With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Twelve)

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Mayday, part 23

Day 11
23:57 GMT -4

I look around at the barren rock and parched earth around me. This is it. Ra's al Ghul's last bolthole. Master hasn't wanted to make my job too easy, it hasn't just let me scan the planet for the man. But it has been willing to let me use its god-tier hacking and decryption abilities on every Society of Shadows database I've come across. Oh, and confirm the location from low orbit. There was no obvious reason for a plane to ever deliver supplies out here. They had to more or less drop them out of the back before flying onto their 'official' destination to avoid detection.

Conventional detection.

There's a plane here now. I raise my right hand and blast it through the fuel tanks before walking on. The crane over the side of the canyon gets the same treatment a moment later, the broken and twisted metal falling into the void as the plane explodes behind me. In theory, a person could climb up or down, but that certainly wouldn't be easy.

This is it, then. Once I kill Ra's al Ghul my part of the deal will be complete. Nyssa wants to be in at the death but it won't be any real trouble to pick her up once I'm more or less finished. No sense putting her in the line of fire before that. Anything happening to her would defeat the whole purpose of the exercise.

I should feel relief.

I don't.

I don't feel much of anything, except tiredness.

I walk to the edge of the canyon and step into the air before turning around and slowly descending. Lesa DeOrro. Not sure how that's supposed to be spelt. Sounds Spanish, so it was probably the name given to the place by the Spaniards Ra's led here to slaughter the population and steal all of their worldly goods rather than the people who built it. A man who has the ability to cure any disease in the world and this was where his fortune started. Even if he wasn't sharing the technique, the money he could have made offering to regenerate the occasional king or wealthy merchant… But no. The Pits were for him and him alone and genocide was the only way he would accept making money.

My right index finger glows as beams of dull green energy leap towards the lights hammered into the cliff face. I'm not exactly trying to hide my approach. I'm even -for the first time- wearing the uniform of black, white and dull green. Still, I haven't needed to recharge since that thing in Detroit and I don't particularly want to have to waste power blocking missiles here.

Vision.

Thirty seven people, all armed. Ra's isn't looking all that good. He appears to be in a wheel chair, wizened and frail. Possibly he has a problem with Lazarus Pits? Well, he's hundreds of years old. If the same thing ends up happening to Nyssa and I then I'll have lived far longer than I would have without it. The others… Talia, naturally. A hulking brute I presume to be the current Ubu. And a whole lot of agents of various stripes. With the lights going out the ones on lookout duty have donned night vision goggles and are aiming their rifles in my direction.

I raise my right forefinger again and lines of dull green pierce their chests and bore into their hearts. They barely have time to cry out before the blood pouring out of the smoking hole causes the pressure in their veins to drop with the result that they lose consciousness. I continue heading down, level now with the city's rock pathways. One brief moment to admire the architecture and then I walk softly in the direction of the Demon's lair.

What does come next? Having recently persuaded Master that I do in fact need sleep in order to think clearly I think I'll start lying in. Maybe a day of not killing anyone? Heh. Oh, what have things come to that that sounds so good? I imagine that Master won't be onboard with me not killing anyone, at least not for a prolonged period. It can't be that hard to find people I wouldn't object to killing… Or at least fighting.

I idly wave my hand forwards and disarm the recently planted mines. Another volley of beams strike the security cameras and deny them the ability to see me. Hm. Why am I going this slowly? I could just.. zoom up there..? Ah, that's why. I'm worried that whatever I have to do next will be worse. Another group of guards appear on the roofs surrounding the meeting hall which Ra's is holed up in and they meet the same fate as their comrades. Right, come on. I start striding up the shallow incline towards my objective. There's been some attempt at fortification, but it's nothing I can't lift out of the way.

Two assassins charge out, blades drawn. These I shoot through the heads, sending them tumbling to the floor where they lie still. Perhaps years of fighting Batman has caused them to forget how to fight people who don't mind using lethal force? Inside, the remaining assassins form up in two ranks, rifles at the ready, Ubu, Talia and Ra's just behind them. I form a blade construct and slice in through the chaff, cutting them in half. Ubu goes to snatch up a gun but Ra's lays a hand on his arm to stop him, watching the doorway with a degree of interest.

I walk forwards, arms held loosely at my sides. As I enter the room Talia shrinks back very slightly. Ubu's face tightens. Ra's just looks a little disappointed. "So this is my fate. To die at the hands of a man I've never heard of."

"Yes, basically." I turn to Talia. "You may leave, now."

She draws a pistol and points it squarely at my centre of mass. "I'm not going anywhere without my father."

"I have orders to leave you unharmed, Miss Talia Head. However, everyone else dies."

"Orders?" Ra's manages a weak smile. "Indulge a dying man. Who ordered this? Which of my many enemies finally found someone who could-?"

"Qward."

I stiffen slightly at the voice from behind me. Batman. Why didn't I..?

The continued existence of the slave-animal is permitted as long as it provides data. The execution of these weak warriors provides none.

"Detective. Good of you to come."

"You've been keeping yourself alive using his Lazarus Pits, haven't you?"

I take a few steps to my right, turning as I do so. Yep, that's Batman.

"I wondered who was attacking the Society of Shadows. Once Green Lantern explained how your power ring worked, it was obvious." I nod. "But if you kill them all, how do you intend to stay alive afterwards?"

"Obvious, logical and wrong, Mister Wayne. You lack a vital piece of information. It's like on that-" I snap my right fingers twice. "-Sherlock Holmes update thing, where he deduced a load of stuff about Watson and misses the fact that Bob is his sister not his brother because there's nothing present to suggest it."

He inclines his head slightly. "So what am I missing? You passed up two opportunities to kill Talia before today. Were you planning to force her to make them for you?"

"I would never help you!"

"Guessing." I shake my head. "Master, are any of the others here?"

"You call it 'Master' and you wince whenever you use it. You're not working for the Weaponers voluntarily."

"No shit." Master's giving me nothing… Ah heck, Batman's just a man. If it comes to it I can just hide in an ocean trench until he loses the trail. My eyes blaze dull green as two beams of light shoot from my side and stab my two remaining targets through the chest.

"I die… For the Master."

I turn my head slightly to regard the dying Ubu. "Yes, and you do it voluntarily, which is all the more patheti-." Ra's looks down at the hole in his chest as it oozes closed, then stands up. "Mister J'onzz." I sigh as he returns to his 'Martianish' form. "Should have seen that coming."

"Indeed." Talia backs off as his eyes glow. Telepathic chat with Batman? Master made it clear that it wouldn't let-. I feel a brief sense of disorientation and then Mister J'onzz sags, clutching his head. Qwardian copyright protection in action.

"If he's not here, I'm leaving. I can hunt-." There's a brilliant flash at my feet but I'm already flying backwards, bulldozing through the wall before Batman can follow up. Once I'm clear I pause. No, no reason to hang around. I'm not really on a clock. Nyssa would probably like to spit in his face but I can always throw his corpse into the sun for her. I accelerate upwards-

"HhhhhhhhhAYAH!"

-and frantically lunge sideways as Hawkgirl dives at me with her mace!

"Oh look, the spy." No, the wind's up and she isn't really paying attention to what I'm saying. I'd like to blackmail her into leaving me alone but I don't think it's going to happen. I accelerate away as she comes back around for another pass. Master, you can outfly her, right?

Nothing back. And she's gaining. Fine, scramjet. It takes a second to form but as soon as it does I'm leaving her in my backwash. Right, watch my surroundings. The Flash can't fly, Mister J'onzz is still nursing his head and Wonder Woman isn't fast enough. The only one I've really got to worry about is BWOFF!

I spin out of control for a few seconds before dropping the construct and taking control. Superman floats in the air just in front of me with his arms folded across his 'S'.

"Stand down, Anti-Green Lantern. I don't want to have to-." My kryptonite laser hits him in the chest. "Aagh!" Not enough to seriously injure him, but enough to hurt and to slow him down for long enough for me to get away.

"Lex says 'hi'. Don't follow me, Mister Kent."

Now I have to go and report a failure to Nyssa.

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Bereave, part 1

19th October 2007
10:12 GMT -5

This building has excellent air conditioning.

Whatever their other failures -and there are many- the air conditioning in Vought-American's New York headquarters is a marvel of engineering. And I know bad air conditioning. One of my colleagues at my previous job described what we had there as being a flu simulator: cold in the morning and toasty in the afternoon whatever the actual outside air temperature was. Here, we're just reaching the end of autumn and there's a ve-ry slight breeze percolating through the place and… Is that lavender? I'd make a comment about executive privilege but actually it runs through the whole building.

And after my encounter with Brand I'm in a particularly good position to enjoy it. While I came out somewhat less scathed than I thought I might, they've still dressed me up like a seventeenth century Native American of some sort. Or at least Brand's idea of what a seventeenth century Native American looks like, which is probably nothing like the real thing. Animal skin -probably fake- waistcoat dyed to a pretty near match for the indigo glow of my constructs, shorts made of the same material and mock moccasins. I've got enough bare skin showing that anyone who looks at me is getting an eyeful of the skin paint that appears whenever the ring has a charge.

