With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
19:37 GMT -5

Okay, a bit more than an hour.

"Recognised, Orange Lantern, B zero six."

Turns out, Jade hadn't seen her mum in years. And given that her mum really wasn't shy about telling her what she thought of her career choice, she actually preferred talking to me. I'm playing nice cop to someone's own mother.

Guess I've got the not-seen-your-mother-for-years thing to look forward to.

Oh, someone's sparring, and from the look of them they've been at it for a while. Kon has his t-shirt off, muscles on his heroically proportioned torso glistening with sweat. Donna's in her tight-fitting work-out gear, her hair either tied back in a bun or plastered across her face where it's escaped. They're both breathing hard.

Donna's actual combat uniform is a black bodysuit with some sort of wire mesh under the material, and with silver bracers matching Diana's gold ones. We found out quickly that it gave her a rather substantial advantage over Kon during training, so she's decided not to wear it. I really have to ask Diana what the metal is. There's no conventional material that can survive those sort of forces, let alone protect against them.

Kaldur, Wallace, M'gann and Artemis are spectating, while Diana calls out instructions to the fighters, correcting their postures and attacks. This is training for Donna as well as Kon, as without her armour she is noticeably less resilient than he is and her skills are tested evading and deflecting his attacks.

As I watch, Donna dives at Kon's legs, pushing off with her left leg, falling towards the floor then shooting forwards. One of her many areas of skill is in being able to switch between flight and walking with no gaps between states. Fighting against her forces you to rethink how people shaped objects can move.

Kon seems to find that much easier than Kaldur or I do. Wallace never stood a chance. He seems to find her somewhat distracting.

Kon crouches slightly as she launches, guards, then hops forward and stomps down hard on her most likely vector, forcing her to pull out of her attack. She spins away and tries to sweep him. He counters by kneeling, catching her leg and yanking her across in front of him. He swings a punch, and she rolls under it and attempts an arm lock.

"Don't anchor yourself in place when fighting a stronger opponent!"

Thing about supernatural toughness and stamina? They can carry on like that for hours. Diana doesn't believe in the whole 'fight's-over-if-you-hit-the-ground' thing, and Donna likes to get her money's worth while she's actually here.

The others are still watching the fight, but Artemis is sparing the time to scowl at me. I walk over to them.

"Sooo. How long have they been at it?"

"About forty minutes." Wallace takes a bite of his hotdog. "You know, if it was anyone other than Donna hogging the arena, I'd probably complain."

"Kon-El, she's baiting you. You're getting too aggressive."

Kon lunges forwards anyway, goes too far and gets an elbow to the back of the neck. He drops to all fours, turning as he does so and lashing out with his right arm in a wild swing. Donna doesn't get out of range quite fast enough and takes a glancing blow which knocks her spinning. She tumbles through the air before bringing herself under control just in front of us.

"Hey Paul."

"Good evening Donna. Nice to have you with us."

I meet her eyes with a nod and a smile. A glance to the side reveals that Wallace is taking the opportunity to ogle her chest. Fortunately, she's turned her attention back to Kon, and flies back into the fray.

"Yeah, soo not complaining."

I roll my eyes, and pat him on the shoulder. "Stay classy, Wallace."

Passing Kaldur, I walk over to M'gann and Artemis.

"Hi Paul! Where have you been all afternoon?"

"Prison. Belle Reve. I wanted to visit Jade."

M'gann looks a little concerned. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You know she just kissed you so she could get away, right?"

"Yes, I had realised that."

"Did she even want to talk to you?"

Yep, still angry.

"Artemis, part of the reason why I went was so that I could apologise for the whole tentacle crush thing. She said that she'd been hit harder in training."

Artemis flinches slightly. Maybe she's more sympathetic than I've been giving her credit for? Don't think I'll mention the Asian-tentacle thing. If Jade didn't hear it then I doubt that Artemis did.

"It took you this long to apologize?"

"No, we moved on to talking about other things. Lantern Gardn-."

"What other things?"

"Oh, nothing secret or anything. A little about me, where I come from. A bit about weapons; she wanted to make sure I used the correct names for her knives in my report. We eventually got onto her relationship with her parents; I'd bumped into her mother going in, and her dad was-."

Artemis is staring at me. "Why were you talking about this with her anyway?"

"Well, Lantern Gardner used to work in prison counselling, and he told me that inmates who have good social support outside prison have a better chance of not reoffending. I mean, the supervillain rehabilitation rate in this country is basically zero, so if we want to avoid doing this all again in a year or two, we should really put some effort into.. finding.. productive... What?"

Artemis is still staring at me, but now she's leaning into it.

I smile nervously, catch M'gann's eye and make a small shrug.

"You went to Belle Reve?"

"Yes?"

"To talk to Cheshire?"

"Yes?"

"And she didn't say anything about…" She stops for a moment, and looks away. "You didn't ask anything about the League of Shadows?"

"No, I didn't really ask about them. I mean, M'gann already took everything Jade knew, and it's not as if the identity of their leader is a secret or anything. Look, is there something you want to tell me? Because you've been in a mood with me since we fought her. Did she.. say something to you? Because she didn't mention you at all."

Back to the staring, but it's less aggressive now. Huh. I'll have to ask Jade what she said next time I visit.

There's a loud thump from the arena as Kon lands hard on his back and doesn't immediately get up again.

"Kon, you alright?"

"Great!" He goes to push himself up. "Ow."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
19:41 GMT -5

Diana holds up her right hand. "I think that's enough for today. Kon-El, you're improving, but you need to work on keeping your aggression in check. Your eagerness to strike your opponent leaves you open to their counter attack."

He nods in response, pushing himself into a sitting position. His breathing rate has already returned to normal.

"Donna, you need to work on using your opponent's blind spots. You're too keen on attacking directly and forfeiting your advantage in agility."

She just nods. She's panting harder than Kon is, but less than I would be pre-ringing after a two hundred metre jog.

Whaw, I was unfit.

The arena light shuts down, and Donna walks over to offer Kon a hand up. He smiles as he takes it. I don't understand it, but he seems to really enjoy this sort of thing. I still have unarmed combat lessons with Black Canary, and they just make me hurt. She tried to motivate me by comparing what I can do unarmed with what Lanterns Jordan and Stewart can do, but all that really tells me is that they're focusing on things that don't matter. Or maybe they do matter to a green ring? Not sure. My sessions with Lantern Gardner are much more useful, though even more harrowing. I was still shaking a good half hour after the last one.

Fixing minor cuts and bruises is easy with this ring, but dampening down the psychological effect of a constant green energy beam barrage is not so easy. I used to wonder why Dragonball Z characters ever used that sort of bombardment when all of the worthwhile damage was done with slower, more powerful attacks. Now I know: shell shock. Until you get used to it -and I still haven't- when you're under attack like that it's very difficult to think anything more complex than 'shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!'. That actually helps my armour in the short term, but would have cost me a real fight before too long.

There's a hum and a hiss from the roof, and the iris door to Red Tornado's room opens. It's directly above the arena for some reason. Wouldn't it be much more practical for it to be located off to one side? What if he wanted to get out and the sparring bout was still going on? Would stairs really be so bad? I had a look when I was taking bits of Mister Twister up there, and it's just an engineering workshop. I didn't even see any personal mementos. Alan's got a couple of rooms full of that sort of stuff.

Red Tornado himself drops down to the ground, and the iris closes behind him. The force of winds needed to keep someone of his weight aloft must be immense, but outside the red blur that surrounded his legs there was barely a breeze. He walks over to Diana, and I can just hear his-. No. No eavesdropping.

Wallace decides to take the initiative anyway. In a blur he's inside their personal space. "Do you have a mission for us?"

Red Tornado rotates his head in Wallace's direction. "Mission assignments are the Batman's responsibility."

"Yeah, well 'the Batman's' with 'the Robin' doing the dynamic duo thing in Gotham. But you're going somewhere, right? Hot date? Or a mish-shon?"

Red Tornado pauses for a moment, and then turns his head toward Diana. She considers. "It can't hurt. I was going to ask Donna and Paul to accompany me anyway."

I know that Red Tornado ended up married in the comics, but I haven't noticed much of an inclination toward social interaction while he's been here. Alan told me that he used to be the only member of the old Justice Society who lived on site, and that he had never known him to have a recreational pursuit.

Red Tornado steps away, and activates one of the holographic computer interfaces. As the rest of us congregate around it, there's a hum, and a picture of Mister Nelson appears on the screen.

"This is Kent Nelson. A friend of Wonder Woman and myself. He is one hundred and six years old."

Wallace leans over to me. "Guy doesn't look a day over ninety."

I shrug. "Alan could pass for forty."

"And he has been missing for twenty three days."

Ring?

Confirmed. One day after visitation.

Darn.

"Kent was a charter member of the Justice Society, the precursor to the Justice League."

A picture of a younger Mister Nelson in full Fate costume replaces the image of the old man on the screen.

"Of course. Nelson was Earth's sorcerer supreme. He was Doctor Fate!"

Sounds like Kaldur's done half the reading.

Wallace isn't impressed. "Pff. More like Doctor Fake. Guy knows a little advanced science and 'Dumbledores'-" He actually made the air quote gesture. "-it up to scare the bad guys and impress the babes."

"You realise you're talking to someone using a ring powered by his emotional state, right?"

"Yeah, but-."

"Kent may simply be on one of his… 'Walkabouts'. But he is caretaker to the Helmet of Fate, the source of the Doctor's mystic might, and it is unwise to leave such power unguarded."

"He is like the great sorcerer priests and priestesses of Mars. I would be honored to help find him."

Add researching Martian magic and religion to the slate. I've found that I can add things to my notebooks while they're in subspace. No idea how that works.

Wallace raises a hand enthusiastically. "Me too."

Not surprised. I imagine that Mister Nelson and Mister Garrick would have been friends, and Wallace seemed to admire the first Flash.

"Soo honored I can barely stand it."

Oh. No, he's just planning to hit on M'gann again.

"Magic." He makes the horns. "Rocks."

Hasn't he had even a basic induction session on the nature and uses of magic? We've done melee combat and criminal investigation, I assumed that magic lessons were further in to the curriculum. I've tried to do some reading, and the books belonging to Mister Nelson that Alan gave me were helpful, but there doesn't seem to be a set text or standard notation. I really need to talk to Diana about getting a thaumaturgist on the team. If Zatanna's not up for it, then maybe… Whatshername, Tracy Thirteen? Without knowing her real name I hadn't thought it worth trying to find her. Maybe see if Mister Zatara can teach a few lessons?

Time to stick my head above the parapet.

"I spoke to Mister Nelson shortly before he went missing."

Ah. Centre of attention.

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
19:48 GMT -5

Diana's first to respond. "When was this?"

"On the twenty seventh of July. He was visiting Alan, and Alan called me."

M'gann looks offended. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have loved to meet him."

"Call came via the ring-" I point. "-at five past six in the morning. I was woken up by a giant orange head, and Alan was really unclear about why he wanted to see me. When I got to his house, Mister Nelson was there. He was stopping off before travelling on to New Orleans, and then probably on to London."

Didn't he visit Diana as well, or at least contact her? Maybe they weren't that close. Hang on. Ah, drug gang gun battle in Mexico City. She probably couldn't spare the time.

"Do you know why he wanted to go there?"

"Is this ring orange? Because he's a hundred and six and he needs someone to take over looking after the Helmet before he dies. There was a medium in New Orleans he was going to interview, and I suggested the name of a wizard I know of in London."

"What are their names?"

"Didn't ask about the medium. Wizard's name is John Constantine."

No sign of recognition. "I haven't heard of him."

"I imagine that he's a little under the League's radar, but I think Mister Zatara knows of him."

She nods. "I'll check with him. Do you think this John Constantine might have had something to do with Kent's disappearance?"

Well… "Do I think he'd have kidnapped him, or attacked him? No, that's quite a long way outside his method of operation. But that's not to say that there might not have been some sort of incident. London's magic underground isn't exactly a safe place."

She nods again. Kaldur's giving me a puzzled look. Not sure why. "Do you have any idea how to contact him?"

"I haven't been able to locate him, but I do know where his sister lives. I haven't approached her myself because, as I understand it, Mister Constantine doesn't want the rest of his family involved with, well, this." I gesture to the room. "But if there's an actual incident to investigate, might be worth trying her."

"Any other family?"

"Brother-in-law and niece, both living with the sister. Other than that, not that I know of. Ring, upload all information relating to John Constantine to the computer on Wonder Woman's jet."

"Compliance."

"I'll follow up on London. Donna, are you able to accompany me?"

She brightens at the prospect. "Ah, yes, but I should probably take a shower first."

Ring?

A wave of orange light passes through Donna, eliminating sweat and grime.

"Oh. Thanks."

Wallace looks curious. "Your ring has a shower function?"

Eh? "Why'd you think I didn't shower with you guys after missions?"

Red Tornado raises his right hand, holding what looks like a weird looking key.

"It would be best if the team investigated the Tower of Fate. It is located in Salem, Massachusetts." He holds out the key to Kaldur. "This key will grant you access. I will investigate the lead in New Orleans."

Kaldur takes the key, while Wallace wanders over to try his luck with M'gann again.

I'm going to need to recharge. I'm not low, but this looks like it'll be an actual mission and I don't want to take unnecessary risks. I step away from the group, but Kon and Diana intercept me from opposite directions.

Kon speaks first. "Would.. you mind cleaning me off as well? I don't wanna hold up the mission."

"Sure, let me just…" He is rather sweaty.

"Um."

Come on damn you work. Ah. The orange band moves over Kon. He runs his right hand through his hair.

"Thanks. Heading down to the bioship?"

"Just gunna recharge the ring first. I'll be down in a moment."

He nods, smiles, and turns back to the group. I turn to Diana and come to parade rest.

"Sir?"

"Kent told you that he was looking for a successor?"

"Yes? Well, confirmed it after I used the-" I point at my eyes. "-Ophidian's Eyes on him."

Not sure where she's going with this.

"Do you know who else he was considering for the position?"

"Ahp, I think he said he offered it to Mister Zatara, but he turned it down. Yeah, he didn't mention the others by name, just that he's asked a lot of people."

She doesn't seem happy about this for some reason.

"Can I ask? Why do you want to know?"

"Themysciran reliquaries hold a number of powerful arcane artefacts. Though I don't think there are any Amazons who would be prepared to.. bond.. with Nabu, we would be perfectly happy to secure the Helmet and any other dangerous objects as an interim measure. Please, if you see him, let him know that."

"Of course. Are.. there.. a lot of Amazonian magic users?"

"Few choose to become sorceresses, but most Amazons use magic to some degree. We've… They've, had a great deal of time in which to learn."

She makes to leave. "Oh, um, one other thing came up in conversation."

She turns back. "Yes?"

"It's probably more of a long term thing. Um. But Mister Nelson scanned me, and it turns out that I sort of.. don't have a soul. And, that could be a problem. In the long term."

Incredulous. "You don't have a soul? I know you said you were an atheist-."

"No no no, it's not a matter of faith. My home parallel doesn't have magic, so I came here without any sort of magic presence. No soul."

Realisation. "That was why you reacted as you did at Gaea's temple. I had seen people affected by it before, but your reaction was unusually strong."

"Yeah. Apparently that'll happen whenever I'm somewhere with intense magic."

Her gaze shifts from me over to the others; Kaldur in particular, I notice.

"The Tower of Fate is a site of powerful magics, though I have never tried to make a direct comparison between it and the Temple. Do you think that you will be able to cope?"

"I don't know." I shake my head. "I'll tell Kaldur, and let him decide. Even if I can't enter the Tower safely, I can still be on overwatch."

She nods her approval. "Have you considered what lacking a soul means for you?"

"I've been trying to do some research, but even though magic is readily available here, there don't seem to be many reliable books on the subject. I suppose it means that if I die there's nothing to go on to an afterlife, assuming those actually exist."

"I assure you that they do."

"Okay, but, like you said, atheist. I believed that there was nothing after death anyway. Really, this is still an improvement, because I know it could change."

She thinks for a moment. "I will speak with Magala, my mother's court sorceress. Once I have information for you, I will let you know."

"Thank you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:02 GMT -5

If you're not sure of your mission fitness, inform your team leader.

