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

[Mr Zoat]

First Year
Reign of Fire Lord Zuko
Outskirts of the Capital City
Imperial Sanatorium

Morning, the following day

"Do you actually have any formal qualifications?"

Though the tone of Princess Azula's chief physician is condescending, it only takes me a fraction of a second to assure myself that he is guided by his concern… Not exactly for his patient, but certainly for the good conduct of his offices. He thinks that I may be a fraudster, but am more likely just a well-intentioned waste of time and the fact that he has been ordered to put up with me offends his sense of order.

After her defeat, Princess Azula was held in a.. specialist prison, close to the capital. Given the risks of a potential military coup using her as a figurehead, the decision was taken to move her to somewhere a little more remote. It is true that imprisonment seldom has a healthy effect on the minds of those who undergo it, but I'm sure that Princess Azula simply regards this as her brother trying to get her out of the way. Out of sight. Out of mind.

We're walking through the corridors now to the place where I will be granted my audience. As a highly skilled fire bender -a curious descriptor which apparently indicates that she possesses an innate ability to manipulate both fire and electricity- keeping her somewhere she doesn't want to stay is no easy matter. The rooms she is kept in are lined with high pressure hoses and whenever she is taken out of them she is chained hand and foot, particular physical actions apparently being required to activate her abilities.

"I am the spiritual leader of my order, my learned friend." Still true, though I am no longer the only member to have attained enlightenment. "Though it is true that my medical knowledge is fairly basic-" Though quite possibly more advanced than his. The people here are essentially Human after all. "-I have decades of experience in counselling people with.. similar backgrounds to the Princess."

A slight narrowing of the eyes. "Hmm." Ah, I just confirmed myself as someone who scrounges off aristocrats. If only he knew. From the brief glimpse I got yesterday it was clear to me that Princess Azula is in a bad way, but not more so than those poor souls who were once held in the Blue Cells on Maltus. I am an old hand at undoing the harm that can be caused by orange light exposure, literal or metaphorical. Now, even Larfleeze is.. nearly a fully functioning member of society.

We approach a door, and the guards standing by it open it at a nod from the doctor. Outside is a.. courtyard, a flame-blackened stone area in the centre surrounded by mostly recovered grass and edged by a flowering border. In the stone area, one heavy stone bench has metal rings set into it, designed to have manacles attached to them. Looking up, I see several guards dressed in blue Inuit-themed clothing… Ah, those would be water benders. A.. necessary precaution, I suppose.

"Sit down there-" The doctor indicates a seat on the opposite side of the stone area. "-and don't approach her. She'll be brought out in a few moments. The Fire Lord has sent you here, and I suppose I should tolerate one priest. But if I think for a moment your presence impedes her recovery-."

"Please, my learned friend. Such hostility is not necessary. If I am impeding her recovery, I will leave myself with no prompting required. My sole desire -and that of the spirit I serve- is to help her."

A combination of my own obsequiousness and the fact that he actually can't get rid of someone who has the authorisation of the Fire Lord to be here appears to placate him. "Very well." He turns, and heads back towards the door.

Taking a moment to arrange my robes, I sit myself on the bench indicated. Now, whereabouts..? Ah, of course. The chaotic tangle of orange that is Princess Azula's soul stands out clearly from her surroundings. Despite her angry and violent outbursts there actually isn't a lot of red, not inside. Plenty on the surface, a common enough response from people who believe that the world should be one way and are forcibly confronted with the fact that it is actually another. The buzzing mess appears to be in accordance with some of the descriptions of their upbringing Fire Lord Zuko gave me yesterday, as well as the more recent information the young lady Ty Lee was able to provide. Fortunately, there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with her actual brain. I'm actually feeling a little optimistic.

The door on the far side of the courtyard opens and Princess Azula is pushed through first. The guards behind her have some sort of staff attached to the chains around her torso and use them to push her along while staying out of arms' reach. Or what arms reach would be if her arms weren't bound, folded across her chest and chained together. The Princess herself… A few bruises, and I think they're feeding her a weak herbal sedative. Compared to the portrait I saw yesterday her hair is much shorter, most likely shorn due to the impracticality of keeping it in good condition due to her violent outbursts. Her eyes go to me first, then disregard me, flicking from place to place as she tries to spot potential attackers or escape routes.

Cautiously, the guards with the staves manoeuvre her in front of the bench opposite me. She doesn't bother giving more than token resistance. Enough to remind them that she is a threat, but not enough to provoke a strong response. They push a little and she sits, not deigning to look at them as two other guards scurry in and one by one hurriedly transfer her bindings to the bench and then detach the staves. Their task complete, they pull back to the far wall to wait.

Without rising, I bow, my hands clasped to my chest. "Highness. It is an honour to meet you."

Her body is turned slightly to her left, indicating as best she can that I am unworthy of being in her presence. She regards me from the corner of her eyes, taking in my robes and trying to work out who or what I am. After a moment she returns her gaze to directly in front of her. "Are you supposed to be an air bender?"

"No, highness. I am a.. sage, one familiar with the ways of the spirits."

"I am not possessed." She snarls, but she doesn't look at me.

"I know, highness. But I do have some small insight into Human behaviour which I believe may.. help you."

She snorts. "Haven't you heard? I'm a monster."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a moment, highness."

Immediately her head snaps in my direction. "You should."

"No, highness. Though -please don't misunderstand- I'm sure that you believe it. And I'm sure that if you could right now you would gladly kill both me and everyone else here." A small sneering smile appears on her lips. "You're affirming your identity as a monster because it's the only freedom left to you."

She rolls her eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The people who surround you every day these days want you to behave in the ways they consider conducive to good order. By opposing that in a way you consider consistent with your nature, you are able to protect your ego. The fact is, monsters aren't capable of learning the degree of self control you.. were famous for."

"My mother disagreed with you."

"I think your physician does as well. But that doesn't mean they're right."

"Ty Lee and Mai think I'm a monster."

"That's three people you've named whose opinions matter to you. A monster wouldn't care like that."

"So tell me about this total fantasy non-monster version of me who lives in your head."

I smile. "Alright then. At a young age, she showed great talent at fire bending. As a result, her father showed her particular favour and as a dutiful daughter she strove to keep him happy. She focused on her studies, trying with all her might to make him proud of her. Because… Wasn't that what she was supposed to do? And he in turn showered her with… Not affection, exactly. But he demonstrated pride as she got stronger, and made a particular point of encouraging certain behaviours which he believed useful. Viciousness, so that she'd push away all confidants but him. Cruelty, so that none would dare cross her. Aggression and assertiveness and a sort of domineering charisma. Useful traits for a Fire Nation noble. Her mother turned from her in horror, but that was fine. After all, she had her father."

"And when her brother failed to capture the Avatar so hard that an entire fleet was destroyed, she left the Fire Nation and took over the mission from him. Though she didn't quite manage to kill him, she did capture the Earth Kingdom's capital through stealth and guile and returned home in triumph. And when her brother betrayed her country, that was fine. She didn't think much of him anyway. Now her father would only have her!"

"And her friends turned from her, but that was alright, because she was doing what her father wanted. And they were traitors and they had to be dealt with as such. And then she came back to the palace to be told that she was to be made Fire Lord! The pay off had finally arrived." I smile. "All that pain, all that suffering, all that hard work, and here was the reward." My face falls. "An empty title as he promoted himself to King of the World, showing not the slightest regard for all of her efforts."

Her eyes are locked forwards, unseeing. She's shaking slightly. "You built your identity, your concept of the good, around a man who cared for you not at all. You pushed away everyone -just like you were supposed to- and you were left with nothing. And fixing that is what I am here to help you with."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1001, Celestial Era.

"AhH!"

I sit cross-legged on one of the few illuminated points on the moon's surface, watching with interest as the shadows flow around me like oil, coalescing and deepening at a single point just in front of me. There's a shift in local magic fields as the imprisonment spell finally collapses, and then:

"After a thousand years, I'm free!"

Nightmare Moon rears up on her hind legs and kicks with her front ones as her excitement at having a body again causes her to forget decorum. The pelt of Wilson's Night Goddess is deep black, coloured only by a purple blob on each of her haunches which in turn bears an image of a crescent moon.

