DC: Becoming Supreme With Technology ( I Beat Superman)

Ethan's consciousness flickered awake, his entire body aching as he lay sprawled on a vast expanse of white. His scarab armor was partially retracted, exposing him to the icy wind. His breath came in shallow gasps, the cold biting into his skin.

Helios, the AI embedded in his armor, chimed in weakly:

"Ethan... wake up. You've been unconscious for approximately six hours. Your vitals are stable but declining due to exposure."

Ethan groaned, forcing himself to sit up. Snow clung to the remains of his armor, and the swirling winds made it almost impossible to see far. He looked around, disoriented by the endless snowfield stretching in every direction.

"Helios, where are we?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Unknown universe. This location appears to be the equivalent of Earth's South Pole. Atmospheric composition is 98% similar to Earth's, but local energy signatures and dimensional coordinates do not match our home universe."

Ethan clenched his fists, frustration mounting. The crash had left him battered and disoriented, and the realization that he was in another universe entirely sent a chill down his spine—not just from the cold.

"Damage report," he demanded.

"Suit integrity at 27%. Energy reserves critically low. Void energy contamination detected in residual systems. Scarab functionality reduced—current state insufficient for full armor deployment. Echo Box unreachable; interdimensional link severed. Powers derived from Shazam's magic are unavailable."

Ethan ran a hand through his snow-damp hair, the weight of the situation settling in. Without his scarab at full power, he was vulnerable. Without the Echo Box, he was cut off from the power that had made him a god.

"Damn it," he muttered. His body ached, but he checked himself for injuries. Aside from some bruises and minor frostbite starting to set in, he was relatively intact. That was the only good news.

He stood, the biting cold cutting through the tattered remnants of his armor. He was exposed in an unforgiving environment, and time was against him.

"Helios, what's the plan?"

"Priority: find shelter and recharge scarab energy reserves. Without power, survival is unlikely. I recommend heading in a straight line toward the northwest, where I am detecting faint electromagnetic activity. It may indicate human or technological presence."

Ethan turned his face against the wind, squinting through the blizzard. He couldn't see anything resembling civilization, but he trusted Helios' judgment.

"Alright. Let's move."

Ethan trudged through the snowfield, each step a battle against the howling winds and numbing cold. His breath came in white puffs, and his body was quickly reaching its limits.

"Helios, talk to me," he said, partly to distract himself from the cold. "What kind of energy are we detecting?"

"It is faint, but the pattern suggests a power source—possibly geothermal or artificially generated. The range is approximately 30 kilometers. However, at your current pace, it will take approximately eight hours to reach."

Ethan cursed under his breath. Eight hours in this weather was an eternity. But he didn't have a choice.

After an hour of walking, he stumbled and fell face-first into the snow. He pushed himself up with a groan, his strength waning.

"Warning: Core body temperature dropping. Risk of hypothermia increasing."

"I know, Helios. Just keep me updated," Ethan muttered, forcing himself to stand.

Hours later, Ethan's legs were numb, and his vision blurred. Just as he was about to collapse, Helios chimed in with a faint note of urgency.

"We are nearing the energy source. It is buried beneath the ice, approximately 300 meters ahead."

Ethan squinted, and through the blizzard, he saw a faint glimmer—a pulsating blue light emanating from beneath the snow. He stumbled toward it, falling to his knees as he reached the source.

"Helios, scan it," he said, his voice barely audible.

"Analysis complete. The energy appears to be from an advanced power cell of unknown origin. It is emitting heat and electricity—sufficient to recharge the scarab."

Ethan clawed at the ice with his hands, desperation giving him strength. After several minutes, he uncovered a small, cylindrical device embedded in the frozen ground. The device glowed faintly, its light pulsing rhythmically.

"Helios, link the scarab to it," Ethan ordered.

The scarab responded, extending a damaged tendril toward the device. Sparks flew as the connection was made, and Ethan felt a jolt of warmth as power flowed into his suit.

"Energy reserves stabilizing. Estimated recharge: 25%. Enough for basic functionality and survival systems."

Ethan exhaled in relief. He was far from full strength, but it was a start.

With his systems partially restored, Ethan activated his suit's HUD and scanned the area more thoroughly.