The butt of my lantern's staff taps gently on the carpeted floor as I make my way towards James Stillwell's office. I'm getting a few looks, but I imagine if you work in Superhuman Development you get a bit used to odd-looking types walking around. Ah, no, that woman's checking me out. I turn my head and give her a warm, friendly smile, prompting her to immediately turn her head away. I rather suspect that she's blushing under her makeup. It's funny; I seem to remember something about indigo rings having some sort of brainwashing effect, but though I have experienced a slight change in my approach to things I certainly haven't experienced any sort of radical disconnect.

I walk into the antechamber of the office and stroll over to Margaret's desk. A woman I don't immediately recognise… Sandra, thank you ring. Is occupying it, and she's still new enough to react with surprise to someone who looks like me hanging around the place. I haven't gotten around to learning the executive assistant hierarchy yet… I'm probably going to need to. Presumably the one hanging around here is fairly low on it? "Good morning, Sandra. I was asked to report to Mister Stillwell once Brand had finished with me?"

"Ah. Right." Her attention goes back to her computer. "I'm afraid that Mister Stillwell is in Washington at the moment…" She looks back up at me and rises to her feet. "Could you wait here for just a moment?"

Calm. "Certainly."

She turns away, walks to the door to the main office and knocks before pushing it open and walking through. Bit odd. Mister Stillwell always seemed to be an extremely precise man. Not like him to leave things up in the air without-.

The door opens and Sandra comes back out. "Ms Bradley will see you now."

"Thank you." I incline my head slightly towards her and smile before heading towards-.

"Um." I stop, raise my eyebrows slightly and give her my full attention. Under the make up, her cheeks colour slightly. "No, it's.. nothing."

"Alright. Let me know if it becomes 'something'." Not a great deal of compassion in places like this. They usually don't know how to cope with it. I expand my smile slightly, then turn away and head on through the door. A woman… Ah, Jessica Bradley. I think she's Mister Stillwell's deputy director or something? I've seen her around a few times but I haven't interacted with her directly. "Ms Bradley. I'm sorry if this is inconvenient..?"

"Not at all." She moves the paper file she was reading -one of several littering the desk- into a position which makes it awkward for me to try peeking at it. "Please, take a seat." And she does this while maintaining eye contact. Good distraction. I already know the contents of my own file, of course. Mostly it consists of Vought-American's attempts to work out how the hell someone with no Compound V in their system can do any of the things I can do. Most of the rest is their attempts to precisely work out what those things are. The remainder is Mister Stillwell's own observations, the most pertinent being 'Indigo Lantern is considerably more intelligent and capable than most superheroes currently in Vought's employ. I advise taking whatever he says seriously'.

"Thank you." The visitor chair is positioned some distance from the desk. It's probably an attempt to make the desk -and its occupant- seem larger than they are, to add a little intimidation to the proceedings. I release my staff just to the right of it and it remains standing upright, casting an indigo light over the area. I then sit, slouching back in the seat and crossing my right ankle over my left leg.

"How was your meeting with Brand?"

"I survived. Lost some-" I raise my arms to the side as if noticing my bare arms for the first time. "-clothing."

"What's your new origin story?"

"Visiting missionary for an alien religion. Have you heard the good news about the Proselyte?"

"That's odd. They usually try to avoid non-Christian religious themes for Caucasians."

"Or make them ridiculously stereotyped. I.. may have had to guide them away from a few things."

A nod. "How did you manage that? They're usually fairly insistent."

"Yes, but they value their 'originality'. Avoiding a dodgy concept was a simple matter of pointing out each time it had been used before, and at whose instruction. They hate the idea of copying someone, so…"

She smiles, then catches herself. "Still, it's a bit… If you're in any way unhappy-."

"Oh, no. This will just be for publicity stuff. I'm meeting a Red River guy later to sort out an actual armoured version to wear if I'm going into combat."

She nods. "I'm.. afraid that James' departure was something of a surprise."

"I'm sure that the Vice President is very grateful for his assistance."

She pauses, then decides to press on anyway. "I know you had a meeting scheduled to discuss your proposals, but I haven't had a chance to properly review them yet."

"Very well. Would you like me to come back later?"

She looks me over, trying to decide how seriously to take me. She's had more than a little experience of… Nearly everyone else in my profession. Still, I doubt that she'd simply ignore something Mister Stillwell told her. "I'll read your written proposal later. But since you're here, why not explain them in your own words. What exactly do you want to do?"

"Alright. Well… It struck me, after I'd got the measure of the place, that Superhuman Development doesn't actually do much development of superhumans. You've got branding and public relations down, Victory Comics make most teams at least slightly profitable… But there are basically no attempts made to actually upskill existing superheroes. I'm painfully aware that most of my peers have no skills beyond brute force and I've seen the casualty figures that approach generates. Even superhumans you have on your radar since birth don't really get any training. There are those pageant things, then if they meet the grade on their own they're assigned to a manager… But not a tutor."

"What did you propose to do about it?"

"My original proposal was to take a youth group and give them various useful forms of tuition. Have a paramedic lecture them on first aid and emergency care, a fireman on firefighting, someone from Red River to lecture them on firearms and.. how to conduct yourself in a fight. Since the conceit would be that this was how all superheroes were trained anyway, they wouldn't be functioning in the field for some time. I thought that the costs could be defrayed by turning it into a reality television series. In the long term of course, the costs required to manage them would be reduced because they wouldn't create as much of a mess in the first place as…"

"Most current superheroes." Ms Bradley give me a wry smile. "I do understand where you're coming from, Mister Lantern, but that concept is something that would require a great deal more study before I could approve it."

"I understand." And I do. I really do. Superheroes are a roller coaster for Vought-American. They make them a great deal of money, but at the same time the slightest thing goes wrong and it can get very messy. Godolkin was the worst, but some of the things the others get up to… They're going to be nervous about any change. "My alternate proposal was to assign me to Superduper." Her eyes widen slightly. "Superduper are a cash… Well, not a cow. A calf? They don't cause any trouble that can't be dealt with by normal insurance, they turn enough of a profit year on year that it's worth keeping them going... But they themselves are going nowhere. What they can achieve is.. basically nothing, due to lack of skills, lack of useful powers-" I don't know who thought 'Ladyfold' was someone it made sense to put on a super team, but they need a slap around the head. "-and their low IQs." I lean forwards slightly, resting my chin on the back of my right hand. "Those are problems I am uniquely well equipped to deal with. It wouldn't cost a significant amount of money and it would let me test out the viability of my ideas concerning training."

"I was half expecting you to ask to transferred to the Seven. I understand you and Homelander hit it off at Herogasm."

I'm not sure exactly why he was flying naked in the middle of a flightpath, but whatever it was he appeared to give up on it once I turned up. Oh, he pretended he was just out for a flight, but I know for a fact that wasn't it. I'm not actually telepathic, but I get the feeling that there's something very wrong with him. More than the usual disregard for the lives of the squishy people. "Homelander notwithstanding, I don't think my profile's really there yet. Maybe in a few years…"

"I have a file on your own behavior at Herogasm. Apparently you spent the whole time playing a children's card game in your room."

"And healing the injured." My staff pulses. "Did you know that some of those sick bastards actually wait outside the medical-."

"I'm more curious as to why."

"For a start, Babylon Five isn't a children's card game. It's very complicated and I usually have trouble finding opponents. I mean, those ladies were there to keep us happy, right?" Whore procurement on a disturbingly epic scale. Dangerous work for them, considering how most superheroes here behave. Nice women for the most part. I fixed Bryony's son's cerebral palsy after it finished. "Wait, you're not planning to use that as an excuse not to pay them-?"

She shakes her head. "I also have a report that says that you broke up a number of people smuggling rings in the aftermath of the event. Without orders."

Whores I don't have a problem with. Their 'managers', on the other hand, I remonstrated with and then passed to the local authorities. "I was told that that sort of thing didn't require specific prior authorisation."

"It's been a while since we've had someone capable of acting on their own initiative in the way that you do." She closes a file and leans forwards. "Superduper.. had an… Experience, with-."

"Malchemical." I sit up, nodding slowly. "I know that winning them over won't be easy, but I'm confident I can make it work. I'm an easy man to like, and I already have an approach planned."

She nods. "Meet with the team. If you think you can make it work, I'll authorize it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAGG-"

Bereave, part 7

22nd October 2007
08:52 GMT -5

Alright, let's review what I've got to work with.

Superduper is a dumping ground for retarded and otherwise useless superhumans who somehow make it past Vought-American's screening process. It's nominally led by a baseline Human named Charlotte Miller, who used to work as a special needs teacher before government cutbacks led to her leaving that profession and being employed by Vought. She should be here in a few minutes, having handed her charges over to a former colleague for an hour.

