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Superman Returns came out in 2006 and asked audiences a very sincere question: what if Superman, but sad? Brandon Routh brooded his way across the big screen, lifting improbable objects and pining for Lois Lane, and somewhere in a boardroom, someone decided this emotionally complex theatrical event needed to be a video game on four different platforms. Five if you count the Game Boy Advance version, which is technically a different game but we’re counting it anyway because we paid good money decided that we just needed to talk about it.

The PS2 and Xbox versions let you fly around Metropolis, absorbing explosions with your face in service of a health bar that belonged to the city rather than Superman himself, which is either a genuinely clever design idea or the most passive-aggressive mechanic in superhero gaming history. The Xbox 360 version turned the whole thing into an open-world showcase for what next-gen hardware could do, which in 2006 meant “look at those buildings.” The DS version was a side-scrolling beat-em-up. The GBA version was something else entirely. Superman Returns contained multitudes, is what we’re saying.

Joining me to dig through the whole sprawling, melancholy, city-defending mess is Adam Williamson, real-life friend, frequent Play Comics guest, and owner of a podcast idea that has been marinating for what I can only describe as a concerning length of time. Adam, I say this with love: at some point you’re going to have to actually make the thing. In the meantime, he’s here, the knowledge is flowing, and we’ve got a Superman game across half a console generation to get through.

So settle in, try not to let the city’s health bar drop to zero, and let’s find out whether Superman Returns deserved better — from Hollywood, from the games industry, and honestly, maybe from all of us.

Somewhere out there is a piece of Superman history that almost nobody remembers exists. Not because it was bad. Not because it flopped. It just… vanished off the internet one day, like it got caught in a Phantom Zone projector aimed at a server farm. That’s the story of The Multipath Adventures of Superman, and we’re about to dig it back up.

The whole thing started life as a CD project dreamed up with actual comic book writers, including Louise Simonson and Steve Englehart, before publisher Brilliant Digital Entertainment decided the format worked better as an ongoing online series. So you got Menace of Metallo on disc, and then a sprawling, branching, multi-arc saga that lived entirely on the internet, complete with a villain who time-travels just to make everyone’s life harder. And then, because this is the late ’90s internet we’re talking about, the entire thing quietly vanished. No re-releases, no remasters, just a bunch of dead links and a handful of people insisting this was real and they didn’t dream it.

So yes, this episode is a little bit of a cheat. We usually stick to games you could buy off a shelf and put in a console. This is software, distributed on a CD-ROM and later piecemeal over a dial-up connection, that you had to install a special plugin just to run. But it’s a piece of Superman history that’s basically slipped through the cracks of the internet entirely, and that felt worth breaking the rules for.

Helping me dig through the wreckage is Chris Baker from SuperHero.VG, who has spent decades working on actual superhero games at places like Marvel and LucasArts and literally wrote the book on this stuff with WRONG! Retro Games, You Messed Up Our Comic Book Heroes! If anyone can tell us whether this lost relic deserves to stay lost, it’s him.

So load up the B3D Projector, brace for some early-internet voice acting, and let’s see how many ways Metropolis can end before lunch.

Look, at some point you have to respect the audacity of putting the entire Justice League on a Game Boy Advance cartridge. Not one hero. Not two heroes doing a buddy-cop thing. The whole league. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the works. All crammed onto a handheld that also had to share shelf space with Hamtaro games. That’s ambition. That’s vision. That might also be a cry for help, but we’re not here to judge.

Justice League Chronicles was Ubisoft’s love letter to the animated series, which means it had genuinely great source material to pull from and a screen roughly the size of a Post-it note to work with. The Justice League animated series was the kind of show that made you sit down and watch it with your kids because it was actually that good, and somehow that energy had to survive the trip to a device that ran on two AA batteries.

Here to help make sense of it all is Doug Adamson from The Monitor Tapes, a man whose podcast is literally named after the thing the Justice League uses to watch for trouble. Which means he was cosmically destined to appear on this episode whether he wanted to or not.

So pull up a chair in the Watchtower, try not to touch anything that looks important, and let’s talk about a DC animated tie-in that had no business being as earnest as it was.