Ohmygoodness.

"Now, 'tis time to conquer Equestria!"

She lands, lunar dust billowing away from her hooves as she does so. Her pupils are slits, like the eyes of a cat. She's clad in barding of midnight blue. The incisors in her upper jaw are extended beyond what any herbivore should need, and the rest of her teeth are surprisingly serrated as well. From her forehead extends a black, spiralled horn and from her sides extend two black-feathered wings, and the magic rune I'm holding in her direction shows that she possesses massive innate magic reserves. She's about one metre fifty tall at the withers.

Andshe'ssocute!

Okay, okay, I'm entirely too old to react like this to a Pony. I clear my throat. "If I might-" Her head turns towards me, lowering as if preparing to charge and gore me. Her wings open slightly, making her look bigger and preparing to thrust her forwards through this moon's surprisingly dense atmosphere. Her eyes narrow as she gets her first clear look at the intruder. "-have your attention for a moment?"

Her eyes narrow. "What manner of creature are you?"

"Does my voice not sound familiar? I have been visiting your prison on a fairly regular basis."

Her head rises a very small amount, tilting slightly to the side. "Yes. Your voice… We heard it…" Her head goes fully erect as she stares up at the stars. "A thousand years? You have visited us for a full millennium?"

"Not quite, highness. I was not here for the very beginning. Though after I first found you, I did make a point of being here whenever the spell's grip waned-."

Her attention returns to me. "So that you could commune with us." She nods, cautiously. "We remember your words, your attempts at counsel. E'en experienced in a dream as we did, we dread to think what a thousand years would have done to our mind without the distraction your words provided. You have our thanks, Ape."

NightmareMoonjustcalledmeanApe! EEEEEEEEeeeeee!

"Now we must be off. 'Tis the night of the Summer Sun celebration, and we are long overdue for a rematch with our-" She bares her teeth as she looks 'up' at the super Earth in the sky above us. "-sister."

"Might I..? Have a moment of your time before that?"

She rolls her eyes and lightly shakes her head, her translucent, star-filled mane falling slightly behind with each motion of her head. "We believe that we remember the thrust of your argument, having had nought else to contemplate. You wish us to resolve our conflict with our sister through means other than our battle magics."

"It would be nice."

She sneers. "Nice. Niceness has little influence on our mood. She trapped me here for a millennium and now she will fall beneath my hooves! You have made your view known to us before."

"Yes, but spiritual communion is not the most precise way of communicating sophisticated arguments. Would you do me the courtesy of hearing me once more?"

Her eyes go back to the planet for a moment, focusing on the dawn line. "Very well. But do not expect us to be much moved."

"As I understand it, the root of your conflict with Princess Celestia is that while your domain over the night mirrors hers over the day, the fact that your subjects are diurnal means that in practice her authority is greater."

"'Tis a little more than that. But… Yes, therein lies the root."

"Couldn't you.. share? Get up a little earlier in the evening-."

She rolls her eyes. "What a remarkable solution! In all my eight thousand years of life, not once had I considered-" Her ears lie flat against her head as she leans forward, scowling at me. "-getting up earlier." Fair enough. She shakes her head again, returning to a normal stance. "No, Ponies will choose 'day' for as long as it remains an option for them. The only way for them to select me over her is if she is no longer an option."

"And… Why does that matter?"

She blinks in confusion. "We are a princess of Equestria. 'Tis our due."

"But I'm thinking… Ponies are diurnal. You know that, they know that. Why not just leave?"

"We have our pride."

"But it's such a small place! I can feel your power, unconfined by binding spells. Equestia barely covers a small part of one of your planet's continents. Is that really the limit of your ambition?"

"Limit? Equestria is vast and prosperous. Of all of the nations we have encountered, whose sleeping minds we have touched-." I lower my head, shaking it. "What mean you by this effrontery?!"

I walk forwards, coming to a halt about a metre from her. The point of her horn is just about level with the top of my head. I hold out my right hand, palm upwards. "Let me show you."

"If this is some manner of trickery, be it known that we are notoriously vengeful and ill-tempered." She raises her left forehoof and puts it on my hand.

"Understood." I extend my aura over her and warp jump us about halfway between the planet and the moon, space bending to accommodate our travel. "Looks pretty big, doesn't it?" Another warp. Now, we're about one astronomical unit away from Wilson and its star. There aren't any other celestial bodies close by, this system's bizarre arrangement totally hostile to other planets. "A little smaller now, but still noticeable." Keeping her hoof on my hand she turns to stare back at her world. We warp again, this time halfway to the next system. One boring old main sequence star and two super Jupiter gas giants. Nightmare Moon looks around in concern as I pull away and spread my arms wide. "Night all around us, Nightmare Moon. Where lies Equestria?"

Her horn glows for a moment, then she gestures with her right forehoof. "That way. But we take your point. In the grand scheme of the universe, it is not so big."

I nod, then warp us again. One astronomical unit from her home world's nearest neighbour. She peers at it in puzzlement. "'Tis a.. sun, but it does not belong to our sister." A moment later she gets it. "You mean to tell us that every star is like unto ours, bearing worlds like our own?"

"Not exactly like yours. Less than one in every hundred are inhabited."

"You believe that we should turn our attention to one of these worlds in place of our own?" She tosses her head. "Why should those alien creatures care more for us than our own kind?" I smile, and warp us again. Beneath us a Karnan freighter ploughs through the void. Nightmare Moon's eyes widen in surprise. "Some manner of artificial vessel?"

I nod. "Trading. Travelling. Exploring. Far from any sun. Only the light you bring with you grants any meaningful illumination. Princess, day is a tiny, weak thing. A star's light diffusing through an atmosphere for half the world's cycle. You could do so much more than playing second fiddle to your sister or becoming a conquering, kinslaying warlord." I hold out my right hand again, manifesting a new orange power ring upon my palm. "Join me. Become their protector and in doing so earn their reverence. Let me give you eternal night."

She studies me, carefully weighing my words. "Tell us… More."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1001, Celestial Era.

"Thank you, my little Pony. I will be out to join in the festivities in a moment."

Oh, what would Lantern Onik have thought to see his High Priest staring at Celestia's mane like this? The gently waving pastel colours are so hypnotic, waving lightly in a nonexistent breeze. The Princess Regent herself is politely shooing Ponyville's mayor out of her dressing room. Guards… Appear to have been similarly dismissed to join in the party. Outside, her apprentice appears to have calmed down somewhat from earlier and is chatting with the local school teacher.

She can't have failed to feel the spell collapse. Heck, the mare's head shape on the moon disappearing should have been enough of a warning. Yet, I can't feel any prepared spells. I think that I managed to talk Nightmare Moon down from her original plan of beating her sister senseless so that she could leave on a high note, but a little caution wouldn't be amiss on Celestia's end. Maybe Celestia has simply gotten too used to not having to fight people in her own weight class? Goodness knows I've had a few complacency episodes like that myself over the centuries.

She turns to look out of the window for a moment, gazing up at the moon. "Luna, where are you? This was the night-."

Darkness roils behind her as Nightmare Moon manifests through the shadows on the far side of the room. "Of our return." She takes a few confident steps forwards then stops. "Did you miss us, dear sister?"

Celestia's head dips slightly, eyes narrowing as golden light flows around her horn. "You are no sister of mine."

"Ugh." Nightmare Moon rolls her eyes as the two of them begin circling each other. "One thousand years and that is how you greet us? How are you? Keeping to your diet, I see? Do I have any new nephews or nie-?"

"Stop it. Stop pretending to be her."

"Pretending to be whom?"

"Luna."

Nightmare Moon stops. She blinks, genuinely perplexed. She flicks out her left wing for a moment, her eyes flicking back to check that it's still there. "You think us perhaps to be the other Alicorn of the Night?"

"I don't know how you possessed my sister, Nightmare Moon, but you-."

Nightmare Moon frowns. "Who?"

"You!"

"Oh, that." She nods. "We were Nightmare Moon for perhaps five minutes after having been Luna for eight thousand years. Excuse us for not remembering an off-the-cuff taunt we used a thousand years ago."

"Even at her most angry, Luna would never have raised her hooves against me as you did. She would never have imperilled Equestia as you did."