The team consists of:
Aunty Sis, the aforementioned childminder.
Klanker, a shapeshifter with Tourette's Syndrome who transforms into iron objects. He can't control what he actually transforms into each time and the chance of it actually being something useful appears to be somewhat low.
Kid Camo, a protean shapeshifter who can make his epidermis -and whatever he's wearing, something I was very glad to find out- mimic the texture and colour of his surroundings. For about two minutes, whereupon he turns into a puddle of goo for a bit.
And that's about it as far as functional ones go. As for the rest:
Black Hole, who has some sort of semi-controllable portal in his throat.
Stool Shadow, who can sometimes move though solid objects. Using a trigger that is going to be the second thing I fix.
Ladyfold… Yes, technically that's 'superhuman', in the sense that normal women don't produce that much, but it isn't a power I'd wish on anyone. Otherwise she's one of the more normal members of the group.
And Bobby Badoing. His body fat has remarkably elastic properties. He suffers from low self esteem, low IQ and gluttony and is responsible for most of the actual damage the team do to their surroundings.

No real wonder no one wants to try doing anything much with them.

I'm in the reception area of the Mission Health Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina, and if an Indigo Lantern can't convince someone that he's a good guy after healing hundreds of sick people then he isn't worthy of his staff. Still, she's going to be sceptical. Last time Vought sent someone to take over it was Malchemical. I had to hack Vought servers in order to get a full report, and it made for disturbing reading. He started by merely being rude to the group and finished by attempting to rape the female members, only being prevented from doing so by the intervention of a man named William Butcher. Apparently Mister Butcher is part of some sort of anti-Vought CIA team. I've never met him myself. What he was doing there is anyone's guess, but I'm bloody glad he was. I sent him a thank-you note and some flowers at their office before I left New York.

Someone -female and irritated from the sound of it- clears her throat behind me. I turn around and give Ms Miller a warm smile. Ah, excellent, she isn't in costume. I extend my right hand. "Ms Miller, pleased to meet-."

"Can we just skip it?" She glowers at me. Impressive. Usually being near my lantern makes people at least a little amiable. "I don't know what you did to get sent here, and frankly I don't care. Let's just sort out some sort of publicity thing and then you can stay the-. The heck away from my team."

"Alright. Firstly, I'm here because I asked to be." She rolls her eyes. "Perhaps a demonstration of good will?" A small box appears from subspace and floats over to her. "A present for Ms Kalmar."

She sighs, slumping slightly as she reaches out to pluck it from my indigo aura. "Just.. don't call her that. Don't call any of them that. It's just about the only source of self esteem-." She opens the box and her eyes widen. "Why am I even surprised that you'd-!"

"It's a medicine. It should help with her 'problem'."

She pulls the syringe out and takes a closer look. "How?"

"Vought were kind enough to grant me access to everything they have on Compound V. I developed that. It's got a long and complicated chemical name, but I call it 'Purge'. It completely removes every trace of V from a person's system, shutting down whatever exotic abilities they possess. Even turns your poo back to brown. I have more, but it seemed to me that she was the one most likely to benefit from it."

"Is it tested?"

I nod. "Vought has.. people in their custody, people who had worse reactions to the stuff than your friends. Their families sign them over because they can't afford to look after them-."

"And you took advantage."

"I healed them. They get to live normal lives now." I shrug. "Would you rather I left them there?"

She takes a deep breath to steady herself, then closes the box and slips it into her handbag. "Why did you want to meet me here?"

"I wanted a chance to convince you to give me a try before meeting the rest of your team. I fully expect them to react even worse to me than you did." Let's see… Children's ward? I start walking. "Would you please come this way?"

"Alright, I suppose I could… This better not be some kind of set up, though."

"There's a story there. Oh." I take a file out of subspace. "This is my file, everything Vought knows about me and a few of my own observations."

I hear the binder open. "Saul Talbot, huh?"

"Close enough. Mm, what do you think of my costume? Brand went for a sort of sexy, metro Gandalf the Younger thing, but it's a bit of a clash with what the rest of you wear and it's no real effort for me to get it changed."

"I don't like the staff. I don't want them being around weapons."

"I'm.. afraid that.. I'm stuck with the staff. But I can stick it in the corner of the room instead of keeping it on me, if that's any good?"

"I s-. Mind altering?"

Ah, page four. "Yes. People in proximity are nudged to behave more compassionately. The effect appears to be cumulative, gradually reverting to normal after a period of absence. I should point out, however, that I've been more or less constantly exposed for the past seven months. I really don't think that a small compassion nudge is going to do much to the team."

She keeps reading. "Wait, you can really do all these things?"

"Yes. I'm happy to demonstrate later, if you like."

"And you.. asked to be transferred here."

"The alternative appeared to be Team Titanic. Not saying they couldn't do with learning to be a bit more compassionate but I don't think I could help them in any more fundamental way."

"What.. sort of.. 'help'..?"

"I aim to make your team all that they can be. I aim to understand their limitations and remove them if at all possible."

"They're happy how they are."

I glance at her. "Are they? Does that explain why Mister Badoing weighs as much as five normal people? Or why Ms Shadow is covered in bruises? They need help that -with the best will in the world- you can't provide. But I can. If you'll let me."

"Prove it."

"Why do you think we're here?" I look down the corridor. "Ah! Doctor. Are we ready?"

Doctor Reid is on a retainer from Vought to report anything they might be interested in to them before the proper authorities. This is probably going to be the least immoral thing she's done for them.

"Yes, I can take you to the terminal cases. Getting the parents to sign off on a superhero helping was no trouble at all."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Are you certain this is going to work?"

"Yes, completely. Thoroughly tested, if not exactly FDA approved. You know they don't have authority to regulate superpowers."

She nods, a little reluctantly. "Well, in here we have-."

Timothy Ketz, aged eleven, a really quite aggressive form of leukaemia. He's bald, visibly withered and now he isn't. He breathes in suddenly and sits up in astonishment.

"Next, please."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
10:03 GMT -6

"I don't think.. I understand."

Lynne frowns slightly as we walk along the road out of Rifle in the general direction of Challenger Mountain. Yes, it would have been easier tubing back but -observant chap that I am- I spotted that my new daughter had something she wanted to get off her chest. She waited until we got away from the built up areas. After all, we may be bonding well but we haven't actually spent all that much time together. I don't mind having my decisions challenged -I even put up with Richard- but I imagine that it's more than a little hard for her to bring herself to do so.

"Okay? Ask away. It's my job to explain things to you."

"You gave.. Amane.. superspeed."

"Uh-huh."

"And she's going to kill the man who she says murdered her parents."

"Oh, he did. I opened a hush tube and had Sinestro scan her house for biological material. Skin cells all over the place. Probably scratching his face.. orrrr maybe he sneezed."

"I.. thought.. you were… A superhero."

"Okay, stop." She does, turning to face-.

Oh, no. Not having that. I crouch down. "Lynne. There is nothing wrong with questioning me. Friends.. and family, who are prepared to tell you things you need to hear and don't want to are very valuable things. I am not perfect. And-" I nod my head to the left. "-I'm here to teach you things. I can hardly do that if you're afraid to ask me questions."

I spread out my arms and do my best harmless face. "Hug?" She smiles, stepping up to me and wrapping her arms around my neck, her head pressed against the right side of my chin. This is nice. "Okay." She pulls away a little, her hands resting on my shoulders. "Better?" She nods. "Okay. Whether or not I'm a superhero depends on how you define 'superhero'. Most superheroes don't kill people. You know full well that I do. However, the people I kill are either mindless -like the guards at the SHADE prison that were holding you- or very very bad, like Klarion and Esak. Killing someone is a big deal, and… I know of no reliable way to reverse it. If the job of a superhero is to keep as many people alive as possible, then a simple look suggests that a superhero shouldn't kill. But what if they kill someone who would otherwise go on to murder lots of people?"

"Then.. those people don't die."

"Just so. I'm not quite that utilitarian, usually. But if I am presented with someone who has killed and.. whom I might reasonably expect to kill again… Kill innocent people…" Hm. "Or at least people not guilty of anything very much-."

She nods slowly, her eyes turned to the side as she gets her head around the idea. Probably a bit much moral philosophy for an eleven year old. "Then you've saved them. You've saved more people than you would have by not killing."

"I don't know if the man who killed Amane's parents had killed before. He may have, he may not. But when confronted with the people whose home he was robbing, he stabbed them to death. He stabbed them repeatedly. He did that in preference to threatening them and running. I strongly suspect that, if left in the wild, he would kill again if a similar situation arose. Plus, Japan does have the death penalty for murder, so… Their society has decided that it's the correct way to treat people like that."

"And that's the other part of my justification. When you can act on the sort of scale that we can, you have to decide what sort of world you want to live in. How you would like… No, how you believe things should work. In my case, I'm trying to persuade-."

There's a rush of wind as Amane precipitates out of the air next to us. She's beaming, a not entirely sane glint in her eye. The armour I designed for her borrows from her preferred 'perky goth' style of dress. Decorative, but providing a sensible degree of protection. Though I was never going to make her the high heels which she wanted I compromised and gave the boots a bit more of a slant than the ones I wear have. Balanced over her shoulder and supported by her right hand is an Apokolips-tech scythe capable of cleaving through just about anything I was able to test it on.

