Bubble Boy

The wind howled like a living thing, shrieking across the frozen peaks of Kazakhstan's mountains. Snow slashed sideways through the air, blanketing the jagged cliffs in white. Amid the storm, a single sleek ship cut through the sky like a whisper, cloaked in silence, descending into a narrow valley lost to time.

Starman stepped out first.

The cold hit him like a wall, biting, brutal, indifferent. He didn't flinch. Not this time. He had walked through worse. But something in his chest fluttered, not fear, exactly. Dread, maybe. A quiet understanding that the path ahead would change him in ways he couldn't undo.

Jace followed close behind, his jacket too light for the weather, boots crunching over ice. "Come on," he said, his voice barely audible over the storm. "He's expecting us."

Together, they approached what looked like nothing more than a massive rock formation jutting from the snow. But as Jace pressed his palm to the stone, a ripple of golden light passed through it and then the mountain opened.

Heat rushed out like a sigh. A long corridor lit with eerie red light stretched beyond, descending deeper into the earth. They entered.

At the end of the tunnel stood a laboratory, alien in architecture, humming with power. Tables of surgical tools. Vats of glowing green liquid. Holograms projected DNA strands spiraling midair. Every surface pulsed with life.

And at the center of it all stood Dr. Vladimir.

In nothing but tight, leopard-print underwear and slippers.

Steam rose from the cup of tea he held delicately in one hand as he sipped, utterly unfazed by the cold or the company. His eyes, wild, brilliant, and deeply unhinged, sparkled behind thick goggles.

"Well, well," he said, smacking his lips. "The infamous Starman. Back again. You look taller in the murder videos."

Starman didn't react.

Jace sighed. "Doc…"

Vladimir took another sip. "I'm just saying! You didn't tell me you were bringing me a Xyphorite. Especially the one who broke my daughter."

Starman raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

Jace stepped forward, more serious now. "That's what you are, Starman. Not just a man. Not just a hero. A living fragment of a dying star species. Dravus was one of them."

Starman's jaw tensed at the name.

Jace nodded grimly. "Dravus wasn't even a soldier. He was a scout. One. And he nearly ended everything. He tore through cities, crushed armies, turned legends into dust. He was the warning shot."

Starman's fists clenched.

"Now imagine soldiers. Generals. Imagine a hundred Dravuses. A thousand. They're coming. And Earth has no one left strong enough to stand in their way." He paused. "No one except you."

Starman looked between them. "And how do you expect me to stop them?"

Vladimir set his tea down and cracked his knuckles. "By breaking you into pieces and re-forging you as a god."

Silence followed.

"You won't like it," Jace added. "It's going to hurt. A lot. You might not survive."

"Understatement," Vladimir said gleefully. "I'm going to rip every cell apart and rebuild them from the inside out. Your blood will boil. Your nerves will catch fire. Your bones will be powder. And if we're lucky... we'll put you back together again. Better. Stronger. Divine."

Starman hesitated. He looked down at his hands, once so sure. Now shaking.

"I... I don't know," he said quietly. "What if I fail? What if I die in there and it's all for nothing?"

Jace didn't speak.

Instead, Starman closed his eyes.

He thought of his sons, Troy and Eidolon. Laughing in a park.

He thought of the family at the statue. Of the mother's quiet voice: "Greater."

He thought of the little boy cleaning his name while the world threw rotten food.

When he opened his eyes again, they were clear. Focused.

"Do it."

Vladimir squealed with excitement. "Yes! Oh, I've waited years for this!"

Robotic arms descended from the ceiling. The table snapped open. Machinery whirred to life, emitting a low, thrumming energy that shook the ground itself.

Starman lay down without being told.

Jace stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to be who you were. You get to choose what kind of god you'll be."

Starman nodded once. "Then I'll be one that saves them."

The machine closed.

And then came the screams.

They echoed through the icy mountains like thunder, raw, jagged, terrible. Flesh burning. Bones breaking. Lights flashing red and green and blue. Vladimir laughed maniacally. The lab shook with power as the transformation began.

But beneath it all, behind the cries of pain and the sound of breaking cells...

His eyes remained open.

Burning.

Determined.

Filled with something new.

Hope.

One Week Later

The hiss of decompressing gas echoed softly through the lab.

A pod slid open with a slow, wet sound. Steam spilled out in curling waves. Inside, Starman stirred.

He stepped forward.

His skin was marked with glowing scars, runes burned into his body by energy no human science could replicate. His muscles rippled with latent power, every movement sharp, precise. Even his breath seemed to hum with force. His eyes… they weren't just gold anymore. They were stars.

Jace stood nearby, arms crossed, silent.

"You survived," he said quietly.

Starman nodded. His voice was hoarse but strong. "Barely."

"You're not the same."

"No," Starman said. "I'm not."

They didn't speak again until they were aboard the ship, cutting through the sky like a blade. Jace took them beyond the atmosphere, past the moon, into the nothing between worlds.

Out there, among the void and silence, he turned to Starman.

"Show me."

Starman didn't hesitate.

He launched.

A sonic boom cracked space itself. He flew faster than light, bending time around him. Moons trembled as he passed. He punched a meteor the size of Jupiter and turned it to dust. He grabbed a dead planet's crust and flung it toward a distant sun like a discus.

Then he hovered, breathing calm, eyes wild with new power. He looked at his hands. At the stars that responded to his will. At the strength thrumming beneath every inch of his skin.

Jace floated beside him, watching.

A slow smile crept across his face.

"You're ready," he said. "You're not just a weapon anymore."

"No," Starman replied, the cosmos reflected in his eyes. "I'm their guardian now."

And deep in the cold of space, for the first time in a long time…

Starman smiled too.