I didn't take my normal seat next to Kon so that I could have a quiet word with Kaldur. I've been in close proximity to him when he's used magic before to no ill affect. He's actually taking some sort of Atlantean correspondence course, finishing the education that got interrupted by Aquaman taking him on. I've transmuted reagents for him a couple of times, then hung around to watch him work. The ring couldn't work out what was happening… Or maybe I just don't have the vocabulary to understand its explanation.

Is this going to be a big deal with the rest of the team? I know Americans tend to be more religious than the English, but none of my team mates have shown any overt religiosity in my presence. On the other hand, the three I've spent most time with aren't Americans, and it hasn't ever come up in conversation. I didn't even know that Mars even had a priesthood until M'gann mentioned it. Do they have several religions? The way she said it implied just one. And I have no idea how Atlanteans do things.

I lean forward, and try to keep my voice down. "Aqualad, can I borrow you for a moment?"

He looks up from the data pad he was reading. Looks like he's reviewing Mister Nelson's service record. "What is it?"

Where to begin?

I exhale. "When I spoke to Mister Nelson, he made me aware of something… Okay, you know how I come from a parallel universe?"

"You have mentioned it."

"Right... It's not just history that's different. The way physics works is different as well. And, one of the differences, is no magic."

His eyes drop for a moment. "If you are concerned about what we may face-."

"No, I've read up on that. The problem's a bit more… When I appeared here, I didn't suddenly start interacting with local magic as if I'd been here my whole life."

I'm trying to lead up to it, but I think I'm just confusing him. "Are you saying that you are immune to magic?"

"No. Quite the opposite, actually. I don't have a soul, and as a consequence I have no resistance to magic at all. Made a, heh, a bit of a scene when Wonder Woman took me to the Temple of Gaea. Was a bit like I was drunk, or high, or something."

Kaldur's face is still as he considers this. "You are certain that is the cause?"

I shrug. "I can't check, can I? But it sounds logical."

"It does, though it would appear to contravene what I was taught at the Conservatory of Sorcery. The idea that complex life is possible without magic is a strange one."

"Welcome to my world. Look, I wanted to let you know in case I start acting up when we get to the Tower. You might be better off leaving me in a supporting role."

He nods, once. "I will consider it. Thank you for informing me."

"-seriously considered becoming a wizard myself."

Is Wallace still trying that?

"Aqualad, I just want to check: there isn't a school for arcane learning in North America, right?"

"Not that I am aware of. In fact, I do not know of any in the surface world."

"Eh, there's a few. There's the White College in the north of England, but it's invite only. There's Nanda Parbat in Tibet if you're spiritually inclined, Themyscira if you've got a v-."

M'gann interrupts me. "We're approaching Tornado's coordinates, but-."

Kon stands, and peers out of the front window. "Nothing's there."

Kaldur checks an instrument panel. "Take us down. We will investigate further on foot."

M'gann moves her hands at the controls, and the bioship drops down to land on what looks like an empty car park. I take a moment to look out of the front window myself as the others file past, out of the rear hatch. There really isn't anything here. I mean, one look at the surrounding buildings shows that there isn't really any reason for there to be a big empty space here, so someone's playing silly buggers. And if I can even notice that fact, the wards must be of the more passive sort. A glamour, then? I didn't notice anything on those in the book he gave me, but I was more concerned with making sure I wasn't sending messages to the Ophidian than magical hacking.

I get up, armour up and join the group outside.

There don't seem to be any other people about. Wallace is conducting a celerity assisted sweep of the perimeter, pausing at intervals to check… something..? I'm going to assume that he thinks the Tower is concealed by technological means, and presumably he has encountered such devices before. And, of course, it might be. Just because it's hidden by magic doesn't means that it can't also be hidden by other means.

Just in case…

Ring, general scan, four hundred metre radius.

Compliance.

It seems that the ring finds this area perplexing. Some of the returns from its scans don't agree with each other, but it doesn't know how to resolve the dispute. There's definitely something here, though. I can't remember anything about the Tower from the comics that might offer any insight.

Maintain scans. Let me know if anything changes.

Compliance.

**Sorry, ring's got nothing.**

M'gann lowers her hands from the sides of her head. **Nothing on telepathic scans.**

Wallace returns to the group, braking hard in front of Artemis. **I can't find anything either. This isn't simple camouflage.**

Artemis has her hands on her hips. **So, what'd'ya think? Adaptive micro-optoelectronics combined with phase shifting?**

Ring, we're checking for that, right?

Optical camouflage is insufficient to affect base level scans. Current avarice levels also support multiphasic scanning, which is in progress.

Good to know.

**Absolutely.**

So, wait, has he given up on the magic angle with M'gann? I'd like to think so, now that a mission is in progress.

Then M'gann takes a few steps towards him.

**N..not.**

Gods damn it, Wallace.

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:11 GMT -5

**Clearly, mystic powers.. are at work here.**

Artemis' face leaves no question of what she thinks of his blatant nonsense. I'd roll my eyes, but the ring has just made me aware of a patch of phase shift at the edge of the area which the Tower of Fate is supposed to occupy. Someone just moved a stealth field up behind us, and I'm a little worried about the possibility of immediate attack.

Nothing.

Ring, are we able to see inside that area without letting those inside know that we've seen them?

Unable to confirm. Probability dependent on data not obtainable without bypassing phase shift stealth system.

Of course it isn't.

**If everyone could maintain the pretence of looking for the tower? We are under observation.**

Heads and eyes swivel in my direction. I ignore them, generate an orange torch and begin what I hope looks like a methodical search pattern.

Kaldur gets the idea first. He holds out his water bearers and forms an arc of water between them, and begins walking a grid. I wonder if he can actually use them to detect magic? Some sort of reverse dowsing? M'gann rises into the air and swoops across the tarmac, a small distortion forming around her hands. The others catch on, and spread out to look by more mundane means.

**The ring has detected an area of phase shift.**

Kon frowns. **I thought you said you couldn't find anything?**

**I couldn't. It wasn't there when I started scanning. Someone snuck up on us and is currently watching us. Kid Flash, don't look around!**

He freezes for a moment, before resuming his fake search.

Kaldur stops walking for a moment, and rotates on the spot, coincidentally making eye contact with me. **Are you able to determine who it is?**

**Not without piercing the distortion, and I can't guarantee that they won't detect that. With your permission?**

**You have it. Try not to let them know what you are doing.**

Ring, you heard the man. Minimum power.

I don't look in their direction, but in my mind's eye I see four orange outlines. No, five. It looks like Klarion the Witch Boy brought Teekl along. I only really know them from Seven Soldiers, but I don't remember him being particularly powerful in any of his incarnations. I see Mister Nelson, with his hands bound in front of him. He looks understandably miserable, but I can't see any injuries. Just behind him is a man in a white shirt and sporting a wand and a beard of evil. Abra Kadabra. Justice League records indicate that he uses highly advanced technology to perform apparently magical feats. Have to see about scanning his tech in detail later. I seem to remember that he comes from the future, but I can't yet tell if that's true of this version.

The last man is standing at the back. Black leather coat, black gloves, black leather boots and a full head mask with a white swirl over the face. No idea how he can see out. I don't recognise him, and there's nothing in the League files. Some sort of dark nineties version of Batman of the Future's Spellbinder? I can't see any weapons on him at this level of resolution.

None of them seem to be reacting to what I'm doing, though Mister Nelson might just be disguising his awareness intentionally.

**Three opponents, Mister Nelson and a cat. Abra Kadabra of Central City, Klarion the Witch Boy and some guy I don't recognise.**

I get an incredulous response from Wallace. **Klarion the what?**

**Witch Boy.** Wait, that sounds stupid, and since he isn't in the files I can't explain where I know it from. He also isn't wearing his traditional puritan pilgrim costume. **Young male magic user. He's wearing a suit. I think the cat's his familiar.**

Kaldur keeps things moving. **The other man?**

**Not on file, and I don't recognise him. No obvious weapons, but that probably just means that he doesn't need them.**

**Is Mister Nelson injured?**

**Not as far as I can tell.** I think for a moment. Ring, can we attack through the phase shift?

Phase shift piercing attacks are available.

Good to know. I transmit the ring's image and the enemy's location to the others via the telepathic network.

**Ah, Abra Kadabra. Such a shame that he never opened his heart to the true mystic arts.**

**Not the time, W-. Kid Flash.**

Artemis chips in. **I don't recognize the leather guy either.**

I'm starting to worry about that as well. The dress code suggests malnourished Midnighter, but he's slightly slumped. Oh, his hands are twitching. I think Klarion's saying something to him, but I don't have sound at the moment.

**I can try scanning under the mask, but that increases the risk of them realising that we're on to them. And, frankly, I'm not sure it's worth the effort. Major supervillains either don't do subtlety or they don't do fieldwork. If he were out of our weight class we'd have heard of him by now.**

**Just so long as you don't try kissing him.**

Banter? Glad to know she's stopped being angry with me. **He doesn't look like my type. All that leather? What is he thinking?**

She gives me a surprised glance. What?

**Rescuing Mister Nelson is our main purpose here. M'gann, find heavy objects and levitate them over the roof behind them. When I give the word, hurl them at Klarion and the unknown figure.**

M'gann nods, and raises herself higher up into the air.

**Orange Lantern, we will need you to neutralise Abra Kadabra as quickly as possible. Can you attack through his cloak?**

I did want a look at his tech. **Unless he's done something very clever, yes.**

**Prepare to initiate your attack on my command.**

**Sir.**

**Kid Flash, I need you to recover Mister Nelson as swiftly as possible. Artemis and I will cover you.**

**You got it.**

**Once you have him, take him to the bioship. Depending on the level of resistance we encounter, either return to assist or cover our retreat.**

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:18 GMT -5

What sort of construct to use? Clearly, I need to disrupt whatever Abra Kadabra uses to control his technology. I can see a wand, but I imagine he has implants to go with it. Shouldn't be too hard to block or destroy, but in case he doesn't need to move to use them I should probably avoid using the ShockCrown. The records in the Justice League database suggest that all of his really dangerous stuff requires a good deal of set up time, and I haven't detected anything like that around this square.

Hmm. Grapple, grab his wand and yank him away from the others, then plug a construct into his peripheral nervous system and paralyse him while jamming any signals to the outside. Slamming him into the ground couldn't hurt. Come up from below? Should I keep that in reserve?

**Is everyone ready?**

By 'sheer chance', Wallace's search pattern has brought him closest to the stealth field. Kon's crouched slightly, as if examining the ground. Artemis returned to the bioship for her bow, and is 'cleaning' some arrows. Kaldur has separated the water streams from his water bearers, ready to make medium distance whip attacks.

Ring, extend subterranean construct. Prep phase disruptors.

Compliance.

An orange filament extends from my right heel. It goes down a metre through the tarmac, then travels straight under our targets.

**Orange Lantern ready.**

**I'm ready.** I get a quick flash of M'gann's position.

**Ready.** Artemis 'experimentally' puts arrow to string.

**Ready.** Kon tenses his legs, ready to leap.

**I'm always ready.** Wallace stretches his right leg.

**Attack once the camouflage is down. Orange Lantern, attack when ready.**

My orange thread is split into four under the target area. The four sub-threads radiate away from the division point and form the corners of a square, each terminating in a ray gun like construct.

Now.

There's no sound, not even a visual distortion. One moment we're looking at a wall, the next, a group of three supervillains, a cat and an old man. Kadabra has just enough time to stare at his wand in confusion before the chain erupts from the tarmac under his feet. A clamp forms around his neck and yanks him face first into the ground. He drops his wand, and an orange tendril latches on to it. Wallace blurs past as I put an x-shaped harness around Kadabra's chest, jam his everything, and launch both of us off the ground. He's never shown any ability to fly, and most people will hesitate to attack if it means a two kilometre drop.

Just as we leave the area M'gann's projectiles zero in on the remaining targets. The guy in black raises his head toward them.

"'crack'"

The two lumps of concrete explode into powder, obscuring the area. I see Artemis' arrow fly towards the last location of the unknown villain-

"'tok'"

-and bounces off air. We're going to need to have that talk about the efficacy of pointy sticks against force fields, aren't we? I had been hoping to put that off.

Four bolts of red lightning blast out of the dust cloud forcing the others to evade, and I hear someone -I think it's Klarion- giggling.

**Orange Lantern to Aqualad. Kadabra is clear. Orders?**

**Kid Flash to Aqualad, Mister Nelson's clear. A bit beat up, but he says he'll be okay.**

**Kid Flash, return to the combat area. Orange Lantern, uh-**

**Kaldur?**

**Klarion's assistant is more dangerous than I'd hoped. Interrogate Abra Kadabra. Report anything useful you learn.**

**Sir.**

That will take me out of telepathic range, of course. I seem to remember Klarion's powers in the comics being a little more subtle than red lightning. Eh, they've got a clear line of retreat if they're being overwhelmed, and they've still got the radio.

Up we go then.

As the car park drops away I take a moment to scan Kadabra. Not as many implants as I was expecting. A couple in his gut, and a cluster around the base of his skull. They keep trying to transmit, but nope, still jammed. His organs are more or less baseline Human, though according to the ring there's been quite a bit of genetic tweaking. Optimisation, rather than redesign. I take his wand into my hand. It looks like it has similar subspace storage facilities to the ring, but it can also form links between stored objects and the outside world. He's weaponised something I use for notebook writing.

We're now at splat height, and he's pretending to be unconscious.

"Mister Kadabra, I can read your brain activity. I know that you're perfectly aware of your surroundings." He lazily opens his eyes, and wrinkles his nose at me. "Now, I'm Orange Lantern t-."

His eyes open wide in shock. His pupils flash down to the glowing sigil on my chest. His heart rate and breathing rate have shot right up.

Um… Okay…

"No no no no no no!"

He's reaching out for his wand with his left hand. The implant in his neck appears to be a dedicated subspace receiver, and he's trying to trigger it like mad right now. I suppose that implant handles the activation process of the subspace link? Wand waving wouldn't be precise enough.

I put the wand in my subspace storage.

"You can't be here now! I checked! You shouldn't be here yet!"

Guess he does come from the future, then. "Can I.. take it then that you've heard of First Lantern Larfleeze?"

"Heard of..? Hehehehe…" Despair fills his chuckles. He raises his right hand to mantle his face. He's still breathing as if he's sprinted four hundred metres.

This should be easier than I was expecting. "So, if you've heard of the Orange Corps, then you should know what I can do to organic life forms who aren't helpful when I want them to be."

He looks me over, then looks down. "Yes. Ah, yes. Yes, I know."

"Glad to hear it. Now, I've got some questions for you. You can answer them as you are, or you can join the Orange Lantern Corps the unfun way, and then answer them. Please remember, I'm monitoring your brain wave patterns."

" What do you want to know?"

Ring, transmit to the team. "Let's start with: who's the guy in leathers?"

"I.. I.. I'm not sure. I didn't meet him before this evening. Klarion called him 'Onomatopoeia'."

"And what can he do?"

"He doesn't talk, he just makes noises and things happen. I don't understand how it works! I don't know anything about magic!"

Brain activity suggests that he's telling the truth. Now, the other half of the problem.

"Now, talk to me about Klarion."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:23 GMT -5

He makes a token struggle against the bonds, then gives up and looks down. Is he actually trying to spot Klarion from up here?

"Klarion is a Lord of Chaos, and one of the most powerful magic users on this planet."

What? Oh, hell. Ring, team status.

Kaldur's got both water bearers attached to Onomatopoeia, but before he can do anything with the connection the water freezes then shatters, knocking him back. Some sort of vaguely bear like creature made of mist is chasing M'gann, while Klarion cackles from behind it. Wallace picks himself off the floor and only just dodges another bolt of red lightning. He's limping. Artemis is pelting Klarion with arrows which twist and bend as they reach him. Most snap or fly into the wall, but one goes back towards her and forces her to dodge. Mister Nelson is just behind her, reaching for something. Why's he there?

Kon jumps through the mist creature, disrupting it for a moment. I see cuts on his chest and face.

!Help them!

Ring, shut down Kadabra's neck implant. Duration: twelve hours.

Kadabra gasps in shock. I do a quick check, but the implant doesn't do anything essential to his body.

"I'll be dropping you off now."

Ring, route.

At the moment, FTL is a bit rough on the people I bring with me. Kon walked it off, but M'gann asked if we could take the bioship next time. A momentary flicker of orange and Kadabra and I are hovering just over the grass next to the 'Welcome to Salem' sign. I let him drop. "I'll pick you up when this is over."