There's quite a lot of blood on the blade and splattered across the left side of her face.

I stand. "Your revenge is complete?"

"Yes, Master."

"Very well then. Assuming that there are no pressing demands on your time in Japan, I think now is a good time to show you the Mount-"

Bzzzt.

"-ain." I frown slightly. "Or possibly not."

"What is it, Master?"

She must.. know that the blood's there, right? She isn't reacting to it, blinking or wiping it away. "Doctor Robbins wants something." I raise my right hand to my ear. "Go ahead."

"Something just happened in Philadelphia."

"When you say 'something'..?"

"The nearest phenomenon on record is one of your hush tubes, but apparently it doesn't quite match."

"Hush tubes are hardly the only stealthy sort of portal. When did this happen?"

"Maybe.. three minutes ago?"

I nod. "Right. Got an exact location?"

"Near the Academy of Natural Sciences is the best I can do. There's nothing on local news yet."

"Still worth checking out. Get Jean to put a squad of G-Elves together in case we need to do crowd control, then give me a hush tube."

I see the outline of a hush tube form in the air in front of me. "Way ahead of you, Grayven."

Miss Amane looks at me curiously. "Master?"

"Did I hear someone just call you 'master'? Am I calling at a bad time?"

"I've recruited someone. I'll introduce you when we get back. Let you know what I find. Grayven out." I lower my right hand. "Iname."

Her smile heads right into slasher territory. "Yes, Master?"

"We have a job. I'm afraid that you're going to need to-" I waggle my left hand at the left side of my own face. "-clean up a little. If that's alright?" She makes a tiny frown, then touches the left side of her face with her left fore and middle fingers before pulling them away and staring at the sticky red substance on the end in apparent surprise. Okay then. A wave of yellow and the blood vanishes. "Okay, girls." Another beam and Lynne's armour reappears. "Someone just opened a portal in Philadelphia. We don't know who they are or why they did it. We're going to have a quick look around and see if we can find out what's going on." Miss Amane moves her right hand to the haft of her scythe. I hold up my right hand to stop her. "No, that might not be required. Hang back a little while Lynne and I look around. And.. stow it for now."

"Yes, Master." The scythe vanishes. I built it with a subspace storage system linked to her nascent divine signature. She can pretty much disappear it or summon it to her whenever she wants, and while she can almost certainly get away with walking around central Philadelphia dressed like that the scythe would draw a little too much attention. Hm. Might be worth creating 'low impact' armour suits for myself and Lynne.

"Lynne, stick with me and keep your eyes open. Look for anything out of the ordinary."

"You mean like us?"

"Other than us. Ready?" Miss Amane nods immediately, Lynne a moment later. "Okay then." I hold out my left hand and Lynne takes it in her right. Together, we step through the hush tube and into Philadelphia.

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
09:09 GMT -5

"Alright Lynne, look around, and see if-"

Lynne points. "Her."

I plough on. "-you can work out-"

"Her. It's obviously her."

I smile benevolently down at her. "-which of these people does not belong."

She gives me a moment, just to make sure that I've finished. "Her."

I look over to the young woman she indicated. "And what makes you say that?"

"She's.. trying to walk on all fours."

I nod. "On her fingertips and toes, actually." The young woman in question collapses onto her side again. "But she could just be on drugs."

Lynne shakes her head. "Too clean and healthy. And.. I think her balance is actually okay. She's just trying to do something Humans can't do. Like.. she doesn't really know how Humans move?"

I nod. "Very good. What else?"

"She's speaking a language I don't recognise."

I raise my eyebrows. "I didn't know you spoke languages other than English."

She gives her head a small shake. "I can't, but most languages have the same sort of.. noises? She sounds like some sort of animal."

"There are some pretty odd-sounding languages out there, but okay. Not something I'd have noticed. Anything else?"

"The yellow stripes in her hair. The color's wrong for them to be bleached, and it's too even to be dyed."

"That could be Chimeraism."

She frowns up at me. "What's that?"

"That's where a person's body contains cells with different genetic information. Parts of her scalp could have the bit which says 'blonde' and other parts the bit which says 'red'."

She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head. "I don't think real people have hair that red."

"It's unusual, certainly. And I don't think Human irises come in that shade of turquoise. Anything else?"

"She… Feels… Weird."

"You mean-" I point to my forehead with my right hand. "-telepathically?"

Lynne's eyes widen slightly for a moment. "No! No, I'm not-!"

I reach across to where I'm holding her right hand in my left and pat it. "It's okay. It's okay." She calms down again. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I… Don't know? I can just sort of.. feel her, I guess?"

I nod. "I can too. Soul sense. It's a magic ability, sensing other concentrations of power."

"Is she a witch?"

"Hah! Oh. Maybe. It doesn't feel quite like… You haven't met any other magic users yet, but there's something… Off, about it. Anything else?"

"She's scared. I can tell from how she's looking at things around her, then looking away and trying to pretend they're not there."

"Threat assessment?"

Lynne shakes her head. "She's not a threat. Well… Maybe to herself. We should go talk to her."

I nod. "I agree. Here." A yellow filament connects us as I share my ring's translation function. "That should let you understand her. Let me do most of the talking, but tap me on the hand if you want to join in. Okay?"

Lynne nods her affirmation, then together we walk past the Swann Memorial Fountain towards the young woman lying slightly curled up on her side. She looks perilously close to tears, actually. We come to a stop about three metres away and I release Lynne's hand as I kneel down to speak to her. "Excuse me, Miss? Are you alright?"

Her eyes widen at the sound of my voice. Ah, of course, I'd be the first thing she's heard in her own language since she got here. "Fine! Yep. Totally fine."

"I ask, because you appear to be unfamiliar with bipedal locomotion." I hold out my right hand with a smile. "Can I offer you a hand up?"

She gulps. Odd. Everything around us seems to scare her, but my size and obvious physical differences don't appear to warrant special attention. Just the fact that I'm the bit intruding in her space. "Ah…" Her eyes flick to Lynne for a moment. "Please?"

I shuffle forwards, taking hold of the sides of her torso under her arms and lifting until her feet are dangling just off the ground. "Alright, now hold your feet parallel to the ground…" Her toes point down. "No no, your foot is the flat bit… Lynne, would you mind demonstrating?" Lynne obediently turns sideways, lifting her right foot off the ground and bringing it down again in an exaggerated stomp.

The young lady I'm holding looks at Lynne's foot for a moment, then down at her own as they wiggle slightly. "I don't think I can."

Lynne takes the initiative, coming closer and pushing her feet into the right position. There's a look of disquiet on her face, but she gives me a nervous nod and I gently set her down. Almost immediately she tries to go up onto her toes and collapses into my waiting hands. "No, not like that. I know it feels weird and counterintuitive, but really try to stick with it."

"O-okay." With great care she returns her feet to the parallel position and I lower her to the ground once again, holding onto her to see if her en pointe habit reasserts itself. No, she seems to have gotten herself under control. "Okay. I think I got it."

"Standing still, yes." But I move my hands away as I rise to my own feet. "My name's Grayven, and this is Lynne."

"Graven and Linn, right. Ah, hello!" She smiles with enthusiasm borne of her desire to move beyond what must have been quite an embarrassing first encounter for her. "My name's Sunset Shimmer." She holds out her right fist towards me, fingertips first. "Pleased to meet you."

I bump fists with her. "Locally, that gesture is made with an open hand. Like so." I flatten mine, fingers pointing towards her and blade downwards. "Can you do that?"

A momentary flicker of uncertainty. "Um. I…" Her fist shakes a little, but the fingers don't uncurl. "Aagh!" I grab her again as she nearly falls over. "Why can't I make this stupid body do what I want it to!"

"Alright, calm down, calm down. What morphology are you used to?"

"Ungulate quadruped! How do you.. balance on..?" Her face stills as she realises what she just said. "Um."

"We detected the portal. You rather stood out." I regard her curiously. "The portal itself transformed you?"

"I.. think so. I came through like this, wearing these.. clothes. And those-" She looks over to where what I presume to be her boots lie on the grass. "-foot.. boots."

"And you didn't.. test it beforehand?" She averts her eyes. Ah. "Clothes. You were.. naked on the far side?"

"I wasn't cold enough to need clothes." She frowns, this time with curiosity. "What species are you?"

"I'm.. somewhat unique. Most of the people around here are Humans."

"Taxologically?"

"Animalia-" She nods. "-Chordata Synapsida Mammalia-"

"I worked that out."

"-Primates-"

"You're Monkeys?" She looks at her fists. "I'm a Monkey now?"

"-Haplorhini Hominidae Homo Sapiens Sapiens. And no, not Monkeys. Apes."

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay." She gestures left with her left fist. "If you can just get me over there, I'll go back through the portal and pretend none of this ever happened."

"Ahhhh."

"What?" She looks straight at me, fear bubbling in her eyes. "'Ahhhh' what?"

