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Description
[NB: I had to change the textures of SM's suit. Close-ups looked ugly. Future appearances of SM will be uniform (pun not intended) with this update.]

One moment Superman had been flying over Metropolis.   Then out of nowhere a blinding light enveloped him. Not only were his eyes blinded, but his ears ceased to hear anything. The odor of the polluted air also vanished. He could still feel and move his limbs. He sensed a breeze touching his face, but it was soft and warm in contrast to the frigid wind gusts he had been soaring through. He instinctively slowed his flight, assuming a landing position. He blinked and just as mysteriously his sense of sight, sound, and smell were restored, but his environments had completely changed. He was inches above a square patio of paved stones in some desert region.   He touched down. As his boots made contact with the stone, an almost electrical surge traveled the length of his body.   As it left him so did his strength.

He swooned. A sense of dread knotted the pit of his stomach. Losing his invulnerability was tantamount to the trauma and shock of suffering some grievous injury.   The reaction was as biological as it was physiological. Aside from Kryptonite, only a being of equal power could affect him thus. Or magic.   Of these three conditions, he never feared meeting a superior opponent.   Inevitably his competitive nature pushed him to reach and meet most challenges.   Magic was a far worse predicament in his eyes than Kryptonite, which could be contained or countered through a variety of methods.   Otherworldly magic was the true bane to his power.     Even on the verge of passing out, he realized magic was involved, and he knew fear.

Through bleary vision he recognized the shape of a woman walking toward him.   He had trouble holding his head up as well as keeping his eyes open.   One glance sufficed to inform him that this was no woman who approached.  Despite a shapely body, her skin was rust-colored, and her face demonic. Dressed in a tight red bodysuit, she sauntered toward him, the heels of her black, thigh-length boots resounding like the sound of an amplified ticking clock.

* * *

For the next part, see .

Description
[NB: I had to change the textures of SM's suit. Close-ups looked ugly. Future appearances of SM will be uniform (pun not intended) with this update.]

One moment Superman had been flying over Metropolis.   Then out of nowhere a blinding light enveloped him. Not only were his eyes blinded, but his ears ceased to hear anything. The odor of the polluted air also vanished. He could still feel and move his limbs. He sensed a breeze touching his face, but it was soft and warm in contrast to the frigid wind gusts he had been soaring through. He instinctively slowed his flight, assuming a landing position. He blinked and just as mysteriously his sense of sight, sound, and smell were restored, but his environments had completely changed. He was inches above a square patio of paved stones in some desert region.   He touched down. As his boots made contact with the stone, an almost electrical surge traveled the length of his body.   As it left him so did his strength.

He swooned. A sense of dread knotted the pit of his stomach. Losing his invulnerability was tantamount to the trauma and shock of suffering some grievous injury.   The reaction was as biological as it was physiological. Aside from Kryptonite, only a being of equal power could affect him thus. Or magic.   Of these three conditions, he never feared meeting a superior opponent.   Inevitably his competitive nature pushed him to reach and meet most challenges.   Magic was a far worse predicament in his eyes than Kryptonite, which could be contained or countered through a variety of methods.   Otherworldly magic was the true bane to his power.     Even on the verge of passing out, he realized magic was involved, and he knew fear.

Through bleary vision he recognized the shape of a woman walking toward him.   He had trouble holding his head up as well as keeping his eyes open.   One glance sufficed to inform him that this was no woman who approached.  Despite a shapely body, her skin was rust-colored, and her face demonic. Dressed in a tight red bodysuit, she sauntered toward him, the heels of her black, thigh-length boots resounding like the sound of an amplified ticking clock.

* * *

For the next part, see .