"And we knew that. Submissive, compliant, ignored and uncared for."

"She was never-!"

"That was why we transformed ourself into somepony who could. Somepony without all of those crippling weaknesses and doubts, drummed into her by your callous disregard."

"You're lying. Such magics are extremely dangerous. Luna would know-."

"Oh, pish. It involved less dark magic than we have both used before."

"No. I refuse to accept that Luna hated herself enough to turn herself into you."

"You weren't there when I performed the transformation and my records were designed to destroy themselves if you attempted to read them." She pulls her head back slightly. "Have you really been telling yourself for all these years that we possessed ourself? How absurd. Anyway." Her horn glows a surprisingly pale blue for a moment and a scroll appears in the air next to her before floating over to her sister. "We believe you will find it in order."

Not quite taking her eyes off her sister, the scroll is enveloped in Celestia's golden aura and cautiously unrolled. Her eyes flick to it, then back to her sister before widening and returning to the scroll. "You're abdicating?"

"You have clearly governed the country perfectly well in our absence. You have even managed the day and night cycle for yourself. Equestria neither wants us nor needs us. We refuse to play second fiddle, especially for a piece where only one fiddle is required. We are leaving to find a people who will appreciate us."

"But…" Celestia blinks in confusion. "Your duty…"

"Fie on 'duty'. They did not appreciate us when we lived here and we doubt that you erasing us from history has made them think of us any more fondly."

"That's not entirely true, Princess." I walk out of the shadows she created. Middle finger, middle finger, middle toe, middle toe. Don't know how M'gann managed things like this. Being a Pony is much harder than it looks. "She did create a festival where foals make offerings of sweets of various kinds to icons of you." Celestia takes in my grey coat, wings and horn. The transformation effect gave me an orange tail, mane and an orange sigil 'cutie mark', which I suppose is appropriate. My ring sits at the base of my horn. "In the understanding that if you don't like the offering, you will return from the moon and eat them."

"Who are you?"

"I am Illustres. A pleasure to meet you."

"And really? Eating foals? Really?"

Princess Celestia's eyes dip momentarily. "That festival was not my creation."

"It hardly matters." She walks over to the window and looks out at the festivities outside. "We will visit our quarters in the Castle to pick up some of our possessions and then depart."

Celestia looks at the disinterested Nightmare Moon and then back at me. "And what role have you played in.. my sister's change in behaviour?"

"He counselled me to reconcile with you. His words kept me from being driven mad by the isolation."

Celestia blinks, then focuses on Nightmare Moon. "You should not have experienced the passage of time-."

"The spell waxed and waned with the lunar cycle. She was meaningfully conscious for about three days a month."

"One century of isolation, since you're so concerned."

Celestia looks surprised for an instant, then rallies. "If you had not tried to kill me-!"

"No. No. It was a thousand years ago and we have decided that we do not care. We are done with Equestria, and wish you all joy of it." Nightmare Moon looks around, frowning to herself. "And we actually mean that. How odd." Her attention shifts to me. "Illustres, we will see you anon."

Shadows rise from the ground around her-

"Wait! I-!"

-then she's gone.

Celestia sits down heavily, staring at the patch of shadows her sister vanished into. "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen."

"Better than a fight, wasn't it?" I take a few finger-toe steps forwards before sitting myself. "I didn't think having two demigoddesses fighting it out would be all that healthy for anyone. And I didn't think that sending her back to the moon again would be much better. My experience with ancient evils is that it's best to either fix them or destroy them outright, and that the first is generally preferable."

"It was." She looks me over again. "How were you able to reach her when I was not?"

"My 'special talent' is helping people realise their desires. She just needed the problem… Rephrased a little. She wanted to be appreciated-"

"She-" Her head dips. "-was."

"-and she thought that you were an obstacle to that. When I showed her that she could simply go somewhere where they'd never heard of you, she was quite persuadable."

I get a minor scowl. "And what do you get from this arrangement?"

"A powerful and highly motivated magic user. I enjoy helping people become all that they can be, and if they do so doing something I want them to do, so much the better. And I get that annoying buzz of frustrated desire gone from my head. Ah, horn."

"I had… Hoped…"

"What?"

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter now." She gets up and walks towards the door. Just as she reaches it, she stops and looks back towards me. Gosh, Pony necks are flexible. "Please..? Ask her to visit me. I don't understand exactly what happened to her, but her absence these last thousand years has been like a hole in my heart."

I nod, standing myself. "Of course, Princess. She might not be available for a while, though."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
13:53 GMT +5:30

Doctor Blight doesn't look back as she leads the way through maturation chamber seven, MAL's mobile screen hovering just behind her. As she reaches the door at the far end, the armature it travels on bends, turning him back to face me. "You better be right about this, Lantern."

I wave him off with my right hand. "I'm not convinced of the utility of a direct confrontation-."

Doctor Blight stops, her right hand outstretched to the release button. Like a lot of the things she builds, this facility is a strange mixture of super advanced and anachronistic. A door which requires a button to open it? No handle, but no motion sensor either?

"It's not all about utility, Lantern-sweetie. I've waited years for this and there's no way I'm getting cheated out of it now."

I shrug. "If that's really what you want."

For a moment her left hand moves upwards, under the fringe overhanging the left side of her face. Then she pulls it away, clenching her fist. "You better believe it, baby cakes. The look on their faces when they saw what we did to those Tigers… I am so ready for this."

MAL glances off to the side of his screen. "Much as I hate to bring down the mood, security has reported a perimeter breach."

Doctor Blight presses the button and the door retracts. A lot of the doors around here are blast doors. One too many encounters with high pressure water and bizarrely powerful gusts of wind I suppose, and they do serve to provide additional security around the more fragile parts of the facility. "Stop bellyaching, MAL darling." She steps through into the corridor leading to the dissection chambers. "This time, no one will-!"

"ABP!"

"Heh." Doctor Blight turns fully around to face me. "Are you still worried about that list?"

"I haven't properly been able to characterise local magic systems. It doesn't seem prudent-."

"Live a little." She turns away from me and starts walking again. "No one can stop me now. Everything is going according to plan. Those Planeteer punks are helpless-" MAL and I both wince. "-before the power of science!"

I lean towards his screen as she pulls away slightly. "Did you show her the list?"

"They cannot comprehend my brilliance!"

"You're the one who wanted to keep a low profile. I didn't think convincing her that killing her sister was an essential step was a particularly good idea."

"Everything is going perfectly!"

"Fair enough. Edited version?"

"I tried. But I'm not sure she was actually listening."

"Are you two coming?!"

MAL sighs silently, then accelerates Aperture Sphere style along his railing after her. I knew that recruiting a malign hypercognitive wouldn't be an easy thing to do. Or rather, it would be easy, just not easy to do on terms I could accept. I'm not going to give her a ring just to see her transmute the entire atmosphere into hydrochloric acid. This was the compromise we eventually struck. I assist her in getting a clear, unambiguous win doing something she actually wants to do, she agrees to adapt her methodology. On Maltus, where the natural environment has long since been destroyed and replaced, she wouldn't be able to do much harm. Even Mosaic is comprised mostly of artificial habitats. Once she gets out in the field… I need to know that she's not going to do anything antisocially crazy. And showing her that she can win without doing that is the best way to start.

I stride after my colleagues, pulling my phone out of my pocket and pressing the speed dial button for Mister Singh -our Ministry of Health attaché- as I do so. Probably a good idea if he's on hand during the confrontation. I really don't understand how Doctor Blight's got as far as she has without developing a relationship with some sort of business manager. Mostly, once a product she's developed is ready for release she just signs the licence over -usually to Mister Plunder- and then loses interest. She insists that she's not in it for the money and it's not like she's exactly short on resources…

"Chandeep here."

"Would you mind coming to the dissection room? We're about to have a showdown. "

"A.. showdown? With whom?"

"A group of environmental activists."

"Wouldn't calling the police be a more sensible idea?"

I roll my eyes. "You have met Doctor Blight, yes?"

He sighs. "In that case, I will be with you in a few minutes."

"Thanks." I hang up and jog after her. Amazing woman, really. Her actual doctorate is in chemical engineering but she's turned her hands at various times to just about every field of scientific and engineering endeavour with remarkable results. Even magic upon occasion. It's just a shame that she never- I press the button to open the door to what I wanted to call the surgical suite. -found a way to channel that to serve her own rational self interests.