"I'm sorry, it's… Already closed. If you.. can't reopen it on your own, you're… Pretty much stuck here."

"No, that can't be right! The book said it stays open for three days!"

"Did you.. check? I mean.. before..?"

This time the deep breath doesn't quite seem to do it as she throws back her head, presses her fists to her cheeks and screams her despair to the heavens!

"Nooooooooooooooooooo!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
09:21 GMT -5

When I saw that the nearest café was a Sundollar, I nearly tried to lead Miss Shimmer somewhere else. Fortunately for her, Lynne stopped me with a raised eyebrow. Yeah, okay, my contempt for the place isn't entirely rational… It isn't as if I'm ever going to be in a position where I'm going to need to make use of the services their untaxed switched profits aren't paying for, but when something arouses my ire I tend to stay properly ired up.

Lynne took the window seat facing the door and I sat down next to her after helping Miss Shimmer into the seat opposite. She's staring moodily at her coffee, as if trying to drink it with her mind.

"Do you want me to get you a straw?"

"I don't-." She exhales, looking away from it and me to the view through the window. "I can't do anything! I can't even pick things up with these claw-things-."

"They're called 'hands'." Lynne picks up her milkshake. "Like this, see?" Miss Shimmer gives her a dejected look, then taps her right fist fingertips-first into the side of her cup. "Oh."

I raise my left eyebrow. "If you used to have hooves, how did you pick things up? I mean, we could get you a.. sippy cup or something if you used your mouth?"

"I used my horn."

I screw up my eyes. How would that work? "Was it prehensile?"

"No." She scowls at me, trying to work out whether I'm mocking her or not. "My horn was the focus of my magic. Moving things with thaumokinesis is easy." She goes back to staring at her cup. "At least it.. was."

I frown. "Thaumo-."

She rolls her eyes. "It means-."

"I know what it means." I look her over again. The hair.. sort of fits... "This might sound odd, but… Were you a Pony?"

Her eyes widen. "Yes! Are there other Ponies around here? Do you know another way for me to get home?"

"I… Sorry, ah…" I shake my head. "I've heard about a lot of different species, but…"

Lynne looks at me like I've said something weird. Yeah, okay, I'll give her that one. "She's a.. Pony? She doesn't look like a Pony."

"Equus Sapiens Monocerotos. I'm a Unicorn Pony." She makes a face. "I was, anyway. Stupid Monkey-body."

Lynne valiantly tries to take this in. "You were an intelligent Pony, and you came through a portal that turned you into a Human?"

"I didn't know it was going to do that! Now I'm stuck with hand-claws and no magic for Celestia knows how long!"

!!!

"Celestia. That would be the big white pony with the suns on her bum, right?"

"You know her?!"

"Um. Just.. stories, really." Okay, I'm in a Detective Comics universe. I've met Superman. There's nothing inherently more strange about encountering someone from Wilson. "Do.. you know her?"

"I-!" And she deflates again. "I was her student."

!PonyPonyPonyPonyPony!

"Like Twilight Sparkle?"

She frowns. "Who?"

Huh. Divergent timeline, or just an earlier point? Or.. later? Could ask about Princess Luna to establish that? No, she's going to start thinking I know where her home planet is and that I'm just keeping it from her. Um. "I do have some good news, however. As far as I can tell, your magic reserves are still as strong as ever. You just need to learn how to utilise them as a Human."

She holds up her right hand and manages to slightly uncoil her fingers. "With.. these things?"

"Human.. magic.. is more…" I wave my right hand as I try and summarise what I know in a way that would make sense to someone-. Somepony from Equestria. "Like… The world has all sorts of arcane systems in it already, so you're working out how to connect your bits to those bits to tweak them into doing what you want."

Miss Shimmer looks thoughtful. "That sounds a little like how Earth Pony magic works."

Lynne looks lost. "Earth Pony?"

Miss Shimmer nods. "Equestria was settled by three migrating tribes of Ponies. Unicorn Ponies, with their horns-" She moves her fist to indicate her forehead. "-that could focus their magics to do all sort of things, Pegasus Ponies, with their wings-"

Lynne gives her an incredulous look. "Ponies who can fly? Ponies can't fly."

"-and innate magics that reduced their effective weight so they can fly, as well as manipulate weather, and Earth Ponies, whose magics increased their physical strength and endurance as well as giving them simple instinctive floramantic abilities."

"Flora-?"

"They could make plants grow better."

"Oh."

I nod. "And Alicorns, who get all that and more." I reach across the table, pick up her cup in my right hand and hold it up to convenient drinking height. She hesitates for a moment, then dips her head and takes a small sip. "You did research into Earth Pony magic?"

She nods as she swallows. "As much as I could. Canterlot doesn't have farms, but the palace gardeners let me watch them work sometimes. Of course, I.. can't really push my magic out through my hooves anymore." She sighs.

"Why did you even come through the portal like that?"

"I…" She looks away. "Sort of… Fell out. With Princess Celestia." She hesitates again and then turns back to me. "The other side of the portal is a magic mirror. It.. showed me myself as an Alicorn. And, well, that seemed like the best goal for my research.. and Celestia wouldn't tell me anything about how you become an Alicorn. I guess I just thought the mirror could help me… Ascend." Another sigh. "And instead it turned me into a Monkey."

"Ape."

"What's so good about being an Alicorn?" Lynne shrugs. "If you could use magic anyway…"

"Alicorns don't age. If I became an Alicorn I'd have all the time in the universe to learn magic, the magics of all three tribes instead of just Unicorn magic. And having the magic of all three tribes makes their magic much stronger." This time it's a huff. "I'd know more if Celestia had actually helped me."

Lynne looks at me. "So… Like us?"

Miss Shimmer frowns. "Like us what?"

"Grayven can do a thing he calls 'Awakening' where he alters you so you can become much more powerful."

Miss Shimmer looks at me in astonishment. "You can do that?"

"I can do that to Humans. I've never done it to a Pony before. Your metaphysique is probably quite different."

"I'm a Human now."

"Yes, but I assume that you're going to want to go home at some point." Hmm. "Okay, here's what I think we should do. You need a place to stay, people who can understand your language, research materials and, um…" I nod at her right fist. "Physical therapy."

She looks at her right fist too. "Ye-eah."

"If you want to sign on with me, I can arrange that."

She looks a little suspicious. "You'll let me study you?"

"Hah. I am a fascinating subject. And I can probably find you a few other subjects as well. Iname?"

A puff of air and Miss Amane is sitting next to Miss Shimmer, who looks around in shock. "Ah! How did you-! Teleportation? No, that wouldn't-."

Miss Amane smiles beatifically. "Master gave me the power to move at super speed."

Miss Shimmer starts to smile. "Oh, I'm going to study the hay out of this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-GGGGG-"

Defector, part 5

7th August 2010
08:21GMT -5

Even after being.. 'accepted' by the Syndicate, I can't help but feel a little… No, let's be honest here, more than a little nervous about being called into Ultraman's office. Okay, so my status as a Made Man and Ultraman's appreciation of my work so far as team supervisor -not caretaker, Jackie- means that I can come in from the street, walk up to the lift and press the button for the penthouse without anyone stopping me, but… Some of the things I've learned about his personal history from Syndicate files were.. deeply unsettling to me. And that's not even starting on the police and Justice Underground files I've been able to lay my hands on.

The lift chimes, the doors open and I walk out into the hallway beyond. I think a few of the pictures have been changed since last time I was here. Does that mean that someone fell out of favour, or do they just get rotated on a regular basis? Ah, I see. The new ones all have Jon in them. Ultraman may be a violent criminal but he's really gone all out to make Jon feel like one of the family.

Kin-family, not Syndicate Family. Though that too.

I come to a halt just outside the door to Ultraman's office. As far as I've been able to tell, Ultraman doesn't have a secretary in the conventional sense. After all, who could he trust who isn't already doing something more important? Instead, he remembers appointments himself and sets approximate times for things. I was told to be here 'early morning, after breakfast' and that was when I realised that I had no idea what he considers to be breakfast time. Do I knock? Oooor should I find someone to ask-?

"Get in here, Blue."

Super hearing does make things easier. I take hold of the handle, turn it and push the door open. Ultraman is standing on the balcony, looking out over the city he might reasonably claim to own. His pose certainly implies it if his accountant can't prove it. His cape flutters majestically in the breeze. Or… Is there an antiheroic version of majestic? He certainly looks inspiring, if it's fear and obedience that you're looking to inspire. An icon for a harder, more realistic age.

"Reporting as ordered, Ultraman. What can I do for you?"

Jon told me that Ultraman actually gets a kick out of me going 'full English' when I speak to him, so I've been brushing up on my diction. Never hurts to put your boss in a positive frame of mind, especially when your boss is a serial killer.

Ultraman remains scanning the skyline for a moment. Are we actually expecting trouble, I wonder? The country is.. stable, at the moment. With the Justice Underground thoroughly underground, Lex Luthor in hiding and President Wilson nobbled there shouldn't be anyone who could seriously threaten this building… Ultraman turns away and strides back in through the door, waving a hand to trigger the closing mechanism behind him as he walks around his desk to sit down. He looks at me for a moment, then waves his right hand in the direction of the free chair on this side. "Take a load off."

