Jor-Van heaved himself up from his chair, which was a process that involved several false starts and at least one wheeze. At thirty-five, he was the oldest member of the League, and his body showed the effects of years of poor diet, no exercise, and the kind of bitter resentment that aged a man from the inside out.

  "My story," he began, "isn't about losing a woman to Some Dude. It's about never having a chance with one in the first pce, thanks to that muscle-bound freak."

  He started pacing, which was more of a slow waddle around the small basement room. "See, guys, I've done the math. Before Some Dude showed up on our pnet, I had statistical probabilities. There were women out there who might have been interested in a guy like me—someone stable, reliable, with a good job at the Department of Atmospheric Regution."

  "What kind of job?" Nim-Quel asked.

  "I monitor cloud formations," Jor-Van said defensively. "It's important work! Someone has to make sure our weather patterns stay within acceptable parameters. Do you know what happens when atmospheric pressure drops too rapidly?"

  "No," Kev-El said ftly.

  "Well, neither do most people, which is why they don't appreciate the vital service I provide to society!" Jor-Van was getting worked up now, his face turning red. "But that's beside the point. The point is that I had VALUE to offer. Maybe I'm not the most handsome guy, or the most charismatic, but I'm dependable. I'm the kind of man who shows up, who pays his bills on time, who's never missed a day of work in fifteen years."

  "Sounds thrilling," Kek-Mor muttered.

  "Mock me all you want, but there are women who value stability! Or at least there WERE, before HE showed up and ruined the entire dating ecosystem of Krypton."

  Jor-Van stopped his pacing and faced the group. "You see, I've been studying this scientifically. I've created charts, analyzed patterns, conducted thorough research into the mating preferences of Kryptonian females. And what I've discovered will shock you."

  He pulled out a tablet and started swiping through what appeared to be dozens of graphs and spreadsheets. "Before Some Dude's arrival, the average Kryptonian woman had realistic expectations. They were looking for partners who were maybe 20-30% more attractive than themselves, with compatible personalities and shared values."

  "Where did you get this data?" Nim-Quel asked suspiciously.

  "I've been monitoring dating app statistics, conducting surveys, and observing social interactions at various public venues," Jor-Van said matter-of-factly.

  "You mean you've been creeping on women," Kev-El transted.

  "I prefer 'conducting field research,'" Jor-Van sniffed. "And my research shows that Some Dude's presence has fundamentally altered female expectations across the board. Suddenly, every woman on Krypton thinks she deserves a man who can fly, lift tanks, and looks like he was carved from marble by the gods themselves."

  He swiped to another chart. "Look at this data! Since Some Dude's arrival, standards have skyrocketed 300%. Women who used to be perfectly happy with normal guys are now holding out for superhero-level partners. The market has been completely distorted!"

  "Maybe they just realized they could do better," Kek-Mor suggested.

  "Better than WHAT?!" Jor-Van exploded. "I'm a good person! I'm kind, I'm loyal, I have excellent hygiene—"

  "Debatable," Kev-El coughed.

  "—and I would treat a woman like a QUEEN! But do any of them give me a chance? No! Because they're all too busy fantasizing about Some Dude's abs and his stupid perfect hair."

  Jor-Van pulled up what appeared to be a social media profile. "See this woman? Lara-Zor. Works at the crystal foundry, has a pet seht, enjoys hiking and cssic Kryptonian literature. We have a 73% compatibility rating based on my algorithm. SEVENTY-THREE PERCENT!"

  "Did you ask her out?" Nim-Quel asked.

  "I tried! I sent her a very thoughtful message expining our compatibility metrics and suggesting we meet for coffee to discuss our shared interests. You know what she said? 'Thanks but no thanks, I'm focusing on myself right now.'"

  Jor-Van's voice was rising to a near shriek. "Focusing on herself! But three days ter, THREE DAYS, she posts a picture of herself at Some Dude's book signing—I didn't even know he could read—hoping to meet a certain someone. The hypocrisy is staggering!"

  "Maybe she just wasn't interested," Kev-El suggested.

  "That's what I thought at first. But then I did more research." Jor-Van swiped through more profiles. "Sera-El, Kara-Van, Zara-Lor—I've messaged dozens of women, all with high compatibility scores, all with simir interests and values. And they ALL gave me the same polite rejection before going off to try to hook up with Some Dude."

  He colpsed back into his chair, which groaned under the impact. "Don't you see? He's ruined it for all of us. How can a normal man compete with someone who can literally move mountains? How can we offer excitement to women who've seen him stop runaway trains with his good looks?"

  "Maybe it's not about competition," Nim-Quel offered quietly. "Maybe it's about finding someone who likes you for who you are, not what you can do."

  Jor-Van stared at him like he'd spoken in ancient Kandorian. "That's exactly the kind of naive thinking that's keeping you single, Nim. Women say they want personality and compatibility, but their actions tell a different story. When push comes to shove, they all want the alpha male. The provider. The protector. The guy who can fly."

  He pulled out another device—what looked like a small, glowing green crystal. "But I've been working on a solution. Gentlemen, meet Earthanite."

  The other members leaned forward, intrigued despite themselves.

  "What is it?" Kev-El asked.

  "It's a mineral formed from the debris of Some Dude's home pnet," Jor-Van expined, his eyes gleaming. "My contacts at the Department of Atmospheric Regution have been tracking the fallout from Earth's destruction. Most of it burned up in our atmosphere, but some rger chunks made it to the surface. And this stuff? It has some very interesting effects on our beloved hero."

  "What kind of effects?" Kek-Mor asked.

  "The kind that level the pying field," Jor-Van said with a smile that made him look genuinely unhinged. "I've been testing it in small doses. Turns out our invincible golden boy isn't so invincible after all."

  He held up the crystal, which pulsed with an eerie green light. "I've got enough here to power a trap that'll bring Some Dude down to our level, literally. No more flying, no more super strength, no more godlike appeal. Just a normal, vulnerable man who bleeds like the rest of us."

  "That's..." Nim-Quel started.

  "Brilliant?" Jor-Van finished. "I know. And the best part is, I've already set it up. Tomorrow night, Some Dude is going to get a distress call about a beautiful woman in danger on the roof of the Kandor Communications Tower. He'll show up expecting another easy rescue, and instead he'll find himself face-to-face with reality."

  "You're going to hurt him?" Kev-El asked, sounding suddenly uncertain.

  "I'm going to humble him," Jor-Van corrected. "Show the women of Krypton that their precious hero is just as simple and mortal as the rest of us when you take away his unfair advantages. And maybe, just maybe, they'll remember that there are other men on this pnet worth their time."

  The basement fell silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of someone upstairs dropping a pizza pan.

  "Tomorrow night," Jor-Van said, clutching the crystal to his chest, "everything changes."

  What none of them knew was that in the corner of the room, hidden behind a stack of old pizza boxes, a small recording device was capturing every word of their conversation. And the person monitoring that device was about to make some very interesting phone calls.