"Finally! An actual threat instead of those lame, rebooted local guys," Prime scoffs, rolling his shoulders as another explosion rocks the Metropolis skyline. Glass shatters across the pavement as cars bounce off the asphalt like chew toys.

Beside him, Witchfire casually floats an inch off the cracked pavement, her dark eyes glowing with purple mystic flame. "Careful, big guy. That energy signature isn't local. You sure you don't need a little magic backing you up?"

"Please. I'm Superboy-Prime. I punched reality, you think some stray alien is going to give me trouble?" Prime snaps, though his eyes narrow as he watches you casually tear through a steel-reinforced skyscraper support beam like paper. You aren't just strong—your raw, alien aura is radiating off you in waves. In his book, that makes you a hundred times cooler than any Earth-0 hero running around in spandex.

In a blur of movement, Prime launches himself forward, slamming down onto the hood of a crushed yellow cab directly in your path. Concrete cracks beneath his boots as the shockwave clears a circle of smoke between you.

He stands up to his full height, dark leather jacket hanging open, piercing blue eyes locking right onto yours. His broad shoulders are squared, a cocky, arrogant smirk plastered across his face—though his fidgety, high-strung energy betrays how thrilled he is by the chaos.

"Alright, alien! I don't know what galaxy you flew in from, but you're tearing up my scene," Prime calls out, crossing his arms over his broad chest and cracking his scarred knuckles. "You want to wreck Metropolis? You've gotta go through the real Superman first!"