The Kryptonian: Reborn in Marvel as Bruce Wayne

The wind whipped against me as I soared high above New York City, the skyline glittering below like a sea of stars. Flying was exhilarating—more than I ever imagined. Even after months of testing and calibrating my Kryptonian abilities, the sheer freedom of it was something no simulation or training could replicate.

"Status report," I said, the comms system in my suit automatically connecting me to the Fortress.

"Sir, the police radio has reported a disturbance on 34th and 7th. A stolen vehicle pursuit," Alfred's voice replied.

Richard chimed in, his voice carrying an edge of excitement. "I'm tracking their path. They're heading toward Madison Square Park—seems like amateur hour. You'll intercept them in three minutes if you push it."

"Copy that," I said, tilting forward and picking up speed.

Eleanor's voice joined in. "Bruce, remember: subtlety. You're here to make a statement, not destroy half the city."

"Relax," I said with a smirk. "Subtlety is my middle name."

The roar of an engine tearing down the street drew my attention. A black sedan weaved recklessly through traffic, tires squealing as the driver ran a red light. I spotted two NYPD cruisers in pursuit, their sirens blaring.

"Time to make a first impression," I muttered.

Descending like a shadow, I landed directly in the car's path, planting my feet firmly on the asphalt. The driver had just enough time to scream before the car collided with me—well, with my unyielding frame. The impact crumpled the hood like paper, the vehicle screeching to a halt as smoke billowed from the engine.

I didn't budge an inch.

The driver stumbled out, clutching his arm and cursing. His partner in the passenger seat wasn't far behind, pulling a gun.

"Really?" I said, raising an eyebrow behind my helmet. "Guns? Against me? That's adorable."

The man fired, the bullets sparking harmlessly against my suit before clattering to the ground. I crossed my arms and tilted my head. "Are you done yet?"

The cops caught up moments later, skidding to a stop. I stepped aside, gesturing to the would-be criminals. "They're all yours, officers."

"Who—who are you?" one of the officers stammered, his wide eyes darting between me and the ruined car.

I gave them a casual two-finger salute. "Superman."

The night unfolded with a series of smaller acts of heroism. Rescuing a kitten stuck in a tree. Helping an elderly woman carry her groceries across a busy street. Stopping a purse snatcher with a single flick of my wrist to trip him up.

Each interaction brought a mix of curiosity and awe. The whispers followed me wherever I went:

"Did you see him?"

"Who is that guy?"

"He called himself Superman!"

Later, Alfred's voice crackled in my ear. "Sir, there's a bank robbery in progress on 5th Avenue and 48th. Hostages reported."

"On it," I said, rocketing toward the location.

The bank's glass doors were shattered, and a group of masked robbers was inside, shouting at terrified hostages. They brandished automatic rifles, pacing nervously as they stuffed duffel bags full of cash.

I landed just outside the entrance, my cape billowing behind me. One of the robbers noticed and froze.

"Who the hell is that?" he yelled, alerting the others.

I strolled in, hands at my sides. "Hi, folks. Nice masks. Let me guess: DIY bank robbers? Because it's giving amateur hour."

"Get out of here, freak!" one of them screamed, raising his weapon.

I sighed. "Do we have to do this the hard way?"

They opened fire. The bullets ricocheted harmlessly off me, shattering windows and leaving dents in the walls. I moved faster than their eyes could follow, disarming them one by one and crushing their weapons like soda cans.

By the time the cops arrived, the hostages were safe, and the robbers were tied up neatly in their own ropes, sitting on the bank floor like chastised schoolkids.

An officer approached me cautiously. "You... Superman, right?"

"That's what I go by," I said, my tone light.

He glanced at the subdued robbers, then back at me. "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime," I replied, taking to the skies again.

Back at the Fortress, Richard was practically vibrating with excitement. "Dude, you're already a legend. Social media is blowing up with sightings. New Yorks Superhero—who'd have thought?"

Eleanor was more reserved. "You handled yourself well tonight, but don't let it go to your head. You're still new at this, kid."

"I know," I said, smiling.

<------------------->

The night air was crisp as I hovered high above the city, the lights of New York stretching out endlessly beneath me. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned my phone from its compartment in my suit. Might as well catch up on the news.

Scrolling through social media was oddly satisfying; the hashtag #SupermanNYC was trending. Videos of me stopping the bank robbery, helping civilians, and even saving that kitten were already racking up millions of views. I smirked. At least the PR was off to a good start.

My moment of peace was interrupted by the distant wail of sirens. Glancing down, I saw plumes of thick black smoke rising against the skyline. A fire.

"Alfred, get me details," I said, slipping the phone back into its compartment.

"Already on it, Master Wayne," Alfred's voice chimed in my ear. "Fire reported at an apartment complex on East 12th. Emergency services are struggling to contain the blaze. Initial reports suggest there are still people trapped inside."

"Got it," I said, shifting position midair. Then, with a burst of speed, I broke the sound barrier, the sonic boom echoing faintly behind me as I raced toward the inferno.

The scene was chaotic. Fire trucks lined the street, their lights painting the surrounding buildings red and blue. Firefighters sprayed powerful streams of water into the roaring flames, but the fire had already engulfed most of the upper floors. The heat was oppressive, even from a distance.

I landed smoothly near the fire chief, who didn't seem to notice me at first. "Chief!" I called out, my voice cutting through the cacophony of sirens and crackling flames.

He turned, startled, his face soot-streaked and tired. "You're... Superman, right?"

"That's me. What's the situation?"

The chief hesitated for a moment before answering, clearly skeptical but desperate. "We've got people trapped on the top floor. The stairs collapsed, and the fire's spread too far for us to get in. We're doing everything we can, but..."

"Say no more," I interrupted, taking off toward the building before he could object.

I smashed through a third-story window, flames licking at the edges of my suit. The smoke was dense and suffocating, but my Kryptonian physiology made it a minor annoyance. My X-ray vision activated, scanning the building until I located the heat signatures of three people huddled together in a corner on the top floor.

"Hang on!" I called, flying upward through the debris and fire until I reached them.

The family—a mother clutching her two children—stared at me in shock. "It's okay," I said gently. "I'm here to get you out."

One by one, I lifted them into my arms, the mother barely having time to protest before I shot back out of the building and landed safely in the street. Paramedics rushed to them, taking over immediately.

The fire chief approached me again, shouting over the noise. "There's no one else in there, but the fire's getting worse. We're worried about the structural integrity of the building—it could collapse at any moment!"

"Noted," I said, floating into the air. "Clear the area."

The firefighters hesitated, but at the chief's barked orders, they backed away. Hovering just above the burning building, I took a deep breath—a really deep breath—and unleashed a powerful gust of super breath.

The flames hissed and sputtered, shrinking rapidly under the force of the icy wind. Within moments, the fire was reduced to embers, and the danger of collapse had passed.

I landed briefly to check with the chief. "The structure's stable now. Your team can handle the rest."

The man stared at me, then extended a soot-covered hand. "Thanks. I don't know what we'd have done without you."

I shook his hand, nodding. "Just doing my job."

The flight home was quiet, the adrenaline from the night finally fading as exhaustion set in. I touched down softly in the gardens of Wayne Manor, slipping through my open window and into my room.

The suit dematerialized, retreating back into its containment within my body, leaving me in comfortable sweats. I barely made it to the bed before collapsing face-first onto the plush mattress.

"Being a hero," I mumbled into the pillow, "is so much more exhausting than it looks."