"Thank you, Ultraman." I walk over and sit down. "Jon not joining us?"

"Nah. This is…" He looks a little pensive. "This ain't about the team. I wanna.. talk t'you about this thing Owlman came up with."

"I am at your disposal. What.. sort of thing?"

"He wants to build a bomb. A real big one."

I frown slightly and shake my head. "City killer size?"

"Nah. This one would be big enough t'kill a whole planet."

"Is the Syndicate going interstellar?"

Ultraman shakes his head, and I realise that he's not looking at me. Humans instinctively avoid looking at face-shaped objects when thinking hard about something and it looks like it's the same for Kryptonians. "He wants it as leverage. Way he sees it, we get a bomb that powerful then we can threaten the world's governments into surrender."

The fuck? "Okay?"

"Now, me? I prefer to do things subtle. Less trouble, less chance fer things to go wrong. But, he's got a point. Blackmailing Wilson turned out t'be a whole lot easier than stayin' under the radar." His eyes come back to me. "Somethin' this big, I wanna be sure in my own mind before I say 'yes' or 'no'. You're a smart guy and you're not… You don't think like the rest of us long time Syndicate types. So. " He leans back in his chair, hands resting on his abdomen. "What'd'ya think?"

"My… Instinctive response is that it's a bad idea."

He nods. "Thought ya might say that." He motions with his right hand. "Convince me."

"One of the first things I learned from Al Scott.. is that you don't make a threat you're not prepared to carry out. Because there's always a chance someone will call your bluff, then you end up looking weak."

"What makes you think Owlman wouldn't push the button?"

"Oh, no. I know he would. Superwoman too. But that's because they're mental." A slight smile. "Okay… You're blowing up the Earth. Where are you when this is happening?"

He shrugs. "The moon base."

"Alright. Let's assume that no rubble from the Earth hits the moon and destroys either the whole moon or just the base. And that the bomb doesn't destroy the moon anyway. And let's assume that the majority of the Earth's mass stays in roughly the same place so the moon's orbit isn't adversely affected. What are you planning to eat that day?"

He frowns. "What's that got to do with anythin'?"

"The Syndicate's moon base has food stores for about a month. With the Earth gone there's no way to replenish them. There's a water recycling system so you could probably stretch it out to two months if you had to, but then you'd start starving. And that's assuming you're just talking about evacuating the Management; if you bring Jon and Superwoman brings the other Supers and.. so on, it would be a fraction of that."

Ultraman nods slowly. "Okay. I grew up on a farm…"

"Farming on the moon would be.. difficult, without a lot of preparations. Assuming you install vertical farms and don't mind a monotonous diet it's doable, but you're talking about at least a year planning, testing and building and a lot of money. And again, that's just for management and immediate family. What do you think would happen the moment the rest of the Syndicate -Made Men or not- found out you were planning to blow up the planet they were standing on and not evacuating them?"

This nod is a bit more definite. "They'd do everything they could t' stop us."

"Right. So… The only way you could do it would be to take the entire organisation with you. That takes you from seven to…" I shake my head. "I don't even know how many. Thousands at least. And what about their families? Children, spouses, parents… They're not all going to be Syndicate members. You'd be looking at setting up a city on the moon for millions of people. And defending it, because when the world's governments work out what you're doing you better believe they're going to pull out all of the stops to stop you. I.. don't even know how to work out how much that would cost. We could probably do it, but it would take every spare penny the Syndicate had and massive amounts of manpower. And that's not even getting on to the really serious problem."

He raises his eyebrows slightly. "More serious than starvin' t' death?"

I nod. "Oh yes. The question is: what do you do the next day? The Earth's gone and you don't have faster than light spacecraft. The only place you can go is the moon base. You-" I gesture to him with both hands. "-are now Governor General of all that remains of the Human species. Given all the people you'd have to evacuate to get that far the gene pool probably isn't a problem, but do you have teachers? Doctors? All of the people with the specialist skills needed to keep a civilisation going? Are they going to be on the moon city permanently? Because people like the people who make up the majority of the Syndicate won't react well to being cooped up. What's the next move? Where are you going to go?"

He looks away for a moment. "Mars, maybe?"

"I don't imagine that Mister J'arkus' people would be particularly happy to see us. You could set up a mining industry, build ships and colonise the system, but that's an even bigger undertaking and you'd be looking at everyone living in artificial habitats… Terraforming… No work's been done on actually doing that. There are.. theoretical models, but none of them would be quick if they worked at all. You'd be looking at generations, at best."

"Put it that way, the whole thing sounds like a dumb idea."

"I'm a little surprised he suggested it. I mean-" Ugh. "-a city-killer is a viable threat, especially if it doesn't give off radiation or other poisons. If worldwide destruction is what you're looking for, a biological weapon would serve far better than an explosive. Far easier to hide an immunisation program than making a massive city in space. But even so…" I shake my head. "The whole thing sounds like a massive White Elephant that would make more problems than it would solve."

"Bribing governments is expensive. Maybe I think we could convince them we're serious without needin' to use the bomb."

"Bit of a risk, but okay. Ultraman, you run the Syndicate as a business. You know that the threat of violence achieves more than actual violence. That a little violence nudges things along while a lot of violence just riles them up. The government's used to taking your money. That's.. part of the system they're used to. Giving it to them gets you more money, that's why you do it. No one on their end is looking to rock the boat. What does having a planet killer bomb get you that you don't have now?"

"Whole lotta nothin'." He nods, then stands. My signal to leave. "Thanks, Blue. You've given me a lotta stuff t' think about."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
21:31 GMT

"-GGGHHHHHHH!" I plummet from the sky, frantically grabbing at the robotic insect thing on my chest. I hurl it away about half a second before I hit the snow just outside the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station. Boowf! Construct armour holds out, but I get a rather confused few seconds as black sky and orange snow fly past.

Uuuuuuuuuuugh.

Ring. The fuck.

"Lantern and ring ceased to exist for approximately-."

"Oh, don't you give me that." I let the construct armour fade away, then push myself into an upright position. Environmental shield, don't fail me now. "I did not cease to exist. I formed memories. I was-." Blue.. me. He tried to persuade Ultraman not to build the bomb. And… That was The Boys. As an Indigo. He.. didn't remember reading The Boys. Red was Teen Titans and he didn't remember that either.

I move to a kneeling position, staring out across the Antarctic wilderness. But… They each remembered DC in general, but not the place they ended up. I…

Oh gods.

I don't remember this, and… It didn't occur to any of them to think about it. Should I..? Did I..? Did I once watch or read some sort of updated Teen Titans thing that I can't remember? I… I assumed that I was from something like comic Earth Prime, the.. boring one. So… Did each of them come from different Earth Primes, or… Are we all versions of the same person? Is-? Do we have some original, sitting at home in Hampden Park, still… Going to work like a normal person?

Urm..?

Ambush Bug had fourth wall awareness, didn't he? And teleportation using… Bugs. Shitringwhere'ditgo?!

I haul myself to my feet as the ring highlights an area of snow. Okay, um, don't think touching that is a good idea. I'll just get-.

"Orange Lantern!" I look around as Tula runs across the snow towards me. "Tula to team, Orange Lantern has reappeared."

"Orange Lantern, report. What happened?"

"Not.. completely sure, Aqualad. Ambush Bug tagged me with something that looked like a mechanical insect. Next thing I knew I was living parallel universe versions of my own life. Ah, I'm not hurt, but I am still a bit weirded out about the whole thing."

Tula gets close enough to give me a quick visual inspection. "He is alright."

"Doctor Schwab disappeared immediately after attacking you. The interior of the dome returned to its pre-beach state and the staff are uninjured."

"Right." I turn in the direction of the main building. "The bug thing he used to.. displace me is still here. It appears to be inactive."

"Bring it with you. We are in the main building-."

"Sorry, Aqualad, I'm a bit nervous about touching it again."

Tula gestures, her tattoos glowing. The ice immediately around the insect melts, rising up into a short pillar with the insect buoyed to near the top. Ah, I know that spell! It's the same supercharged surface tension thing Kaldur's water-bearers do, only she can direct it without artificial aids. "I have it. We will be with you shortly."

We both start trudging in the direction of the Station. Rings, remaining power?

Sixteen percent remaining.

Ugh.

"What was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"The alternate universes. Other versions of your life? I have been wondering what it would be like since our fight at the LexCorp building. What would have happened if their version of Kaldur hadn't eaten her."

"I don't think he said that he'd eaten her, just that he'd eaten their version of Garth. For all we know she's alive and well."

Tula nods. "Did you see the Blue Lantern again?"

"See? Sort of… I… Experienced a few hours of his life from his perspective. As if I lived it myself, thinking his thoughts. Remembering his memories. He… Heh." I look down for a moment. "He actually got strong armed into joining the Syndicate after he tried to stop a mugging without realising that he was in a country more or less run by supervillains. The people he fought were Made Men…"

"That's terrible. Why didn't he just ask to stay here?"