"Helios, any signs of nearby structures or settlements?"

"Detecting faint signs of structural integrity approximately 12 kilometers north. Likely a research station or outpost."

Ethan pushed himself up, the warmth from his recharging suit giving him the strength to continue. He adjusted his direction and began walking again, determination burning in his chest.

Ethan stumbled through the snow toward the faint glow of light in the distance. As he got closer, the shapes of several tents came into view, illuminated by the soft, flickering light of a campfire. The hum of a generator broke through the silence, a sound that filled Ethan with a sense of cautious hope.

A group of people, bundled in heavy winter gear, noticed him approaching and stood up, some reaching for weapons out of instinct. Ethan raised his hands to show he wasn't a threat.

"I'm not here to harm anyone," he said, his voice hoarse from the cold. "Just... need some help."

A middle-aged man, clearly the leader, stepped forward. "Come closer, but slowly," he said. His voice was firm, but not unkind.

Ethan complied, and as he got nearer, the man's expression softened. "You're half-frozen, kid. Get him by the fire," the leader ordered.

Ethan sat close to the fire, feeling warmth seep back into his frozen limbs. One of the crew handed him a bowl of hot stew, which he devoured gratefully. As he ate, he studied the group. They were a mix of scientists, engineers, and what looked like security personnel.

"Thank you," Ethan said, his voice steadier now. "I owe you my life."

The leader, a distinguished older man with a commanding presence, introduced himself. "Peter Weyland, founder and chairman of Weyland Corporation. And you are?"

"Ethan Harper," he replied, cautiously choosing his words. "Just... someone trying to survive out here."

Weyland raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "What are you doing all the way out here? This is one of the most remote and inhospitable places on Earth."

Ethan hesitated. "Got lost during an experiment. Equipment malfunctioned, and I ended up stranded. I'm just lucky to have found you."

Weyland nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Well, you're in good hands now. We're here on an important mission, exploring ruins that could rewrite humanity's understanding of our origins."

Ethan's heart sank at Weyland's words. He pieced the details together: the cold, the advanced corporation, and the ruins of an alien civilization. It all clicked.

This isn't just any universe. This is that universe. Weyland Corporation... xenomorphs, facehuggers, the Alien Queen... I'm in the Alien timeline.

Ethan's thoughts raced as he realized the gravity of his situation. The very existence of the xenomorph species posed an existential threat, and now he was stuck in a world teetering on the edge of discovering them.

Weyland noticed Ethan's pensive expression and mistook it for curiosity. "You seem like someone with a sharp mind. We could use someone like you on the team."

"What exactly are you exploring?" Ethan asked, masking his concern.

Weyland's eyes gleamed with ambition. "A ruin buried beneath the ice. We believe it to be evidence of an ancient alien civilization that predates humanity by thousands of years. If our theories are correct, this could prove that we were not alone in our creation."

Ethan nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. "I'll help you," he said after a moment. "But I need something in return."

Weyland raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"Do you have a reserve power source? My equipment is damaged and running low. I need to recharge it."

Weyland smiled faintly. "We have a generator with more than enough fuel. Consider it yours—for now."

Ethan followed one of the engineers to the generator, a bulky machine humming steadily near the edge of the camp. He wasted no time examining it, his mind already working through how to integrate it with his scarab's systems.

Helios chimed in softly: "Energy output is sufficient to recharge the scarab's core systems. Jury-rigging this device will restore approximately 85% functionality."

"Good," Ethan muttered, pulling out tools from his suit.

The process took over an hour as he carefully rewired the generator, ensuring compatibility with the scarab's advanced energy matrix. Sparks flew as he connected the final circuit, and the scarab came to life, its tendrils glowing faintly as it absorbed power.

"Recharge initiated. Estimated time to full power: two hours."

Ethan leaned against the generator, finally allowing himself a moment of relief. He wasn't out of danger yet, but with his scarab recharged, he'd at least have a fighting chance.

As the generator hummed and the scarab's systems restored themselves, Ethan glanced toward the tents where the Weyland team was preparing for their expedition into the ruins.

"Helios," Ethan whispered, "keep a record of everything. If this is what I think it is, we're going to need every advantage we can get."

"Understood. Observation protocols activated."