presidential pardons do not apply. For as long as you live, your lives are mine. You are here because you've been rejected by society due to your freakishness. And if you so much as step out of line, I will make sure you regret it."

Her words hung heavy with the promise of punishment in case of disobedience.

She was about to walk off when I raised my hand. "Uh, isn't this the part where you ask if we have any questions?"

The room went completely silent and I could feel Raven glaring at me from the side.

Waller turned slowly, fixing me with a gaze that made me feel like an insect under a magnifying glass.

Dr. Quinzel looked up from her clipboard. "That's Dagger, a light manipulator caught trying to rob a bank."

"It's 'Cloak and Dagger'," I corrected, gesturing to Raven. "Don't leave out my partner. Very rude of you Harleen."

Raven sighed audibly, smacking her forehead with her palm while the blonde psychiatrist regarded me like a teacher dealing with a troublesome student. Something told me I was going to enjoy annoying her.

Behind me, Atomic Skull muttered, "This guy's an idiot."

"Wrong!" I shot back with a grin of confidence. "The real idiots are those who fail to recognize brilliance!"

Waller's dead stare didn't waver at my antics. "Questions? Sure Mr. Dagger. Ask away."

I tapped the dampening collar around my neck. "Yeah. Why do we still have these on when the entire prison has a dampening field generator? Kind of redundant, don't you think?"

The vibration from below was caused by it.

Deadshot groaned, and Atomic Skull cursed under his breath.

Waller finally allowed her emotions to show as she smiled—a nasty, thin-lipped smile. "For this."

She tapped her phone's screen. Instantly, the collars on our necks activated, sending a sharp, crackling jolt of electricity through every prisoner in the room.

Most of the others crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain. But not Raven and me.

I stood perfectly still, observing the sensations the jolt stimulated across my body.

"The voltage is just below the maximum a human body can endure," I said casually, regarding Waller with disapproval. "You're skating dangerously close to what's legally acceptable, madame Warden."

Waller's smile faded, replaced with a cold stare. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

"That sounds terrifying." I pretended to tremble as the guards shoved us out of the chamber, marching us toward the cell blocks.

Raven was led away to the women's wing, her hood still pulled low over her face.

Before she disappeared from sight, she spoke to me telepathically. ("You sure it was smart to antagonize her like that?")

("Getting her attention was the point,") I replied. ("She'll send guards to check our collars soon for why the didn't work on us. That's your cue to get in their heads.")

For context, the Power Dampeners only worked on Biological or physical abilities. Raven's dark magic came from her soul, something the collars couldn't detect. That's how she was able to withstand the collar's stun, while I simply muted my pain receptors with Oneness.

("Right,") Raven hummed in thought. ("And then I'll use the crystal pendant to scan the abilities of everyone in the women's wing and send the info to you.")

I smiled faintly, glad that I remembered to get the Crystal Pendant back from Dad. It's functions would be useful to us.("You got it. Be careful.")

Her presence in my mind faded into a quiet hum. The mind link was still there, only deactivated.

The men's wing was just as I'd expected: a fortress within a fortress.

The cells weren't made of traditional bars but reinforced glass, each one designed to hold a specific kind of threat.

Cameras dotted the walls, and guards patrolled constantly, their weapons always at the ready.

As we passed through the corridor, the other prisoners jeered and shouted, excited to see "fresh meat."

I ignored the threats and insults, though inwardly I couldn't help but feel a little giddy.

The whole purpose of coming here was to study powers—and boy oh boy, there were plenty of interesting ones on display.

The faint electromagnetic charge of one inmate who likely had lightning powers, the almost imperceptible shifts in air pressure from another that likely had some sort of sound power- Oneness wasn't perfect at range when interpreting insights but one fact remained:-

This place was a treasure trove.

Eventually, we stopped at my cell and I was roughly pushed in.

My new roommate was already inside—an ice manipulator known as Icicle Jr.

He looked up as I entered, his frosty breath visible in the cool air.

"Great," he muttered. "Another idiot."

To be fair, I had made Dagger to be as different from Jon as possible. And as I was basically exceptionally awesome, that meant Dagger was unexceptionally bland. Hence, I didn't take the dismissal or rudeness personally. In fact it was the perfect situation.

I smirked. "Nice to meet you too. Name's Dagger."

"Don't care. Upper bunk is yours. And don't talk to me." Icicle replied coldly.

"Alright."

I ignored him and got set up.

A few minutes later, I sat cross legged on my bed, and turned my attention inward in a semi-meditative state while going over everything I'd learned about Belle Reve.

This place wasn't just a prison—it was a stage.

The layout was divided into three sections: the women's wing on the left, the men's wing on the right, and a subterranean level below for non-human and supernatural threats. Atomic Skull had been taken there, flipping me off as he was shoved into an elevator.

But I suspected there was another layer beneath that too—an underground facility for A.R.G.U.S. and Task Force X operations.

That was what I needed to find if Belle Reve was going to become my playing field.

For now, though, I'd focus on the powers research.

I'd given myself two weeks to awaken the seeds of Potential. That meant basic manipulation of Psionics and Chi while also advancing light magic to the next level.

'Think of this as a training montage.' Was my reasoning.

I glanced down at Icicle Jr., noting the faint chill in the air and the frost creeping along the edges of his bunk. He'd be my first target.