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

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
17:21 GMT -5

Hub City.

Pre-Batman Gotham without the architectural pretensions. The bit of Illinois that the rest of Illinois likes to pretend doesn't exist. And… I don't know. It was a hole during prohibition, it's been a hole since and it was probably a hole before that if we had the data to know for certain. Detroit says 'we're not Hub City'.

And it's not worth fixing. If I arrayed all of the countries of the world in order 'most in need of intervention' to 'least in need of intervention', I'd still have to go through hundreds of places before this was my highest priority. America-crap is still America, and this place by itself doesn't manage to turn a first world country into a third world one. The effort involved to completely overhaul everything would be huge, and there are plenty of places where that could more usefully be done. A lesser effort -such as The Question is supplying- barely manages to keep the rot from spreading.

The people manning the morgue barely bother looking up as the faceless man pushes the door open and lets himself in. This place is… Not as clean as it should be. It's not dirty-dirty, but it's far from medical facility standards. I see… Broken locks and wear and tear. No one manning the front desk. The computer there still had a cathode ray monitor, and that was locked to the desk.

"Where is she?"

"That is-" Please don't. "-the question." He looks over to one of the mortuary workers, who is listlessly leafing through a newspaper.

He looks up. "What?" I get a momentary look of interest, then he goes back to looking at Mister Sage. "You know the deal."

"Not my case."

I can't tell where he's looking without scanning through his mask. Which it turns out I can still do. I suppose that not everyone can keep abreast of the latest in thaumaturgical developments as well as maintaining two identities. Bruce Wayne had an inherited fortune, Victor Sage has an ill-maintained lighthouse. Heck, I could have one of my rings alter my vision so that I can see his face as if the mask weren't there. But… I don't. Because ridiculous as doing this with a man with no face is, it would somehow feel more ridiculous doing it with a man with a normal face.

"You pay bribes now?"

"Fighting mortuary technicians takes too much time."

"Fine." I raise my left hand in benediction. "If I started paying bribes now-" Holly doesn't count. "-I'd never stop, but-" Up to date computer equipment appears, dirt vanishes and equipment shimmers orange and then is as good as new. "-I can stretch to giving you the equipment you need to do your job."

The man takes a look around. "Saves me an annoying job tonight." He eases his chair back, and languidly rises to his feet. "Right this way."

"What made you contact the Question about this?"

"Someone gets killed, someone gets paid off. Or threatened. Even if it's shooting a thief in some warehouse. Technically, this isn't a stand your ground state." He shrugs. "This time, nothing." He comes to a stop in front of a drawer. "Gotta get my payoff some how."

"At least you're-" He pulls out the tray, watching my face as he does so. "-reliable." The body is in reasonable condition, and the bullet wounds-. I frown. "Did the security guards report her saying anything after they shot her?"

He grins, his disappointment at my stronger than predicted stomach washed away by my 'out of town' attitude. "You think they're saying anything?"

"Do you have anything useful to add?"

He raises his hands and turns to walk away. "Close her up when you're done doing whatever you're doing."

I raise my left hand and run a scan. "Why did you think this was worth my attention?"

"Officially unidentifiable bodies are not uncommon in Hub City. But some effort is usually made to identify them in case someone will take exception. This one was genuinely unidentified. Not local or state."

Curious. "Not reported missing, or you're sure she's not from around here?"

"Not reported missing, no police record in state. Nothing in the Alliance database."

"Uploading police reports to the Alliance database might be a little problematic, even for superheroes with good working relationships with the local police." I lift my hand away. Ring, ruthlessly plunder databases until you have a match.

Compliance.

"The bullet impacts don't appear to have been the cause of death. She might have lost use of the arm, but…" Yep, same as the other ones. I create a scan of her brain. "See here?"

"An aneurysm?"

"Technically, yes. But not a natural one. There have been a significant number of thefts across America recently where any thieves caught died with this injury."

"A suicide implant?"

"No residue my ring can detect. And Maryanne Sugden, fifty four, from Missouri, had no criminal record. Just like the rest."

"Mind control?"

"It's possible, but it's virtually impossible to detect after they're dead, certainly impossible after… That."

"More questions. Do you know what was stolen?"

"If it fits the pattern of the others,-" Which Kaldur told me when the alternative was asking me to wait outside of the third pawn shop. "-an icon from a dead religion."

"Magic?"

"Possibly, but probably not. The thefts in progress we stopped just involved small unenchanted statues. There are spells that can be cast with things like that, but if that's what you're doing it's usually just as easy to carve your own." I dismiss the brain scan with a sigh. "Would the victim of the theft be willing to provide more information?"

He bows his head slightly. "Define 'willing'."

"Not that I wish to interfere with any ongoing investigations you're performing, but I see no need to be confrontational about this. We're investigating a death we now know whoever it was didn't cause. High muckamuck criminals usually take other organisations stealing from them very personally."

"True. Pride takes the place of actual honor. That may be enough to motivate him." He reaches out for the corpse, right hand passing over her blood splattered eyes and lightly touching her forehead. "The death of criminals doesn't trouble me. However, if what you say is true then she… Wasn't…"

"Question?"

"Strange." He withdraws his hand.

"What is?"

"When I first tried to fight the wickedness of this city, it overwhelmed me. I came to the attention of many evil men and a few evil women. I left, half dead, and sought a new approach."

"What sort of approach?"

"Do you know of Nanda Parbat?" I nod. "While there, I learned to listen to the spirit of the world around me. Even after death, I should be able to feel the echoes of a person's life. When I touched her, I felt nothing at all."

…

Oh dear.

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
18:44 GMT -5

Jeremiah Hatch stares moodily at me from behind his desk. "The hell do you want?"

There are two armed men behind me, but as far as I can tell they're just here as set dressing. Their guns aren't anything like powerful enough to harm me through my armour, let alone my environmental shield.

"Two days ago security guards in your employ shot a woman by the name of-."

"That was legitimate-" He waves his whisky glass in a vague motion. "-self defence."

"Surprisingly, you may well be right there." He frowns. "The woman's name was Maryanne Sugden, and as far as I can tell she had absolutely no motive to steal from you. No criminal record, no evidence of narcotics, no debt… I can't even work out why she was in Hub City."

"A regular mystery."

"Which is why I'm hoping that you'll be willing to help me. It looks like someone is altering the minds of innocent people and using them for theft."

"Not a bad line. Have to remember it."

"The programmed thieves kill themselves when captured or… Disabled. This makes the thefts difficult to stop, because we need to locate the perpetrator of the mental conditioning." I shrug. "Capturing the thieves gets us nothing except the responsibility to explain what happened to their family."

"So you think it's just some nutty costume criminal like the No Face?"

"I don't want to make assumptions at this stage. Costumed criminals usually have… Certain psychological tells which don't appear to be in evidence here. The thieves aren't uniformed, don't have any unifying characteristics at all, actually. No one is openly boasting about our inability to stop them…"

"You're telling me it could just be some guy in an office."

"It's possible. Given the… Low value of the items stolen so far, my guess would be some sort of test run for the process."

"Low value?! Those were antiques!"

"Mister Hatch, I am not an insurance claims adjuster. I am questioning you because I am interested in stopping someone using mind control, not because I am interested in any other types of crime which may be happening. I have.. rapidly become used to Hub City."

