The Superior Spiderman in Young Justice

The Justice League received a report detailing the completion of one of Spider-Man's groundbreaking inventions—a technology designed to enhance Superboy's Kryptonian physiology. This invention had the potential to unlock the full spectrum of Superman's abilities within Superboy, granting him access to the complete set of powers possessed by the Man of Steel.

Given the significance and implications of such an advancement, the Justice League was obligated to oversee the procedure. Since the technology Spider-Man had utilized and developed was sanctioned under the League's jurisdiction, their presence was required to ensure compliance with League protocols, monitor the process for any unforeseen risks, and provide moral and strategic guidance.

Moreover, the Justice League understood the importance of this procedure not just for Superboy, but for the future of their team. Enhancing Superboy's abilities would not only elevate his potential but also solidify his role as a bridge between Kryptonian heritage and human values. However, they were also keenly aware of the ethical and scientific challenges involved in tampering with genetic enhancements, particularly on such a monumental scale.

As the League prepared to convene, there was a sense of cautious optimism mingled with the weight of responsibility. This wasn't just about advancing technology—it was about shaping the future of a young hero, and the League would ensure that the procedure was carried out with the utmost care and consideration.

As the Justice League gathered in the Watchtower to review Spider-Man's invention, Superman stood apart from the group, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on the holographic display of the enhancement device, but his mind was elsewhere. The tension in his posture was palpable, and it didn't go unnoticed by Wonder Woman, who approached him quietly.

"Clark," Diana said softly, standing beside him. "You've been unusually quiet. What's troubling you?"

Superman exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "This… procedure," he began, his voice low, "it could give Superboy everything I have—everything that makes me who I am. But what if it's too much for him? What if it changes him in ways we can't predict?"

He sighed heavily, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. "It's hard, Diana. Too hard to adjust… or even to understand this."

Diana tilted her head, her gaze steady and empathetic. "You're not just talking about the procedure, are you?"

Superman hesitated, then shook his head. "No. It's more than that. Our relationship—it's fragile at best. I know he looks up to me, but I've always kept him at arm's length. I didn't know how to accept him at first. To me, he was just… a clone. A reminder of everything Cadmus tried to do to undermine me. But he's more than that now. He's proven himself time and time again."

He paused, his expression tightening as an old wound resurfaced. "And then there's Luthor. Finding out he was tied to Superboy's creation was hard enough, but learning he had implanted a psychic command in Superboy's mind—something designed to turn him into a weapon at his whim—was almost too much to bear."

He clenched his fists tightly, his voice tinged with anger and regret. "He deserves better than that. He deserves better than what I've given him so far."

Diana placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice calm but firm. "Then give him better, Clark. You can't change the past, but you can shape the future. He looks up to you—not as a reminder of what created him, but as an example of who he wants to be. Don't let fear of failure stop you from being the mentor and family he needs."

Superman took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off his chest as he met Diana's gaze. The uncertainty in his eyes softened, replaced with a quiet resolve. "You're right. I've been holding back, keeping him at arm's length for too long. I was afraid… Afraid of what he might become, afraid of how my presence—or lack of it—would affect him. But I've realized that's not fair to him."

He turned his gaze to the horizon, as if searching for answers in the distance. "Conner deserves more than just my approval from afar. He needs my support—my guidance. And I owe him more than just being a figurehead. I owe him the chance to know me, to know that he has someone who's there for him, no matter what."

Superman's voice wavered slightly, the weight of his own guilt coming through. "I wasn't there when he needed me the most. I let my own doubts and fears get in the way. I should have been by his side, showing him that he wasn't just a clone or a reminder of the past. He's his own person, and I've failed to make that clear to him."

Diana's eyes softened with understanding as she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "It's never too late to make it right, Clark."

Superman nodded, the conviction building within him. "I've been holding back the apology he deserves. I've been too stubborn, too proud. I've let my own insecurities cloud what's important. But I won't make that mistake again." He clenched his fists, determination evident in his every word. "I'm going to apologize, Diana. I'm going to tell him that I'm sorry for not being the mentor he needed. For not being there when it mattered most. And I'll prove to him that he's more than just a clone. He's my family."