He's still a bit out of it, but he manages a-

"You can't!"

-before I transition back to the fight area.

A shock prod construct hits Onomatopoeia in the diaphragm. He's wearing armour, but NO ONE HURTS MY FRIENDS and he's knocked over and down. I spin in the air and a giant fan construct disperses the mist thing. I land next to Artemis.

"Where's Kadabra?"

"I shut down his tech and dropped him off on the edge of town."

Klarion smirks at me. I hadn't really noticed before, but the structure of his face isn't quite right. The hair horns could just be gel, but the angles in his head and his colouration are just subtly… Wrong. Something pretending to be Human, but not quite getting it.

I stick a bubble barrier around him. I've no way to know whether or not it'll actually do anything, but Mister Nelson did say that not having a soul shouldn't affect my constructs. Every little helps.

**It won't be enough.** Mister Nelson's voice.

"Oooooooooooh. Who gave you a kiddie decoder ring?" Klarion's decided that I warrant his full attention.

"No idea. Looks good on me though, doesn't it?"

"Eeeh, I've seen better. I don't think orange is your color."

Teekl rubs around his legs. Her eyes are solid red, and her fur has some decidedly odd markings. The versions of her I know about look more or less like a normal cat most of the time. She catches me looking at her and snarls, swishing a paw in my direction with claws extended. Usually I love cats, but I think I'll give this one a miss.

Klarion's eyes brighten for a moment. Both figuratively and literally. "You're empty."

What am I doing? Trying to hold his attention, I suppose. I don't particularly want to bait a spell I can't block with a barrier. I don't know what a 'Lord of Chaos' is except in Warhammer terms, but I'm guessing this is probably about my worst possible match up.

"Mum always told me to go before leaving the ho-."

Red lightning crackles around his left hand and my barrier dissolves like paint dust thrown into the wind. The sensory feedback I get from it feels like I thrust my forearm inside a big bag of uncooked rice. Lots of tiny packets of pressure from lots of directions at once. On the off chance, I pull the construct back, turn it into a razor sharp edge, and bring it around at chest height. This time, it's ink in water.

Uhoowf. Feedback from that one actually hurt a bit. Like sandpaper pressed into the skin of my left arm, then yanked hard along it. Calm. Breath. Focus on your need.

He is a threat to my ingroup. He has hurt my friends. I don't really mind a little small 'c' chaos myself, but comic Chaos is all about wanton destruction of the sort I find depressingly pointless. I want to build, and people like this live just to tear things down.

Shots from my particle cannon turn into filaments of light that swirl around him like streamers as they reach him. A chunk of concrete hurled by M'gann turns to gloop as it strikes him, then drips upwards and evaporates to nothing.

"Heeeey. My soo-oot."

Klarion makes a fist and oh hell. I remember the episode of Teen Titans where Raven forced Beast Boy to change from one shape to another. I hope that's what happened, because otherwise Klarion just broke M'gann's shoulders, hips, spine and neck twisting bits of her around.

She cries out, and Kon lunges in to catch her.

!Kill him!

I fire a wide orange coruscating beam at him while simultaneously building two Van de Graaff generator constructs on either side of him. Maybe avarice is inherently chaotic, or something? I ramp the generators up far beyond what normal physics allow, because mere electrons will do what I want them to. Then they discharge, a continual blinding stream of white so bright I put a shield around the target.

!M'gann!

There isn't much on Martian physiology in the part of the database I could access, but a brief application of orange light triggers her shapeshifting in the areas Klarion rearranged. Some breakages, but mostly things just aren't connected to each other properly. If she weren't in so much pain she'd do it herself, but with a little luck she should be able to sort herself out now.

There's a faint 'click' from behind me, and the Tower of Fate appears from wherever it was hiding.

When this is over, I'm going to bypass League security and get as much-.

"Hkk."

Cold. I feel cold.

The Van de Graaff generators collapse. The barrier's still up, but it's thinning and I can see a smiling, unhurt Klarion on the other side of it. I stagger slightly to the left, then catch myself. What is-?

Ghaaaagh!

There's a cone of glowing red nothing sticking out the left side of my chest, and from the feel of it an equal length inside as well!

"Aaaagh!"

Come on damn you, cut the pain!

The skin around in numbs, and for a moment I'm alright again. Breathing isn't working quite right, but the ring can just feed my cells directl-.

Eaughh!

I crumple, dropping to all fours on the ground, just able to raise my head enough to look at him.

"Ah ah aah." Klarion waves his right index finger at me as he shoves what is left of my barrier aside with his left hand. "No cheating."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:28 GMT -5

**Get him inside. The Tower's defenses…**

Everything's getting a bit peculiar. I can see Klarion walking forwards, step by step. There's a cat in his arms, and he's stroking its head. There's a sort of orange haze around, but it's not really…

Oweraghowowaaagh!

The pain comes from two places now, the left of my chest and my abdomen, a red cone in both of them. My armour's still there, for all the good it's doing. I've rolled over onto my side, and I'd have curled up in the foetal position if that didn't make it hurt more. Dully, I register the ring describing the physical damage the cones are doing.

I think I'm melting. It doesn't burn, but parts of my body are being torn into tiny shreds. I try to regrow them-

"Yaaaaghh ah ah ah!"

-and it gets worse as the new flesh is melted in turn.

My eyes are wet.

I'm lifted off the ground. It's not gentle, but compared to the other pain, it's nothing. I hear a shout-

"No! Come back here! He's mine, mine, MINE!"

-then I'm through a heavy wooden door and into a corridor of bare brick. We're… Going up some stairs.

Brick. That explains the cold, I suppose.

Wider corridor. I see a worried green face. Rounded, hard and bald, like a Martian's supposed to look. A two fingered hand laid on my chest becomes five fingered.

**You're going to be okay.**

Her head changes shape, back to normal Megan. Why doesn't she just leave it? Why won't she show me her real face?

The wall ahead of us peels away to reveal a living room. There's a large square rug on the floor, and a fireplace in the far wall. M'gann deposits me on a chaise longue, and I curl up again while Kaldur tends to Kon's cuts. Banda- No, no, focus, Kon needs you. The medical kit I put in subspace clatters to the floor next to him. Wallace looks shocked, his eyes moving from me to Kon to M'gann. He wants to help, but doesn't know how.

The broken remains of Artemis' bow hit the floor with a clatter. The.. whatever it's made of.. has exploded apart near one end. There's a small cut on her cheek, but I don't think that she's noticed it.

"Let's have a look at you." Mister Nelson gently pushes me onto my back. I grip the sides of the chaise longue. I shouldn't curl up. He's the only one around here who can fix this.

But it hurts.

"As I feared. This spell shouldn't last longer than a few seconds, but you've nothing to fight it with."

He moves out of my field of vision, and my eyes are drawn back to the two red spikes in my torso. For a moment, I wonder about transferring the ring to my mouth and just cutting away the damaged parts of my body. No, no, too risky. Might work, probably wouldn't.

Aghhuhuhuha.

I feel a hand on mine, which still hold the chaise in a death grip.

"Paul."

Ugh.

"Paul."

Insistent. I push my head back to look. M'gann.

"Not dead quite yet, M'gann. "

There's a blast of cold air, freezing really. A few flakes of snow waft across the room behind M'gann.

"I can try to turn off the pain telepathically."

I try shaking my head. I think it wobbles a bit.

"Ring… Ring can do that. Isn't working. Magic, ugh…"

I wince.

She presses her other hand against my cheek, and looks across to Mister Nelson. He's now carrying his walking stick, the metal handle glowing gold. He holds the shaft and points the metal end at me.

The red double ended cones rise slowly from my chest, a faint golden aura around them. It doesn't hurt worse, but now the ring's giving me an even clearer idea of what's been happening inside me. Without the ring, my stomach, liver and small intestine would be a write-off, along with most of my left lung. As it is… Ugh… They'll be more or less fixed in a few moments.

Once the cones are fully out Mister Nelson sweeps the cane around, taking them with him. He walks over to an empty area of the floor, and a pedestal topped with a large lump of crystal rises out of the floor. A brighter glow, and the cones sink into the crystal, trapped the hell away from me.

The pain's starting to subside. Come on, you practised this. Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

"Ah!"

According to the ring, I'm now more or less intact. There's still some pain, though I don't know whether it's an echo or if there's still something wrong with me. I release my grip on the chaise, smile at M'gann and then move to a sitting position.

"Thank you, M'gann, Mister Nelson."

"Don't be too grateful. I didn't get all of it. You're going to need someone to spend a great deal of time making sure that they've removed every last bit of it before you'll be fully well again."

Kon looks relieved. His t-shirt's off and his chest is covered in plasters and bandages.

Ring, photon beam.

A thin filament of orange arcs from my head over to his, where it expands into the sunlamp-like construct of Kryptonian well-being. I need a name for it. Rao's Beatitude? No, Rao's red, that wouldn't make sense. Don't know.

He closes his eyes and turns his face upwards towards it, breathing out in relief.

"What… What exactly.. cut up Superboy, then?"

"Onomatopoeia."

Kaldur's sombre. There's a joke in his answer, but I'll not be making it. I just remember who Onomatopoeia was in the comics. He was a nobody. Vocal tic, whatever weapons he could lay his hands on. Guns mostly, but I marked him down the intelligence scale on the grounds that he wasn't in it for money. Once pissed off the Joker by using him as a distraction. Hah, clown-sexual. But the fact is, there's no way he should be able to do anything much to our team. Certainly not from a standing start. Then again, I wasn't expecting this much in your face power from Klarion. Reality warping rituals I could understand, but no-selling me head on?

"How?"

"He just pointed at him and said 'ssshik'. Gotta be some kinda radiation weapon, programmed to respond to his voice."

Wallace, I don't need this right now. And by the look of it, neither does Artemis.

"What happened to believing in magic?"

"I decided to get serious when a guy started trying to kill us!"

"Then how do you explain the red lightning? Or the mist creature?"

"An advanced plasma manipulation device, and.. probably.. some kind of holographic system, using charged water vapour as the medium. Magic isn't real!"

M'gann looks downcast, and rubs the back of her neck. "Having my whole body twisted around felt pretty real to me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:37 GMT -5

That shuts Wallace up for a moment.

I should be patient. He hasn't had any regular contact with magic. It's a bit out-of-context for him.

"Wallace, any sufficiently well understood magic is indistinguishable from technology. I don't understand how those things happened. The way Doctor Roquette's nanobots work defies everything I thought I knew about the way matter works, but you don't see me complaining about it. I mean, look at this ring."

I wave my left palm at him. He isn't having it.

"A power ring is super advanced Guardian technology."

"Don't ever let the Controllers hear you call it that. Maltusian technology, thank you very much. And you're trying to make a distinction where no distinction exists. The Controllers understand the forces which ignorant magic users -ur, no offence Mister Nelson-"

He waves it off with a smile. "None taken."

"-manipulate through spell and ritual, in the same way that you understand radio waves. And they use that understanding to build things like this." I tap the ring with my right forefinger. "The way I think determines the strength of my constructs, but doesn't affect the power drain. Where's the power coming from?"

"Your lantern, and it gets stored in your ring."

"And how does it get into the lantern? There's no chemical or nuclear reactions going on in there, I checked when I was trying to work out how to build one."

He looks to the side, thinking hard. "I… dunno, but that doesn't mean there isn't an explanation."

"Of course not. There's an explanation for everything. Doesn't mean it's going to be simple, or obvious, or that it can be understood in terms of things you already know. Mister Nelson just pulled something out of my chest. For the moment, I'm prepared to take him at his word."

A jab of pain, and I wince. Even that was better than it was when the spell was in full effect, but a chunk of my left lung just got lysed. I restore it, but from what Mister Nelson said I'm going to assume that will keep on happening.

I think I just got invalided out of this mission. I'd assumed that couldn't happen. That I'd either be able to fix myself or I'd go down and either die or wake up in a hospital.

Ring, power level?

Nineteen percent remaining.

That's below my 'recharge now' level. Where was the expenditure? The particle cannon?

Fifty four percent of recent total expenditure used on physical repair.

Shiiiitt... That's a lot of power.

I think Wallace is following my reasoning. "Okay, but I still don't really… Uh. Fine." He shrugs. "So, what do we do now?"

My eyes switch between Kaldur and Mister Nelson. Kaldur's my team leader, but Mister Nelson's the one who actually knows what's going on. I think everyone else is thinking in the same way.

Kaldur takes in initiative. "Mister Nelson, is this Tower secure?"

"Should be. Klarion will probably be able to find a way in eventually now that he knows where it is, but I think we have a little breathing room."

"I mean no offence, but was there a reason why you did not engage him directly? I know of your deeds as Doctor Fate, and compared with…"

Mister Nelson smiles, and waves his left hand. "Oh, I'm not Doctor Fate. I'm just an old coat Fate used to put on, until my wife Inza convinced me there could be more to life." He gets out his watch, and this time my angle is such that I can just see that there's an old photograph in the top section. "Ah, she was a real pistol, that woman. Anywho, Klarion's after the Helmet of Fate. If he gets his sticky little mitts on it he'll turn the planet into his own personal playground of pandemonium."

Artemis isn't satisfied. "What'd you mean, you're not Fate?"

"The Helmet of Fate is the home of the spirit of Nabu, a Lord of Order, and ultimate enemy of someone like Klarion. When a person puts the Helmet on, Nabu gains control of their body, and can act on the material world through them. Without that link, he's almost completely defenseless."

Kaldur's already thinking through the problem. "Then we must recover the Helmet. Are you well enough to use it again?"

Mister Nelson sizes Kaldur up. "I'll have to be. Oh, don't worry. There's life in the old bones yet."

I need to ask… "Can I assume that you didn't make it to London?"

He shakes his head. "Ambushed as soon as I finished talking to that woman in New Orleans. Huckster, like I thought she would be. Huh, maybe I should of gone to London first."

Oh heck. Then I've sent Diana to talk to Misses Masters for nothing. I really hope Mister Constantine doesn't take it badly.

Aqualad draws his water bearers. "How far must we travel to reach the Helmet?"

"Not far. A short walk and an elevator ride."

I end the photon beam construct. Kon stretches his arms. He told me that it feels a bit like a warm, relaxing bath. The area of carpet around him has faded noticeably. I need to be more careful about that. I also pull one of his spare t-shirts from subspace and float it over to him. He takes it with a smile.

Mister Nelson walks to the fireplace, and the wall peels back to reveal…

The heck?

Thin stone pathways floating in a putrid green void. From the orientation, it looks like the direction of gravity depends on exactly where you are on the path. After about fifty metres the one leading away from this room appears to shift to vertical, and there's some kind of multi-directional junction.

Kaldur nods. Has he seen this sort of thing a lot? "Orange Lantern." He looks at me. "I am sorry, but given your injuries, and your susceptibility to magic attack-."

"You think I should stay here." He nods. "I agree. I'm not going to be able to help if Klarion can take me out with a thought."

"I suspect that the high level of background magic within the Tower's more arcane sections would also present a problem to you."

I nod.

"Ahhh..?" Artemis holds up her broken bow.

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:41 GMT -5

I raise the ring at the same time Mister Nelson raises his cane. We simultaneously stop and look at each other. He nods at me.

Ring, repair.

An orange aura holds the parts of her compound bow in place while the ring undertakes repairs. The severed carbon fibre is mostly still there, and transmuting the little extra needed from the air is no real obstacle. For a moment I consider enhancing the bow, but the change in weight and balance might affect her aim. Still need to do something with the arrows.

"I should be able to transmute some more trick arrows, if you think it'll help. I've also got a spare plasma pistol..?"

She shakes her head. "Thanks, but I'll stick with what I've got."

Mister Nelson taps his chin with the head of his cane, then raises it in her direction. It glows for a moment. "There. I can't promise much, but that should make it harder for Klarion or Onomatopoeia to affect your bow or arrows with magic."

She smiles. "I'm looking forward to the rematch."

Mister Nelson takes a few paces toward the bizarre stone path. "We'd best get moving. Time's a-wasting."

The others follow on behind, M'gann flying above them with an expression of wonderment on her face. Kon's bringing up the rear, and is looking back at me as the wall slides back into place. I wave, and cover my discomfort as a sudden spike of acidity melts a small part of my liver.