He actually smiles. "Yeah, it's a hole, ain't it? Kinda makes you want to burn the whole place to the ground and start over?"

"I don't think I'd start over. But please, any information which you may have neglected to share with.. whatever passes for legitimate authority around here, may serve to prevent things being stolen from you in future. And allow me to track whoever stole from you this time."

"And then what?"

"I stop them from doing it again. And then I study their methods and work out how to prevent anyone doing it again."

He smiles faintly, then pushes his chair back, gets up and walks over to the window. "And Hub City?"

"I don't want to spend more time here than I absolutely have to."

He nods, his back to me as he toasts his home city through the window. "Damn thing was, she didn't even really try to get away."

"Didn't she?"

He turns back around. "I spoke to the guys on duty myself. Needed to make sure none of them were in on it. But all their stories lined up and checked out. Blew the lock on the fence with a small explosive, rushed the warehouse and opened the door the same way. Got into the computer while the guards checked out the initial explosion, went right to the crate… Well, I still say they're valuable. To a collector, maybe."

"Statues?"

"Authentic antique figurines. I handle shipping all kinds of things."

"And they ignored everything else…" Wait. "Off the record, were there drugs in the case?" Ah, yes, I see there were.

"There's no cause for that sort of accusation. I'm a legitimate businessman."

"And the sad thing is, by Hub City standards you may be right. Can you confirm that there were other, clearly higher value items in the crate along with whatever was stolen?"

He nods. "Yeah, I think I can."

"Did they take anything else?"

"A few things got broken, but…" He shakes his head. "Stealing to order is a thing, right? Guess someone really wanted a statue of Satan."

"Do you have a picture?"

"Yeah." He walks back to his desk and puts his drink down. Then he takes a small key out of his pocket, unlocks one of the drawers and takes out a card folder. He opens it and flicks through until he gets to a picture. "Here."

Not 'Satan'. Cernunnos. Which breaks the pattern a little, as neo-pagan groups have revived his worship. Still, it's not a big thing, and we don't exactly know what the criteria are anyway. The statue itself looks old enough. The style is… First century, or maybe a decent replica. I'm not an art historian.

I make a point of visibly scanning it. "Thank you. I'm sure this will be helpful. You were.. saying that she didn't try to escape?"

He nods as he returns the paperwork to his drawer. "Two guys stayed on the gate, one in the control room watching the cameras and calling for backup and three went after the thieves. Two of them inside: dead woman and some other guy. They split up... Long story short, she was carrying what they stole so my guys went after her. The other thief got over the fence, and she tossed it to him right before running back inside. Security didn't notice she wasn't carrying it any more, and took a shot… Too late to get it back."

"The man?"

"It was dark." He shrugs. "Police found the car he got away in two days later. No prints."

"Genetic material?"

He frowns. "Where you think this is, Metropolis?"

Alright. A man, or an unusually butch woman. Possibly working alone, athletic and… That's it. I'll check the car, but it's not that hard to avoid leaving genetic material for a few hours. Then if the statue's warded I'm out of luck.

"Have you had any other thefts like this?"

"Where the thief committed suicide by security guard?"

I nod. "Or where the object stolen was a small and apparently low value statue?"

"No. Neither. Usually they try real hard not to die."

"Do you have any other statues like this?"

"No. And I don't think I'll get any." He picks up his glass. "Looks like it draws the wrong sort of crowd."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:26 GMT -5

"…really nice people." Alan sounds genuinely chipper, something that's been happening a lot more since he became 'active' again. "I'm not sure what's got Batman so riled up. They're good kids. If we'd been this organised back in the fifties…"

I glance over to where Mr Sage is meditating cross legged on the bonnet of the car used as a getaway vehicle for the man who robbed Mr Hatch.

"I don't think he's riled up, exactly. It's his job, what he does for the Justice League. He makes sure that potential problems are investigated so that he's ready if they become actual problems. If they're not, then great."

"You still in Hub City?"

"At the moment. I'm just taking a look at the getaway car with the Question."

"So… Are you coming home tonight..?"

"Well... Ah, don't wait up, but I'm currently planning to."

"That.. Question guy. Ah… See, there was this one crazy guy back in the sixties, wore a suit and a metal mask. The Question kinda reminded me of him. Is he on the up and up?"

"I think so. I remember the man you're talking about, and I think that if the Question were like him then the murder rate around here would be a good deal higher. And he'd be dead from the retaliation." I look over to him again. No, still not stirring. "He's trying to commune with the car at the moment."

"Is it a… Magic car?"

"No, but it turns out that he's a minor magic user. I haven't seen him do anything beyond basic psychometry, but it's one thing I can't replicate with my rings."

"Good luck with that. I'll see you when-. Oh! That reminds me. How far have you got speaking to the members of the Justice League?"

"Not.. much further. It's something I want to do face to face, and with secret identities and everything it's hard to find time."

"And I get the feeling you're not exactly eager."

"You're right, I'm not." I sigh. "Did you..? I haven't heard you say anything about having a falling out like this in the Justice Society."

"That's because we didn't. I don't know whether that was because we mostly stuck to our own beats or because we mostly had the same moral beliefs, but I honestly can't remember us ever having something like this hanging over us for any length of time. I mean, there was that thing with Sandy… But by the time any of us knew that he was okay… Mentally okay, Wesley had already fixed things."

"It's not really the same thing. Mister Hawkins had gone on a rampage before being contained. Yes, with the benefit of hindsight… Getting him somewhere isolated and checking that he was still crazy might have been a good idea, but I'm not sure how practical it would have been. And that's… Not what happened with Nabu."

"I know. I know. Personally, I'd just try and get it done as quick as possible. Try the people who'll argue the point with you the strongest, get it out of the way."

So… Hawks? Well, no secret identity problem there. "Yeah… You're right. I'll.. try and prioritise it."

"You do that. Okay, you have a good evening."

"Good night, Alan."

I let the phone construct evaporate, then take a few steps towards Mr Sage. The problem with self-taught minor magicians is that while they might get quite good at using their particular abilities, those skills aren't transferable to other parts of the arcane world. If he can do what he claims to be able to do, we could find something jolly useful. If he can't, I can't get someone else in to do it. It's not Ambrose's thing, and brute forcing it high magic style would be inefficient to say the least.

Mr Sage slides off the bonnet and onto his feet with a squeak of the suspension. "We need the key."

"For the car? I can just start it-."

"Without the key, the car is not whole. If it is not whole, then it cannot lead us." He starts pacing. "We need the key."

Ah. He's still in the trance. He's only semi-aware of his surroundings as he tries to do what the echoes in his soul are telling him to. He needs to do things step by step… How vital is the particular key? The thief will have touched it, but only briefly. The car was stolen after all, and we already know who the owner is. The key wasn't recovered, but I can create a replacement easily enough. I can't get the original key, and if he's trying to drive the car then walking the route probably isn't an option.

I fabricate a perfect copy of the key. "Question."

He snags it out of the air with his left hand without looking around, already reaching for the car door. We don't have authorisation to take the car anywhere, but he's already lowering himself into the driving seat and slotting the key into the ignition. For one moment I'm tempted to get into the car beside him, a residue of schematic patterns from before I could fly faster than light at will. Guy you're travelling with gets into a car, you get into the car as well, right?

