Amalgam [Young Justice / Ben 10 SI]
- Thread starter Hmmaster
- Start date
1.14
- Location
- Alabama
CENTRAL CITY
JUNE 17, 12:28 UTC -5
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I tapped my fingers nervously against the conference room table. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air from the carafe in the corner, a small bar set up with all the bells and whistles to treat yourself through a tough workday. A steaming cup of Joe lay near my hand, the heat rather calming. It was the mundane creature comforts of Earth that I'd missed.
Paradoxically, the Flash was not punctual. I'd checked and triple checked the time, glanced through some of Gabriel's reports on Intergang and other related movements, and read through my last message to my father. Anything to keep busy while I waited for the Fastest Man Alive.
I needed to focus on Earth, not sending constant updates to Osmos V and twiddling my thumbs to wait for a response.
I had a goal here, one that I'd need to accomplish before I could shift my attention back to my other home. Barring any interventions from the Reach, Aggregor and Jula would keep things running smoothly until I could return. Hopefully with aid we could turn on our enemies.
The door leading into the meeting chamber opened, revealing the cramped hallway of a seemingly abandoned police precinct. The Flash likely had a true home base somewhere in Central City – maybe even S.T.A.R. Labs if you used the CW show – but I didn't blame them for finding a secondary location. Someone was paying the bill to keep the power on, so maybe this was one of a few safehouses.
What the Flash needed safehouses for to patrol a city he could lap a few dozen times in seconds was beyond me.
The man himself was apologetic – the skin tight scarlet uniform adorned with electric yellow bolts for detailing truly caught the eye. You couldn't miss this man in a room crowded with a hundred people, and I beamed.
"Why so red?"
I'd always wondered. The hero genre began under the era of three color comics, and naturally, the defining costumes of that era were bright, colorful, and unnecessary in a real sense. There was nothing preventing Barry or Wally or Bart or whoever this would turn out to be from wearing black or even civilian clothes to do his job.
The man glanced down at his body and then back toward me. "Oh. It was my, uh, mom's favorite color."
Hmm.
Barry Allen.
Kid Flash? Wally West.
"Why do you wear brown and gold?" the speedster wondered. It wasn't a teasing probe – he genuinely seemed to want to know as he found his seat across from me.
"I lived in a desert most of my life," I explained simply. "For the work I did, camouflage into that environment was important. So I stuck with the color scheme here."
"Sensible." The Flash rapped his knuckles on the table. "And this was on your, uh, home world?"
Hmm. That was a probe, trying to confirm details he thought he knew, that the League thought they knew. The Lanterns would know eventually. "Yes. Not from around this neck of the galaxy."
The man smirked. "Every time I meet an alien, I never know what to expect. You'd think this would be a rare situation for a man in my line of work, but man, it happens often."
I wanted to know more about which one's he'd met, beyond the other heroes, but I'd have to learn later. "I can imagine. Everything I've seen points to Earth being kinda odd. You attract a lot of strange things."
Magic, machines, aliens, cosmic horrors, gods, monsters, time travel – the list went on and on.
"Were you attracted to Earth because of that, too?"
I shook my head. "What have the Green Lanterns told you of the Plumbers?"
"Not a lot – we don't interact too often with outer space, despite what I just said." He chuckled. "Most of our work is on the ground."
I could understand that. Maybe this League had not expanded their horizons. That… frustrated part of my plan to learn, because if this was already the kind of JL that regularly patrolled space? It wouldn't be so difficult to convince them to look into the Reach.
"Well, if the Lanterns are bright, shiny, at the public front of the universe, the Plumbers are in their shadows, operating on the sly, acting in secret. You don't often know about the Plumbers unless you need to know."
"Hmm, that's interesting," the man muttered. "And you're one of them?"
I held up the badge. "Not quite, but it's a long story. I can tell ya now, or wait to share a full briefing to whoever else on your team wants to know."
The man nodded. "Maybe the short version."
I kept it brief, concise, with no unnecessary detail and no outlining exactly the kind of unscrupulous actions I'd had to take during the war. It was clinical, practiced, and anyone with half a brain could tell that I was holding things back, but the speedster did not pry into my business any more than was necessary.
"So, the Plumber for this sector of space brought you here after his investigation of Osmos V ended," the Flash guessed.
"More or less."
Barry looked as though he had a question but bit his tongue, instead shifting topics. "Here now, then. Not the ambassador to the entire world or anything, but welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy your stay."