Diana smiled, her expression warm and encouraging. "I know you'll do right by him, Clark. And so will he. He looks up to you more than you realize."

Superman stood tall, his mind now focused on the task ahead. "I've got a lot of work to do… but I'll start with the most important thing first." His voice was firm, a promise to both himself and to Superboy. "I'm going to make things right."

Diana's smile softened, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "You know, Clark, you can't keep calling him 'Superboy' forever. He deserves more than that. He needs a name—one that's his own, not just a label."

Superman blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then a thoughtful expression crossed his face. "You're right."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In the dimly lit depths beneath the main lobby, the rhythmic hum of advanced machinery reverberated like a heartbeat through the subterranean chamber. Superior Spider-Man stood at the center of his domain, a figure of calculated precision. Holographic interfaces hovered around him, their pulsating glow casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the sleek metallic walls. The air was heavy with the sterile tang of metal and innovation, every detail a testament to his brilliance.

The quiet was broken by the faint hiss of the reinforced doors sliding open. A cadre of heroes stepped into the room, their collective presence radiating authority. Batman entered first, his shadow stretching long across the polished floor, his sharp gaze already dissecting every detail of the lab. Superman followed, his broad shoulders and calm demeanor commanding respect. Hal Jordan brought a faint emerald glow, his ring humming softly as it subtly scanned the room. Black Canary moved with deliberate precision, her eyes narrowing as they darted over the unfamiliar equipment. Captain Atom's metallic sheen caught the ambient light, and Aquaman strode forward with regal confidence, his expression unreadable.

Superior Spider-Man turned to greet them, his movements sharp and mechanical, much like the world he had built around himself. His lenses glinted in the dim light as he folded his arms, his voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel.

"You finally arrived. I was beginning to think you were having second thoughts," he said, his tone dripping with sardonic amusement. His gaze swept over them, lingering briefly on Batman and Superman, the unspoken challenge clear.

Batman's voice was cold and even, like a blade slicing through Spider-Man's bravado. "We're here to ensure this procedure is conducted safely and within the League's protocols."

"And to make sure you don't overstep," Hal Jordan added, his posture relaxed but his tone laced with suspicion. "No offense, Doc, but your track record doesn't exactly scream 'team player.'"

Superior Spider-Man's lenses narrowed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah, yes, the perennial distrust of brilliance. I expected no less from a group so fixated on tradition. Perhaps one day you'll learn that progress requires innovation—and innovators, like myself, are rarely bound by convention."

Superman stepped forward, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "This isn't about tradition or distrust. It's about responsibility. Superboy is more than just a test subject, and this… enhancement isn't something we can take lightly."

"Nor have I," Spider-Man replied sharply, his tone bristling with indignation. He gestured to the complex machinery around him. "Every calculation, every safeguard, has been meticulously accounted for. What I am offering is nothing short of a revolution—a chance for Superboy to achieve the potential his hybrid physiology has denied him."

Black Canary folded her arms, her sharp gaze pinning Spider-Man in place. "Results aren't the only thing that matters. The process, the risks, and the ethical implications—they're just as important."

Spider-Man's smirk widened, though his tone grew colder. "Spoken like someone who's never achieved greatness. But fine, by all means, stay and watch. Perhaps you'll learn something."

Batman's glare hardened. "Enough. This isn't about ego. It's about Superboy's future."

As if on cue, the door slid open again, and Superboy entered the room, his expression a mix of determination and unease. He glanced between the League and Spider-Man, clearly feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

"I'm ready," Superboy said, his voice steady despite the tension.

Spider-Man nodded, his demeanor shifting into one of clinical professionalism. "Excellent. Then let's begin." He gestured for Superboy to step toward the central platform, where the enhancement device awaited, its core pulsating with an ethereal blue light.

As Superboy stepped forward, Superman suddenly raised a hand. "Wait," he said, his voice firm yet carrying a rare undertone of vulnerability.

Superboy stopped, turning back to face him. Superman took a step closer, his usually commanding presence softened by a flicker of hesitation. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between the two heavy and unspoken.