Mr Sage closes the door and slowly accelerates. I remember from How To Succeed In Evil that driving up to a locked gate and accelerating in low gear is the best way to break it down. Fortunately, Hub City doesn't spend more on its impound gates than it does on anything else. A filament flicks out, unlocks the lock and opens the gate before Mr Sage can reach it.

He doesn't look at me or the gate, just accelerates and turns right when he reaches the road. Okay, this place isn't manned at night… I take a sheet of paper out of subspace, and… I don't have Justice League authority. I'm literally just stealing a car. Okay, accessory to Mr Sage stealing a car… Ah… 'Dear Madam/Sir, borrowing this car as part of an ongoing Justice League investigation, will return if reasonably practical. Yours sincerely, Orange Lantern.' I take an envelope out of subspace as well, put a fifty dollar note inside along with the letter because Hub City and deposit it on the front desk. Then I close the gate, lock it, and take off after Mr Sage.

He's driving… Erratically. Not that I know how he normally drives, but he's weaving-

A woman panics as he drives into the wrong lane ahead of her, and veers towards a wall for a moment before my construct catches the vehicle and deposits it in a nearby lay-by. Mr Sage comes to some sort of sense, getting back into the right lane and driving down… I think he's heading out of Hub City. He's just turned onto the main thoroughfare. Police… He just drove past a squad car and nothing appears to be happening. Oh, he's not speeding. They don't have any sort of car recognition device built into their vehicles. I think I've turned my cynicism up too far.

Empathic vision shows his mental focus as he manages to drive safely. I never actually watched John when he-. Okay, not safely, but he drove through that crossing in one piece and no one crashed. A few damaged brakes -I'll fix those- and he's still driving more or less regularly. I never actually watched John when he was riding the synchronicity wave. I've never seen what happens around him. Maybe this is why John doesn't drive, he just walks or gets a lift. I could ask Mr Chandler-? No, he'll be asleep now.

I send a message to the League and to the team. Just an update. I'm not really expecting to find anything other than an empty room with a few traces of temporary occupancy. That's been the pattern, after all. Still, it doesn't hurt to keep everyone up to date. Like my old manager used to say: any of us could be hit by a car tomorrow.

Mr Sage has left Hub City proper and is driving through what looks like it was some sort of suburban industrial estate. Most of the units are empty, but… He's stopping in a car park and turning off the engine. I transition downwards, appearing just in front of the car.

"Here?" He just stares for a moment, then opens the driver side door and gets out of the vehicle. "Question?"

"I can't hear it." He stares around in apparent confusion. "I can't hear it."

"Nice to know whoever it is has found a way to block you too. I was beginning to think I was being singled out. Shall we do this the old fashioned way?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:34 GMT -5

"Of course." He adjusts his coat, apparently unconsciously. "But the fact I can't hear it is significant."

"There are counter magics that can disrupt magic detection. I know a magician who can remotely cause any written or electronic records about him to spontaneously vanish."

"No, it's more than that. I can't hear anything here. If they had some way to disguise their trail I would still hear the echo of all of the other trails. The street here is dead."

Hm. There aren't enough 'street shamen' for there to be standard terminology, let alone good records of the state of the mystic systems of America's cities. "Is it.. similar to how you couldn't feel anything when you touched her?"

"No." He hesitates. "Perhaps. In the morgue I could hear the sound of the city, you, a little from the other bodies. Here, it's as if the city has stopped existing."

"Are you aware of anything which could cause that sort of phenomenon?"

"New or heavily redeveloped streets are sometimes quiet. Not quite part of the city yet. This is new."

"Can you guess what could cause it?"

He takes a last look around and then heads towards the closest industrial unit. "A better magician than me."

I float after him. "A slightly better magician than you, or a really strong magician?"

"I don't know." He looks at the door, then reaches into his coat pocket.

"Allow me." I attach a filament to the mechanical code lock and open it. "Question, I don't know your style at all. I don't know what's possible with it, or how hard it is, or what level of experience it requires. If you were trying to do this, could you?"

"No." He hangs back slightly as the door opens and I attach a filament to the burglar alarm, then pulls a small torch out of one of his pockets and strides forward. "All I can do is listen. The teachers in Nanda Parbat said that someone at one with their surroundings could do other, more dramatic things. But I had a job to go back to."

This company describes itself as a building supplies warehouse. As we walk through the empty building I send filaments out in all directions. Nothing that shouldn't be here as yet. Pallets of wood, cement, brick…

"And I imagine that killing the spirit of a place is fairly antithetical to what Nanda Parbat is about."

"Quite." He accelerates, moving quickly along the main walkways in the warehouse area. "This appears to be in order."

I nod. "Offices next."

Not much in the way of offices here. I suspect that most of the business is somewhere more central and this is just a pickup and drop off point. Ring? Ah, yes, there's an office towards the centre of the city, in a subsidised redevelopment zone. It wouldn't be practical to have large lorries drive in that area.

"If a thief dies in the commissioning of their theft, then they've brought it on themselves." Mr Sage checks the desks while I scan the server. Nothing relating to this case, though I'll make the results available to him in case there's anything else suspicious about the company. "However, if their minds have been altered they cannot be considered morally culpable. I assume that the Justice League does not have a secret pro lethal force policy."

"You assume correctly."

We head back towards the door, Mr Sage turning off his torch before we reach it. "You stated that the thieves died in all previous encounters. Do you have a plan for keeping this one alive?"

"Neither physical restraint nor telepathic suppression are sufficient. None of the magic users present said that they felt anything when thieves at the other locations died. Autopsies didn't show any kind of implant. I'm coming up short on things it could be. I have a purple healing ray, and I can use constructs to interface with every part of his body… But I can't guarantee either of those will work because I don't understand what's killing them."

He takes a quick look around the exterior before motioning me to follow him. Next unit, this one allegedly empty.

"The safest technique would simply be to monitor them rather than intervening directly."

"Unless we can get a lead on whoever's doing this, and that enables us to prevent it happening to anyone else. And since we really don't know what's going on or why a bunch of worthless statues are being stolen… We've got no way to make an informed decision."

The lock on this door is broken. I switch from 'investigation' armour to 'combat but in reasonably narrow corridors' armour and lead the way inside.

"You favour intervention."

"Yes, but I know that's not necessarily correct."

"How many dead so far?"

"Eleven that we know about. Six from the original investigation, five including Ms Sugden who turned up in various morgues with the same mortal injury. The original thefts only came to our attention by chance and the original briefing was to capture a mundane criminal gang." Dust, cobwebs, some damp… I lead the way deeper into the building. "I suspect that Batman would want us to hang back and observe. Attempt to follow them back to a controller."

We start checking abandoned rooms. This used to be a courier office. Now it's just dead.

"A sound idea. You still believe it would be better to intervene."

"In the unlikely event that we can approach one of these people undetected, I'm happy to hold off. But I would remind you, we don't know what the trigger is. If it does go off, the first I'm going to know about it is the target falling over with parts of their brain turned to mush."

"Difficult."

I take the offices while he goes through what used to be the sorting room. No sign of recent occupancy. A few discarded folders with mouldering paper work. Whoever stuck around to clear the office out did a reasonably thorough job-.