The affable tone and disarming smirk? The pointed sidestepping of the consequences of fighting in a war. I could almost believe he trusted me, that he had respect, that he might not question me too harshly. But he was the first in a list of folks I would need to answer to, and I doubted they would all be so keen on acting graciously.
I hadn't acted perfectly in my heroics since arriving here. Property damage, potential political fallout – the list grew each week. The Flash may be willing to put those questions aside, but would the Batman? Would Wonder Woman or Superman?
"I appreciate you helping Kid Flash and Robin," the Flash stated. "I was halfway to Timbuktu when I got the alert, and I couldn't drop everything and get here fast enough to intervene."
Hmmm.
Was he truthful?
He might be.
"How dangerous is this world, really?"
He blinked, surprised.
"The reason I ask is because I've yet to see a member of your League respond to anything I've done since getting here, big or small. There seems to be something happening all the time, something that needs your attention."
When I set out to find the sidekicks and ingratiate myself into their good graces, I expected to meet their mentors working alongside them. When I finally met one, he was masked as a civilian and couldn't assist. Perhaps the greatest hero of them all, stuck in a business suit and pretending to be so drunk getting almost kidnapped didn't phase him.
"Oh! Well, there are a lot of moving pieces to what we do for the people. We also cannot be on duty one hundred percent of the time – some of us have lives, responsibilities that we cannot just abandon every time easily."
I frowned. "So you put aside your heroics to have a coffee date? To have a holiday meal at your parents' place? To… go to work?"
The Flash froze for a second and then leaned back in his chair. "You're gonna get along with the Batman." At my tilt of the head, he continued. "He'll be here soon. He had to check on something in Gotham."
"That's what I'm talking about."
"I, uh, can't say I follow."
"It's been nearly twenty four hours or so. Robin was in Central City, but his superior wasn't?" I tapped my wrist. "He couldn't be here to meet sooner because he was 'checking on something'?" I frowned. "The green archer wasn't with the red archer. Aqualad didn't have Aquaman. Now Robin and Kid Flash?" The situation with Troia was the only one that broke the pattern – it had been coincidence.
"I can't speak for the others," the Flash began, "but Kid Flash and I do nearly daily patrols. Things are a little different when the school year starts in the fall, but he usually doesn't operate without me at his side to help him out, give advice, teach him what he needs to know."
Hmmm. "So it's a coincidence that you just happened to be busy. Aquaman, Green Arrow, Batman, too."
His brow rose, a movement nearly obscured by the mask over the top half of his face. But before he could say anything, a voice cut through the din.
"No more than that it's a coincidence that you happened to meet - and work with - every major League member's protege."
Batman stalked into the conference room and confidently loomed over both of us sitting at the table. The other hero started to stand, but the Dark Knight – good lord is he intimidating – waved his hand. The armor hidden beneath a relatively simple material must work wonders, because this man faced countless attempts to bruise, maim, burn and break his body on a nightly basis. And yet, he persisted.
The banality of this man sitting across from me, decked out in full batsuit, really stood in stark contrast to the impression I had of him from every medium I'd interacted with. Cartoons and comics don't have the art budget to highlight the acne scars that dotted his chin. He had near perfect posture, compared to the Flash who all but had rested his feet on the table.
"Hmm," I began, "there's a reason for that. Do you have a reason for your convenient absences?"
Challenging them had risks. I could be a sycophant and listen to every word they say, shout "Yes, sir," at every opportunity, and follow every order to a T. Ultimately, I decided against it in the long run – mutual respect and willingness to cooperate when earned?
I didn't want to be one of their sidekicks.
The Batman pointedly did not answer my point and instead refocused on the matter at hand. "What did you hope to gain?"
"In what way and with what?"
The man waited a moment. "Let's shift to something simpler. We've reviewed footage and clocked your speeds. Why do you operate in New York?"
I pointed to the Flash. "Why does he stick to Central City?" The speedster set his jaw. "Having a home turf you regularly patrol? Isn't that just how it's done?"
Coast City. Jump City. Gotham. Metropolis. Central City. Fawcett City. And more.
"So you hope to gain the trust of a city?" The Flash suggested.
"More of less," I answered truthfully. "From all the information I've gathered about how you all operate, mimicking that as I start out felt like the right move."
The two of them shared a glance. Batman cleared his throat. "You came to Earth, abandoned your planet during its post-war recovery, and decided to protect an entirely different culture."
It was a solid point.
"The planet is in good hands. I'm just one piece of larger whole there," I admitted. Yes, it was impressive that I had fought Xandros, but Aggregor had a legion of other Gifted, Exceptions, and soldiers with Jula-tech. I was one of many who fought. "I am sure I could emulate what you all do on my homeworld. But, the stories of the Justice League?