"…what you have been doing here!"

Kwame points aggressively up at Doctor Blight from amongst the cut up corpses of various endangered animals, Gi at his side. Linka's holding onto a biological waste bin, stepping away from Wheeler, who appears to have vomited and missed. Ma-Ti is standing a little way behind the others. He's squinting at a dead Tiger, a look of puzzlement on his face. Not really a surprise that the team empath would realise that something was up. A second later his head jerks around to look at me. Hmm, some sort of passive detection? Wouldn't mind a look at their rings later, see if there's anything we can adapt-.

"Biological research. I've been studying how to automate surgical techniques-."

Gi's scowl deepens. "On defenceless animals?!"

"These?" She looks around at the remains. Not exactly best laboratory practice, but she wanted to make a point. "I cloned these." Stares. "My interest is in Human cloning, but I had to start somewhere."

Ma-Ti frowns. "I don't think this was ever alive." Don't think anyone's listening. A moment later he realises that as well. I give him a conciliatory shrug.

"This is sick." Wheeler wipes his mouth before raising his ring. "And I'm gunna make the right side of your face match the left. Fire!"

MAL nods. "Fire suppression-" A bolt of flame blasts from Wheeler's ring and is met by a shot from the lab's freeze ray. "-active."

"Nice try, hot stuff. But the fact is-" Doctor Blight tosses her hair back. "-you're too late." They stare at the smooth skin which now covers the left side of her face. "Cloned skin tissue and the finest in automatic surgery." She pulls the glove off her left hand and reaches up to touch her face. "In a few months I'll be able to supply every hospital in the country with transplant organs. Every surgical suite with machines that can handle just about any routine surgery."

"We saw your security guards! Their skulls were empty!"

Doctor Blight smiles. "Cloned body parts and a computer plugged into their spines. There was never anything in them, sweetie."

Kwame looks like the rug's been pulled out from underneath him. But for the team, he tries to rally. "Cloning Humans is against the United Nations Declaration-."

"Which isn't binding." Mister Singh walks in through a side door. "And nothing that has happened here violates Indian law. Not by Doctor Blight, anyway. You -on the other hand- are committing criminal trespass. And interfering with our attempts to resurrect endangered species through cloning."

"Heart."

Oh no you don't. "Avarice."

Two of Doctor Blight's securizombies enter through the rear of the room, truncheons ready. Mister Singh nods. "I suggest that you cooperate with Doctor Blight's security personnel until the police arrive to arrest you formally."

And at that point the Planeteers realise that they've been conned. I watch as even Wheeler deflates slightly, wind knocked out of his sails. In fairness to them, the idea that Doctor Blight might be doing something which helped the world does seem a little absurd. At least, it does until you realise that after a string of defeats what she wanted most… Was to see the look on their faces when this happens.

I give it a moment, but it doesn't look like they think Captain Planet is the way to handle the situation. Which is a relief, because I'm not sure-. There's a thump from behind me and I turn away from them as Doctor Blight stumbles back against the wall. "You alright?"

"Better than-" She pants. "-alright. After all these years…" She blinks heavily, and shudders as she takes a deep breath. "I think I'm ready for my ring now, Orange darling."

 

[Mr Zoat]

The Pit
Chorh-Gom Prison

The guards here are impressively alert. As Commander Vimes was wont to comment, put together enough soldiers for a game of poker and unless there's an officer right there forget about them staying alert. These Rhinos on the other hand are by all appearances absolute professionals. Those outside are keeping a close watch on all approaches.

Tai Lung.

Those inside tend their equipment and man their stations as diligently as any I've seen. The distance between the Prison and the nearest settlement probably helps, as does the lack of amenities within the Prison itself, and I have caught the occasional muttered conversation. Simple word games, and those manning the ballistae down here in The Pit have scratched noughts and crosses boards into the brickwork.

What do you want?

But, all in all, a highly effective installation. Which did nothing at all to block my ingress via the spirit world. A little surprising, that. They clearly have spiritual adepts of the mystic martial artist sort, even if they don't have what I would regard as a conventional wizard. There were a couple of Daoist charms around the entrance, but they appeared to be purely decorative.

For what end do you strive?

Atop a pillar of rock there stands a Snow Leopard. Around his torso are locked metal plates like a Turtle's shell, holding in place the pins which keep him almost totally paralysed. Strapped to his wrists are heavy manacles, and from those manacles extend chains which descend through a series of iron rings into the abyss surrounding him. Attached to the ends of those chains are great lumps of rock, designed to pull him to the ground. In the eighteen or so years he has been here, the sum total of movements he has been able to make are twitching his tail, opening and closing his eyes and swallowing. Twice a day they feed him with a spoon on the end of a stick and once a day they clean away his excrement.

Silence, spirit.

Here in the spirit world I manifest as a great orange snake. The space around us is a dusty yellow/green, populated by floating rocks and what appear to be temple ruins. The floating island which Tai Lung stands on has the exact same dimensions as the platform upon which his body is imprisoned. No getting entirely away from the place. I half expected to find him in meditative repose. He isn't. He's practicing Leopard Style kata at incredible speed, mind and soul completely focused.

You called me, mortal.

I flow in a wide circle around his island, nearly forming a full circle. In a setting where an action like this might more readily be expected from a Chinese-style Dragon, I manage yet again to subvert genre expectations with my Snake body.

I did no such thing.

You burn with desire. Your soul resonates with the orange light.

I did no such thing.

How can you have come as far as you have, yet remain so ignorant?

I tilt my head slightly to the side as he performs a series of rapid strikes in my direction.

You can only achieve true spiritual balance by confronting and understanding yourself. Your discipline and skill are already unparalleled. These activities you perform with such vigour are a waste of your time.

He leaps across his island then lands, claws digging into the rock to arrest his movement and allow him to swiftly rebound. If you have something to say, spirit, then say it.

A phantasmal orange image appears on his platform. Himself, lunging towards the end of a temple. Before him stand a wizened Tortoise and a Red Panda. Tai Lung's eyes don't shift from his Kata as his younger self batters aside the second before being brought down by the first.

A misstep I will correct when the time is right.

Purely by chance, his motions take him through the shrine at the phantasmal Temple's end, striking the strange dragon-head decoration in the ceiling with a snap kick.

I am more interested in the why.

It was necessary for me to progress.

Orange light shifts, and the Tortoise shakes his head solemnly. The image of Tai Lung looks shocked, stunned at the refusal while the surprised looking Red Panda bows his head.

Were there no alternatives at all?

I am well versed in all forms of Kung Fu practised in China. I could continue to practise my less-favoured styles to master them more thoroughly. I could travel beyond China's borders and study other forms. But I am a practitioner of Leopard style. I attack, relentlessly and furiously. The scroll holds the next logical step in my development as a Kung Fu Master, so that is my objective.

Images flicker around the edges of his island, showing what little I could gather of his assaults on the people of the misleadingly named Valley of Peace. Mostly property damage, nothing worse than a few broken bones.

Were they impeding your progress as well?

No. Those assaults were the product of my anger. I was less.. focused then than I am now.

In my experience, such rage is usually the product of defied assumption.

A series of spinning kicks.

Is that unreasonable? I was raised to be a warrior, then at the last moment they denied me the tool I needed to fulfil that destiny.

They?

I turn my head to look at the previous image.

It seems to me that only the Tortoise is refusing you.

Shifu supported his decision. It amounted to the same thing.

A new image forms. A Red Panda and a much younger Tai Lung, moving slowly in the most basic forms of the martial arts they practised.

Another image, a little further on. The child Tai Lung vigorously attacks a training device, then breaks away and looks to the Red Panda for approval. A nod, and he approaches his teacher, rubbing his head against the older man.

Sweet.

That closeness was why the betrayal hurt so much.

He is why you became a martial artist?

He is.

Sooo... Indirectly, he's the reason why you want the scroll?

Tai Lung stops dead as I slither through the air around his island.

Just thinking out loud, you understand. But it occurs to me that you weren't just doing that as some sort of exercise in zen. 'I exist, therefore I strike'.