I hear the faint rumble of a car engine. Immediately I turn my environmental shield down to the minimum and I see Mr Sage's torch go out. Ugh. Did I miss some sort of alarm? We didn't conceal the car, but I doubt that Hub City police would follow up on us taking it quite this quickly. If it's something to do with the theft, would they recognise it? Can I risk scanning?

Mr Sage carefully picks his way across the office. He's got some sort of light amplification glasses on, but I've used those things and they're not the easiest to navigate with. "Who is it?"

"Power ring scans are detectable."

"Mm." He gets a… That's a periscope, out of his pocket and heads for a window. Taking care to keep out of sight himself, he removes his glasses, puts one end to his right eye and the other onto the glass.

I doubt that he can see much. There aren't any artificial lights out there, and that periscope doesn't appear to have any enhancements. I could take an infrared sensor out of subspace, but subspace evacuations are even easier to detect than ring scans.

"One figure. Humanoid. No apparent weapons. Heading for a disused unit on the opposite side. Knows where they're going."

"Did they see the car?"

"Can't tell. Also can't tell if there is anyone else inside their car." He pauses, then steps back from the window. "They're inside."

I'd prefer to intervene, but I'm trying to get back in with the team…

"I'll check their car, bug it if it's suspicious, then we'll monitor them from here."

He nods, then turns back to the window.

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:40 GMT -5

I remember the film 'Ghost Dog'. There was a quote… I don't remember where it was from originally. Ring? Ah, Hagakure. And apparently the line in Ghost Dog 16 is 'In the words of the ancients, one should make his decision within the space of seven breaths. It is a matter of being determined and having the spirit to break through to the other side.'

I'm not a wannabe samurai. I'm an Orange Lantern, but that entails that I do what I want to alter the universe to be more like I want it to be. It is a way which encourages introspection, but only outside combat. Mr Sage is watching someone through a periscope, a passive action which contains a minimal risk of discovery. And I'm not scanning with my super advanced xenotechnological hyper-tool because they might be able to detect that.

I carefully pull both rings from my fingers, then manually trigger my armour's phasing system to drop through the floor.

Irritating thing about encountering an ability I don't even begin to understand is that I don't know what else I don't understand that the user can do. If the person out there is something to do with this and not just picking up their house keys then they might have detected my phasing and killed the man we're trying to recover. Or they might have installed some sort of sensor in all of these buildings and know we're here already. Or they might have had some disenchanted Kobra Bestowed muck around with local magic, take a payoff and leave them to their own devices.

I don't know, and I don't know what it is that I don't know.

I drift through the ground in the direction of the car. One of the systems that got cut back to make this armour was the flight system: it's there, but it's not what you'd call fast. Now, how to approach this? I saw the direction in which the figure went, and I can easily keep the car between myself and that building. In addition to being invisible. Does it matter-? Agh! Annoying!

I drift up through the ground, the underside of the car suddenly being right there as my head pierces the asphalt. Drift up a little further, careful-. Someone ins-! No. Some body, tied to the passenger seat by the cord around their neck. Body still somewhat warm. Recent, then.

Not here for their house keys.

In most cities I'd inform the local police at once. In Hub… I think I'll leave it until we're done here. Without using a light or the ring I can't get a good view of their face… Given their approximate dimensions, there are any number of people on Hub City's missing persons list it could be. But the great thing about being dead is that your condition is unlikely to deteriorate.

I move around to the front of the car. This number plate hadn't been reported as stolen an hour ago, but if the owner was murdered when it was taken there's no reason to believe that it would have been.

I sigh. Nothing.

Okay, check the angle… Phase in, attach a tracking device to… The underside of the wheel arch. Tap twice to activate the molecular bonder, hold for a second… Done. It won't let us track the car, because if we can track it then so can anyone else with the right gear. Instead, it will respond to a particular sort of energy wave and give us its location when we choose to look for it. Safer, but less useful.

No point attaching a second. If they can find one, they can find two. If they can't find one, adding a second just increases the chance they'll find either of them. But… What now?

Were I a less enlightened Orange Lantern, I'd either be charging in or having some sort of episode trying to hold myself back. As it is, I'm… Confounded. There is no way for me to know the course of action most likely to keep the last thief alive. Assuming that was him. Assuming that he's in there. I would let him die if that was what it took to locate the ultimate perpetrator, but there's no guarantee that would work. Another body gets me no more information than I already have.

Tracking device on. The options are fall back and wait, or advance. And it's my decision. Yes, I could pass it on to Kaldur or Batman. I'd need to leave the area to do so, and there's the risk of detection… But any form of monitoring risks detection. And I'm well aware that I'm already verging on paranoia now, but… If they couldn't detect observation, what are the chances they could stop me? Heck, motivated like this I could simulate the parts of the brain that were collapsing as they collapsed and replace them when the effect ended. So: intervening it is.

Do I get extra help? I could retreat and call in… Who? Doctor Balewa and Angelica both have skills which I lack, but neither have specific knowledge of this case. And from the description in the team's reports, death happens quickly once the process begins. Something that matches my examination of the injury. John Fate might be similarly useful… Really, the time to call him in was when Mr Sage started driving, except there was no way to know this would actually lead to a contact and I'm sure that he's a very busy man.

Alright then. I'm going in, but I'm not going to rush things. I walk around the car-.

There's a note in the driver side window. Couldn't see it from the other side, but in the starlight I can just about make out the orange sigil drawn on it. Settles that question. I take a half-step away from the car and slide my rings back on, keeping my environmental shield to minimum. Immediately I regain the ability to see my surroundings. The person inside… Male, black, business-casual dress. As far as I can see the envelope is just paper. I can't see any poisons, electronics or arcane sigils.

Ring, scan the writing.

Compliance.

'To the Acolyte of Greed'

Close enough.

'What you seek is inside, and will be offered to you freely if you have the wit to take it. Come without fear.'

Lure or genuine offer?

Again, an imponderable. My presence in Hub City isn't a secret, but I can't know if they just put this here on the off-chance or if they actually know I'm here. Does luring me in actually get them anything? The sort of weapons that would be needed to successfully ambush me don't really care about precise relative locations. At most, it would buy them a fraction of a second. And it may be pride talking, but I'm increasingly dubious about my own worst imaginings.

Okay, going in. I raise my left hand towards Mr Sage's window and send 'going in' in Morse code ring flashes. Then I phase and drift towards the unit the car driver headed into. Not the front door, obviously. Assuming that the units were built according to a standard design I can go through the wall here and enter the neighbouring unit. Empty of anything concerning. I drift further in, heading towards the back of the building. Turn up empathic vision a little… Two people, both shot through with… Veins of black? One is otherwise fairly normal, while the colours in the other are translucent. Barely there at all. Something weird is going on, but frankly I've seen worse. And since they're not reacting I can assume they can't feel this.

Excellent.

Phased and invisible, I float through the wall behind them. The main lights are off, but there's a window letting in starlight and I can just about make their faces out. Karl Wilson, thirty seven, from Nebraska. Pale skin, orange hair and moustache, faint colours and not wearing any sort of concealing gear. Like the others, no significant criminal record. Almost certainly the thief. The other person is a bald mixed race woman with many scars and a number of facial piercings which would shock me if I hadn't met Raquel. I don't recognise her face. She's dressed in baggy trousers and a tube top, but it looks like it's a sports bra type thing rather than a normal garment. Something for exercising in. The other distinguishing items of clothing are the bandages wrapped around her forearms.