"Gabriel told me a lot about you all. Showed news broadcasts." That was not even a lie – he had shown me grainy footage of the Appelaxian invasion, the event that birthed the League. "You inspired me to do the same, to defend the public good and strike down those who harm it. Who better to learn how to do that best than from you all?"
The Flash nodded slightly, hesitantly. "That's certainly an idea."
"You traveled across the galaxy during a crucial point of your planet's modern history. You left loved ones behind. All to learn how to operate as we do?" The Batman's eyes were still. Cold. Calculating.
"You're not wrong that it sounds strange," I admitted, "and truth be told, there are other benefits. Gabriel believes working with you all would be the kind of experience I need to become a Plumber. My planet is not the type to attract Oa's attention."
I was under no illusions that Bruce believed me. That Barry, even, believed me. A partial truth – the Guardians loved to recruit those into the Plumbers who have relevant field experiences. They did seem to have something against my planet, or at least, a reticence to get involved.
The part I did not mention involved the Reach, but I did not wish to put all the cards on the table. If I brokered that point now, I was certain to be ignored. Dismissed. Even if they wanted to help right then, providing the infrastructure to go after the Reach or to assist Osmos V soon would be unlikely to be possible.
The League from JLU? They had fleets of Javelins, space-based weaponry, and at least three dozen more members. That League could do it, could offer assistance, more readily.
"A war-time rebel and mercenary doesn't attract the Plumbers?" The Flash asked.
"Not from Osmos, and not one so young," I grumbled, "but I am older than I look."
Bruce continued as Barry contemplated. "You come all this way to learn from us and immediately question our 'convenient absences'. Why?"
I had an answer. "You should hear the way Gabriel talks about you. He believes in what you all do. The way his stories ended gave me the impression you all were capable of responding to any threat, anywhere." I paused, continuing before they could interrupt. "And you might be! I know things are more complicated than that, but I was beginning to wonder if all the stories were just bunk. Or that you were deliberately ignoring me."
Especially after the nuclear submarine incident.
Bruce did not answer the last point. Instead, his wrist lit up with a small red light. "We will be in touch."
"Wait – that's it?"
The man stood to his feet, and Barry froze as the same warning Bruce just recieved must have sounded in his ear.
"Did you expect us to roll out a red carpet for you?"
I blinked at the Dark Knight. "No, but-"
"Like I said," he began, "we will be in touch."
The man strode from the room, black cape trailing behind him.
Barry zipped to the door in a flurry of wind and came to a sudden stop. "Huh. So… maybe you won't get along."
NEW YORK CITY
JUNE 28, 9:19 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Before my appointment, I ordered a New York style giant pizza, and scarfed it down to eat my feelings. I had not had true pizza until my trip to Central City, and I can't say that it didn't feel nice to finally enjoy a slice or two.
Central Park stretched in front of me from my perch on the high-rise roof. Far below, much farther than I could see to make out details, were tourists and regulars who had no idea the dangers any one of them could be in.
Intergang had a vested interest in me, and these were my stomping grounds. I imagined drones popping up from around corners everywhere I walked to take me down, and I'd been lucky the first time that I had not been alone. I wasn't sure I could have taken on three of them and win, without others to attract their attention.
As bad as it must be for Intergang to target me, I couldn't help but play back the conversation between myself and the two heroes. That was where my anxiety formed, and I don't think it went well. Forthright answers were still not the right play at this stage, but I could have avoided the hostility. My frustration at their willingness to put me as bait, to risk injury or death to the stadium attendees just to draw out associates of Intergang? Those feelings bled into the interaction, and it frustrated the hell out of me.
I knew what I needed to do.
To prove myself to them. To prove I was worthy of trust, worthy of their faith in me. It was one thing to hear about exploits of a war that they had not witnessed. It was another thing entirely to provide concrete examples of what you could bring to the table. Stopping petty crimes, breaking drug deals, and stopping robberies were not going to cut it.
Arms crossed, Gabriel descended to the rooftop on his hoverboard. His snazzy black and white uniform looked every bit the spandex the other heroes of Earth wore so often, the green light on his belt buckle glimmering with the same glow as the energy emissions of the hoverboard. He kicked the side with a practiced foot and dropped to the ground, catching the device in the next moment to shrink it and slide it into his belt buckle.
A moment later, a still-dressed-in-civvies Kyle Rayner landed much less gracefully, and the boy grumbled when his father clicked his fingers and recalled the kid's hoverboard, to slide back into his belt.
