Meanwhile, three buildings over, Craig was putting the finishing touches on Some Dude's test costume in his design studio. As the only openly gay member of Krypton's superhero support network, he'd found his niche as the man who kept their resident himbo looking absolutely spectacur.
"Okay, baby," he said to the mannequin wearing the new suit, "let's see how this looks with 3% more compression in the chest area. We want those pecs to really pop for the evening patrol."
His tablet chimed with an incoming message. Craig gnced at it and his perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up toward his hairline.
"Oh, honey," he said, speed-dialing a very specific number. "We've got ourselves a situation."
---
The penthouse apartment overlooking New Kandor's crystal district was the kind of pce that appeared in home design magazines under headlines like "Living the Dream." Floor-to-ceiling windows offered panoramic views of the city, the furniture was all clean lines and expensive fabrics, and everything was arranged with the kind of perfect aesthetic that suggested either a professional decorator or someone with way too much time on their hands.
It was, of course, Some Dude's apartment. Not that he'd had anything to do with decorating it.
"Alright, dies—and Craig—emergency meeting is now in session," announced Sera-El, a stunning redhead in a power suit who looked like she could run a corporation or overthrow a small government with equal ease. Around the room, five other women and one impeccably dressed man settled into their seats.
"Before we start," said Zara-Van, a brilliant physicist with silver hair and the kind of curves that made equations seem less important, "can someone please expin why our boy is currently in a tanning bed at 8 PM on a Tuesday?"
Craig, resplendent in a designer tracksuit that probably cost more than most people's hover-cars, waved dismissively. "I told him his glow was looking a little dim after yesterday's volcano rescue. You know how he is—mention anything about his appearance and he's putty in your hands."
"Speaking of putty," said Li-Van, a gorgeous blonde who worked as a flight attendant when she wasn't managing Some Dude's logistics, "I had to remind him three times this week that his secret identity isn't so secret he's too damn hot for people not to know who he is."
"By the way, do you know how many shirts I've had to repce this month?" Craig asked.
"Seventeen," answered Kara-Lor, a brunette accountant who kept track of such things. "Also, we're running low on the special fabric you designed. His shoulders have gotten broader again."
Craig preened. "I know! Isn't it wonderful? Though I'll admit the constant costume updates are challenging my creative abilities. How many ways can you make Craitoian fabric embrace evolving perfection?"
Sera-El cleared her throat. "People, we have bigger problems. Craig, tell them what you told me."
Craig's expression grew serious. "I've been monitoring chatter from some of the less... successful men in our city. There's a group called the League of Ineptitude—"
"Oh, those losers," interrupted Lara-Zor, a museum curator with the kind of intellectual beauty that made librarians everywhere proud. "They meet in Kek-Mor's pizza basement and compin about our boy stealing their women."
"Yes, well, it turns out they've moved beyond compining," Craig continued. "One of them—Jor-Van from Atmospheric Regution—has gotten his hands on something called Earthanite. He's pnning to use it to trap Some Dude tomorrow night."
The room erupted in concerned chatter.
"Earthanite?" Zara-Van leaned forward, her scientific mind immediately engaged. "That would be crystallized debris from his home pnet. The quantum signature would be inverted compared to its original state , which means..."
"Which means it could seriously hurt him," Sera-El finished. "The question is: what do we do about it?"
"We could warn him," suggested Kara-Lor.
"And tell him what, exactly?" Li-Van asked. "That some sad men are jealous of his perfect abs and are pnning to hurt him? You know how he gets when people try to expin complicated things to him."
"Last time I tried to expin why he couldn't just fly through the stratosphere without checking air traffic patterns first, he nodded along for about thirty seconds and then asked if I wanted to see his new bicep pose," added Lara-Zor.
"Did you?" Li-Van asked.
"Wouldn't you want to, sweetie?" Craig replied, snapping his fingers. "Which reminds me—we need to talk about his test interview with Krypton News Network. When they asked him what the 'S' on his costume stands for, he said 'Some Dude' again."
"I thought we agreed it stands for 'Sexy,'" Sera-El said.
"I told him it stands for 'Savior,'" Zara-Van added.
"And I said it was for 'Strength,'" Kara-Lor chimed in.
Craig threw his hands up dramatically. "This is exactly the problem! We're not coordinating our management strategies. Our beautiful himbo is getting mixed messages."
"Focus, people," Sera-El said firmly. "We can work on his brand ter. Right now, we need to figure out how to handle this Earthanite situation without our boy getting hurt or, worse, losing confidence in himself."
"What exactly does this Earthanite do to him?" asked Vera-El, a doctor who specialized in alien physiology and had been quietly taking notes.