She… Reminds me of something. I'm not sure what. I've read so many comics -and League intelligence files- that… Well, they don't blur together, but there's a lot of very similar looking distinct things in my memory. Nothing about her triggers one specifically.

Oh well. I'll ask in a minute, when she'll want to give answers as much as I want to hear them. I could phase in and brand them both, but the displaced air might clue them in that I was there fast enough to trigger the suicide effect. Another approach. Record her face.

Compliance.

I float back through the wall, phase in, then send a filament underground in the direction of Mr Wilson. Tagging his foot is fine… Physically healthy. Nothing odd in his blood or bone or muscles… Or peripheral nervous system.

That black. Not as all-encompassing as Dark Druid, not as controlled as Ms Sackville. I could paralyse the woman right now, but… They both have the black. Could be sympathetic, magic or thought-activated… No, I need to purge them both at the same time.

Ring, filament to her as well, then brand.

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:44 GMT -5

Branding in progress. No resistance from unknown woman. Branding of unknown woman complete.

And Mr Wilson?

E-error error ERROR.

Make her want to help me.

Compliance. Alert! Unknown woman already wishes to help you. However, her concept of 'help' is significantly divergent from yours. Concept amended.

Thank you. Dare I ask exactly how she was planning to 'help' me?

Cult indoctrination.

Nothing serious, then. And what's that 'error' stuff?

error.

Yes, I got that. Explain the cause of the error message.

Unable to comply. If cause was know-.

You would have stated it, yes. Is there anything about him other than that black stuff that stands out as unusual?

No.

Are you able to preserve the structure of his brain?

No special impediment detected. However,-.

You can't tell what's going on, so can't be certain. Fine. Construct bio-regulator sarcophagus. Muffle sound, then use construct blades and cut through this wall.

Compliance.

Buzz saw constructs make short work of the plasterboard and corrugated steel. Another construct grabs the doorway-sized portion as it comes free and leans it up against an adjacent wall. The revealed room is illuminated by the glow of my constructs and the glowing sigil on the unknown woman's forehead as she stares beatifically at me. I didn't pay attention to it during my first look, but the stolen statue is standing in the centre of the room and…

Someone's covered it in blood.

"Good evening." I walk into the room. Full scan, please.

No further anomalies detected.

The orange sigil is struggling to form on Mr Wilson's forehead. For a moment it's complete, then it shimmers and flickers and vanishes again. Decidedly odd.

"Would you be so good as to-" And she's kneeling in supplication. "-tell me what's going on?"

"I was awaiting your arrival. Now, I wait at your pleasure."

"What have you done to Mr Wilson's brain?"

"Nothing, O Acolyte of Greed. Our Master speaks, and the dissolute who hear his words become like that."

"And those who are not dissolute?"

"We hear His truth, and are moved to serve Him."

"And how exactly are these thefts serving him?"

She raises her head slightly. "What reason would you have?"

What is she-? Oh. I nod. "Because I want it. No greater or lesser reason than that." I look at the sarcophagus holding Mr Wilson. "And if you've burned out a man's soul anyway, you may as well use him for something."

Her head dips again. "You grasp the lessons readily, Acolyte."

"Who is your master?"

"Our Master Is."

That's tremendously helpful. "Does he have a name?"

"Our Master transcends labels, rather it is we who bear labels to distinguish us from him."

"Did he..? Used to have a label I might have heard of?"

"If so, I do not know it."

"Do you know where he is at the moment?"

"No."

"Do you have a way of communicating with him?"

"His spirit moves through us. We are His hands as He is our will."

So, magic. Area effect compulsion? They feel a slight nudge to do something, not overwhelming, but enough to recognise it as him. Reasonably clever. "Why do they die?"

"Loyal in life, loyal in death."

That doesn't really… No, she's a cultist, I doubt that she's been told exactly how her master's mind control works. "How did you know I was here?"

"Your arrival was recorded on a superhero fansite. This-" She glances at Mr Wilson. "-dissolute one noted that you attended the morgue. Since your friends amongst the Justice League's sidekicks are investigating the thefts, it seemed likely enough that you would come here for me to attend in person."

"Have you been ordered to meet me?"

"No. I did it because I wanted to."

"And what did I do to deserve that honour?"

"You mastered Cain's lessons without instruction!" She's smiling, and her expression is making me uncomfortable. "Cain himself required the example of Har-Mammon to comprehend the power of greed."

Cain. Religion. Oh.

"The Dark Faith. Cain went to Har-Mammon, and the city's ruler tried to bribe him to go away. The more he gave, the more Cain wanted the rest where before he would have been happy with… What was it?"

"Water."

"But now he'd had a taste of the rest, he wanted it all." I bow my head slightly. "That parable stuck with me. Which means that you're a member of the Order of the Stone."

"You know it? You've..? Been inducted?"

"That depends what you mean." What were the lessons again? "I've deceived people who trusted me, killed people I didn't need to, stolen things that it was convenient for me to have and taught others what I've learned. All for the greater good."

"And lust?"

"Never really been a big part of my character, but my girlfriend has no complaints."

A few, actually, though not about that so long as I'm not using the rings. Hm, maybe I should consult with her about this? She's got more experience of personality cults than I do.

"You have learned much, Acolyte. But Cain teaches us to indulge at will, not control."

Alert! Neurological decay occurring!

"And it seems that the Master wants you to receive another lesson."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:48 GMT -5

"Oh yes?" Ring, construct neurons. And assimilate the black. "And what would that be?"

Att-error. At-at-attempting to comply.

"Superheroes tend to risk themselves to help worthless people, and berate themselves when they fail. None of my order would do so. This dissolute one is here to show us what you do."

My construct neurons are flickering and failing just as fast as the brand is. I'm restoring them just as quickly, but this isn't a viable strategy. Replacing the tissue is just resulting in the new tissue being destroyed as well. "I'm not sure I understand why it matters."

Black isn't death per se. I've seen any number of dead and dying people without the tiniest hint of black in them. It's more… A longing for nullity, or drawing on power that feels similar enough. So what I'm looking at is an implanted desire for death. But while doing that to a person might result in risk taking behaviour or suicide it doesn't usually result in living cells dying of their own accord.

"Cain's lessons are for all who have the wit to hear them." She stands, drawing a knife. "I was supposed to attempt to put out one of your eyes as Cain did unto the Caitiff, but I don't think I need to now."

Hooray for mind control. My mind control.

"I've been blind before. It didn't stick."

Okay, synthetic neurology. Not really true cybernetics, just novel chemical structures. No, lasts a fraction of a second longer but gets destroyed as well. Ring, rate of power consumption?

Approximately point eight percent per second.

No rush, then.

Total charge will be consumed in approximately two minutes.

Yes, I-. Never mind.

All three significant examples of black I've seen so far are magic based. Let's try that. I take a mage slayer round out of subspace and have the construct sarcophagus press it against Mr Wilson's head. No effect. Either not magic, or the round would need to be touching the location the spell is bound to. Opening up his skull seems like a bad idea.