Ring…

And it's fine again.

Now what?

Ring, scan.

According to the ring, nothing exists in the whole universe outside this room. And it's not too sure about the room. I gingerly stand up, and walk over to the pedestal. The double ended cones float in the crystal. I don't feel anything from them. I carefully tap the top of it with my right forefinger. Solid. Doesn't really smell, either. I stare at the translucent red shapes. Now that they're out of me they don't really look that special. The area of red is sort of cloudy, in motion but never going beyond the bounds of the cone.

I don't understand what I'm looking at.

I step back, and wave the ring at the faded patch of carpet, restoring its colour. Then I pace, making two full circuits of the room while examining the walls and decorations in detail. There's a large painting of a woman I assume to be Inza Nelson on the wall over the fireplace. She looks young, maybe in her mid twenties, and the painting looks old. Wonder why there isn't something more recent? A photograph perhaps?

No electric lights. The wall brackets have candles and the fire appears to be coal. Not giving off any heat, but the room's still a comfortable temperature. Puts me in mind of Goldeneye for the N64, where the light in the room appeared to come from the lights, but would still be there if you destroyed them. There's a grandfather clock, but there are no hands or numbers on its face, and the pendulum is still. Probably a good thing, as I find ticking clocks quite uncomfortable to be around.

"Ring, charge?"

"Seventeen percent."

Liver and bow, and that's two percent gone. I lose translation at five percent. Flight at ten. Particle cannon already takes more power than I have.

I sit back down on the chaise longue.

I quite like the colour of the walls. Always been fond of purple.

I wonder what the emotion of a purple power ring would be? What's a bit like love and compassion? Generosity? Or am I just thinking that because of Rarity's mane?

Who can I get to sort out the residual damage from Klarion's spell? Diana said that she was going to speak to Magala anyway. Is this her sort of thing? I do need to actually speak to John Constantine now that I've involved him in this. Not sure it's up his street though, and he does present certain… risks. Getting Mister Zatara to have a go would probably involve least work, and if I remember correctly his work commitments decrease toward the end of the tourist season.

Oh. Ooooh. That's a better idea. I need to test the flexibility of Captain Cornwall Junior's magic abilities anyway, and my dossier's about as complete as it can get without a face to face meeting. And I doubt that he can make the situation worse. Nothing I've found suggests that the men of his family -and it is just the men who put on the costume- have that sort of talent. I'm not quite sure what 'realigning my natural energies' would do, but I imagine it'll be either nothing, or something useful. Now, how to go about introduc-.

There's a sort of ringing sound, and Mister Nelson's ghost appears in the centre of the room. It's… He's.. a translucent gold colour, with different tones for his suit.

Oh, hell.

I stand.

"Mister Nelson, what happened?"

Oh, that's stupid. Obviously he died.

The ghost shakes his head.

"This is not Kent Nelson. You are speaking to the intelligence of this tower. Kent asked me to inform you that Klarion and Onomatopoeia are inside the Tower, and are attempting to intercept your team."

Relief.

"How did they get in?"

The projection raises its hand, and an image forms of the outside of the tower. I see my team retreat through the open door, which then closes and vanishes. Klarion waves his hands forward, and the wall glows red.

"What's he doing?"

"He's forcing the Tower to remain linked with Earth, rather than retreating to the Nexus of the Subtle Realms."

Onomatopoeia steps forward, past Klarion and nearly touching the wall.

"'cli-clunk.'"

The door reappears, and Klarion lowers his arms.

"'sssuuuih. creeeek.'"

Klarion claps as the door swings open, and Onomatopoeia stands aside to allow him entry before following him up the stairs. The image vanishes.

"Are they heading here? Because that would be rather bad for me."

"The Tower detected their hostility and has attempted to deal with them. They were redirected via a more.. hostile route. Unfortunately they have proven rather adept at overcoming obstacles."

"Does the team need my help?"

"Kent asked me to inform you that your assistance would not be required."

What can I do?

"Probably wouldn't be much use anyway. Thank you for letting me know."

What can I do?

"Could you please show me what's happening now?"

"Of course."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:48 GMT -5

A new image forms.

They're running across an intersection. Artemis pauses to launch an arrow at another pathway, at ninety degrees to their own.

"'fooosh.'"

Not quite sure what that noise was supposed to do, but it didn't work and Onomatopoeia takes a quick hardening foam arrow to the left shoulder. Trick arrows may look silly, but they still move fast and have some mass behind them. That will have hurt. He twists, trying to get his coat off even as the foam expands. Perhaps realising that it's hopeless, he wiggles his right arm at the team's path.

"'crack crack crack crack crack.'"

M'gann frantically tries telekinetically hurling him out of line of sight. He sails off the platform he was on, bounces off the thin edge of the next and hurtles down… Um, away, out of sight. But the damage has been done and the team's pathway starts to come apart.

Meanwhile, Kaldur and Kon are trying to cover Mister Nelson. Kaldur's making shields with his water bearers, and Kon's got hold of a golden tower shield from somewhere. Red lightning evaporates water and chars metal while Klarion laughs maniacally and Teekl stares intently.

I can't do anything. I can't help.

Mister Nelson trips, and Wallace zooms forward to help him. Together they hobble towards a great golden bell, using it to take shelter from Klarion's onslaught. Mister Nelson strikes it twice with the head of his cane and it glows with golden light. He and Wallace step into it and disappear as the platform comes apart beneath them.

"No no NO!"

Klarion leaps from his pathway, falling towards the bell in a way which appears to defy gravity. Can he fly? Or is it the fact that he's in his element here, in a place suffused with magic? He strikes it and passes through as the surrounding walkways break into chunks.

Kaldur and Kon are holding on to one of the larger pieces, but they've got no way to get to the bell. The lump Artemis ended up on is spinning wildly relative to the rest, but with gravity working as it does in there it doesn't seem to be a problem for her. Motion sickness might be, as her eyes are closed. M'gann's floating freely, dodging smaller bits of rubble. She misses one, and it strikes her in the abdomen and knocks her back.

What can I do?

"Tower, can you open some sort of portal to them?"

"None of the pieces of walkway near them are large enough to support a doorway."

They're not in immediate danger with Onomatopoeia out of the picture.

"Alright, can you manifest from one of the smaller pieces and get M'gann to drag a large bit over?"

"That is within my abilities."

"Where have Mister Nelson and Wallace gone?"

The view shifts to a large platform surrounded by crenellations. It takes me a moment to realise that it's the roof. The Helmet is floating in the air next to Wallace and Mister Nelson. For a moment I am convinced that we've won, before Klarion materialises and blasts Mister Nelson in the chest. He staggers, but gets a dome shield up before collapsing to the ground.

Wallace is the only one with access to the Helmet. Even if he puts it on, I'm not all that confident.

What would John Constantine do?

Oh yes. Oh, that's beautiful.

"Tower, can you open a portal between here and the roof?"

"My instructions only prevent me from transporting you into the Tower's interior. There is no portal from here to the roof, but now that the bell has been rung there is an elevator that goes directly there."

"Open the elevator, then work on evacuating the rest of my team."

"Confronting Klarion in your present condition is extremely unwise."

"Giving Wallace the Helmet of Fate doesn't exactly score prizes in the cleverness category either, but it's what we've got."

The projection appears to think for a moment, then flickers. An outline of gold appears on the wall to my left, then solidifies into a lift door.

I run to press the 'open' button. Why does it have to be a nineteen thirties style lift? What's wrong with Dolmen Gates, or fairy rings? Magic had teleportation before machinery. So slow!

It opens, I lurch inside, spin around and press the 'roof' button. The door closes again and I see the Tower projection vanish with a smile in my direction.

The numbers above the door begin to count up as I ready my approach. I can't block Klarion's attacks even at full power. I'm now at…

Ring?

Seventeen percent.

Right. How to do this with low power?

Ring, prepare Ready in Sixty Four Directions Stance and the random evasive pattern of your choice.

Compliance.

Since I mostly fight from the air, a Lantern version of the Exalted charm Ready in Eight Directions Stance wouldn't be all that much help. My version expands my awareness in all directions, as well as augmenting my mind so that I can actually process that sort of volume of information. It also requires surprisingly little energy, though in testing I ended up walking into things a lot after I turned it off.

Floor eleven. How many floors are there? What's the betting the roof is floor twelve A? No, hang on, the other buttons go up to eighteen. So, nineteen? Is that significant? It's a prime number isn't it?

Urgh! Just in case I forgot, there goes the chaos magic. An allergic reaction in the intestine that time. Much simpler to repair.

Ring?

Sixteen percent.

Ffffffffffff…..

No, no, calm. It's fine. I doubt I'd get out intact if Klarion won anyway. Maybe I should start keeping my lantern on the bioship? What happened to the bioship anyway? The plan was to get Mister Nelson out of here, not hang around.

Floor eighteen. Might be a slightly larger gap between here and the next floor. I shuffle. Random evasion involves short FTL jumps and momentum control to enable rapid changes in air direction. No risk of motion sickness, but it is a little distracting. On the other hand, I really only need to issue one command and then either hide behind the wall or behind Fate. Assuming Wallace has actually put the thing on, of course.

Shit. If he hasn't, I might have to. Would that even work?

"Bing!"

The lift doors open. Doctor Fate -Nabu- is in the air and holding Klarion off with a giant golden ankh shield while Klarion throws red fire at him.

"-went out of fashion in the twentieth century!"

But he's not my target. This isn't the Cell Games, and I'm not as tough as Vegeta.

I spot my target just to Klarion's right, even as the Chaos Lord turns his head in my direction.

"Ring, assimilate the cat."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:51 GMT -5

I love cats. All of them. No matter how cruel they clearly are or how little affection they feel for me. When I'm out walking I'll routinely stop when I see a cat and try to persuade it to let me stroke it. Not sure where that started, though I suppose my Nan's now long dead cat Muffy was a good deal friendlier than my Gran's Chihuahua, Fang. Heck, the cats owned by their neighbour Mister Lusty were friendlier. Sparky and Bunty I think their names were. Gosh, they must be fifteen years dead now, at least. I've even got time… No, I even had time for the cat owned by my neighbour in the house next to the one I owned before coming here. Vicious thing. Never seen me and not tried to take a swipe at me, even if it was inside my house at the time.

I don't want a witch boy. But I do want a cat. I want a cat a lot.

I'm holding my left hand outstretched with my palm toward my target. The orange beam travels straight from the ring. The beam is much brighter than when I've used the ring for cutting or kinetic force, the orange colour richer and more intense. Teekl's facing Nabu, fur erect and tail extended. It hits her on her left hip, and there's a sort of orange ripple, like dropping a pebble in a pot of orange paint. Then the orange glow coats her fur, and she yelps.

"Identity Theft in progress. Two percent complete."

Doooooooooooooooooooooodge!

"No!"

My FTL hop took me back behind the elevator and upwards into the sky. Klarion broke off his attack on Nabu to throw fire in my direction, but I'm far faster than his reaction shot. Heh, this might not be too-

"Identity Theft ability interrupted by FTL transfer. Resuming."

Teekl takes a shot up the arse.

I can't FTL? Oh, that isn't good.

"Identity Theft one percent complete."

Random dodge random dodge!

"Orange Lantern. Your presence here is not required."

"Get. Away. From my cat!"

Fuck both of you!

Klarion misses with two bolts of red lightning, then spends a moment charging a fireball. Nabu drops his ankh shield, points both arms forward and hits him with a golden ankh shot before he can finish. He staggers and drops the fireball.

That's not a fireball! It's a face! It's a flying burning face! Dodge the face dodge the face!

The Tower's a blur. I don't bother trying to see what's happening, I'm moving too fast to make sense of it. My Stance construct makes me aware of incoming attacks, but I just connect the data to the autododge.

"Identity Theft six percent complete."

This is going to take all night.

**Attacking his familiar is a sound strategy, but your vulnerability to magic renders you naught but a liability in this conflict.**

Is M'gann doing that, or can Nabu do it himself?

**You wanna try doing something helpful, like keeping Klarion off me until I'm done? Or shielding me yourself?**

With no real cover I've moved away from the Tower to make directed shots harder. Klarion takes another ankh to the face and disintegrates, before reintegrating on the other side of the Tower and summoning a swarm of the Tower's own bricks to fly after me. Between that and the BURNING FUCKING FACE I'm not liking my chances in the air.

Ring?

"Identity Theft eleven percent complete."

Oh, come on!

Four golden ankhs spring up around Klarion, boxing him in while a golden beam strikes him from above. Again, he disappears, but his projectiles are still in motion. Would they stop if the caster died or was forced away? I know some spells keep going after their creator's death.

A portal, black and lined with red opens behind me, and Klarion drops down onto one of the larger brickwork lumps behind me. He conjures a giant glowing red hand and takes a swing. I barrel roll out of the way.

Oh, that's it.

A blur as I loop the Tower once to lead the pursuit away, then dive for the Tower roof. I take position under where Nabu floats in my friend's body.

"That shield any time you like!"

Klarion steps off the rubble as it barrels towards us. Nabu spares me a withering glance, before lowering himself to the ground and summoning a circular golden barrier between us and the attack.

Okay, leave the defence to him. Why is my attack so slow? Idiot, you're not focusing your avarice. You want a cat, what makes you want a cat?

Two small sleeping bundles of black fur huddled up on my knee for warmth. In a year, Bubbles and Magic will be too big for this. Too argumentative too, they really go for each other before Bubbles establishes his dominance. But for now, in a strange house away from their familiar cattery, and their mother, aunt, brothers and sisters, they can be content with me.

"Identity Theft twenty five percent complete."

Teekl, left behind in the frenzy of activity, looks in confusion between Klarion and myself.

"Maow?"

The fire-face comes in. Nabu spreads his arms, and two ankhs form a wedge, splitting the face in half. Then they flare and it collapses to nothing.

Hampden Park's railway station. The tiny tortoiseshell that spends so much of its time hanging around the travellers climbs onto the metal bench, peers at me for a moment, then sits on my lap.

"Identity Theft thirty seven percent complete."

Ring, charge?

Twelve percent.

Doable, as long as Nabu doesn't fuck up.

Klarion gestures, and a huge arch of stone rises up to crush us. Without thinking I grab Wallace and pull us out of its path.

"Unhand me at once."

Oh. Right.

"Sorry."

I've lost sight of Klarion, though my link to Teekl is still in place.

I'm sleeping on my aunt's settee. Tomorrow is Christmas, and we're spending it with them. It's chilly, and Bulmer and Polo decide that if I think it's alright to sleep on their spot then they're perfectly at liberty to settle on me.

"Identity Theft fifty one percent complete."

I can feel Teekl. I turn my head to the left and I know she does too. In my mind I can see what she sees.

Teekl, reduce Klarion's power.

She doesn't want to. He's fun, and treats other people like she treats mice. Always someone new to toy with when you're with Klarion.

"You can't have my cat!" Klarion lunges out of a portal, hands wreathed in red flame. Nabu throws up a golden circular barrier, which flickers and shimmers as Klarion lets rip at point blank range.

He's smiling. Why is he smiling?

My Stance alerts me to the attack and I'm pulling myself aside even as the cluster of red lightning shards hits Nabu in the side, knocking him across the roof.

With him out of the way Klarion's glowing red eyes lock onto me, and his unfriendly smile lengthens into a predatory grin.

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:54 GMT -5

I'm sitting on the floor, watching dominant Klarion stalk towards his prey, hands crackling with red light. A man and a woman. They're dressed as puritans, and are backing away from him with expressions of horror on their faces. He's dressed in the same style. The male says something, and Klarion responds by raising his arms and hurling the red light forward. Their bodies are obscured for a moment, and their scent becomes strange. As I continue to watch, the visible outline inside the light shifts and contracts while Klarion laughs maniacally. He thrusts his hands forward, and the light aura collapses as he pulls out a pair of fun prey. He holds them up by the tails for a moment, then throws them to me.

…And back in the room.

I'm behind the stone arc before Klarion can release his spell. What the hell did I just see? I was close to the ground. I was looking up as Klarion turned two people into mice, then threw them.. to.. Teekl?

Teekl, was that you?

Fun with orange man? Fun hunt?

A short and very fast flight gets me over the edge of the battlements. The line between myself and Teekl is still a give away to my position, so I create six others radiating off from her in different directions.