Ghost images of a hundred training sessions fill the air.

You did it because he taught you.

Another of Shifu patting the young Tai Lung on the head at the end of a spar.

Clearly, this relationship means a lot to you.

His eyes glow.

Clearly it meant nothing to him!

I pull away, looking at him with curiosity as he tries to regain his control.

Curious… That you should say that. Clearly it means something to you. Otherwise, why the outburst?

Begone!

I extend my head forwards, imposing on his personal space.

If the relationship didn't matter to you, you wouldn't have any reason to steal the scroll.

I will do this as revenge for eighteen years' imprisonment.

So you won't take the scroll? If you only studied martial arts for him, why not spite him by becoming a baker?

I flip over onto my back in the air.

Poor confused little Leopard, trying to get his father's approval by beating his father up and stealing from him.

Raaaagh!

He charges and I recorporeate, appearing at the bottom of the Pit. I'll give him a few hours to think about things, then try again. We've both got plenty of time.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Temple
The Valley of Peace

I watch as the Temple's roof explodes, Tai Lung and his former master shooting up into the air to strike at and wrestle with each other. Tai Lung appears to get the edge as they crash back down, making a new hole.

Honestly thought I'd have more time than this.

"All I ever did, I did to make you proud!"

I'll step in… Ah, slither in, if it looks like he's actually about to kill the chap, but even when they were on good terms they mostly related to each other by hitting each other.

"Tell me how proud you are, Shifu!"

I get close enough to see through one of the holes in the wall their fighting has created.

"Tell me!"

His hands are burning with blue fire. Burning oil from one of the braziers.

"TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Both sets of knuckles strike his diminutive opponent and send him flying backwards towards the pool at the end of the room. Okay, last… I flick out my tongue. Dumplings? Where..? Oh, the Panda's coming back. Huh. Hadn't really paid him much attention before, but he's gained quite a bit of mental focus from somewhere. Hm. Having Tai Lung sent back to prison would probably cause my task to flip over into 'flat out impossible', but it would be best if I didn't reveal myself.

"I… I have always been proud of you." The Red Panda pushes himself up slightly from where he fell. "From the first-" He pants. "-moment, I've been… Proud of you."

Tai Lung stalks closer. But.. some of the passion that drove him to assault his father figure appears to be waning.

"And it was my pride… That blinded me. I loved you too much to see what you were becoming." Shaking with effort, he turns his head to face Tai Lung. "What I… Was turning you into. I'm s-. I'm sorry."

What do you want?

Tai Lung's eyes dim. For a moment he stands like a statue, motionless and lifeless.

Then he falls to his knees, rocking back and forth slightly as conflicting emotions surge through him.

"I'm sorry, master."

Shifu blinks, taking a few more panting breaths as he tries to work out what just happened. "Ah… What did you say?"

"I'm sorry, master."

There's a quaver in his voice.

"Oh. Okay." Shifu blinks again and nods. Then he frowns, staring up at hulking foster son. "What?"

"I'm sorry, master." Tai Lung drops onto all fours, choking back his tears. "I…" He crawls towards his not-entirely-up-to-speed former mentor. "I thought that was what I was for. I thought that was what you were training me for. Everything… Everything that was worth anything about me, I had because of you… I thought-" Shifu is looking a little nervous now, as the clearly distraught Snow Leopard still towers over him. "-that I needed to validate that by…" He sniffs. "By being the absolute greatest Kung Fu warrior that exists. By becoming the Dragon Warrior. And then… And then when Oogway turned me away…" He collapses onto his chest, hands gripping his head. "I thought I failed you. And you didn't.. care…"

Nervously, Shifu sits up and then cautiously reaches forwards with his right hand to gently pat Tai Lung on the head. "There. There?"

Tai Lung darts forwards, wrapping his arms around his former master's back and pressing his face against the man's chest as he bawls into his robe. Shifu freezes completely still for a moment, then sighs and goes back to patting him. "I have no idea what is happening any longer, but-"

"Waaahahaheeeeeh!"

"-I would rather not have to fight you and I am not having to fight you. So, I will not question it." Another sigh, deeper this time as his immediate need for oxygen is dealt with. "I should have pressed Oogway for answers-"

"Ughuhhuhuhrrr!"

"-then and there, if only to find out where I was going wrong in my teachings. And, now I think I will have to apologise to Master Tigress too, for the way I treated her."

Tai Lung makes an unsettling noise, like he's got an awful lot of snot built up but doesn't want to blow it out over his master's robes.

"Oh, hey!" The Panda stands at the smashed in doors of the temple. For a moment, he beams at them. Then he doubles over, panting hard from his exertion in running all of the way up the mountain. Well, he is a big Panda, with.. proportionally short legs. "You guys made up! Whaw, aheh." He sighs with exaggerated relief. "I thought I was actually going to have to fight you for a while there!"

Shifu taps his son on the head, then gives him a slight push. Tai Lung pulls back a little, rising into a hunched all-fours position as he turns to see who it is.

"'Cause, y'know, even with the Scroll, I…" He holds his right hand up in a request for time while he bends over, gasping for air. "I've only actually been… Studying Kung Fu… For a couple of weeks…"

Tai Lung stares at him in utter bewilderment. "This is the Dragon Warrior."

Shifu closes his eyes again, nodding. "I know."

"I feel-"

"I know."

"-not, less bad-"

"I know."

"-but-."

"I know."

"You guys have made up, right?"

Tai Lung is still too bewildered to respond coherently. Shifu looks him over, then returns his attention to the Panda. "He isn't on a rampage anymore, and he's been in prison for twenty years for his crimes." He takes a deep breath as he attempts to centre himself. "So I suppose we have."

"Oh. Cool." The Panda waddles forwards towards them. "In that case-" He pulls the Dragon Scroll out of his back pocket. "-I guess there's really no harm in letting you read-" Shifu starts frantically shaking his head and waving his arms back and forth across his chest in an emphatic 'no' gesture. "-the scroll after all." He notices Shifu. "What?"

Tai Lung can't bring himself to look at it. He shakes his head. "I-I don't want to read it. I don't deserve-."

The Panda holds the rolled up scroll out in front of him. "Hey, it's cool." Tai Lung starts backing away. "I don't think it's about whether you deserve it or not, really. Because, y'know, heh." He shakes his head. "I sure didn't."

"No. No." He raises his right hand to block his view of it. "I don't want to see it!"

The Panda shakes his head. "I think it's like one of those zen puzzle things? Y'know, the answer's something you can't understand until your head's in exactly the right place."

"Po!"

Oh, that's his name.

"I didn't get it when I first saw it. And, ahh…" He leans forwards, mantling his mouth with his free hand to stage-whisper. "Between you and me, I don't think Master Shifu did either."

"I don't want to see it!"

"It's fine, look." Po unrolls it and holds.. the blank but surprisingly reflective scroll out in front of him. A mirrored surface. Oh, that's clever. And a bit stupid.

Tai Lung puts his left hand over his eyes, waving Po away with his right as he comes closer. "Stay away!"

"Here."

"No!"

"Here." Po knocks his outstretched arm aside and tries waving the scroll in his face.

"No! I don't want it!"

"Here. You gotta-" Po tries pulling the hand over Tai Lung's face off so he can wave the scroll at his eyes. "-see-" Tai tries to turn away, but since he can't see where he's going he trips and falls onto his back. "-what's on-" Tai tries rolling onto his front, a motion Po converts into a confused roll which results in Tai lying on Po's vast stomach with the scroll in his face. "-this!"

Tai Lung blinks, squeezes his eyes closed. Too late. He's already seen it. His eyes come open again, staring madly at the surface.

"See what I mean."

"I DID! ALL THIS! FOR A BLANK..! For a blank scroll…"

"Guess you… Kinda did. The way I see it…"

Okay, I think he's done. So that's all of them. Past me, you need to go and deal with Ambush Bug now. It's been a while, but I seem to remember it going something like this…

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:23 GMT -5

The orange beams reconnect to me the moment I reappear.

"Recharge complete." / "Recharge complete."

What.

Future me meets..? No. Deal with pirates and robots first, have existential breakdown later. Rings, what's going-?