My rings had a bit of an episode when I tried assimilating the black. It's not as if I want the black for itself; becoming a Host of Nekron sounds like a very bad idea. What else, what else…

His other colours are faint. I should be able to imbue him with orange light. That might-. That almost certainly will cause problems in its own right. And it might cause the black light to lose its connection. Mr Wilson… The missing person file mentioned that he went bowling..? Ugh, no, too specific. Can I manage generic desires? Maslow level one.

Food. Yes, his digestive system is running on empty. I suppose that whoever… Wait, that… Thing, they were going to sacrifice Batwoman… Bruno Mannheim. Bruno Mannheim 16 is a minor crime boss… No recent records, and no history of cannibalism. Still, it's a lead.

Neural structure decay reaching-.

Right right sorry. Food. Hunger. The basic desire to eat. The empty feeling soon to be sated. The satisfying crunch, the warmth, the sudden alertness of a burst of sugar. The calm relaxation, the smell.

Water. Dry patched tacky mouth cleared out and cool and damp. Sweat and dirt and stress wiped off and sent down the drain. Warmth. Life returning to your extremities on a cold day, the play of sunlight on your skin on a clear day. Rest. Come on, I can feel how tired your body is. The lack of focus as you relax and everything fades away.

Ring, progress?

Black light infection still present.

Next level it is, then. Know that you are next to a superhero who has your wellbeing foremost in his mind, and who will be escorting you to a very secure location when this is over. Walls all around, and competent personnel to guard you when you sleep.

Progress?

There is no measurable decrease in the extent of black light infection.

Alright. Um, since Mannheim or whoever's doing this clearly knows that I'm here: ring, message Alan and ask him to come to my current location at best possible speed. Include my location.

Compliance.

Infusing him with my desires hasn't worked. Imbuing him with desire externally doesn't appear to work. What do I do what do I do?

That…

I take Larfleeze's ring off my right ring finger, reach into the sarcophagus and put it on his left middle finger. Cease branding efforts.

Compliance.

The ring fizzles and crackles on his finger as it attempts to make a connection. What else, what else..? My tattoos. They are designed to hold and channel energy into me. I create constructs in their image on Mr Wilson's skin. And… She said that he heard her master's voice.

Inducing short term memory loss in humans is relatively easy. Harming long term memory is… Not. Even for a telepath, they'd usually have to wipe everything and start from scratch to remove the chance of things coming back. That or renew the effect every so often. Short term memory suppression is possible, though most methods involve turning off conscious thought.

Minor innate orange light resonance detected.

Progress! I'm only using enough orange light to drive most people insane-. Actually… Ring, if the black light infection vanishes, cancel all of my efforts at once.

Compliance.

Ah… Okay, if I'm working on the assumption that my desires -even the fairly common parts- can't embed because there's nothing to embed in… The Honden. There… Should be an imprint of every desire he's had there… And… I'm down one Ophidian and I can't risk withholding my constructs for a moment. But… My ring and his ring both have connections to the Central Power Battery. Could that work? Well, it worked when the Ophidian was with Larfleeze…

I take my personal lantern out of subspace, and touch it with my left hand.

Ophidian.

No, nothing. Alright, she's got a whole Corps to listen to now and I don't want to save this one man anything like as much as I wanted to prevent the rest of my friends being killed…

"Will his death hurt you?"

"No, not really. I don't even know-" That he's on his second marriage, two children from the first and one from the second, has good relations with them and.. never needed court orders to oversee his relationship with his ex-wife, at least. That his employer considers him reliable and gave a glowing account of his character to the police when questioned. That he's got a couple of parking tickets on his police record but paid them both promptly, and one fine for smoking marijuana when he was nineteen. "-him."

I'm not denying he's a person. He's just not my person.

"Then why are you trying to fix him?"

"I want the world to work in a certain way. People who are productive members of my society being turned into someone else's instruments is contrary to that. Not because it is injurious to them -plenty of things injure people whom I don't care about as individuals- but because it's a frustrating distraction. It means I've got more work to do to fix things. Like this! Have you got any idea how much work I could be doing now if I wasn't saving one guy?"

"Then why do you?"

"Would Cain have let Har-Mammon retain its independence? You can't put something like this in front of me and expect me to walk-" There's a sudden flare of blue light from the exterior door. "-away. BLUE LANTERN, IN HERE!"

The woman starts, her eyes widening as she turns to the door. "He must-!" Then she reorientates on me. "Purpose=Failure."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:50 GMT -5

I frown. "No it doesn't. BL-!"

Alan comes in through the door, plate armour style blue construct armour around him. Lantern Stewart and I barely had to spend any time beating that habit into him at all. "What have you got?"

"Karl Wilson. He's been mind controlled, and his controller is trying to make his brain collapse. His emotional resonance is almost nonexistent. I've been trying to infuse him with orange light with partial success, but it's not enough. He needs your help."

He nods. "Of course. Ah… How?"

"See the symbols I've put around his body? Copy those. And.. try and.. project things that make you hopeful into-." I put a construct manacle around the woman's arm as she lunges for me, the sigil on her forehead now glitching in the same way Mr Wilson's was. "Into him."

"Alright." He raises his right hand, blue cables extending from his ring and attaching themselves to Mr Wilson. "What's her story?"

"She's a member of the Order of Stone. Evil worshipping warrior monks." She swings up her right leg, kicking at my head. I catch her ankle in another construct manacle and then float her back against the far wall. "And-. Actually." I put a construct muzzle on her. "She's got the same thing he has, but it doesn't seem to be affecting her in the same way."

Alan squints slightly. He still doesn't find fine detail as easy as I do, but blue lines in the pattern already traced by my construct begin moving across Mr Wilson's skin. "I.. think I can feel what you're talking about. What is that?"

"Not sure, but it doesn't look too healthy. Any joy?"

"Black light infection fading, Orange Lantern. Mister Wilson will be restored shortly."

"Blue Lantern?"

"She's been getting more talkative the longer I wear her. Should I be worried?"

"Not unless she turns yellow. Fear isn't useful without a yellow ring."

"Alright then."

The blue ring's right. I can see the black lines fading slightly. Maybe if we had other colours to go with it we could go faster? Seems logical, but I don't particularly feel like having a tête-à-tête with Sinestro, so… That can wait. I reach into the sarcophagus and recover my ring, because I don't think dealing with that should be the first thing Mr Wilson has to do when he awakens.

Rings, total charge remaining?

Fifty four percent.

Drat.

"This isn't a viable long term solution."

"Seems to be working fine to me."

"One Blue Lantern in existence. Two Orange Lanterns on Earth, one of whom has agreed not to use his ring until his trial date. Between zero and four Green Lanterns. Orange Lanterns don't come more powerful than me, and I couldn't purge him on my own. That means we need to grab… Green Lantern A is on Earth at the moment, right?"

"I haven't spoken to him since our last training session."

"Even if three of us makes it faster, that means it takes three Lanterns to fix. Per person. We need a better solution-" The last black strands evaporate, and the colours behind them surge-.

I step back, cancelling my infusion constructs. Alan glances my way.

"That it done?"

"Hope's a little less… Dangerous than avarice. Give him a moment or two."