Okay, I know from Dex-Starr in the comics and from my own experiences with dogs that power rings are perfectly capable of translating animal communications. I turn that ability off whenever possible. There's only so many times you can hear 'Ball! Ball! Gotta get the ball! Gotta get the ball!' before it gets really annoying. But I've never had images before. Teekl can send images? That's blooming useful that is.

"Identity Theft fifty nine percent complete."

"There you are!"

Move move move move move!

Doesn't this thing have a silent mode!

Klarion perches on a crenellation, hands at his sides. A dark portal opens in front of him, and six red outlined tendrils emerge from the aperture. They wiggle in the air for a moment, and then extend in my direction faster than I can move. I duck, dodge and try to get them in each other's way. One still comes close to latching on, and I'm forced to block it.

Warning. Eleven percent power remaining.

The tendril slams into the small barrier, coils up against it and explodes in a surge of power.

"Nabu!"

I take cover next to the outside of the tower wall, baiting the five remaining tendrils for a moment before yanking myself over the rim. No luck. They can turn as fast as I can. As I fly past the centre of the roof I get a brief view of Nabu pelting Klarion with small ankhs. Hopefully that's taken care of. Alright, idea. I grab a pile of the brick lumps that Klarion sent after me earlier while forming a rail gun. Rail guns are fairly ring energy efficient, at least at the power levels appropriate to an inhabited area. Iron pellets from subspace strike each of the tendrils in turn while I slam the mass of rubble into the portal from which they are still emerging.

"Aaaaaghh!"

Klarion drops to his knees, grasping his head. The tendrils more or less shrugged off the iron strikes, slowing but healing the holes my projectiles made with no lasting damage. The portal itself however seems to have been the weak spot, destabilising and collapsing and taking the tendrils with it as it vanishes. Huh. Never would have thought that reading Titan would actually ever have practical value.

Nabu raises his arms in the most melodramatic fashion possible, and another golden ankh materialises around Klarion, pinning his neck, arms and chest. Nabu's attention turns back to me.

"Finish your work."

I halt in the air, still braced for another attack as I search my memories for more happy cat videos. Or maybe that's the wrong approach…

The keeper forces the male tiger to remain in the ditch in concealment while another keeper leads the female around to the rear of the herd. When the female makes herself visible, the gazelle flee straight towards the male, who goes into a frenzy of killing. Reintroduction into the wild will go as planned.

Orange man? Reason?

Klarion hunt alone, only hunt prey he can catch. Orange man hunt with whole pride. Work together to catch better prey.

I envisage the scene on Santa Prisca, with several notable supervillains caught by my team at our mercy. Our fight with Mister Twister, working together to trick him into a position of vulnerability and then pulling him apart.

Wait. Is a house cat going to understand that idea? I seem to remember reading that they only hunt alone, even when they live in colonies. Damn. Er, okay…

I'm kneeling down between my house and my local supermarket while a couple of local cats nose around my shopping bags. The younger one decides to climb on my knees to better rub against my chest.

"Identity Theft sixty six percent complete."

Teekl hunt with Klarion.

Teekl hunt with Klarion, or Klarion hunt while Teekl watch?

Her head turns a little to the side. She doesn't like that idea.

I double check that Klarion's still being held in place, then drop to the roof just in front of Teekl. I crouch, and hold out my right hand while narrowing my eyes in what I understand is an affectionate gesture for cats. She sniffs at me. She's mostly orange at this stage, but I can still see fleshy cat under the glow.

"Teekl, NO!"

Klarion changes. His arms and legs lengthen while remaining stick thin. His fingers extend, gaining extra joints. His eyes shrink, and start to glow red.

The ankh holding him snaps.

Ah, crap.

His spine extends.

"Nabu, you wanna do s-?"

Klarion envelopes Nabu in his left hand, runs red lightning through him for a moment, then hurls him to the ground and raises his right foot, an expression of glee on his distended face.

Grab.

Nabu gets deposited behind me. "Arh." He's awake, but that attack appears to have done appreciable damage. Can he heal himself? He slowly pushes himself up to a crouch, eyes fixed on Klarion.

Klarion only has eyes for me. "How can you be so annoying?!"

Klarion pulls his arms back, and a swarm of red dots appear around him. Sweeping his hands forward, the dots turn into a volley of red beams. Most head toward me, but with the Stance construct still in effect I just about manage to dodge them. Nabu angles himself to reduce his profile and creates a circular golden shield, which blocks them.

"Aaagh!"

Klarion raises his right hand into the air and brings it down in an arc, a wave of red fire flying in its wake. Again, I manage to dodge. Then Klarion stops.

"Uh oh."

Teekl didn't manage to dodge. The force of the attack knocked her several metres. It looks like rolling on the ground put the flames out. Or maybe she's resistant to chaos magic by now?

"Teekl?" Klarion raises a finger to his mouth. He looks genuinely nervous, an expression completely at odds with his current appearance. "Teek? I didn't mean it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
20:57 GMT -5

Teekl rolls onto her chest, shakes her head, then gingerly gets to her feet. All the while her eyes are fixed on Klarion.

"Roawwwwwwwwwww."

Her fur stands on end.

The ring jolts.

"Identity Theft eighty percent complete."

Her ears go back. Her tail lashes.

"Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

"Identity Theft ninety one percent complete."

"Hehkkhkhhk!"

Mouth open, teeth on display. Teekl prepares to attack.

"Identity Theft complete. Teekl of Witch World, you belong to the Orange Lantern Corps."

There's a brief flare of orange light as the fleshy cat becomes an unusually solid looking construct. The markings on her side are still in place, but the ones on her face have moved to assume the form of the orange sigil. Then she starts to grow.

Teekl, cut off his power first.

"No." Klarion shrinks down, his monstrous form fading. "No. No." The red glow vanishes from his eyes. He actually looks scared. "Teekl? Teek?"

"Rawawowowow!"

"Ah!" He frantically scrabbles around in his pockets as Teekl -now the size of a lion- pads forward, teeth bared. He finds something, and makes eye contact with me. "You took Teekl away from me! I don't know how you did this, but I'll get you!"

He holds up what looks like a small stone with a glowing shape carved into it, and throws it to the ground. There's a brief blast of wind and Teekl charges forward, but it's too late. He's gone.

Teekl pads over to the area he was standing in, and sniffs it. I smell it as she does. Klarion's scent contains far more fear than she remembers smelling for a very long time. She looks back at me, and I get a brief moment of confusion as I see me looking at her and her looking at me.

Ring, block sensory input from Teekl unless I specifically request otherwise.

Compliance.

"You severed a Lord of Chaos from the source of his power." Nabu is floating in the air just off the ground. Puts me in mind of how Black Adam held himself to reinforce the idea that he was separate from the mere Humans around him. "I did not think it could be done."

"Is it permanent?"

"Unlikely, though it will take him some time to find an appropriate anchor to serve as the cat's replacement."

Teekl's walking across the Tower roof. She's returned to her normal size, and is sniffing something…

Oh.

I walk over to Mister Nelson's body. I scan it to make sure, but he's fairly obviously dead.

Damn.

Teekl stands on his chest, circles around twice and then lays down. "Teekl, no. Come here."

I reach down and gently pick her up to hold her against my chest. Her coat feels normal, despite its new colouration. I rub her head, and lift up Mister Nelson's body.

PAIN!

The ring keeps me upright while it does repairs. This time it was my normal stomach acids turning into something much stronger. A chunk of my body dissolved.

Warning. Nine percent power remaining.

Chaos spell pulling me apart. Lord of Order behind me.

I turn around to where Nabu floats.

"Nabu. Hate to be a bother, but Klarion used a rather unpleasant spell on me earlier, and taking Teekl doesn't seem to have turned it off. Would you mind-?"

He reaches up and removes his Helmet. His blue and gold costume disappears immediately, returning Wallace to his normal clothing. Wallace drops a metre to the ground and lands lightly.

"Kid Flash. Glad to have you back with us, but I was really hoping that Nabu could do something about that.. spell.. residue.. in my chest..?"

His eyes go from Mister Nelson's body to the floor. "He almost.. almost didn't let me go."

"Who didn't?"

"Nabu."

Oh.

He holds the Helmet up and looks at it for a moment.

I don't remember any version of Nabu who actually stole unwilling hosts.

"He wants someone to wear him badly enough that he'll just steal bodies? We'd never accept that."

"I don't think he cares."

Wallace tucks the Helmet under one arm, crosses the Tower roof and picks up something. Mister Nelson's watch. He walks over to where I'm floating his body and places it on his chest before folding his arms across it. I ensure that they stay in place.

I glance at the somehow still intact lift.

"We should… We should probably get back down."

"Yeah. I think Nabu did something to Onomatopoeia. Stuck him somewhere."

"Good."

"Mister Nelson.. he offered to stay inside the Helmet to keep Nabu company. That was the only reason he released me."

"Is that bad?"

"He put off.. going on to wherever his wife is. For me."

"Well, I… We'll just have to find a new host quickly then."

A long term coma patient maybe? Or someone suicidal? This doesn't sound like a job anyone should take up.

"Nabu didn't treat Mister Nelson like that back in the forties. What changed?"

"He got stuck on a shelf for fifty years."

Makes sense.

"And now we have to leave him there, because he won't accept going back there. I wonder if Lords of Order have a concept of irony?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
21:57 GMT -5

"Soahc esir!"

Mister Zatara holds his gloved left hand over my bare chest. We're in the medical unit. No one else has any serious injuries, though Kaldur needed some stitches and Mister J'onzz gave M'gann a very careful examination after hearing what Klarion did to her. Kon got some medical tape, but he heals fast when exposed to sunlight and we put some light bulbs in an old storeroom near his quarters which are nearly as good.

Teekl's curled up on the next bed over. She tried laying next to me, but got annoyed by all of the people. Just Mister Zatara and myself left in here now. I imagine that Batman will be asking me some rather pointed questions about her very shortly.

Tiny fragments of red rise from my torso and hover next to Mister Zatara's hand.

"Yfillun."

They disintegrate and disappear.

It turned out that the reason everyone didn't leave by bioship was that someone -they couldn't tell whether it was Klarion or Onomatopoeia- attacked her when she came in to land while stealthed. M'gann had to send her away before they completely destroyed her. I went from low power to vapours repairing the damage to her left side for our journey back, and I was sweating more than a little by the time I got to my room to recharge the ring.

Red Tornado took Mister Nelson's body from me. Wallace repeated his story about Mister Nelson's soul staying in the Helmet. Wallace kept holding on to the Helmet the whole way back. I hadn't really thought about it, but that might be his first exposure to violent death.

There's going to be a funeral. Two, actually. Superhero life being what it is his family will perform the actual burial, and we'll go along later to pay our respects. I feel a bit weird about it. I didn't really know him. Turning up for a memorial with two of his old friends seems… odd.

Donna went home. Diana's here, but she's in the main room arranging for Mister Nelson's family to collect his body. Presumably they know about his superhero work? She never found John Constantine, though she said that she signed an autograph for Gemma Masters.

"Soahc esir."

This time the red shards resist, coming out more slowly. They stop a few centimetres from my skin. Mister Zatara's hand shakes.

Ow!

The spell collapses, and the chaos energy re-enters my body. "I am sorry, Paul, but I do not think that I can remove any more of the Witch Boy's magic."

Thought that would be a bit too easy. "Don't worry. I appreciate what you've been able to do. What do you think what's left will be able to do to me?"

His hand rubs his chin. "I cannot say with any degree of certainty. Chaos magic is by its very nature difficult to predict. But, it should be less than what you experienced during your second fight with Klarion."

"Is there any way to change what it will do?"

"Perhaps, but only within the bounds of the original spell. It will always be harmful to you. Diana told you that she plans to take you to visit Magala on Themyscira tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but there's someone else I wanna try first. Could you… Alter it so the effect is less, but constant? I should be able to suppress the pain from low level damage but I don't want to risk suddenly getting a serious injury while I'm on duty."

He looks a little puzzled. "If you want. I suppose there's a certain value in predictability, but I strongly recommend that you attempt to have the remainder removed as soon as possible."

I hold up my hands in surrender. "No fear."

"Very well then. Soahc cigam skaep nettalf!"

Ow. Ow.

It isn't too bad. More in line with a modest cramp, and the ring repairs the ongoing damage as it happens.

"Thank you."

He smiles slightly. "Before I go, I should ask. Did Kent give any indication of what he wanted us to do with the Helmet of Fate?"

"He wanted someone to take over. He told me that you'd already turned it down."

He doesn't quite wince, but he does turn his head to the side for a moment. "Yes. I did not like the idea of giving my body over to Nabu."

"Yeah, Wallace… Doesn't sound like Nabu feels like sharing any more, and I'm not sure whoever it was in New Orleans would have felt any differently than you do."

"Diana said that she and Donna were following up a lead in Liverpool. I do not know of any practitioners of the mystic arts in that city."

Idiot.

Zatara looks at me curiously.

"You think he had someone in mind?"

"I.. recommended someone. I… Now we know what Nabu was thinking, I doubt he'd have taken it."

"Who was it?"

Shit.

He's noticed that I'm hesitating.

"John Constantine."

His face freezes. He knows him then, and he doesn't like him. It can't be about Zatanna, she's fourteen. Ah well, Zatara's decent enough that he won't take it out on me.

"Thinking about it, if there was a man who could get one over on a Lord of Order, heh, and might try on principle…"

He's frowning. "I am somewhat surprised that you know of him."

I shrug. "I've been trying to learn about magic. His name came up, I investigated… The official version of what happened in Newcastle is total nonsense, by the way."

He considers it for a moment. "Do you mean to say that Kent was going to give the Helmet of Fate, to him?"

"No, he was going to check up on Mister Constantine himself, then maybe ask him about it. Got the impression he was getting a bit desperate."

He nods. "I suppose he was."

"What's going to happen to the Helmet now? I think Wallace just wants to stick it in the trophy cupboard, but that doesn't seem... really.."

"That… Will be a matter for careful consideration." He nods to me. "I wish you a speedy recovery."

 

[Mr Zoat]

19th August
22:01 GMT -5

He turns and leaves, nearly bumping into M'gann at the door. After a mutual apology she walks in. I vest myself and swing around into a sitting position with my legs over the side of the bed. She looks… worried for some reason. Head slightly bowed, tension in the shoulders. Is she mimicking Human body language, or do Martians show things in the same way? Has she just learned that here?

"Hi M'gann. How are you doing?"

"How am I doing? I'm not the one who had chunks of raw chaos magic sticking out of my chest!"

"Oh, I know I'm not fine, but I'm not dying, and there's a good chance I can get fully repaired."

Teekl looks up, sleepily. "Mrw?"

Teekl, come here.

She gets to her feet, and takes a moment to stretch out.

M'gann grabs the chance to avoid what she came here to talk about. "Is there a reason why you're creating a cat construct?"

I raise my left hand. "No orange line means I'm not maintaining her. When I turn something into a construct it just.. stays there."

"You can turn things into constructs?"

"Some things. It's permanent, so I haven't really wanted to test it."

Teekl jumps onto my bed, and walks over to face M'gann. She leans forward and sniffs the air. M'gann reaches out towards her.

"How did you know that doing this to her would cut Klarion off from his magic?"

"I heard of a case where a wizard.. beat an enemy magic user by doing something similar."

M'gann's hand is now within Teekl's sniffing range. She presses her nose against it. "Who was that?"

"His name is John Constantine."

"Oh! The man you told Mister Nelson about."

"That's the guy."

Teekl sits back, and M'gann goes to stroke her head. "Is he a wise and noble wielder of the arcane mysteries?"

…

Um, how to put this…

"I'd describe him more as 'cunning' and 'well intentioned'. Pretty sure he could do the job, but I don't think Mister Zatara likes him, and it looks like the League will be deciding what happens to the Helmet."

Teekl's tail flicks, and she dawks M'gann, who snatches her hand back. M'gann flashes me an annoyed look. "Hey!"

"Wasn't me! She's still mostly her, and I got the impression that she grew up on a farm. Not entirely domesticated. Stroke at your own risk."

M'gann rubs her injured hand, her face sliding back into her earlier expression of unease.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong? You just.. look a bit.."

She's looking at her feet.

!Support your teammate!

I stand, put my best friendly smile on my face and my right hand on her shoulder.

"M'gann, what's wrong?"

