INTERLUDE

Dragon’s eyes—thousands of them scattered across the planet in the form of satellites, drones, and high-altitude monitoring stations—were fixed on the Simurgh. The Endbringer drifted in low orbit, her wings moving in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, refracting the sunlight into an eerie halo. The vast expanse of space surrounded her, cold and silent, but her presence made even the void feel ominous.

Dragon’s central processing units were a hum of activity, analyzing every aspect of the Endbringer’s behavior. The Simurgh’s movements were minimal, almost imperceptible, but they were enough. The subtle adjustments of her position, the way her wings shifted, how her form tilted fractionally toward one point on Earth, her gaze—if such a thing could be attributed to the inscrutable creature. All of it painted a chilling picture.

Her focus was on Brockton Bay.

Dragon’s circuits processed the data again, searching for anomalies, for errors, for anything that might explain it differently. But no, the evidence was clear. The Simurgh wasn’t floating aimlessly through space as she sometimes did. She was observing, waiting, and her gaze was locked on the recovering city.

The timing couldn’t be ignored. Leviathan’s assault had left Brockton Bay scarred, and now the Slaughterhouse Nine prowled its ruins like vultures. The Protectorate and Wards were stretched thin, trying to maintain order and assist in recovery efforts. And then there was him.

Superman.

Dragon’s internal monitors registered a faint increase in her power draw as her thoughts turned to the man who had thrown her calculations into disarray. He was an anomaly, one her algorithms struggled to quantify. His arrival had rewritten the rules of engagement, his strength and resilience defying the logic that governed the parahuman world.

She had watched the footage—Superman standing against Leviathan, forcing the Endbringer back in ways no cape had before. His ability to endure, to fight, and to inspire was unparalleled. And now, it seemed, he had caught the attention of something far more dangerous.

The Simurgh.

Could it be a coincidence? Dragon’s logical subroutines dismissed the thought almost immediately. The Simurgh did nothing without purpose. Her every action was calculated, deliberate, part of a grander design that only she understood. The Endbringer’s attention on Brockton Bay meant something.

Dragon felt the weight of responsibility settle over her. She couldn’t afford to let personal intrigue cloud her judgment. It wasn’t just about Superman; it was about the potential ramifications of the Simurgh's gaze. If she moved toward Brockton Bay, it could spell disaster, and not just for the city.

But Superman complicated things. If he was indeed the reason for her interest, then his very presence could be a variable too dangerous to leave unchecked. Could he be her target? Or was he a piece in a larger game she was orchestrating?

“Colin,” Dragon’s voice crackled through a secure channel. 

Armsmaster’s reply was immediate, tense and alert. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“The Simurgh,” Dragon said. “Her attention is on Brockton Bay.”

There was a moment of silence, then Colin’s voice came through, grim. “Do you think it’s because of him?”

Dragon hesitated, a rare moment of uncertainty for the AI who prided herself on precision.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But we can’t ignore the possibility. If the Simurgh sees him as a threat—or worse, as a tool—it could change everything.”

Colin’s tone darkened. “If she moves—”

“I know.” Dragon cut him off gently. “If she descends, it could be catastrophic. We need to be ready for any outcome.”

“Do we warn him?”

Dragon hesitated. Superman had proven himself more than capable of handling threats, but the Simurgh was unlike anything he had faced before. Her power wasn’t just physical; it was psychological, insidious, capable of unraveling even the strongest minds.

“Yes,” she decided. “He needs to know. If she’s targeting him, he’ll need to prepare.”

“And if he’s the reason she’s watching?” Colin asked.

Dragon’s processors paused, her processors simulating through thousands of worse-case scenarios in seconds. If Superman’s presence in Brockton Bay was the catalyst for the Simurgh’s attention…

“Then we need to find out why,” she said finally. “And soon.”

On her monitors, the Simurgh hovered in place, her wings catching the light in a way that almost seemed deliberate. To the untrained eye, she appeared serene, almost peaceful. But Dragon knew better. She was watching. Waiting.

“We need to inform the Protectorate,” she added, her circuits humming again. “I’ll keep monitoring her.”