Both hastily reached to share the offered box of pizza.
"I suppose flying lessons are going well?"
"No! I mean, yes! They're, uh, awesome!" The kid's cheeks burned.
"They're progressing," Gabriel explained with the terse, frustrated stare of an overstimulated parent.
The kid excitedly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a long scar on his wrist that stretched nearly to the elbow. "Hey, hey, look, Cassian. We started!"
I rose an eyebrow to Gabriel. "Which one is this?"
"A biological electricity stabilizer," Gabriel answered before Kyle could. "Assists in the eventual integration of the suit into the nervous system."
"We had to start somewhere," the kid explained, "but I was hoping for a video game HUD over my vision!"
The man started to speak, thought better of it, and then promptly closed his mouth a half-second later.
"I've decided what I want to do next," I said, breaking the moment of hesitation. We'd discussed the merits of Kyle beginning his inheritance of the cybernetic implants at length. It was time to move on.
"What do you have on Whisper A'Daire and Bruno Manheim?"
Kyle did not recognize the names from the tilt of his head, but Gabriel clearly knew something.
"You want to hit them back."
I clenched my fist, the sounds of the busy city below caught on the wind. "It might not be how others would handle it, but I won't be passive. I won't wait for them to fucking hit me."
Gabriel and Kyle both grinned, the former after a moment of consideration.
Intergang, I am coming for you.
JUNE 17, 12:28 UTC -5
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I tapped my fingers nervously against the conference room table. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air from the carafe in the corner, a small bar set up with all the bells and whistles to treat yourself through a tough workday. A steaming cup of Joe lay near my hand, the heat rather calming. It was the mundane creature comforts of Earth that I'd missed.
Paradoxically, the Flash was not punctual. I'd checked and triple checked the time, glanced through some of Gabriel's reports on Intergang and other related movements, and read through my last message to my father. Anything to keep busy while I waited for the Fastest Man Alive.
I needed to focus on Earth, not sending constant updates to Osmos V and twiddling my thumbs to wait for a response.
I had a goal here, one that I'd need to accomplish before I could shift my attention back to my other home. Barring any interventions from the Reach, Aggregor and Jula would keep things running smoothly until I could return. Hopefully with aid we could turn on our enemies.
The door leading into the meeting chamber opened, revealing the cramped hallway of a seemingly abandoned police precinct. The Flash likely had a true home base somewhere in Central City – maybe even S.T.A.R. Labs if you used the CW show – but I didn't blame them for finding a secondary location. Someone was paying the bill to keep the power on, so maybe this was one of a few safehouses.
What the Flash needed safehouses for to patrol a city he could lap a few dozen times in seconds was beyond me.
The man himself was apologetic – the skin tight scarlet uniform adorned with electric yellow bolts for detailing truly caught the eye. You couldn't miss this man in a room crowded with a hundred people, and I beamed.
"Why so red?"
I'd always wondered. The hero genre began under the era of three color comics, and naturally, the defining costumes of that era were bright, colorful, and unnecessary in a real sense. There was nothing preventing Barry or Wally or Bart or whoever this would turn out to be from wearing black or even civilian clothes to do his job.
The man glanced down at his body and then back toward me. "Oh. It was my, uh, mom's favorite color."
Hmm.
Barry Allen.
Kid Flash? Wally West.
"Why do you wear brown and gold?" the speedster wondered. It wasn't a teasing probe – he genuinely seemed to want to know as he found his seat across from me.
"I lived in a desert most of my life," I explained simply. "For the work I did, camouflage into that environment was important. So I stuck with the color scheme here."
"Sensible." The Flash rapped his knuckles on the table. "And this was on your, uh, home world?"
Hmm. That was a probe, trying to confirm details he thought he knew, that the League thought they knew. The Lanterns would know eventually. "Yes. Not from around this neck of the galaxy."
The man smirked. "Every time I meet an alien, I never know what to expect. You'd think this would be a rare situation for a man in my line of work, but man, it happens often."
I wanted to know more about which one's he'd met, beyond the other heroes, but I'd have to learn later. "I can imagine. Everything I've seen points to Earth being kinda odd. You attract a lot of strange things."
Magic, machines, aliens, cosmic horrors, gods, monsters, time travel – the list went on and on.
"Were you attracted to Earth because of that, too?"
I shook my head. "What have the Green Lanterns told you of the Plumbers?"
"Not a lot – we don't interact too often with outer space, despite what I just said." He chuckled. "Most of our work is on the ground."