Brilliant flashes of light from the other side of my bedroom door. Deal with that first. A destructive bolt annihilates the door as the rings show me the exterior. A series of mobile force field projectors have been set up at the end furthest away from the hangar. Behind them, pirates armed with coilguns are firing down the corridor towards the advancing robots, which return fire with beams of golden energy. Rob's standing next to the pirates, and with electricity crackling around his forearms he shoves one aside and blasts lightning into their mechanical foes. Not a bad choice, the coilguns aren't powerful enough to put the robots down permanently in anything less than overwhelming numbers but they can knock holes in their insulated armour.

"Orange Lantern to Cornwall, cease fire."

"Oran-? Right. Cease fire! Get down!"

Remarkably, the pirates promptly obey.

Ring, railgun, unmakers. Stewart ring, energy pulses. Both, construct armour.

Compliance. / Confirmed.

I step out into the corridor and a strange dislocation comes over me, déjà vu of a possibly literal kind. Orange beams blast for their centres of mass while the railgun tracks them xenomorph style, head shots to kill and leg shots to impair mobility. I could have done this from inside but I know my construct armour is tougher and has better battery life than the mobile force field generators and I should probably make an effort to preserve our apparent allies.

And a moment later, all the remaining robots are down. Eight lie on the floor, though I'm sure that there were more when we started. Can't feel any more in this section. Right. I turn back to the pirate line. "Cornwall, what's going on?"

A few pirates have their guns pointed at me, so as a show of good faith I drop my railgun construct as Rob manoeuvres around the barricades. "The pirates are on our side now and we're all fighting the robots."

A man in a red greatcoat follows him around the barricades, then strides past him towards me. "Captain Tyrone Fortune, at your service."

"Orange Lantern two eight one four."

He seems disquieted by my response. "Do none of the men of this era have rational names?"

"I gave you my rank and the length of my writ. I have to like you before I give you my name. What led you to work for Ambush Bug?"

"He appeared from thin air upon my ship, the Revenge. He said that he wished to commission us to attack a target and that he would pay us well for our efforts. Once I had his sworn word that the target was not an English possession, I accepted. Then this madness began."

"Witchcraft is what it is, Captain!"

His head snaps around, scowling. "That's enough, Mister Harrow. We have one slim chance to see our homes again and I'll not have your bellyaching ruin it!"

Rob looks at Captain Fortune for a moment, then returns his attention to me. "Ambush Bug's still around somewhere. He said something about this pushing our ratings up." He shakes his head. "That bloke's seriously messed up."

"The robots?"

"They can take a beating, but we can put them down. Then they-" He waves his right hand at the wrecks. "-disappear. I think he's fixing them up. The Bio-Ship took a few nasty hits, so Aqualad had Speedy take it back outside."

"The League?"

He shakes his head. "We lost contact after the Bio-Ship left and the zeta tubes aren't working. Icon's still here, but that's about it. If he could move a bit of the Caribbean to the Antarctic we could be anywhere." He glances at Captain Fortune. "Or anywhen."

I reach around to my back and pull the robo-bug off my armour. "Okay. I should be able to prevent him recovering his robots or teleporting. Ring, analyse, and update the jamming system we used on Johnny Sorrow."

"Update complete."

Rob looks sceptical. "And the rest?"

"I was given a plan for that from a version of me from the future."

"Blimey."

"I should be able to stop him, but he's going to have all of my attention. We'll need to attack the hangar."

"If he hasn't got infinite robots anymore, we can do it. Captain?"

Captain Fortune turns back to his men. "Look lively, you sorry swabbies! Get those barricades moving!"

A couple of pirates hand their guns off to their comrades and switch the shield generators to tower shield mode. They're really too heavy and awkward to be used like that in a fight, but they should at least be able to protect the people behind them from a few shots. I raise my left hand to my ear. "Orange Lantern to Aqualad. I've jammed the robots' recall ability and Cornwall and I will be assaulting the hangar."

"Good work. The rest of us will deal with the robots attacking us and then push towards the hangar. Wait for us before beginning your attack."

"Understood." I generate an orange barrier and lead the advance down the corridor. "Whereabouts you from, Captain?"

"Portsmouth. I was granted a letter of marque by his Majesty King Charles the Second." He looks me over. "Now look you, you're the second Englishman we've met here so I want a plain answer. Is this English territory?"

"Charles the Second? Late seventeenth century?"

"The year was sixteen seventy eight, though I take from your question that it no longer is."

"Hey!" Rob looks concerned. "We weren't telling them because we didn't want to change history or anything."

"Bit late for that. In answer to your question, Captain, this is not English territory. Britain conquered all French and Spanish territory in North America before losing most of it to a revolt by the colonials. We're presently in Rhode Island."

"I know of it. And the year?"

"Twenty Eleven. Elizabeth the Second rules Britain and the United States of America are our allies. I say 'our', for reasons which don't really bear going into I'm not actually a British citizen myself."

"Britain?"

Ring? Oh. "England and Scotland will be unified under King Charles the Second's niece, Queen Anne. The resulting state will be called Great Britain."

"Niece?" He frowns. "But Prince James is Catholic."

"And that's what seems odd to you about what I just said?"

"It has a beatitude of being unfamiliar in a familiar way. To be frank, the rest is a bit much."

"Fair enough. Charles had the sense to realise that his heirs being Catholic was a bit much for the country. He made sure his nieces were raised Anglican. I hope you'll be pleased to know that Christian on Christian religious wars are a thing of the past."

"I lived through Cromwell and the Restoration. I am well glad of it." He raises his coilgun as I destroy a patrolling robot. "I don't suppose that I could prevail upon you to permit us the continued use of these arquebuses once this affair is over, could I?"

"Not a chance."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:30 GMT -5

Rob looks at me across the energy weapon lit corridor. "You think he knows you're back?"

The fusillade doesn't cut out as we hear the sound of heavy metal feet charging down the hallway.

I generate a construct railgun and shield. "Could be."

I stick my construct out of cover for an instant and a shining beam of something immediately blasts it apart. About fifteen metres away is the lift shaft down to the hangar. Between it and us are eight robot warriors (now sporting force field barriers on their arms) and something which I really hope isn't an adult Mister Mind in a Skeets body. With everything that's been going on I hope I can be forgiven for not spotting the pirate-robot-Ambush Bug link to 52, but Skeets being on an Earth with no Booster Gold was a bit of a clue. I can only detect where it is by the area the rings won't scan. They have no idea at all what it's shooting and the one time I burrowed enough constructs through the walls on either side of the corridor to tag it, I couldn't affect its epidermis quickly enough to noticeably impair it. Its armour was made of Waverider's skin, wasn't it? The Guardians appear to have a bit of a thing about time travel. No help from the Stewart ring and I'm not quite ready to cut loose with the qwa matter just yet.

I like this planet.

"I'll draw its fire. Get those robots down."

"Right. Captain, shields first."

I shoot up to the top of the corridor. Thiiis is going to suck.

Head facing towards the robot and feet back to present the narrowest possible profile, I begin stabbing forwards with crumbler constructs. Skeets can manage three shots a half second, then needs a half second to recharge. I can fire faster, but not with enough power for him to consider it a threat. Everything around me slows as my beams intersect with his and I manually trigger the crumbler effects. His beams are mildly destabilised after one intersection. Two and they cease to exist. They come from the smaller gold lumps floating around his main chassis. I can judge the angle from how the smaller dots in the rear line up with the larger ones, but my constructs need to already be moving when he fires.

He's fired three volleys before the mobile shields are in place, their owners immediately dropping down on their chests to allow their comrades clear shots. As the first of the combat robots start taking coilgun fire Skeets adds a tenth of a second delay to his shot that I wasn't expecting. A fire extinguisher flies through the air as I realise that my filaments are out of position and I can't get-

NRUGUGHEH

The air shoots from my lungs as I wake up, trying to catch a breath and I can't! The night sky is all around and OH SHIT THAT'S THE EARTH! I see the Earth and it's a long way away and I can't breathe!

NOYOUDON'T

-my crumbler filaments back into position fast enough to prevent myself being hit. Uuh. Rings, calculate difference between that shot and the previous.

Lightning blasts from Rob's arms once more, arcing through the water spilled by the holed extinguisher to bypass the robots' barriers. The ones closest to the pirates' position begin to smoke and shudder.