"I need to say something," Superman began, his voice quieter than usual, almost uncertain. "Something I should have said a long time ago."

Superboy frowned slightly, unsure of what to expect. "What is it?" he asked, his tone guarded but curious.

Superman exhaled deeply, his shoulders dropping slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "I need to apologize," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "For being distant. For being cold. For not being what you needed me to be."

Superboy blinked, caught off guard by the admission. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped, the weight of Superman's words keeping him silent.

"When you first came into my life, I didn't know how to handle it," Superman continued, his gaze unwavering. "You were a clone—created without my knowledge, a reminder of everything Cadmus tried to do to undermine me. I let that cloud my judgment of you. I let it stop me from seeing you for who you really are."

Superman's voice grew softer, tinged with regret. "It wasn't fair to you. None of it was. You're not just a clone. You're not some experiment. You're a person. You're part of something greater. And I should have seen that sooner. I should have treated you with the respect and care you deserved."

Superboy's fists clenched at his sides, his expression flickering between surprise and frustration. "I didn't think you cared," he muttered, his voice almost too low to hear.

Superman's face tightened with guilt, and he stepped closer, placing a firm but gentle hand on Superboy's shoulder. "I do care. I've always cared, even when I didn't show it. I let my fears and insecurities get in the way. I was afraid of what you represented, of what you might become, of how I might fail you. But none of that was your fault."

His voice gained strength as he continued. "You've proven yourself over and over. You've shown strength, courage, and heart in ways I didn't give you credit for. You've earned your place here, and you've done it on your own terms. And I… I failed to acknowledge that. I failed to see you for the remarkable person you are."

Superman's grip on Superboy's shoulder tightened slightly, his expression resolute. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for failing you, for not being there when you needed me most. But I'm here now, and I'm not going to let you go through this alone. You deserve more than my approval—you deserve my support, my guidance, and my trust. And I'm ready to give you that, if you'll let me."

Superboy's eyes softened, the rigid tension in his posture beginning to ease. He looked away for a moment, as if trying to gather his own thoughts. "I didn't think I'd ever hear you say something like that," he admitted quietly. "I've been trying so hard to prove I'm not just… what they made me. That I'm more than that."

Superman nodded, his voice steady but warm. "You are more than that. You've already shown it to everyone around you. Now it's time I show you that I believe it too."

Superboy swallowed hard, nodding slightly as he blinked back the emotions threatening to surface. "Thanks," he said, his voice raw but sincere. "That means a lot."

The moment between them lingered, unspoken understanding filling the space. Behind them, the Justice League stood silently, the significance of the exchange resonating deeply with each of them.

Spider-Man cleared his throat, breaking the stillness but not the impact of the moment. "If the touching father-son moment is over," he said dryly, though a faint trace of approval lingered in his tone, "there's a procedure to complete."

Superboy glanced back at Superman, his posture straighter, his voice steady and confident. "I'm ready," he repeated, but this time, there was a new strength behind his words.

Superman stepped back, his hands falling to his sides but his gaze never leaving Superboy. "And I'll be right here," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. "Every step of the way."

As the tension in the room ebbed, Superior Spider-Man's sharp, commanding voice cut through the moment. "Enough sentimental exchanges. We're here for science, not therapy." He gestured toward the central workstation, where a containment pod hovered, suspended in mid-air, its design a masterpiece of interstellar engineering.

The pod was a seamless fusion of Atlantean bioengineering and Kryptonian crystalline matrices. Its sleek, almost organic structure pulsed with a rhythmic glow, as though alive. The crystalline core at its center emitted a bright, ethereal light, synced to the bio-synthetic processors embedded within. Around it, molecular stabilizers hummed with precision, each one controlling an intricate array of DNA sequencers.

Superior Spider-Man moved toward the pod with an air of methodical precision, his crimson and black suit reflecting the pale glow of the equipment. Holographic projections swirled around him, displaying strands of DNA and streams of data, each annotated with his meticulous notes.

"Behold," he began, gesturing to the pod as it came alive with a cascade of energy, "the culmination of science at its finest—unhindered by primitive fears or emotional baggage."