Ring, is his brain still collapsing?

Decay has ceased.

Restore his brain to its original organic state. I'm.. not exactly sure what happens to a human who has not-exactly-organic parts to their brain for a prolonged period, but I don't have any reason to find out.

Compliance.

Mr Wilson's eyes snap open. "Uuuuuuumgh?"

I transform the sarcophagus into a camping bed and set it down on the floor. "Okay, Blue Lantern, that should do."

Alan withdraws his hand, his construct fading. "How are you doing, sir?"

"Uh?" He shudders. "Like-. Like everything I've ever tried has been a total failure. Oh God."

"Sir, do you remember your name?"

"Um. Karl. Karl Wilson."

"Do you know where you are?"

"Aaaah…" He looks around, spotting the woman attached to the wall. "Wh-?"

"Mister Wilson, please try to focus. I appreciate that you've been through a trying time, but I need to assess your mental state."

"Right, right, sorry. No." He shakes his head. "No, I don't. I don't… I don't remember…"

"Don't worry, sir. That's probably for the best."

"Oh. Oh God, what did I do?"

"That we know about, one act of petty theft. I-."

Alan puts his right hand on my chest. I stop talking. "Which wasn't your fault, and neither was anything else you did while you were being controlled."

Mr Wilson looks stunned for a moment. "Ah. Yeah. Of course not."

"Now, I realise that you've been through a traumatic experience, but when you've had a chance to-."

He smiles. "Actually, I feel pretty good right now. If you want to ask me any questions, you can go right ahead."

I glance at Alan for a moment. "Thank you, Mister Wilson, but I think we should probably wait until you're in a police station." He nods cheerfully. "Blue Lantern, if you'd be so good as to escort him outside?" Alan offers Mr Wilson a hand up. He takes it, and they walk out of the room. I dismiss the bed construct and turn back to the woman. "And now you. What exact-?"

Ah. Darn.

I lift her body off the wall, pick up the statue and follow Alan out of the building.

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th November
09:21 GMT -5

Batman nods. "And the statue?"

"Since.. I couldn't prove that it was stolen property, I returned it to Mister Hatch. He was sarcastically grateful." From his expression, I think that Batman is well aware of Mr Hatch's business practices. "On that subject, sir, if you wish to pursue Mister Hatch, I would be perfectly happy to sub in for you in Gotham while you carried out a comprehensive investigation."

"That's irrelevant at present. Do you believe that the monk you encountered was behind the thefts?"

I shake my head. "Now I know who to look for I can start going through CCTV records, but I rather doubt it. I don't know whether she was the source or if her 'master' was making personal visits… Heck, since we still don't really know what the black stuff I was seeing was, I don't know whether or not it's something all members of the Order of the Stone can induce."

"Where did you first hear about the Order?"

And this is why it's important to take the time to cover yourself in advance of talking to the World's Greatest Detective. Especially if you're known to have a perfect memory. "They were mentioned in the League of Shadows' database, and again in various police reports passed to the Justice League. The same with some parts of their philosophy. I have a.. particular interest in alternate moral systems." I sigh. "Unfortunately, theirs is rather stupid."

"Purpose equals failure."

"It doesn't mean anything to me. I mean, on one level, yes, if you're not trying to do anything then you can't fail to achieve it. I'm just not sure why she said it to me like that."

"Was anyone else close enough to hear when she did?"

"Mister Wilson, but otherwise no. The Question was still in the building opposite and Alan hadn't arrived yet."

Batman bows his head slightly. "How reliable is the Question?"

"He's been working in Hub City for years. He's had appreciable success against the city's criminals, and has a number of scars which would have come from life threatening injuries. Empathic vision shows that he's genuinely committed."

"And his allegedly magical abilities?"

I shrug. "Plausible. It didn't make my rune stone glow, but since he's claiming to be using a form of psychometry that's not too surprising. It's something Nanda Parbat could probably teach someone who knew nothing about magic within the available timeframe. You'd need to have an actual magician speak to him to draw a firm conclusion."

He nods, then turns and walks away from the table to look down through the armoured glass into the examination area where Dr Balewa is studying the woman's corpse. I fall in just behind him. Mr Wilson was examined first of course, but they couldn't find any trace of whatever it was which caused the black light I saw. Dr Balewa was able to confirm that a part of Hub City has been gutted of arcane energies, but… He could also list several entities that could have done it and couldn't come up with any idea why they would have felt the need to.

Doctor Balewa is currently painting lines on the woman's naked corpse. Something to aid him in measuring particular flavours of arcane energy, I assume. It looks a little like what I've got-.

"Would the person who made Blue Lantern's ring be prepared to make any more?"

"I don't know. I'd imagine that he'd charge quite a lot, and I don't have another candidate."

"Hope isn't that rare."

"You're welcome to ask him. I'd.. suggest having Lantern Stewart and I have a crack at the next one. Or myself and Zatanna. I still don't know exactly what it was that finally broke its hold."

Below us, Dr Balewa raises his hands, closes his eyes and starts chanting.

"You would recognise it if you saw it again."

"Yes. I'd never seen anything quite like it. Even in those.. few people who have appreciable amounts of black in them anyway."

"We don't know how many there are or where they are. We don't know if there's an upper limit on the number there can be. We have no way to stop it, and we can only undo it by having Lanterns present before the suicide effect takes place."

Dr Balewa frowns as he concentrates.

"The other statues?"

"There were no traces of magic on them, or any exotic phenomena we could detect. They've been returned to their owners."

"Geh." The tips of Dr Balewa's fingers smoke and smoulder as he staggers away from the examination table!

Batman leans forward and presses the intercom. "Doctor Mist, report!"

Dr Balewa angrily shakes his hands, the smoke dispersing. "A minor side effect, Batman. I am afraid that I must confirm the Question's assessment. The woman's body is completely devoid of arcane influences. I cannot feel any part of her soul, or her life."

"Was her soul stolen or destroyed?"

"No." Below us, his body… Simplifies, colours merging and textures smoothing-. He vanishes, then reappears in the room with us. Batman and I turn to face him. "The magic involved in such a thing would leave its own mark, both upon her and upon her surroundings. There is nothing. It is not merely her soul that is missing, but every other arcane influence which I should be able to feel."

"Was her soul..? Nullified? Or have they just wiped her body clean?"

"If I am to seek out her soul in the hereafter, I will need more information on the practices of her Order."

"They regard morality and restraint as weakness, and learn to channel their desire for vice into a drive to act. I don't know what they believe as far as afterlives are concerned."

"What spirits do they worship?"

"A re-imagining of the biblical figure of Cain. Instead of being punished by Jehovah and leaving to found the first city, he wanders around the ancient world, steadily learning more and more about how to empower himself and control others with their cardinal vices: deceit, greed, lust and murder. I've no idea what they think happens to their souls. I don't even know if they believe in souls."

"Are they a large Order?"

"The League of Shadows didn't think so. I don't know."

"Doctor Mist." We both look at Batman, who is looking thoughtful. "Could the arcane presence you are looking for be hidden in a way that would make it impossible for you to find it?"

"No." He considers for a moment. "There are ways in which they could blur specific details, but that there was something there? No."

"How can you be certain? There are other ancient magicians-."