"When you were… When we were carrying you inside the Tower, I could hear what you were thinking. About my face."

What did I..?

"I was pretty out of it. I don't really remember, and if I thought anything offensive-."

"No. No, it wasn't that."

She finally looks up at me. "You were thinking that you were sad that I haven't shown you my-."

She stops, and looks over her shoulder at the still shut door. She wants privacy? Okay then.

Ring, block all observation devices in this room.

Compliance.

"My Martian face. You thought it meant I don't trust you."

Ah. "It's not… I know you trust me, I just.. I'd like to think that you feel able to show me that. If you don't want to, that's fine. It's not a problem for me. I know roughly what you look like anyway."

"Could.. could you keep the door shut, please?"

Ring, do it.

An orange line extends from my left foot, runs across the floor and highlights the door.

"Actually… You don't. When you showed me what you think Martians look like, in the kitchen, I was.. I was just so worried that you found out I didn't think about it. But, when I thought about it later I realized that the image you showed me wasn't all that accurate."

Oh. "It still doesn't matter, I wasn't thinking straight."

"No. You.. you were right. There's no reason-" She takes a step back. **-not to show you.**

Her hair retreats into her head, which expands, becoming squarer. Her arms, legs and torso lengthen while her living clothing pulls back across her skin, leaving just the red X. Not that she has anything to conceal in this form, as far as I can tell. Her arms terminate in the same two fingers I felt at the Tower, and her feet have three webbed toes. Her… carapace? Is hard and green, with softer parts in dull lilac. There's a membrane of some kind between her upper arms and the side of her chest. Her skull like face has some sort of fleshy bulge projecting from the back, but that can't be the source of her telepathy as she certainly doesn't have that in Human form. Her natural posture in this form appears to be bent over, knuckle walking, and she's quite a lot larger than a Human.

I suppose she really isn't a White Martian here.

It… She looks odd, like this, but honestly it isn't repulsive. I place my left hand on her right forearm. No, that won't be enough. I float up until my face is level with hers, and rest my forehead against her forehead. Next, I run my hands along the hard ridges under her eyes.

**See? Not so bad, is it?** I allow her to feel every part of my reaction.

**I suppose not.**

She doesn't quite sound convinced. She lifts her left hand and clasps her right arm, a nervous gesture I recognise from her Human form.

**Did the others see this when we entered the Tower? I triggered your shapeshifting to try and undo Klarion's attack, but I seem to remember-.**

**No, I didn't change all the way, and the others thought that it was caused by Klarion.**

Makes sense, I suppose.

**M'gann, I feel truly privileged that you have shown me this part of yourself. I'll keep it secret for as long as you want me to, but I say again that I think you'll find our team mates much more accepting than you appear to think.**

**I… Maybe. But I don't think I'm ready to do that yet. I can show you because you sort of knew anyway, but…**

**You don't need to explain it to me.**

I'm so glad that she decided to do this.

!M'gann Mine!

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August
10:02 GMT

My body is telling me that it's five o'clock in the morning, and I don't know enough about my body clock to use the ring to reset it.

I'm in Truro, Cornwall, sitting at a picnic table outside a pub called The Builders Arms. The sign depicts four arms radiating from a centre point, each holding a tool of the trade. The school summer holidays are still in full swing here and in a few hours this place will be full of tourists getting lunch. The weather's just about good enough for my customary jeans and vest combo, and I've got my environmental shield set to minimum. The sigils on my clothing are visible, but they aren't glowing and so aren't attracting any attention.

I'm here to finally meet Robert Marrack, fourteen years of age and better known in the West Counties as Cornwall Boy. It turns out that I was mistaken when I first looked him up; he isn't called Captain Cornwall. Golden Crust Pasties just have a poorly laid out website. Getting hold of him was easy enough: he has a mobile phone, I have a power ring. Persuading him to meet me was fairly straightforward as well. I told him that I had a minor magic related problem that I hoped he could help me with. Respect to him though, he actually checked that I didn't want to speak to his father and had the sense to suggest a public place to meet.

If he can't help me with the residue from Klarion's spell then I'm getting that trip to Themyscira after all. I'll conduct the interview anyway, though I will need to be very clear that this is merely an information gathering exercise and isn't an offer of a position.

I think Diana was joking about me needing to wear a bag over my head.

Teekl seems to accept being around the team, though Kon finds her a bit weird. I asked if she wanted to come but she said that she'd rather explore her new home. Well, it actually came out as "Tell place I own", but I think that's what she meant.

Cats don't wee on stuff to mark it, do they? Oh, hang on, they do. My aunt had trouble with Polo doing that. Can a construct urinate?

I've had the ring tracking Cornwall Boy since he left his house, but he's only now coming into view down the road. He's wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt with the Cornish flag printed on the front. As far as I know he isn't a nationalist, so he's probably just sticking to a theme in the same way I do. His hair's a dull blonde and his ears stick out a bit. He looks physically fit. Less muscular than me, but he has to actually work for it. When he gets close enough to start trying to work out where the guy he's meeting is, I wave with my right hand. He nods at me and starts walking faster. I rise as he approaches the table.

"Mister Marrack. Pleased to meet you."

I offer him my right hand. For a moment he seems a little off balance. Could be my accent. I think that living around Americans had caused me to redevelop the Received Pronunciation accent which I abandoned in primary school. Granny would be pleased.

He takes it in the slightly careful way that I've noticed people with super strength do when interacting with the squishy folk; holding but not applying any pressure.

"You can just call me Rob. Mister Marrack's my da."

"Alright, Robert. Please, take a seat."

He sits, looking a little uncomfortable. "So, you got some kind of magic problem?"

"Yes, yes. Yesterday evening I had a run in with a rather unpleasant practitioner of chaos magic. The spell's been largely removed, but there's residual energy that's causing me some trouble."

"A chaos wizard? Where was this, then?"

"Salem, in Massachusetts."

"And who exactly removed the spell?"

"Kent Nelson. I don't think you'll have heard of him."

"No, I haven't. So, why isn't he doing this?"

"The chaos wizard killed him."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Mmm. I didn't actually know him all that well, and he'd had a good innings."

"Right. Um. So what's this spell do then?"

"In its original form it dissolved parts of my body in a manner determined by its caster. Now, I just get a constant burning, and I don't mean a burning sensation. It is continuing to harm me. Quite painful, too."

He looks off to the side. I imagine he's thinking in the same way I did just after the bridge cable collapsed in Metropolis. Something's happening in front of you and you know it's your job to fix it, but you're not sure where to start.

"Look, um, I don't really… I mean, I haven't been trained in removing spells and that. Da said that stuff can be really dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

"The spell isn't active, there's just some of the energy used to make it left over. I don't know.. how your.. connection with this sort of thing works, exactly. But if you can just take a look, and if you don't think you can help, that's fine, I'll just find someone else."

He still looks a bit uncomfortable, but he's getting his head in the game. "Yeah, I can do that. Whereabouts did the spell hit you?"

I point. "Bottom of my left lung, and centre of the abdomen."

"Jesus! And that was dissolving you?"

"Yeah, not a lot of fun."

"Okay, give me a minute."

He holds his hands out slightly, and closes his eyes. A moment passes. "I can feel it. I think. I can't really feel much from you."

"That's because I don't have a soul."

His eyes snap open. "What?"

I shake my head. "Problem for another day. So, can you help?"

"Maybe? It doesn't feel like there's much there. Da said that minor magics like that just wear off if you leave them."

"That's where the no soul thing comes in. Normally a person's soul will deal with foreign magic energy. Since I don't have one, I need to make sure that the wound's completely clear."

"That.. that sort of makes sense. There's.. something I can try. If this starts to hurt, you tell me immediately, right?"

"No need to worry about that."

Ring, monitor rate of ongoing physical damage to affected areas.

Compliance.

Robert sticks his hands out again, eyes unfocused but open this time. I can't see anything happen. There's no glow, no distortion in the air, but the pain fades to nothing almost immediately.

Rate of ongoing physical damage reduced to zero.

Hm. Lad came through.

"That shoulda sorted it."

I poke the impact sites through my vest. Still no pain. "I think you're right. Thank you. I was worried I'd be stuck with that for life."

"Ah, don't mention it." He definitely looks happier now. I know that feeling. "So, this chaos wizard. Did he get a load of other people too?"

"Not so far as I'm aware. Why?"

"Well, I could, like, fix them up as well?"

"No, I… I kind of made myself a target."

"What'd you do?"

"I beat up one of his henchmen, and then had a go at him."

He looks at me incredulously for a moment. "I thought America was full of superheroes. What were you doing fighting a chaos wizard?"

I smile. "Oh, you know-" I turn my right hand palm up, and generate a rotating orange sigil. "-professional occasion."

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August
10:08 GMT

He recoils.

"Fucking…"

I close my hand and remove the sigil. After a quiet moment with no follow up he calms down again.

"I just realised; you never told me your name."

"Correct. I didn't. Orange Lantern two eight one four, at your service. And I do mean that; I owe you for this."

He blinks as he takes this on board. "Orange Lantern. Like Green Lantern, only orange?"

I raise my left hand, palm pointing toward him so that he can get a look at the ring. He stares at it. "Same technology in the rings, certainly. Here-" I take a card with my name on it from subspace. "-since you gave me your name, it's only fair."

He takes the card from me, looks at it then looks back at me. "Paul?"

I shrug. "Dad wanted to call me Matthew."

"R-right."

"Is this a bigger shock than I thought it would be? I mean, you've met other.. empowered people before, right?"

"Yeah, but… Wait, empowered..?" He shifts back in his seat again. "You're not a criminal, right? 'Cause I know a lot of superheroes have villains with powers a lot like-."

I raise my hands to stop him. "No. The worst thing I've done was inadvertently destroying some money. Oh, and stealing someone's cat."

"Why'd you steal someone's cat?"

"It was the familiar of the chaos wizard I mentioned. Without it he lost access to most of his power, but she's still technically his property."

"And the money?"

"That's a bit complicated. Long story short? I pay for things with precious metal now, and the US Treasury Department told me that they don't intend to press charges."

He considers. "Um. Don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't heard of you. And I read a lot about superheroes in America."

I wave it off. "I've only been active for a month and a half, and I've mostly been in training. The missions I have been on, I'm not really supposed to talk about." I shrug. "Sorry."

Another pause. "Does the US have a superhero training program, then? That why they've got so many?"

"Huh? Oh, no, it's not a government scheme."

I start feeling it. The feeling I get when I'm about to make someone really happy. It's tingly, pins-and-needles' benevolent cousin.

"Then, who's training you?"

I take my League-issued ID out of subspace and push it across the table to him.

He doesn't pick it up. It seems to have transfixed him. He actually gulps. "Is that.. real..?"

I pick it up and disappear it. "Yes. Though I would appreciate it if you didn't, for example, phone the Themysciran embassy to confirm that."

"You… You're a member of the Justice League?"

"No, and keep it down a bit, would you? I'm part of a Justice League run training program. If I meet their standards, and if I want to, I might eventually join the League's roster."

"How'd you.. get into that?"

"Recommendation from a friend of Wonder Woman; the Green Lantern from the nineteen forties. You've heard of him, right?"

"Yeah, of course. He was one of the founders of the Justice Society. But I thought he was dead."

"Please don't tell him that."

"Uh, sure."

"Actually, that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."

Tingly tingly tingly.

"I've been putting together a dossier on you, your abilities and character. I want to be clear from the start: I don't have the authority to just bring someone on board. But, if it's something you want to get involved in, I'm perfectly happy to make a recommendation to the people running it. That doesn't mean they'll offer you a place soon, if ever. But, if you want to get more involved in superheroing, it's a pretty good route to take."

"Who's.. who runs the program?"

"Batman's in charge of mission assignments. Black Canary organises training, though my combat training is mostly handled by Green Lantern two eight one four bee."

"Which one's that?"

"The ginger one."

"Oh! Guy Gardner."

Knew it.

"Wait. You know Batman?"

"I've spoken to him, and he knows who I am. I'm not on his Christmas card list or anything."

He puts his right hand on his forehead. "What do you want to know?"

"To start with, are you interested?"

He looks me straight in the eyes. "Of course I'm bloody interested."

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August
21:27 GMT -6

From the cover of trees in the Prairie State Park I'm observing a collection of wrecked cars in a scrap yard just outside of Central City. Kadabra's gone to ground, but now that I know what his technology looks like it isn't hard to find. That's a real scrap yard, but a good chunk of what my unaided eyes are seeing isn't real.

The perimeter of his base of operations is delineated by wrecked cars along three sides and the outer fence along the fourth. Other wrecks are arranged in such a way that, from outside, it isn't obvious that you're looking at a straight wall. In the centre of the area it looks like there's another cluster of wrecks, but it's actually a hologram of some kind disguising a fancy looking caravan. Interior decoration looks pretty nice as well.

The ring has also detected a number of subspace pockets around the area, linked to what are probably booby traps. It can't identify the devices on the other side, but it seems to think they're supposed to cause a local spatial distortion. The full description sounds like a vortex grenade.

It takes me a second to deactivate them and smash in through the roof of Kadabra's home.

Jam…

Oh. He isn't here. He was a moment ago. Teleportation, perhaps?

Scan.

Hm. Not a bad effort. Looks like he's not even going to try a phase shift this time. There are several subspace pockets with some sort of matter transmission devices in them, and a couple of others which don't appear to contain much of anything. They are tiny, and contain only tiny amounts of matter and parts of a complex energy waveform which…

Is that..? Is he hiding in subspace? No, there's just… Oh.

Oh.

Teleportation suspension inside a subspace pocket. That can't be safe. Ring, how long is that set to last?

Unable to determine. Devices make use of randomisation units whose technology defies analysis.

Come again?

Performing further analysis. Unable to determine. Certain similarities exist between residual radiation discovered at user's origin point and radiation within all subspace pockets. No other comparable samples on record.

Kadabra has Bleed tech? No, no, I can't assume that the Bleed exists without more evidence. At any rate, whatever he's using must be fairly impressive to defy a power ring.

Ring, analyse the comprehensible parts of the devices. Are you able to bring him out?

Unable to determine with certainty. However, the components controlling the system appear to largely utilise more comprehensible technologies. The evacuation protocols have been detected, and are available at your instruction.

I take a few steps back.

Do it.

The pockets containing the devices fire beams of blue-white light into the centre of the cluster, where it collects.

How does that work?

Ring, continual analysis.

Compliance.

Lightning -no, it can't just be lightning, I've no idea what it is- cracks between the energy portals and the centre point, forming a constant connection. Frozen lightning?

I see Kadabra's outline build in the centre of the area, then the whole thing collapses, filling him in. He staggers for a moment before catching himself.

Jam.

He looks up, and sags slightly. "I hoped that would work."

"Sorry."

He flops down into a nearby armchair, and lazily waves a hand in the direction of a whiskey decanter on the sideboard. Nothing happens. After a moment he gives up. "So, what now?"

Ring, Ophidian's Eyes.

There are faces, historical figures he admires. People whose inventions weren't just improvements on existing technologies, but radical departures from accepted truths. Some of them are not Human, but I don't get a clear idea of era like this. His boyhood reaction to seeing the activation process of.. some sort of device.. I can't tell what it is. Failing to find the same sensation in his own studies in.. engineering? Wonder. He wants wonder. Something he doesn't understand and can't learn by just reading the work of another.

I can work with that.

"Now, I pump you for information and then, decide what to do with you. Let's start with: where, and when, are you from?"

"You wouldn't know the name. It doesn't exist yet."

"Humour me."

"The Halo of Valgrun Septimus."

"Explain?"

"A halo is an artificial orbital ring. Valgrun-" He looks up at the hole I made in his ceiling, and sighs. "-you can't see it from here. I think it's in that direction." He points towards the ground.

It probably doesn't matter. "Alright. And when?"

For a moment he makes eye contact. "How do you..?" He sighs again. "About four thousand years in your future."

Woo. That's a long time. I don't even know what Human society was like four thousand years ago. Hang on, is what he's been using really the limit of Human technology after four thousand years? I mean, it isn't bad, but shouldn't he have a much easier time of it?

"Don't take this the wrong way, but the technology you've used so far, doesn't seem…"

"I scrambled the control systems before I left, but the people of my era would have no trouble detecting me if I'd taken anything more advanced than what I use now with me when I came to this era."

"And I assume that you have no way to return?"