"The bit I saw… It was months before they came here. At the time he was just trying to make the best of a bad situation." I sigh. "I'd like to think he was telling us the truth, but I don't have hard evidence either way."

"What else did you see?"

"A version of me with a red power ring. Red rings-."

"Are powered by anger and hate."

I nod. "He couldn't use it to build things like I do, so he'd settled for… Making a list of the worst people in the world and killing them. It's.. logical. It's probably the most efficient way to benefit the world if all you can do is kill things. I did… One of the visions of my desires I confronted when I was trying to separate myself from the Ophidian was of me-. This me, doing that."

"Did you.. see him kill anyone?"

I shake my head. "No, I wasn't… In his head long enough." I get a sudden flash of what having sex with Komand'r was like.

My goodness me.

Tamaran 16… What with the destruction of their industrial infrastructure by the Citadel and the siege-like conditions they live in now Tamaranians are never seen outside of the Vega Systems here. They certainly can't fly at faster than light speeds under their own power.

"The second one was using a Qwardian power ring rip off. He.. killed a lot of people, but… He was acting under the threat of torture and death himself, and they were all murderers." One of Jordan's old mission reports mentioned antithesis rings, but there wasn't anything on the database on John's ring. Classified, maybe? I should probably ask one of them about it, because if our version of Qward is actively gathering information in that way that's something the Greenies need to get on top of.

"And then there was an Indigo Lantern on an Earth where superheroes were super-violent celebrities who hardly ever did anything heroic. They mostly just did publicity work for a psychopathic corporation, which covered up all their misdeeds in order to protect their revenue stream."

"Weren't any of them anywhere nice?"

Um… "No. Not really. I suppose if you give a 'me' a power ring we all just feel obliged to actually use it. Might have been interesting to get the perspective of a businessman Lantern or aaaa… Pure uplift Lantern or something? I don't really know what the selection criteria were. Any background on Schwab?"

"His co-workers say he was just a mild mannered climatologist. He volunteered to go out and have a look at the crash site in case it was a plane and there were any survivors."

"On his own?"

She shrugs. "He was already outside. He was just supposed to take a quick look and then radio back. The next thing they knew, he was dressed in a green costume and they were on a Hawaiian beach. An actual Hawaiian beach. We checked, and a section of the Hawaiian coastline got covered in snow and ice while he was doing it."

"So he swapped them around rather than creating it whole cloth." I nod. "Okay, that's useful to know. What happened to-?"

Just ahead of us the door to the Station opens and Rob steps out. "Mate? You got enough power to get us back?"

"Just.. about? Assuming there are no other upsets? Why?"

"Great granddad gets cranky if I'm late, that's all."

"Well… Ambush Bug isn't here and we've got the pod. We'll have to see what Kaldur and Icon think, but I can't see any reason to stay. We'll probably be heading back in a few minutes."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
16:48 GMT -5

"Orange Lantern. I have been meaning to ask you a question."

Mister Freeman is watching me thoughtfully as I look away from where the Atlanteans are manoeuvring the alien pod onto a STAR Labs flatbed lorry with gelatinous water pseudopods. Not much longer and we can all go home. I. Have. No idea what I'm going to put in my report about my experiences. "Sir?"

"Doctor Schwab accused you of being an 'SI'. I have been trying to determine what he meant by that, and I have been unable to do so. Does it mean anything to you?"

Well… Yes… "The use of the phrase which I am most familiar with… It would mean 'self insert'." He frowns slightly as he tries to work out what that means. "It's a term used in fiction to… Some authors create lead characters which are essentially them. Maybe… How they would ideally like to be… Or… Covering up their worst characteristics… The example that immediately comes to mind in published fiction is the character Jack Reacher being an idealised version of the author Lee Childs. But, um, any.. author is bound to put some aspects of their character and experiences into what they're writing…"

Mister Freeman stands there quietly for a moment. "Ambush Bug believes you to be a fictional character?"

No, Leonardo, we don't need to go any deeper. This is already far far too deep.

"He also said 'canon for the canon god, scribes for the scribe throne'. That was a clear reference to the fictional battlecry of the followers of the fictional chaos god Khorne: 'Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne'."

"I am not familiar with-."

"Games Workshop. Their Warhammer setting. Khorne is chaos god of martial strife and bloodletting. Using it implies that I was literally driving him berserk. And.. possibly that he would be rewarded by a deity for killing me."

Mister Freeman nods. "A somewhat unusual motive."

"For conventional crime, certainly. For supervillains?"

"Most of the criminals I have fought to apprehend have been essentially mundane. Those who were not at least had mundane motives. Perhaps you would be best advised to speak with Batman." There's a slight hesitation. "Unless your empathic vision revealed more information about his motive."

I shake my head. "Couldn't see a thing. Probably.. the same as whatever was blocking my ring scans."

"Do you think his motivation is religious?"

"What, that he's a literal Khorne-worshipper? I think it's unlikely."

"Then I remain puzzled by his use of the word 'canon'. What body of texts does he believe that you are causing the world to deviate from?"

DC canon, presumably. Reed Richards -or whoever his opposition counterpart is- may be useless, but I'm not. Does Ambush Bug find acting outside the normal superheroic tropes offensive? Of course, there's a.. worse explanation. Before I came here, I was… I had only just started reading Hiver's stuff on Spacebattles. I'd just finished my Imperial Guard Tank Company and had ordered the bitz I needed to assess the feasibility of making a mega armoured Boar using a Juggernaut of Khorne and a Fantasy Boar's head. I wasn't really.. getting anywhere, and…

The alternative project…

I shudder. No. No. That sort of thing doesn't happen. And even if it did, I wouldn't know about it. It's like Descartes' Demon, there's no evidence for it. And… Yes, the other characters in settings with 4th wall breakers tend to just assume that they're insane when they are in fact right, and… That's pretty much what I'm trying to do here... No, it's stupid. It doesn't matter if I am fictional. This is the world I experience, that I live in. The people I have emotional attachments to. I can't just abandon that because someone -who probably is just a madman- shouts stuff at me. Head down, walk on.

It's that, or I try hunting down Alan Moore or Grant Morrison, and I'm just not ready for that.

My right hand goes to my forehead as my head dips slightly. "It doesn't have to have a religious meaning. It can just refer to any fictional setting. His use of the word 'canon' implies that he considers the rest of the world 'correct' in accordance with how the fictional universe in which the story takes place should be. As such, I believe it is possible that he thinks that we are all fictional characters, but that I'm some sort of Mary Sue author's pet. And that the story can't be good until I'm not in it any more."

"Then what would be canon?"

"I.. do come from a parallel universe." I look around as the others board, Roy returning to the pilot's station. "Maybe he… Maybe the suit makes him aware of that? So… To fix things he'd have to send me back to the universe I came from."

Rob looks around as we rise into the air. "Who's sending what back?"

"Camouflage active." Roy keeps his attention focused on his flying. "Orange Lantern, whenever you're ready."

"Orange Lantern hypothesized that Doctor Schwab is aware that he is not of our universe, and that that is what led to his attack."

I wave my right hand. "Basically just a guess. Transitioning back to Happy Harbour in three, two, one." The view through the front window flickers and is replaced with the Rhode Island coast.

"Oh. You.. going back to your Earth?"

"Not if I can help it. And all he really did was punch me." Ahead of us the hangar doors slide open. "I mean, he's not Klarion or anyt-."

There's a thump as something-. Several somethings land on the Bio-Ship, and-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

-what look like cannons are fired in our general direction from the landing area. No, all directions, they still can't see us so they're using grapeshot. The cannons are manned by… Actual.. pirates. The things that landed on the Bio-Ship areohshit! I instruct the ship to open a hole in the roof as one of the robots finds enough purchase to bring its arm-mounted energy weapon to bear! My orange bolt hits it in the chest, knocking it free and sending it sailing across the hangar, the brilliant golden beam from its arm narrowly missing the hull! A second later Kaldur's water-bearers shoot up and strike the second and third, knocking them off as well. A quick scan of the hangar lake shows a total of twenty six in the water and heading for dry land.

"Avast, Young Justice!" Doctor Schwab is now dressed like a pirate, loose cotton shirt, baggy trousers and tricorn hat over his green union suit. The other twenty six pirates are either working to reload their cannons or trying to aim at us with their muskets. "You see! This is how it's supposed to go! Lunatics in crazy costumes throwing down for no adequately explained reason!"

BOOM! BOOMBOOM!

Roy glances at Kaldur. "Aqualad?"

"Use the ship's cannons. Destroy their artillery."

"Right." The guns deploy and there's a harsh buzzing noise as the beams cut cleanly through the cast iron of the cannons, pirates scrambling to get away in case it sets the powder off.

"Orange Lantern, can you get to your personal lantern?"

"Probably."

"Speedy, use the ship to knock them into the water, then hold back to fire on any further robots they may have in reserve. The rest of us will deal with the pirates while Orange Lantern recharges."