Analysis available.

The shields covering one robot blink out and the pirates concentrate their fire on its chest. The combined force of the impacts knocks it back into its fellows where it slumps and doesn't rise. Skeets switches to irregular fire as I create crumbler barriers. Five layers covering the arc between me and him and this is going to cane my power reserves if we can't win here quickly. Fire from the robots' arm weapons finally downs a shield barricade, the pirates behind it throwing themselves aside to evade the incoming fire. I see hits to arms, legs and upper chest as they aren't quite fast enough. Skeets' next shot passes through the first and second barrier layers but the next three trigger as intended and the attack fizzles out. Then he switches back to full speed firing to try overwhelming it.

The water on the floor freezes, momentarily robbing the robots of friction. As several start to slip, Rob gestures and it reliquefies, flowing upwards and freezing around their joints. Another shield barricade is brought into position and activated as I create another barrier layer, trying to get closer to Skeets. I've got less time to intercept but the barriers can detect whatever weird alteration that beam makes to them, allowing me to judge the required position with complete-.

Skeets cuts his repulsor and drops down the lift shaft, just as the last of the robots fall.

Uh.

Time accelerates back to normal as Rob waves the water aside and the pirates undeploy the barriers once more.

"By God! What was that thing?"

I drop back down, towards the wounded pirates. No fatalities, I note. "I'm not sure, Captain."

Rob frowns at me. "Thought it hit you."

"It did. For a moment I was back to when I first arrived in this reality. Without the ring." Filaments slide over the burns on the bodies of the wounded, mending flesh and repairing clothing. "Orange Lantern to Aqualad, we're about ready here. Slight problem, he's got some sort of drone weapon. Its weapon appears able to bypass my defensive constructs."

"Do you believe it is safe to proceed?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm preventing him from summoning more reinforcements… But if we don't do something, he can sit in the hangar with it indefinitely." I think for a moment. My… What I hope to be my future self -because recruiting those people would be ridiculous and awesome- didn't mention Skeets being here, which is kind of a big oversight. On the other hand, the other aspects of his thoughts on the matter still seem reasonably sensible. "I think I.. might still be able to talk him down. But it'll require my full attention if I have to dodge the drone as well."

Rob and a couple of the pirates are attaching ropes to the lift shaft. They'll be a second wave if the Atlanteans can't down our attackers and I can't talk Doctor Schwab out of it.

"Make the attempt. We will not be able to guarantee his survival if we are forced to attack at full power."

"I'll keep transmitting. Transitioning now."

Doctor Schwab floats over the hangar pool, sitting in what looks a lot like one of Doctor Ivo Robotnik's flying pods. Some robots have taken defensive positions around the entrances while others are clamped to the walls to make sure they have clear shots. Skeets floats just behind his new master. Prepare to dodge…

Doctor Schwab scowls… I think. It looks like he's supposed to be scowling, the mask makes it hard to tell. "You again. What's it take to get rid of you, huh?"

"I'm not entirely clear why you're so set on doing that."

"Because you're an SI. Have you any idea how much you mess up the story just by being here? It's hard enough to keep these things on the air as it is, and you don't even want to ask about the merchandising." He leans forwards. "I already saw one series fall into the abyss. I'm not about to let that happen again."

"So why did you bring pirates-"

"Privateers!"

"-and robots here? Please tell me you don't have Mister Mind in there."

"Hah! You admit it!"

"Admit what?"

"The only way you could know how they're linked is if you read it!"

"How do you know then?"

"I was there. Obviously. Anyway, I don't know exactly how much damage you've done, but privateers fighting robots should be enough of a draw that I get time to get rid of you permanently."

"Now, hold on a moment. How can you be sure I've done any damage at all?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:34 GMT -5

"Polling data."

I raise my eyebrows. "Polling data?"

"Market analysis. People keep buying Superman comics, Batman comics… Heck, they've been buying them for seventy years. Name one comic about socioeconomics."

"Spice and Wolf."

I think he's frowning. "Name. Two. Or name one that's seventy years old!"

"Okay… I can't."

"War and Peace is fine, but this just isn't the War and Peace universe."

"No, it's Universe Sixteen."

"Right, Young Justice. You gotta keep the ratings up, gotta move the merch, or you get cancelled. What people like is what they spend money on."

"And you think my being here is creating a genre shift that is going to drive people away?"

"Obviously. If Reed Richards isn't useless then you end up with a setting people can't relate to. One that doesn't look like what they see out of the window."

"Watchmen sold perfectly well, and that has electric cars everywhere, Nixon serving three terms-."

"And it was a limited run thing!"

"And a film-."

"And the prequel series and now I hear they're doing a TV series! Now you wanna tell me how many series Batman's had since Watchmen got published?"

Um. Animated, Brave and the Bold, The Batman, Beware… "Four?"

"You wish. People like what they like. And you're a threat to that. Skeets?" The robot floats up a little.

"Wait a second. Wait a second. You think I'm an SI right? The author embodied in the story?"

"Yah huh."

"But if I die, why would the author carry on writing it? I mean, if I'm their window on this world…"

"Nice try, but this universe will just fold back into the real Young Justice. We probably won't even remember you ever happened by the time season two comes around."

Oh dear. "But the competition in the Superhero comic market is so great that this might well get cancelled anyway. And if that happens, aside from the occasional reality jumping thing no one will hear from us again."

His arms shoot up. "I know that! But what can I do?! I have to go for the route that gives us the best chance!"

"Oh, come on! Do you know how meta you made this episode? Self indulgent cleverness turns people off like nothing else."

"Only from your point of view. From everyone else's, they got a quick lesson on the Antarctic's environment and an awesome fight with robots and pirates! And that Grayven guy, for the niche crossover appeal."

Who? No, never mind. "But maybe a different approach would work better."

"Like what?"

"You know… Probably better than I do, how many different superhero comics there are. Lots, right?" He nods. "Okay then. Why should people buy this one over the others?"

"Greg Weisman?"

I frown. "The Street Sharks guy?"

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"But… You think… The me who's.. outside.. is writing this. So even if Greg Weisman is the original writer, that doesn't have any impact on the quality of.. what we're experiencing now. Right?"

I think I'm getting a bit out of my depth now.

"It's his setting. He's got a series bible, it's got good fundamentals. The setting's coherent. Lotsa stories start in worse places."

"Okay, but… Even if it's a good example of the superhero genre, it's inevitably going to be retreading a lot of ground, right?"

"I.. guess..?"

"So what's unique about it? See, what I'm thinking… What if all the things I'm doing are what make it stand out? I mean, on a newsagent shelf there are going to be a dozen comics about a superhero punching someone in the face. How many uplift comics are there?"

"None! They wouldn't sell!"

"Internet. I know there's never going to be the same size of market for things like that, but it's possible to have perfectly successful niche players that just run and run. Even if we never make this continuity equal Earth One-"

"Ahhhbout that-."

"-if we put ourselves in a position no one wants to compete with, that will do more to assure our survival than being one of a crowd. There should be at least enough people interested to support one uplift superhero story. One that tries to be both realistic about the consequences of superheroic actions without being all grimdark all the time. Where characters can make lasting changes to the setting for the better, and have them stick. In a setting only written in by one author, that can happen! And it can attract a loyal enough audience to keep it going!"

"You got Ted Kord and those other guys working on that, right?"

"Yes?"

"Skeets."

Transition!

I'm on the other side of the room as the little robot's beams send chunks of floor… Somewhere. "What the hell was that for?"

The pod thing swivels around. "It's a good idea, but there's no way DC'll okay something like that with characters they don't own! You're still an SI so you've still gotta go!"

"How do you know I'm an SI!? How do you-" Transition. "-know I don't have media awareness like you do?! Have you-" Transition. "-checked every comic in every setting DC owns!?"

"Of course not! That's what the wiki's for."

Transition. "But that only works for named characters!"

"Skeets, knock it off for a second." The robot stops, and Ambush Bug's pod floats in my direction as I head for the door to the kitchen. "What d'ya mean by that?"

"What if I'm a minor character who got promoted?"

"How d'you mean?"