He sneers. "Even if I did, all that's waiting for me there is a brief interrogation and then an execution."

"And why this period of time?"

"This period of time is known in the future for apparently anachronistic technology. It's just about the only part of Human history in which I could get away with this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August
21:32 GMT -6

Hmm. So, he can't do much to improve this era's technology without getting spotted, and from his point of view it's all old hat anyway. He wants something new.

"Why were you working for Klarion?"

He makes a shrugging gesture with one hand. "He offered to teach me magic. The society I come from, we don't really use it. It interests me."

Bit more to it than that, I think. "When you first arrived in this era, what made you pick a fight with the Flash?"

"I didn't, not immediately. I spent months familiarising myself with the Earth of this era, making sure the historical information I had was even slightly accurate."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know. Some sort of great disaster, perhaps? Maybe they don't put completely accurate data in the archives to prevent people trying what I did."

"Okay, so what did you do next?"

"I tried to find a practitioner of magic who could teach me. This was back in nineteen ninety nine, so Atlantis had no formal contact with the rest of the world. I couldn't find anyone. In the end, I decided to set myself up as a stage magician. I'm actually quite skilled, even without my technology. With it, it was child's play. The money was good, and the applause gratifying-."

"You forced people to applaud you."

"Sometimes, yes. It made the situation bearable. But I had hoped that I'd draw a genuine wizard out to meet a fellow practitioner. No takers." His eyes move to the decanter again. I wave my right hand and he slowly lifts himself out of his chair, gingerly walks over and pours himself a glass. He then picks up an empty glass and looks at me in an enquiring manner.

"No, thank you."

He knocks the first one back, then pours another, adding some ice from a container built into the surface of the sideboard. "Three years I travelled the world like that. Central City… The Flash… They were flukes. I simply happened to be here when I finally ran out of patience. I had hoped that he would summon magical aid, or that a magician would be drawn there by my actions." He takes a sip. "No such luck."

"Why didn't you try talking to Giovanni Zatara?"

He gives me a look. "Please. He's an obvious fake. Talking backwards?"

"Hate to break it to you, but Mister Zatara is very much a real magic user. "

"What?"

"This time last night he was pulling bits of Klarion's spell out of my chest."

That did not compute. "But… Talking backwards!"

"It's some sort of bloodline thing. I don't understand how it works."

His left hand goes to his forehead.

"So, why Klarion? Why not try Atlantis now? After your last term in Iron Heights you didn't have any outstanding warrants..?"

"Atlantis gives out only slightly more travel visas than Themyscira does. They certainly wouldn't let a man with a criminal record study magic there. Klarion.. approached me a few months ago. Said that he liked the way I caused chaos, and that he'd be happy to teach me if I did some work for him."

"Anything other than kidnapping Kent Nelson?"

"He also had me manufacture some synthetic materials. Nothing an advanced laboratory from this era couldn't produce."

"Anything special about them?"

"Strong and tough, but other than that? No." He takes another sip. "Stupid thing is, he didn't actually teach me anything. I tried copying his gestures and words. Nothing."

"Oh, that's not the stupid thing. You know what is?" He looks at me. "Mister Nelson was looking for a successor. If you'd sought him out rather than picking a fight with the Flash, he'd probably have given you a chance at it."

"Bah! I thought he was simply a retired archaeologist! I had no way to know he was Fate until Klarion told me."

"Really? You didn't bring any data analysis gear with you from the future? You couldn't narrow down probabilities based on known appearance and appearances?"

"No." He stares morosely at his drink. "I didn't think it would be this hard."

Hmm. What to do with him now? Standard procedure would be to drop him off with the local police, after checking they could actually hold him of course. But…

He wants to experience wonder again, and believes that he'll find it in magic since his society doesn't use it. I could probably get him a teacher. Heck, he'd probably be my friend for life if I just showed him the books Mister Nelson gave me. Could I use that to keep him on the straight and narrow?

"I should probably tell you now, I don't think that Klarion is in a position to keep his end of the deal."

"Why do you say that?"

"I turned his familiar into an orange construct."

His hand tightens on his glass.

"Magic users have powerful bonds with their familiars, and in his case me taking it cost him most of his power."

He downs his drink, and then puts his glass down. The ice rattles as his hand shakes.

"Mister Kadabra, I'm going to offer you a deal."

"Oh?"

"You may not know many magic users who could teach you, but I'm confident that I could find one or two. If you hand yourself in to the Central City police department, confess to everything you've done but not been sentenced for and serve your time, then upon your release I will arrange for you to receive tuition for as long as you remain rehabilitated."

"And if I don't take your offer?"

I shrug. "Nothing much. I knock you out and hand you over. You go back to Iron Heights, or on to Belle Reve, and when you eventually get out you're in no better position than you are now."

He considers it for a moment. "Why should I believe you?"

"You want magic, I want you on the straight and narrow. This doesn't have to be hard."

He still hesitates. I hold out my left hand. Ring, book.

"This is a volume on basic Elemental lore Mister Nelson gave me before his death. Outline only, you wouldn't be able to summon something with what's in here. If you accept my offer, I'll let you read it first. But, if you cheat on the deal, I will forcibly remove your implants, and I don't think twenty first century technology would allow you to rebuild them."

His eyes flick between my face and the book.

"I know magic users, and if reasoned argument fails I could pay a commercial mage from Atlantis to come to you if I had to. Do the intelligent thing."

He still hesitates, hand raised to grasp. "Can I… Think about it?"

I remove the book. "You have one week."

He nods.

"On another matter, I was interested to see that you know about the Orange Lantern Corps. Do you know of the War of Light?"

"How could I not? Entire planetary populations turned into undead monstrosities. I came to this time period so that I'd have a chance to learn what I wanted before any of that happened."

"Yes, Black Lanterns can be a bit of a handful, can't they?"

"Black? No, not Black. Orange."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Initiative

27th August
05:38 GMT -5

Note to self: don't try looking into the soul of a man made of clay.

I collapse into my chair on the bioship, close my eyes and press my hands against my temples. When we confronted Clayface in the storm drains I thought that taking a look would be useful for intelligence purposes. It wasn't as if he was an immediate threat to anyone down there. One blast of orange confusion later and I recovered just in time to get slammed against the walls. That didn't hurt, but it did distract me from the fight until my team mates were downed, at which point they became my priority.

Taking on Clayface without specialist equipment isn't a great idea, but once my mind stops spinning I should be able to put something together. I am slightly worried that this version appears able to take on additional material; he was leaving blobs of mud around the place but wasn't any smaller afterwards. Why were we even engaging it? I thought Batman said that he just wanted us to track it?

The only vaguely coherent thing I got from that ill-advised use of Ophidian's Eyes was a series of fractured images of a woman I recognise as Talia al Ghul. In this timeline she and Batman broke up about a year ago. Since this version of Matthew Hagen works for the League of Shadows, he'd probably know her. Not sure why she was the only thing I could see, I usually get some kind of narrative and an idea of the way the target thinks about things.

"-point of putting on a clean costume when I'm not fresh?"

"Oh, Wally, you're always fresh."

I open my eyes.

"At least you have a clean costume."

Cleaning duty it is, then. I raise my left hand.

"Yeah, an old back-up! No stealth mode! It stinks!"

Ring, sort them out before my headache gets worse.

A beam strikes Wallace right in the lightning bolt, and a wave of orange disintegrates all of the residual clay. Next, it hits Kon, where it removes a lump of the caked on mud before disintegrating the rest. The removed blob floats over to me.

Ring, analyse.

Substance contains Aluminium, Oxygen, Silicone, Hydrogen, Iron, Magnesium, and various other elements. It is clay, and matches the chemical composition of local clay.

"Thanks Oh El!"

I rub my forehead with my right hand. "Don't worry about it."

Anything special about this clay?

Observed phenomena have no basis in conventional chemistry.

Right, right. Of course, the problem there might be me. I keep thinking that clay shouldn't be able to do that. I remember that the comics had a load of different Clayfaces, but the only origin I remember is the one from Batman: the Animated Series. Some sort of beauty product, wasn't it?

"So what do we do about the creature?"

Robin has never encountered Clayface before, so Hagen must have been transformed sometime between his last encounter with them and now. I doubt Robin would remember him though; he and Batman tend to go through henchmen rather quickly. I only know his former face because I made a point of looking him up.

"Batman wanted us to track it."

Well remembered, M'gann.

"Why settle for that? Okay, sure, it got the drop on us. But now we know its tricks!"

:-|

Kaldur, slap Wallace for me would you?

"Yeah! We split up!"

:-[

Kaldur?

"Then whoever finds old 'Clayface' radios the team."

Wait, what? Why is Robin-?

"We converge and kick some clay-butt!"

!-[

Kon, we're going to be having a talk about this.

"What do you think, Aqualad?"

"What? Oh. Yes… It seems we have a plan."

}:[

"Oh, we most certainly do not!"

The clay sample I was analysing moves aside as I rise out of my chair, and land with some force in the front of the ship.

"Are you seriously saying that you want to attack Clayface using exactly the techniques that just failed. He cannot be meaningfully hurt by kinetic force. And you think splitting up will improve our chances!?"

No sound. They're all looking at me, though.

Think calm thoughts.

>:[

I point at Wallace.

"Kinetic force."

I point at Kon.

"Kinetic force."

I point at M'gann.

"Mostly, kinetic force."

I point at Robin.

"And unless you've changed your utility belt load out without telling me, kinetic force! Now, does anyone have any ideas for fighting a thing made entirely of clay that are actually sensible?"

Stunned silence.

Oh, Kaldur's woken up.

"Could you track it with your ring?"

"No, because it's got exactly the same chemical composition as Gotham mud-"

I bring my clay sample to float in front of me, and wave it at him.

"-and Clayface can change his shape at will. No constant unique physical characteristics."

He looks down for a moment.

"Is there something you would like to suggest?"

"As I see it, we have two options for fighting it. We can bake it hard, or we can try and mix it with so much water that it can't maintain its integrity."

"How would we do that?"

"Can you use your water bearers to force water into it?"

"Possibly. But what is to stop it simply reforming?"

"Not much. I'm hoping that it needs a certain amount of clay in one place in order to think complex thoughts. But for my preferred option, Robin-"

I shift my attention from Kaldur to him.

"-do you know where you can lay your hands on some thermite at short notice?"

He grins.

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th August
06:18 GMT -5

"Well, hah, that could have gone better."

Directly in front of me, the hard baked form of Matthew Hagen makes no response. Behind him, my reinforced anti-radiation shield bubble doesn't quite block out the sight of my fallen team mates. A quick check shows no serious injuries, then I ignore them and focus on the shield.

My gun construct is still up. On one level I know I don't need it; Clayface is baked. But the primitive parts of my brain are rejecting out of hand the idea that the huge mud-man who TPKed my team can't hurt me, at least until they've seen its blood.

I double check my armour. Still good. I mean, I wouldn't last long enough to know if it wasn't, but still.

What little plan we'd had was abandoned nearly as soon as we got to this warehouse. I hadn't seen this version of Clayface shapeshift, but apparently it was good enough at it to get the drop on all my team mates. I tried to scoop it up into a construct bubble, but it was able to exert colossal pressure and I couldn't hold it. Kaldur got slammed into a wall and I was faced with a choice between letting it out into Gotham, or using one of my shouldn't-use-in-an-inhabited-area constructs.

Maintain the shield. Maintain the shield. Everything will be alright if you maintain the shield.

"Orange Lantern."

Batman's behind me, outside the shield. It might be that he's just that sneaky, but I don't think I'm paying attention to much else at the moment.

Clayface is really big, up close.

Maintain the shield.

Not all that much bigger than Flinders, really. I think it's the obvious inhumanity that's getting to me. I mean, even after his transformation Flinders was obviously a functioning organic being.

"Orange Lantern."

"Sorry sir, did you say something? I'm a bit distracted."

"Is the creature neutralised?"

"Far as I can tell. No activity of any kind. And if it were magic, it'd still be going for me."

"Drop the shield. I'll take it from here."

"Sir, I'm compelled to obey your orders but I'm going to have to respectfully suggest that you reconsider that one."

"Your reason?"

"I was in too much of a rush to calibrate my attack properly. I'm not sure exactly how much gamma radiation I hit him with, but if I dropped the shield Gotham would probably melt."

I'm not looking at him, and I'm not going to split my attention to analyse his expression under his mask. He doesn't say anything for a moment.

"You are able to maintain the shield?"

Fuck yes.

"If I couldn't, we'd never know about it."

"How much radiation escaped before you raised the shield?"

"I put the shield up first. With both of us inside it. Probably why I'm a bit-" I jazz hands. "-at the moment."

"Have you been exposed at all?"

"No, 'cause this much gamma? There's no such thing as a little exposure. Look, I should.. I should probably take him somewhere. D'you mind if I drop him off on Ganymede? It's nice this time of year. Well, actually it isn't, but no one's using it and if I release the radiation there then it shouldn't hit anything inhabited in sufficient concentration to do anything."

"That sounds like a reasonable precaution."

Next to the wall, Kaldur starts to pick himself off the floor. I look up.

Okay, it's just glass. I can cut through it and lift it out of the way, no trouble.

Up we go.

I rise gradually, taking a chunk of floor with me. I had to put the shield under the ground as well, otherwise it wouldn't have worked. Of course, that means I'm stuck with Gotham warehouse floor until I get to Ganymede. Do I take a chance and transition it there? No, far too risky with something like this.

I project a clamp construct from the top of the bubble shield and attach it to the skylight. Next, a cutting blade from the side slices an ovoid just a little wider all around than my bubble.

Maintain the shield.

I rise up through my hole. Normally I'd take the time to reattach the window, but that bit of roof looks solid enough. I'll just lay it down there. Okay, accelerate.

With nothing else to think about I look down at the city as it appears below me for a few minutes before being concealed by the clouds. I know I instinctively think of Gotham as a shithole, but having actually had a look at the place, I think my accusation may have been premature. Or maybe it's that nowhere could be as bad as comics Gotham and still function, so this place looks good in comparison. The crime rate is high, but it's United States high, not Mogadishu high. The formerly unchallenged crime syndicates were either destroyed by Batman -though Harvey Dent got Falcone himself- or shrunk to a shadow of their former might. Commissioner Gordon hasn't quite cleaned up the police department, but without a safe source of money and a corruption friendly working environment Gotham's shady police have decided that now is the time for sensible men and women to be honest.

Above the cloud layer now. Nothing to look at but Hagen's face. I don't understand how he functions. It's actually possible that he is still alive in some way. Is he aware, like this? There's nowhere for light or sound to go, but then, there wasn't when we fought him and he seemed to manage.

I killed him.

I killed him.

Oh, I could justify it. I think on balance it was probably the right thing to do, given the situation. And he was certainly trying to kill us, if a bit clumsily. But I looked into the mess that they'd turned his soul into, then an hour later I intentionally hit him with enough gamma radiation to sterilise the northern hemisphere.

I just killed a man.

I don't really feel bad for him, but as I leave the Earth's atmosphere I get this weird feeling that I've violated some sort of rule. That I should expect some sort of retribution. Did Batman have a way to stop him without that level of force? I didn't try freezing, would that have worked? Alright, when I get back, find the schematics for Leonard Snart's cold gun.

Would they consider him to have been alive? There was nothing I could point to, no brain waves or heart beat.

I don't know.

Is he going to wake up, once the radiation dissipates? Reliquefy, or whatever? Create a body of Ganymedian mud, and rampage around the place in total isolation?

I'm not using the Eyes on him again.

My current speed would be deadly in an atmosphere, but in space it's fine. Shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes to reach Ganymede orbit, then maybe another twenty depositing him safely onto the surface.

I need to find out why this happened.

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th August
14:43 GMT

I ended up putting him on a rise in the centre of an impact crater. There's a certain grandeur to it, and he'll get an unobstructed view of both sunrise and Jupiter-rise. Don't know if he'd have cared about that. I didn't say anything before I left. Not like I knew him, and the best I could come up with was 'Matthew Hagen, lived as an arsehole, died as a shit'.

But she did. I've had the Justice League files on Talia al Ghul since I started with the team. I've had Batman's personal files for less than an hour. Fortunately, despite their relationship, it's all business. He's got a fair bit on the League of Shadows' internal structure, but I still can't work out why Hagen and Talia would even know each other. She's their business manager, for goodness sake. Sure, she's attractive, but the only coherent thought in someone's mind after they get turned into a thing? No. There's something black in these lentils.