Roy throws the bio-ship into a tight turn and I recreate the hole in the roof before surging out. I see puffs as the pirates fire their muskets but those aren't any threat to my environmental shield.

Doctor Schwab looks quite put out. "Knew I shoulda brought cavemen and astronauts. Now where did the ship g-?"

Pirates go flying as the Bio-Ship ploughs into them. I see Doctor Schwab himself leap clear just before it reaches him and then vanish. Right, they've got this. I transition to my room and yank open the door, thrusting my hands forwards. "Recharge." My lantern appears from subspace and the twin beams of orange light-.

"Got-cha."

I feel a slight pressure on my back as Doctor Schwab presses a new insect thing to my back.

"Let's try something a little different this time."

"Why are you doing-?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

First Year
Reign of Fire Lord Zuko
Imperial Palace
Capital City
Fire Nation

Mid afternoon

I imagine that I cut a rather strange figure here. My clothing -robes of orange and grey- fit the local formal dress code… Well, more or less. Even my bright orange irises don't warrant more than a curious frown from the courtiers and officials my escort and I walk past. I haven't seen anyone else with that particular distinction, but I have seen gold and amber coloured irises so presumably mine don't stand out quite as much as they would in.. other climes. I'm tall, but not shockingly tall. My face on the other hand appears to be giving them a little difficulty. The skin of most of the local nobility isn't much different in tone to mine, but their facial features are far more Asian than my own Caucasian visage. And from what I've seen no other nation on this world shares my combination of features. The people of the Water Tribes have a similar structure but far darker skin. Being the most populous nation, the people of the Earth Kingdom vary in appearance, but those I saw during my brief visit favoured oriental features as well.

Hm. Perhaps they think I'm a colonial? That would be amusing.

"Hey." One of my escorts, a young woman who was also part of the group which took me into custody, frowns thoughtfully at me. "How did you do that?"

I bow slightly as I walk. "Do what, ladyship?"

"Keep moving like that."

Ah. I was wondering if she'd ask. "I've walked from a very young age, ladyship. At this point it's second nature. In fact, my mother told me that I never learned to crawl."

"No, I mean-." She looks astonished for a moment. "Wait, really?"

"So she said, ladyship. I don't remember much about the period myself. But I'm not about to call my mother a liar."

She blinks a couple of times, then shakes her head. "I hit your pressure points. You shouldn't have been able to stand up at all."

"Ah, that." I nod. "Yes, I see how that might have been a surprise."

She looks at me expectantly, then pouts slightly when I don't answer. "Are you a wizard?"

"Oh, no, ladyship."

"Pleeeeease tell me!"

I regard her for a moment, then make a show of looking left and right before returning my attention to her, apparently failing to detect the six other guards in my escort. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Uh-huh."

I reach up to my coat and turn up the edge slightly. Revealing the fine mithril chain mail beneath. She looks at it with fascination for about a second, then sags, looking at me like I spoiled her fun. She wouldn't recognise the metal, but the implication is clear.

I shrug apologetically. "These are dangerous times, ladyship. I spend a lot of time travelling. I'm afraid that you didn't hit me anything like hard enough to paralyse me through my.. robes, though I will have a nasty bruise later."

"That's boring. I thought you did it with monk-wizard magic."

Another bow. "I apologise, ladyship."

"You're probably going to tell me you didn't get into Azula's prison with magic, either." She holds the pout, but doesn't hide the eagerness in her eyes for an answer.

The guards at the front of my escort step aside as we reach an ornate door, and the leader of the group steps forward and knocks quietly on the door. A moment later it opens a crack and he has a whispered discussion with the person on the far side. "I wasn't planning on telling you that, ladyship."

She nods, her smile restored. Then she hesitates, pointing at me with her right forefinger. "Heey. That isn't the same as saying 'no'."

The doors ahead of us are opened and one of the guards behind me gives me a shove to get me moving. "You're right, ladyship. It isn't. Excuse me."

The room which I'm being led into appears to be an office of some sort. From what I've gathered of local politics, Fire Lord Zuko took part in overthrowing his father and sister and then rather had to hit the ground running after his uncle -his closest advisor and confidant- moved to the Earth Kingdom capital. At this point things have calmed down somewhat, but from the look of… Huh. His bodyguard appear to be some kind of warrior-geisha. Curious.

The Fire Lord himself is a serious, athletic looking youth. The stress of office doesn't appear to have quite gotten to him yet, other than providing a small measure of momentary frustration. This is after all a time of peace and disarmament, the other nations of the world more than content to give him the time and space to get things under control. His robes are not quite so ostentatious as those I've seen in some of the portraits but I have no doubt that they cost more than most peasants would earn in a year. His attention remains fixed on the scroll before him as I'm led into the centre of the space in the centre of the room. A basic intimidation technique, used to reinforce the idea in the petitioner's mind that they are unimportant, insignificant and generally unworthy of the time of the person they have been led before.

I clasp my hands at my chest and perform the medium bow which my knowledge of local courtly manners suggests is correct for a sage before the Fire Lord. And then I wait, in silence, for him to deign to notice me.

I think that one of the bodyguards has noticed that I'm not behaving quite right. There's a little extra tension in her frame, a slight lean forwards suggesting that she's prepared to interpose herself at a moment's notice should I behave even slightly out of order. From the depths of my memory I drag up Mister Kent's distant lessons on how to appear harmless and do my best to put them into practice, using the loose shape of my robes to hide my stature, relaxing every muscle and generally doing my best to appear harmless. Gosh, that takes me back.

There's a sound of parchment rubbing against parchment as the Fire Lord rolls his scroll and binds it together, finally deciding to notice me.

"Since my sister entered confinement eleven people have tried to break into her prison. Nine were traitors seeking to release her. Two were people she's hurt who wanted to take revenge. All eleven are now dead." None of that was news to me, though the fact that he started with it is a little interesting. "Explain why you were there."

I make a point of not fully raising my head. "I sought to help her, majesty."

"Help." The muscles of his jaw tighten slightly. "My sister is being helped by the best doctors in the Fire Nation. What's so special about you?"

"The spirit I serve bade me visit her, majesty."

That makes him hesitate slightly. "Azula doesn't care about the spirits. I don't think she's prayed once in her whole life."

"But she has lived in accordance with the ideals of the spirit I serve, majesty. And.. that has.. not served her well. As such, her current state is the cause of some distress to my mistress. I was.. instructed.. to come here and render what assistance I could."

He remains still for a moment, considering my answer. The local religion appears to be animist, though the spirits who dwell on this world seldom directly intervene in people's lives. For the last century the Fire Sages have been reduced in status from enlightened spiritualists to symbolic court officials. But Fire Lord Zuko counts the Avatar as one of his close friends. My claim most likely carries a little more weight with him. "What spirit?"

"The Spirit of Avarice, majesty."

His eyes narrow, trying to work out whether or not I'm mocking him. "Avarice."

"She strove ruthlessly to realise her desires, subordinating all distractions in pursuit of the goal of becoming… Fire Lord. And yet… In the end-."

"She went crazy and lost everything."

"In essence, majesty. Though.. I.. wasn't able to spend enough time with her to.. fully diagnose-."

"Prove it."

"Prove..? "

"Prove that a spirit sent you. I've had a lot of charlatans and conmen try and convince me that they can help Azula. If you were really sent by a spirit, then I'll consider letting you try. Otherwise you can join them in the dungeons."

"Ah." I nod. What exactly would he consider adequate..? Hm, it's a little old, but… I manifest the Ophidian's Eyes and look directly at him for a moment. I'll credit him with having excellent self control. He barely recoils at all, though his expression shifts a little from irritated towards blankness. "Is that adequate, majesty?" He gives me a curt nod and I squeeze my eyes closed and give my head a small shake. Stage dressing as I remove the Eyes.

"Avarice, huh." He leans forwards slightly, elbows resting on his desk. "Let me guess: there's some sort of rare tea that she needs, or some oil extracted from a fruit whose location is only known to a handful of merchants..?"

"In all honesty, majesty, I don't think that putting hot liquids in her hands is really a good idea. There might well be some tea or some oil that would temporarily calm her, but I doubt that it would assist her in the long term."

"What sort of payment do you expect?"

I shrug and shake my head. "Bed and board, majesty. I've never been much of a tea drinker."

He doesn't quite squint. "And you don't.. want anything… For yourself."

"A healthy Fire Princess is far more valuable than trivial amounts of precious metal, majesty. Members of my order are taught to understand and achieve oneness with our desires. I want to help. All other concerns are…" I smile, waving my right hand dismissively. "Distractions."

He nods. "Very well. I will instruct her physicians that you should be granted access, under observation."

I bow again. "Thank you, majesty."

"Do you honestly think you can help her?"

"I am obliged to try, majesty." I rather doubt this civilisation -for all its surprising technological prowess- has quite discovered cognitive behavioural therapy yet. "But… If I may ask? I have.. some awareness, of the way your father raised her. Any more information you can give me would be extremely helpful."