"How many Orange Lantern Corps characters can most fans name? Larfleeze, Sayd, Glomulus, maybe Blume… Then it's that butler guy…" I shrug. "But in theory anyone can get a power ring. What if rather than being an SI, I'm a reference to an old DC property. Greg Weisman.. or one of the artists read something years ago and thought 'hey, why don't I put that guy in it'? If that's what happened, then I'm fully owned by DC." I land and spread my arms out. "I mean, it wouldn't exactly be out of character. Who heard of Queen Bee or Sportsmaster or.. Nylor flipping Truggs before this?"

"I…" Ambush Bug looks thoughtful, his right hand going to his mouth. "So are you saying you are a minor character?"

"How would I know? For all I know, we're having this conversation to establish that social battles can work for final showdowns just as well as violent battles. But whatever I am, this is my home. I don't want it to stop existing, but I'm not prepared to abandon everything I've wanted to do to make it better. That would be denying my heroic identity."

He vanishes from the pod and appears next to me. "I see where you're coming from… But the only way to know for sure…" I activate the bug and pull open the kitchen door. He looks into the room I just revealed. "Oh no."

It's not the kitchen. Videos, DVDs, film reels and out of date radios litter the various available surfaces. But more than anything else, there are comics. Stacks, piles, drifts of them, reaching up to the heavens and off into infinity. Everything DC ever produced, every published work and unpublished author's note.

Ambush Bug shrinks back from it. "You can't… Ask me…"

"It's the only way to know for sure. You have to check.. everything. Because if I'm in there at all, I'm canon. And if I'm canon, then I'm authorised. And if I'm authorised, this deviation from the normal tropes has been authorised by DC Editorial. And if you go against that… Well, who knows?"

"I'm too pretty to go unpublished for years again!"

I look into the room again. "Then you know what you have to do."

He stares at the monstrous piles of comics. Then he reaches into his belt and pulls out a remote control. One click and the pod, Skeets and the other robots all vanish. "If I gotta, then I gotta."

He takes a deep breath, then marches into the comic cave and closes the door behind him.

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:39 GMT -5

I deactivate the bug, wait for a moment-

"Recognised, Superman, zero one."

-and then open the door again. Just a kitchen. Just a kitchen. Thank goodness.

"Recognised, Wonder Woman, zero three."

"Orange Lantern to everyone. He's gone." I take a deep breath, then turn away and let the ring float me down the steps.

Mister Kent's moved to the middle of the hangar, eyes glowing as he searches for targets. Diana -resplendent in the gold and red plate armour Io and Ted made for her- gives the hangar a quick glance and then flies towards me.

"Orange Lantern, what happened?"

"Pirates, robots, Ambush Bug… And a whole lot of really weird stuff that I'm probably going to ask to leave out of the official report." I sigh. "Is now a good time to bring up the idea of automated defences again?"

"Are you still under attack?"

Ring, scan. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Kaldur, Rob? Icon? Pirates and robots?"

"Gone, mate. They just disappeared."

"The mountain's systems detect no further presence."

The water in the hangar pool surges as it lifts the Atlanteans onto the Bio-Ship landing platform. No targets in sight, Mister Kent lowers himself to consult Kaldur.

"Sounds like we're safe, sir. Though I may have had my view of reality permanently altered." Her fists.. unclench. Huh, hadn't noticed that. "Sorry we were out of contact, sir, but I understand that Doctor Schwab did something to the mountain."

She nods, then raises her right hand to her ear. "Wonder Woman to League. Stand down. Situation normal."

Oh dear. "Rob, did the coilguns go with the pirates or stay here?"

"Still got 'em here. Um, could you give me a hand putting them back in the armoury?"

"Sure, just…" Oh, hang on. "Look, it's past eleven UK time. Why don't you just head home? Let the rest of us handle cleaning up."

"Come on mate, I'm not going to be able to sleep after this."

"Alright. Ah, just do a quick visual inspection… See if any fabric or blood from the pirates who were hit got left behind. I'll handle the guns."

"On it. Thanks."

Diana waits for a moment to make sure that my conversation with Rob is over. "I read your report on your encounter with Doctor Schwab in Antarctica. I'm not sure why finding out that other versions of you exist would be so disturbing. You got on surprisingly well with your Blue Lantern alter ego, and he was a criminal."

"Meeting them would have been fine." I generate a couple of construct armchairs and deposit myself in the closest. "Living parts of their lives as if I was them is a bit different. I mean… You've met your Dane of Elysium a few times but you've never lived as him. And you certainly never lived as the vampire version of you you met that one time."

She sits down opposite me, nodding supportively. "Okay. What exactly was it that upset you so much?"

"I come from… For the sake of this conversation, let's call it Earth Prime. I checked, there isn't a version of me here. No Me Sixteen. I assumed that meant that I wouldn't have doppelgängers, that whatever it is that causes there to be lots of versions of Wonder Woman or Superman or.. whoever, didn't apply to me. That my point of origin was outside that. But they all remember coming from the same place I did. Exactly the same."

"If they were real."

"What I saw Blue Lantern doing was consistent with how he behaved when I met him, and.. with how I'd behave. And the time I spent in his head-. No, as him… It's possible, but I've got no reason to assume that the others were any different." I shrug. "So maybe we're all copies of an original? I can't know for sure unless I visit… Home."

"You don't talk about your family much."

"They're not really relevant to what I'm doing here. And since I can't communicate with them…" But it wouldn't do for her to think I was avoiding the subject. I take a holoprojector out of subspace and have the ring take images from my memories. "Dad, Mum-" I point them out in turn. "-my sister Karen, sister's boyfriend Peter, Aunty Sallie and Uncle Richard, Uncle Simon… He doesn't actually have that moustache anymore, that's just how he looked when I was younger. The Cats: Bubbles and Magic. My grandparents." My grandparents died a few years ago, but I show them as they were… As I think they were when I was eighteen. "So, okay, maybe I'm a copy. That's fine, everything I've done since I got here is all me and all that jazz. Second time Doctor Schwab bugged me I ended up in-" Oh, irony of ironies. "-a setting I recognise from a work of fiction. I think I was.. a future version of me."

"From what little I understand about the way the Bleed works, there may well be parallel universes that resemble works of fiction." I have the ring seize control of my facial muscles. "Maybe you saw yourself visiting them in the future."

"Yes, but a combination of that and Doctor Schwab referring to this setti-. This universe as fictional and interacting physically with things I believed to be fictional and... The fact I had to get into his metaphorical head to convince him to leave left me a bit discomported."

"He just left?"

"He believed that I risked lowering the series' ratings and so causing cancellation. Once I convinced him that the setting could distinguish itself from other superhero works by embracing my ideas-" Her eyes narrow slightly but her lie sense doesn't go off. "-he was worried that the company which owns this work couldn't profit from it because I'm creator-owned. I told him that he'd risk going against editorial policy unless he checked, so… I opened a door and there was a big pile of comics… And he'll have to read them all to check I'm not a promoted background character." Her mouth is hanging open slightly. I look up at the cavern roof. "Does this mean I beat Batman for craziest villain now?"

"If he was genuinely trying to save the entire universe from being cancelled then I'm not certain that he is a villain. Where is he now?"

"No idea, and hopefully he'll stay there for a long time." I get up. "We also need to check historical records for a privateer named Captain Tyrone Fortune to make sure he got back to his own era alright.. Assuming he wasn't a fictional character as well. Oh, and the pod at STAR Labs."

"The Atom's been working on it since we lost contact with you." She rises from her seat and I remove the constructs. Mister Kent appears to have finished speaking to Kaldur and they are walking our way. "Despite the difficulty you appear to have handled yourselves well."

I nod. "How are you finding the armour?"

She moves her right arm… A little awkwardly, actually. "It is a little more confining than I'm used to. I want to give it a fair-" She's not looking directly at me. Diana's terrible at deceit. "-try before I-" Ring? "-give my final-."

"What happened to your arms?" Under the golden metal covering her limbs are a series of nasty looking burns and.. scalding injuries, like she wrestled someone who was made of fire.

"It will heal quickly. And it is a useful reminder that I am not invulnerable."

"Did you wrestle an Elemental or something?"

"No." She turns her head back towards me. "But it seems that you were right about Richard Swift."