I'm standing on the Rue Volney watching her through the windows of the small restaurant where she's having coffee with a man. I don't recognise him from the League's files, but a quick internet search matches his face to that of Efraim al-Tauib, suspected financial fixer for one of the Niger Delta's more mercenary paramilitaries. I'm a little curious about how he even got into France. He definitely has an outstanding international arrest warrant. On the other hand, his face is fairly bland, and I could well believe that he's got a decent fake passport. Double check dental records and genetic codes against known relatives… yep.

I'm wearing a suit. Not my standard one with the orange trim, just plain black and white. I found a high class shop that would accept dollars, then waited while they phoned my contact at the US Treasury. He's been getting quite a lot of those phone calls, but given the amount of money I made them for virtually no work on their part…

Anyway. There's no way Ms al Ghul can escape, but I'd rather not cause panic in the centre of Paris if I can avoid it. I also don't have any evidence against her that would justify me handing her over to Batman. Looks like two bodyguards… no, three. Two at their table and one on his own at the bar. Can't tell whether they're his or hers, but they're carrying pistols and knives and wearing stab proof vests under their shirts. That can't be legal here.

Hmm. Lunch rush hasn't started yet. Walk in, or wait outside? An image of Mister Hagen's kiln-hardened face forms in my mind as I decide in favour of the former. I still feel resistance in my own mind. I'm breaking a social convention, intruding on their personal space in a public place. But it's becoming increasingly apparent to me that nothing will happen as a result. What was Hyperion's line from Supreme Power? 'If I choose to go to any of those places, exactly who's going to stop me'? Something like that.

Check both ways, cross the road. Check that the shield is up and on minimum. Step aside with a smile as a couple of well dressed women leave the restaurant, then push open the door for myself.

I assume that the Shadows know what I look like. A description at least. I've avoided asking Jade about exactly what they know on my last couple of visits. I don't want her to think about it as a choice between two adversaries, largely to avoid her making the choice I don't want her to make due to her contrary need to defy her critics. I take in the room like a clueless tourist while the bodyguard facing the door scans me for a moment and then ignores me. Guess I don't register. Maybe the people of this parallel are just really bad at facial recognition?

There's an empty table one place in from the window from them, and I amble over to it, vacant smile in place. I turn my back to them as I pull out the chair closest to them, and a firm hand is placed on my right shoulder. I turn around, smile still in place and eyebrows raised in unspoken question.

"I'm sorry sir, but Miss Head values her privacy quite highly. Would you please take another table?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't-."

I put my hand on the side of his arm.

Pithing Needle, ShockCrown.

The Needle construct locks his nerves to keep him upright as I deposit him on the available chair. I run an orange thread under the floor to keep him in place. A person who knew exactly what to look for might notice it, but this thin and in this light it's practically invisible. Next, I turn my eyes to the target table, step over and take a seat next to Mister al-Tauib.

"Hello there, Miss al Ghul, Mister al-Tauib."

She goes still. I turn my head towards him. He looks stunned.

"You're under arrest, by the way."

I turn back to Talia just in time for the guard opposite to lean across the table and strike the base of my nose with the heel of his palm. I don't feel a thing through the shield, though I imagine he'll have a bruise in the morning. A thread behind him ShockCrowns him and drops him safely back on his seat.

"I will admit to being a little disappointed, Miss al Ghul. I had been under the impression that you only mixed with the better class of criminal."

"I don't know who you think you are-."

I turn back to him. "Oi, yer rumbled. Learn to lose with dignity."

"You can't just-."

ShockCrown.

He slumps.

"Yes. Yes I can."

Ah! We have eye contact! Talia's expression remains neutral as she stares at my face.

"Miss al Ghul. You appear to have developed a hole in your schedule. Do you think you could possibly fit me in?"

Ring, monitor the fuck out of her.

Compliance.

She takes a sip of her coffee.

"You do not believe that the oppressed peoples of the Niger Delta are sufficiently 'high class'?"

"Oh please. He's paymaster for a group of opportunistic mercenaries who'll proclaim any creed if the money's right, and they have no ideology beyond 'let the devil take the hindmost'. I'd respect them if there was an actual liberation struggle going on."

Looks like she's decided not to start screaming. The guy by the bar is aware that something's off, but he hasn't moved yet.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"I, am Orange Lantern two eight one four. And I want to talk to you about Matthew Hagen."

Her face doesn't move. "I don't know anyone of that name."

"I'm afraid that your brain activity says otherwise. Looks like memory.. and emotion." I frown. "Ooh, intense emotion." Friendly smile, singsong voice. "You'll feel better if you tell me."

A tiny change, the slightest grimace, and she turns from me to look forward. "Matthew Hagen is dead."

I raise my eyebrows, and lean forward attentively. "Really? He seemed remarkably mobile for a dead man this morning."

Added tension along her jaw.

"I told my father that sending him to Gotham was a mistake."

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th August
14:48 GMT

"That would depend on what he was trying to achieve. The foyer of the Wayne Foundation may never be the same again." I nod my head to the side. "I don't consider attacks on charities to be high class, either."

She's allowing herself a little more expression. Looks like she doesn't, either. "I told Father it was beneath him."

"Sounds like business as usual to me."

"He usually accepts his losses with more grace."

Is this about Doctor Roquette?

"Which particular loss was this retaliation for?"

A tiny hint of a frown. I wonder if she's had Botox?

"The satellite launch at Cape Canaveral."

"Your father sent a man made of clay to kill your ex because he stopped a satellite launch?"

She narrow her eyes.

"That, and because Father was killed."

"Temporarily. And, really? A giant laser in space? That's silver age supervillainy right there."

A frown. I guess she isn't a comics reader. Or maybe the silver age didn't happen here? Or maybe it happened in real life instead?

"His plan was perfectly sound. If Batman had not intervened-."

"Then one of the Greenies would have destroyed the satellite in orbit. Or Superman would. Or me. Or one of the dozen or so armies that can hit targets in orbit. Realistically, he'd have got, maybe, one city. At most, two, if they were close together. But I'm not here to talk about Ra's al Ghul's deranged supervillainy."

I roll my eyes at 'deranged'. Talia curls her lip into a protosnarl.

"So, anyway, ambush fails, and we-both-know-who-but-I'm-not-saying-it-out-loud survives. So far, so typical. What I don't understand is why a professional killer just,-" I shrug "-walks off. Hagen didn't exactly seem focused on the mission. Plus I'm kinda curious how a baseline Human becomes a giant clay monster."

"If the attack was stopped, why not ask Hagen yourself?"

"Because I killed him."

She's taken aback. "He is dead? You are sure?"

"As far as I could tell he's permanently inanimate. I hit him with enough gamma radiation to sterilise the northern hemisphere, then dumped him on Ganymede. I couldn't detect any chemical changes and he wasn't moving… so, yes. Sure as I can be."

Her eyes move off me and she blinks, twice. Brain activity says emotion again.

"Now, I've.. I've never killed someone before. I don't know exactly how you were involved, but the only thing he could think coherently was your face, and I'd really quite like an explanation."

"Matthew Hagen attempted to use a Lazarus Pit to cure his cancer."

"The Pit did that?"

That doesn't match anything in the comics.

"Yes."

Hard to tell, but I think she's telling the truth.

"Father decided to make use of his new form."

Might be true? The ring's lie detection function just isn't good enough to tell how much of this is true, and I doubt that I could intimidate her as I did Kadabra.

"So why did Hagen give up?"

"Perhaps the changes to his body damaged his mind. I have no interest in speculating."

"I'm still not hearing anything to explain why he was thinking about you."

"Then you will simply have to leave disappointed."

Time for a new approach.

"Alright, so explain it to me: even if the satellite could have worked -which it couldn't- what exactly was the point in killing all of those people?"

"The objective was to remove the surplus part of the Human population."

"You think cities are surplus? Do I need to point out where your clothing and jewellery were manufactured? Or where the satellite itself was made?"

"The Earth can survive without those things."

"Until the next alien invasion, when no one has any advanced weapons. Or an asteroid impact, when we've got no spacecraft. Or a plague when modern medicine's bitten the dust."

"Manufacturing can be done on a smaller scale. Mass industrialisation unavoidably poisons all ecosystems, including the ones Humans depend on."

"I remember your father saying something about people born today having no idea about what clean air smells like. And he has a point. Thing is though, there's normal, sensible solutions... And then there's supervillain solutions."

"You cannot argue with the efficiency of an orbital weapon strike."

"Not if you're a megalomaniac, no. If Ra's al Ghul really wants to improve the situation, why doesn't he… I dunno.. encourage off-world colonisation? Or improve access to education and contraception to women in third world countries, something that's proven to reduce birth rates? Why? Because he's just another stupid supervillain so in love with his own ego that he couldn't make a good decision even if it killed him. And worse than most of them, because if it did kill him he'd just get up again!"

"You will show respect!"

"No, I won't. It's stupid, the whole idea's stupid."

Ring, genetic scan, match to parent and siblings.

Compliance. High probability matches; one living parent and one living sibling.

"I reckon this is why your sister left, you know."

She opens her mouth to respond, then stops herself. "I don't have a sister."

I raise my left palm so she can see the sigil of the ring. "The ring says otherwise. I mean, how old's your father? You've probably got loads of relatives around the place."

Ring, just in case I'm wrong, what's her sister's name?

Nyssa Raatko.

Nearly remembered it right. Not bad for an average quality comic I read over five years ago.

Get her address, and put it on a card.

Compliance.

"Distant relatives, perhaps. But Father would have told me if I had a sister."

"Not if she hated him because he left her and her entire family to die in a Nazi concentration camp. Can't risk you thinking for yourself. Here-" The card appears. "-her address. Look her up." I shrug. "Or don't. See, the actual reason you and Batman didn't work out? It's not 'cause he's a big softy and can't cope with your father's harsh but necessary methods. It's 'cause your father's a nutter."

I stand, floating Mister al-Tauib with me. No need to disguise my presence any more.

Medium armour, increase shields.

And now everyone's looking. I meet the eyes of the other bodyguard and smile. He turns back to the bar.

Now, where do I drop this guy off in France?

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th August
10:02 GMT -5

I was pleasantly surprised by how on the ball the French National Police were, but it still took more time than I wanted to pass Mister al-Tauib over to them. They weren't unreasonably difficult about the whole superhero thing, but I got the impression that their standard operating procedures didn't cover the situation. Fortunately, they let me write Orange Lantern as my name on the forms and accepted the Themysciran embassy in New York as my main postal address and primary phone contact. The captain who ended up dealing with the situation said that he wasn't sure whether or not I would be called to testify. I said that if they wanted me it wouldn't be a problem.

I'm now high in the sky off the west coast of Ecuador, spying on Ra's al Ghul himself. I'm not seeing any particularly high level of alert, so either Talia hasn't been in touch or they don't think that I'll follow up. The island he appears to be living on is guarded, certainly, but the man himself appears to be taking a walk through a dojo running a morning training session. A large bald man, who I assume to be an Ubu, follows shortly behind.

I'm forced to wonder exactly how proprietary Batman is about his villains. I'm not planning anything one of the raw power Justice Leaguers couldn't do. I mean, that's an assassin training facility for goodness sake. I'll give Batman a dump of all of the information I've scanned from their electronic and paper records when I get back.

Why am I here? Ra's sent Hagen to kill Batman, and possibly a large number of other people. Revenge probably, but Talia's brain waves and Hagen's soul suggest there was more to it than that. I might never know what. Thinking about it dispassionately, killing everyone on the island would probably be a decent solution. I'm reasonably confident I could do something to Ra's he couldn't get back from.

But the others wouldn't see it that way. And I need them more than I need to know that I made a correct utility calculation. There must be some reason why Batman's left this place intact, right?

But I don't want to just fly back and present my report yet. I've never liked the fact that foot soldiers bear the brunt of their master's decisions. If killing one government official prevents a war, surely assassination is far more moral than killing hundreds of soldiers who believe that they are simply doing their job? Surely the execution of a convicted criminal is more moral than a chance killing on a battlefield?

What can I do to Ra's that will actually make him suffer for his action? I might have made Talia doubt, though I think that's a bit optimistic. Maybe I should give Nyssa some warning? But there's one thing I can certainly take that will hurt him.

I can't just tell the ring to find a Lazarus Pit. I don't know what they look like here, and there are any number of things on that island that could be the Pit.

But I know one way to make them show me.

The railgun forms alongside me. An upgrade on my original attempt to make a construct version, this converts the ring's power far more efficiently and uses tungsten slugs with iron jackets for projectiles.

Ring, adjust for movement. I want to get Ra's and only Ra's.

Compliance.

The gun shifts slightly.

In my mind's eye I see flight path projections, impact estimates and timelines. I'm aiming at his head, and as the projectile will pulp him and keep going I can't risk hitting someone else on the way in or out.

In theory they could see me, but I'm a small orange light in the sky some distance away with the sun at my back.

The construct hums, and I unnecessarily suppress the sound.

From killing someone in the heat of the moment to killing someone because I decide they deserve it all in the space of a day. I suspect that he'd be proud of that.

Kill him.

There's a sharp crack, and I see that Ra's' head has been obliterated. Some of the people near him appear to have been hurt by flying chips of stone, but I've achieved my objective. Guards run around and the Ubu picks up the intact part of Ra's' body while trying to spot where the attack came from. He says something, and a wall of Human shields gather around him.

I track him as he moves through the buildings to what I assume is Ra's' own home. Eventually, he gets to the lower part of the structure. The Pit itself is a sarcophagus like structure, quite unlike the large pool I had been expecting. Ubu gently lowers his headless master into it, being careful not to touch the roiling liquid himself. Then, he stands well back and waits. None of the others followed him into the inner sanctum. Interesting.

I have no idea how long this process will take. I set the ring to monitor the condition of Ra's' corpse, and begin designating nonliving targets for stage two. That takes about a minute; the number of things worth hitting that don't have people right next to them is rather low. After checking that nothing in the general area is likely to spot me I take a book out of subspace. I was disappointed to learn that Terry Pratchett doesn't exist here, but by some strange quirk of fate Charles Stross does, so I picked up a copy of The Atrocity Archive.

By the time Ra's pulls himself forth from his alchemical bath Bob and Mo are visiting Amsterdam. I remember that emerging from the pit causes temporary derangement, so it isn't surprising that Ubu keeps his distance. After staring wildly about for a few moments Ra's seems to get his thoughts in order, and Ubu approaches to hand him a towel.

Search parties have already scoured the island and found nothing. The ring no-sells radar scans, as well as something more sophisticated that appeared to scan for gravity distortions. I scanned that right back, and moved it to the top of the targeting list. I'm not going to level the island, but I do want to put everything breakable out of commission long enough for Batman to decide whether or not he wants to destroy the place completely.

Alright, the area around the Pit is clear. I transition to high above the island and recreate the railgun. My first targets are the boats and aircraft. Those can most readily be destroyed from above. While I'm up here I'll also take a few shots at the unoccupied portions of Ra's' house. Then, FTL transition to a position on the east side of the island for skimming targets where I can't risk over-penetration due to the proximity of League of Shadows henchpeople. Not sure if this Ra's is less patriarchal than the comic version, but a good proportion of the people getting ninja training on the island are female. I want my projectiles to arrive in a staggered pattern; while there aren't any technological weapons down there that can hurt me, there might be magic based ones.

I myself will be going in through Ra's' roof. It's a solid enough structure, but I'm a Lantern.

Ring, plot FTL jumps and shot trajectories.

Attack plotted.

Execute.

Flickers of sky and island and the hum of the gun, and then I'm directly above Ra's roof.

RazorWedge. Down.

Rubble explodes around me and the ring notifies me of the success of my other strikes. Four seconds and I'm in the target chamber. A slam as I close the sarcophagus. A whine as my cutting constructs free it from the stone floor in which it was embedded.

Subspace it.

I got transport and communications. They could swim for shore, but for the moment the island's a prison.

Ring, plot course for home.

Course available.

Hmm. Doubt it'll matter, but…

I withdraw Mister Crock's plasma crossbow from subspace and fire it repeatedly at the floor next to the hole where the Lazarus Pit used to be. I then return it to subspace before lashing out at the surrounding walls.

Execute FTL transfer.