"And they are all younger than me, but that is beside the point." He looks at me for a moment, then gives a slight nod. "In… My early life, before…" He looks at his robes. "Before this. I had been a minor magician for a long time, and I wished to… I had been born a slave, and though I had risen far I still wished to know if there was more to life than I had experienced. So, I passed my authority on to my eldest son, set a great wooden pillar at the most powerful geomantic site known to me and sat upon it. I meditated, my spirit drifting free from my body, for… I do not know how long. I… Saw so much, all of the magics of the Earth, peoples I had never seen in the flesh, lands I had never walked upon. And as my body died… Just for a moment-". He smiles at the memory. "-I saw something beautiful." He shakes his head. "Batman, I have seen life's purpose, and now it is my owen. That." He points to the window. "That is not life. That is…"

He shakes his head.

Ah. I can't say I'm entirely surprised.

"Anti-Life. It's Anti-Life."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Rampage

5th November
15:47 GMT +1

"Mister Grayven?" I look up as the Danish civil servant who fielded my request to speak to the Prime Minister as soon as possible appears from a nearby office. "Mister Lykketoft will see you now."

Mother Box.

Ping.

Boom!

"Ah-?"

I stride through the boom tube into Prime Minister Lykketoft's office. "Sorry to barge in like this, Mister Prime Minister, but it's actually extremely urgent."

"Not at all, Mister Grayven." He stands and offers me his right hand, which I shake somewhat urgently. "I'd offer you a chair, but…"

I shake my head, brushing the matter off. "Not a problem, I'm used to it."

He smiles, sitting back down. "Are you here to purge the Danish political establishment? I'm sure there are one or two people we could afford to lose."

"No sir. While I can't speak for the ability of your political establishment, in terms of probity you're doing quite well. I'm here because I've recently discovered that the National Museum of Denmark has in its collection three extremely dangerous magic artefacts, and I would very much appreciate it if you could arrange for them to be moved to somewhere a little more secure." I am completely serious.

"What… Ah… What artefacts are those?"

"A group of three necklaces with red beryl pendants dated as coming from the tenth century. They don't." I am authoritative.

"Are they older?"

"Almost certainly, but that's not the problem. Earlier this year a magic portal from a parallel universe opened briefly in Philadelphia, and a single individual from the other side came through. She's been working for me since, and…" Urgh. "I'm embarrassed about it now, but it only just occurred to us to look for people or artefacts which might have come through the portal previously." This is an immediate concern.

"And that is what we have?"

"So she tells me. All I can feel myself is that they are enchanted in some way, but she spent some time reading up on powerful arcane artefacts before she came through, and they match the description of a group of gems used by a trio of kelpies one of their historical heroes fought and 'banished'."

He nods. "And what do they do?"

"When active, they cause everyone in their immediate vicinity to become both aggressive and unusually receptive to the orders of the ones holding them. The more people they affect, the strong the effect gets, until… Everyone zombifies, in the original Vodun sense of having part of their soul removed. And then giant fish demons appear, and…" I shake my head. "It would be really bad and you've got them in a glass cabinet." Your preparations are inadequate.

He nods, a little stunned. "That sounds like something we should move."

"I'm glad you agree. Now, obviously I wouldn't presume to tell you where to put them. You have facilities?"

"Well… Ah, we have a high security metahuman prison-."

"I'm going to stop you right there. Does putting soul-sucking necklaces next to career criminals sound like a sensible plan to you?"

"I… Suppose not. Would a.. bank vault work?"

"Do you have a bank vault designed to resist magic-based attack? Because any magic user worth their salt will be able to feel these things."

"Is destroying them an option?"

I shake my head. "I asked, and, ah..? Short version? Uncontrolled magic discharges are very bad." Obviously.

He nods. "Do you have a suggestion?"

"Atlantis has facilities for handling artefacts like this. The Justice League could probably find somewhere reasonably secure to keep it contained." I shrug. "Giovanni Zatara lives in a house with all sorts of protective enchantment upon it. Either could work safely."

"And you? This.. expert you have? Does she know how to contain it?"

I nod. "Yes, but according to her, containing them isn't hard. You just.. don't put them on. The challenge is keeping other people away from them. My home is -obviously- highly protected with Apokoliptian technology, Atlantean magic and a species of telepathic warrior drones. And Sunset -that's her name, Sunset Shimmer- thinks that if she can study them in more detail it will become easier for her to trace any other objects that might have come through."

"Other objects?"

"As far as Sunset remembers, the one who created the mirror habitually sent dangerous objects through. We're only just starting to study how the magics of her home parallel interact with Earthly magics… Well, I don't think we have to worry about portals from there becoming a frequent occurrence, but I'd like to be able to tell you that for certain."

5th November
10:23 GMT -6

The boom tube collapses behind me as I drop the three crystals onto Sunset's work bench. She stares at them and then at me in surprise. "They gave them to you that quickly?"

"Emergency powers are for emergencies. The Danish government has authorised us to securely store them pro tem. We don't own them, so don't destroy them."

She walks over to take a closer look. "I wonder what happened to their owners?"

"According to the curator, Prince Haraldson was reputed to have killed a great many monsters before his disappearance. There was no specific mention of any kelpies, but if I had to guess…"

She frowns as she picks one of the amulets up, and I hear a faint… Music..?

"Hm." She puts it down again. "The bound spells are definitely still active. I think I'd better put a ward around them until I'm ready to start experimenting."

"You don't feel like going on a mind controlling rampage?"

"I don't want other people's power. I want to increase my power. I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"Ahhhha…?"

"No! Really!" She holds my gaze for a moment, then looks away. "Okay, maybe I… Thought about... Bucking Celestia in the face with alicorn-level earth pony strength once or twice, but I don't want to take her power. Someone's got to raise the sun."

"You don't want to do that?" I raise my eyebrows slightly. "I.. couldn't help but notice that your insignia is also a sun."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I automatically know how to raise it."

"Don't I.. seem to remember something about it originally being-."

"Moved by a team of unicorns." She rolls her eyes as she starts drawing designs for the containment ward on her workshop's CAD program. "I don't put a lot of faith in Hearth's Warming stories."

"I was thinking that if it used to happen and it doesn't any more, that's a massive failure in contingency planning. One sniper gets a lucky shot at Celestia and the planet no longer has a sun." Sunset looks up, frowning. "Really, they should have a team trained up and practising regularly just in case."

"Huh." Her eyes move away for a moment. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I should be glad that it's not just me Celestia's bad at sharing with."

"So what does your insignia represent?"

Circles appear on her screen. "Right now? Nothing. I'm not a pony. I don't even have a cutie mark any more."

"Sun-."

She rolls her eyes. "Learning and using magic. And I guess it's a sun because everypony knows that the greatest and most powerful magic user in the world is Celestia. So after I've become an alicorn I'm going to see if I can trade it in or something, because I don't want a memento of her on my haunches forever."

"Maybe… You should think about it as… You've got one sun per side, right? Maybe it's about finding your own sky to shine in. You know? Two suns would burn the world, but one each-."

"That's not how it works." She looks over at the necklaces, and then back to me. "But… Thanks… For trying. And for… All this."

I beam, then spread my arms wide. "Hu-?"

"No."