The room's occupants, including the Justice League, leaned in slightly, their expressions a mixture of awe and apprehension. Superman's jaw tightened as he studied the machine, his unease evident, while Batman's piercing gaze darted between Spider-Man and the containment pod, silently analyzing every detail.

Spider-Man continued, his tone brimming with confidence. "This containment pod is no ordinary piece of technology. By utilizing Kryptonian photonic resonance and integrating Atlantean molecular rejuvenators, I've designed a process that can isolate and amplify the dormant Kryptonian gene sequences within Superboy."

He gestured toward the crystalline core, now glowing brighter as it synced with the bio-synthetic processors. "These photonic resonators replicate the unique solar absorption properties of Kryptonian cells, essentially allowing us to saturate his physiology with energy identical to that absorbed by your yellow sun."

Superior Spider-Man's gloved hands moved with surgical precision across the holographic controls, the light from the interface casting sharp shadows across his face. "But that alone would be insufficient. To truly unlock the full spectrum of Kryptonian abilities, we needed something more—something capable of bridging the gaps in his genetic makeup. That's where Atlantean bioengineering comes in."

He pointed to the molecular stabilizers as they emitted a faint, rhythmic hum. "Atlantean molecular rejuvenators act as a stabilizing agent, repairing and reinforcing the cellular structures. This ensures that the process doesn't destabilize or destroy the existing human genetic framework within him."

His voice quickened slightly, betraying a flicker of excitement. "And to perfect this process, I incorporated Thanagarian nanoscopic gravitons. These gravitons stimulate cellular structures to mimic full Kryptonian physiology, unlocking latent abilities like heat vision, frost breath, enhanced durability—and yes, even flight."

He paused, turning to face the room. His mask obscured his expression, but his tone carried the weight of triumph. "No more shackles of imperfection. This process will grant him access to his true potential—a physiology capable of rivaling even yours, Superman."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of Spider-Man's words settled on the group. Superboy's gaze remained fixed on the pod, the light reflecting in his eyes as he tried to process the enormity of what was being offered.

Superman stepped forward, his voice low and measured. "You're confident this will work?"

Superior Spider-Man tilted his head slightly, his lenses narrowing. "Confidence is irrelevant, Superman. The science is sound. Every variable accounted for. If anything goes wrong, it will not be due to error on my part, but unforeseen anomalies within his unique physiology."

Batman's voice broke through, calm and analytical. "And the risks? What aren't you telling us?"

Superior Spider-Man turned sharply, his posture straightening. "Every procedure carries risks, but I've accounted for as many as possible. The pod's adaptive quantum algorithms ensure that the process can be adjusted in real-time to minimize complications. But yes," he admitted reluctantly, "there is a chance—however slim—that his body could reject the enhancements. Cellular destabilization, genetic regression, or, in the worst-case scenario… total systemic failure."

The bluntness of his words caused a visible reaction from some members of the League, but Superboy's expression hardened, a quiet determination settling over him. "I understand the risks," he said firmly, stepping closer to the pod. "I've faced worse. If this gives me a chance to be more than I am now, to finally stand on equal footing with Superman—then it's worth it."

Superman's hand came up again, resting on Superboy's shoulder. This time, his grip was firm but filled with a different energy—a mix of pride, protectiveness, and understanding. "If you're going to do this," he said, his voice softer now, "just know that you're already enough. No matter what happens here, you don't need to prove yourself to anyone—not me, not the League. You're more than what they made you."

Superboy nodded, meeting Superman's gaze with equal resolve. "I know. But this is something I need to do. For me."

Spider-Man cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to the machine. "Touching as this moment is, we're on a tight timeline. If we're proceeding, I suggest we do so now."

Superboy took a deep breath and stepped onto the platform. The containment pod shifted slightly, its glowing core adjusting to accommodate him. As the crystalline structure began to close around him, Spider-Man's hands moved over the controls, the hum of the machinery growing louder.

"Let the procedure commence," Spider-Man declared, his voice filled with the gravity of what was about to unfold

A/N

This is the longest chapter I've ever written, but it was absolutely worth it, for Superboy and his journey. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!

Now [POWERSTONE]