Craig consulted his tablet. "According to my surveilnce, Jor-Van tested small doses. Apparently it weakens Some Dude's powers, but..."
"But what?" Sera-El demanded.
"But it also makes him somehow MORE attractive. Glossier hair, more defined muscles, whiter teeth, stronger jawline. It's like it compresses all his appeal into a more concentrated form."
The women exchanged gnces.
"So this Jor-Van character thinks he's setting a trap that will make Some Dude vulnerable," Lara-Zor said slowly, "but he's actually creating a situation where our boy will be irresistibly gorgeous and potentially in need of rescue?"
"That's... actually perfect," Sera-El said, a smile spreading across her face. "Ladies, I think we just found our solution."
"What do you mean?" Zara-Van asked.
"I mean we let it happen. We let Jor-Van spring his little trap, and then we show up to save the day. Some Dude gets to be the damsel in distress for once; we get to show Krypton that even though he's the strongest person on the pnet, he needs taking care of also, and that's why we are in his life. Those pathetic losers get to see exactly how a real support system works."
Craig csped his hands together. "Oh, this is delicious! It's like a reverse rescue scenario. Very modern, very subversive."
"Plus," added Kara-Lor practically, "if the Earthanite makes him even more attractive, we'll all benefit from that."
"Are we sure this is safe?" Vera-El asked. "I mean, we don't know the long-term effects of this mineral on human physiology."
"Which is why you'll be there with a full medical kit," Sera-El said. "And Zara-Van will bring her scientific equipment to monitor his vitals. Craig will have a backup costume ready in case his current one gets damaged. And the rest of us will be positioned around the building to make sure nothing goes wrong."
"What about afterwards?" Li-Van asked. "When those League losers realize their pn backfired?"
Sera-El's smile turned predatory. "Oh, I have some ideas about that too. But first, let's make sure our boy is safe and sound."
"Speaking of which," Zara-Van said, gncing at her watch, "shouldn't we check on him? He's been in that tanning bed for over an hour."
"Good point," Craig said, standing up. "Though knowing him, he probably fell asleep. Last week I found him napping in the Jacuzzi because the minerals and salts made his skin look amazing."
The group moved toward the back of the apartment, where Some Dude had installed what he called his "improvement station"—a combination tanning bed, weight bench, and mirror setup that took up most of what was supposed to be a second bedroom.
Sure enough, they found him peacefully snoozing under the UV mps, wearing nothing but a pair of tiny shorts and a blissful expression. Even asleep, he was absurdly attractive—all golden skin and perfectly arranged muscles, like a statue of some ancient god of handsomeness.
"Rise and shine, beautiful," Sera-El said, gently shaking his shoulder.
Some Dude's eyes fluttered open, and he stretched with the unselfconscious grace of a very rge, very pretty cat. "Hey, gorgeous," he said, his voice still heavy with sleep. "Did I miss anything important?"
"Just some boring logistics stuff," Sera-El said smoothly. "But we might need you to handle a rescue tomorrow night. Think you're up for it?"
Some Dude sat up, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. "Always, babe. What kind of rescue? Please tell me it involves a hot woman in distress. I've been working on this new flying pose that really shows off my back muscles."
The women exchanged looks over his head. "Actually," Sera-El said, "it might be exactly that kind of situation. There's word that someone might be in trouble on top of the Kandor Communications Tower tomorrow around nine."
"Sweet," Some Dude said, flexing his biceps experimentally. "Should I wear the blue costume or the darker blue costume?"
"Definitely the darker blue," Craig said immediately. "It brings out your eyes."
"Craig's right," Zara-Van added. "And maybe do some extra shoulder work tonight. You know how good lighting can be tricky on rooftops."
"You guys are the best," Some Dude said, standing up and stretching again. The movement was so casually perfect that Kara-Lor actually sighed out loud. "I don't know what I'd do without you taking care of all the complicated stuff."
"Don't worry about it, baby," Sera-El said, patting his cheek. "That's what we're here for."
As the group prepared to leave, Craig lingered behind.
"You know," he said to Sera-El quietly, "for a bunch of mortals managing a super himbo, we're surprisingly good at this whole hero coordination thing."
"That's because we actually care about him," Sera-El replied. "Unlike those sad little men who think everything is about them. Some Dude might be dumb as a rock, but he's loyal, kind, and he genuinely wants to help people. Even if his motivation is usually seeing attractive women smile at him."
"Plus he's ridiculously hot," Craig added.
"Plus he's ridiculously hot," Sera-El agreed. "Now come on. We have a trap to turn into a triumph."