I could understand that. Maybe this League had not expanded their horizons. That… frustrated part of my plan to learn, because if this was already the kind of JL that regularly patrolled space? It wouldn't be so difficult to convince them to look into the Reach.
"Well, if the Lanterns are bright, shiny, at the public front of the universe, the Plumbers are in their shadows, operating on the sly, acting in secret. You don't often know about the Plumbers unless you need to know."
"Hmm, that's interesting," the man muttered. "And you're one of them?"
I held up the badge. "Not quite, but it's a long story. I can tell ya now, or wait to share a full briefing to whoever else on your team wants to know."
The man nodded. "Maybe the short version."
I kept it brief, concise, with no unnecessary detail and no outlining exactly the kind of unscrupulous actions I'd had to take during the war. It was clinical, practiced, and anyone with half a brain could tell that I was holding things back, but the speedster did not pry into my business any more than was necessary.
"So, the Plumber for this sector of space brought you here after his investigation of Osmos V ended," the Flash guessed.
"More or less."
Barry looked as though he had a question but bit his tongue, instead shifting topics. "Here now, then. Not the ambassador to the entire world or anything, but welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy your stay."
The affable tone and disarming smirk? The pointed sidestepping of the consequences of fighting in a war. I could almost believe he trusted me, that he had respect, that he might not question me too harshly. But he was the first in a list of folks I would need to answer to, and I doubted they would all be so keen on acting graciously.
I hadn't acted perfectly in my heroics since arriving here. Property damage, potential political fallout – the list grew each week. The Flash may be willing to put those questions aside, but would the Batman? Would Wonder Woman or Superman?
"I appreciate you helping Kid Flash and Robin," the Flash stated. "I was halfway to Timbuktu when I got the alert, and I couldn't drop everything and get here fast enough to intervene."
Hmmm.
Was he truthful?
He might be.
"How dangerous is this world, really?"
He blinked, surprised.
"The reason I ask is because I've yet to see a member of your League respond to anything I've done since getting here, big or small. There seems to be something happening all the time, something that needs your attention."
When I set out to find the sidekicks and ingratiate myself into their good graces, I expected to meet their mentors working alongside them. When I finally met one, he was masked as a civilian and couldn't assist. Perhaps the greatest hero of them all, stuck in a business suit and pretending to be so drunk getting almost kidnapped didn't phase him.
"Oh! Well, there are a lot of moving pieces to what we do for the people. We also cannot be on duty one hundred percent of the time – some of us have lives, responsibilities that we cannot just abandon every time easily."
I frowned. "So you put aside your heroics to have a coffee date? To have a holiday meal at your parents' place? To… go to work?"
The Flash froze for a second and then leaned back in his chair. "You're gonna get along with the Batman." At my tilt of the head, he continued. "He'll be here soon. He had to check on something in Gotham."
"That's what I'm talking about."
"I, uh, can't say I follow."
"It's been nearly twenty four hours or so. Robin was in Central City, but his superior wasn't?" I tapped my wrist. "He couldn't be here to meet sooner because he was 'checking on something'?" I frowned. "The green archer wasn't with the red archer. Aqualad didn't have Aquaman. Now Robin and Kid Flash?" The situation with Troia was the only one that broke the pattern – it had been coincidence.
"I can't speak for the others," the Flash began, "but Kid Flash and I do nearly daily patrols. Things are a little different when the school year starts in the fall, but he usually doesn't operate without me at his side to help him out, give advice, teach him what he needs to know."
Hmmm. "So it's a coincidence that you just happened to be busy. Aquaman, Green Arrow, Batman, too."
His brow rose, a movement nearly obscured by the mask over the top half of his face. But before he could say anything, a voice cut through the din.
"No more than that it's a coincidence that you happened to meet - and work with - every major League member's protege."
Batman stalked into the conference room and confidently loomed over both of us sitting at the table. The other hero started to stand, but the Dark Knight – good lord is he intimidating – waved his hand. The armor hidden beneath a relatively simple material must work wonders, because this man faced countless attempts to bruise, maim, burn and break his body on a nightly basis. And yet, he persisted.
The banality of this man sitting across from me, decked out in full batsuit, really stood in stark contrast to the impression I had of him from every medium I'd interacted with. Cartoons and comics don't have the art budget to highlight the acne scars that dotted his chin. He had near perfect posture, compared to the Flash who all but had rested his feet on the table.
"Hmm," I began, "there's a reason for that. Do you have a reason for your convenient absences?"
Challenging them had risks. I could be a sycophant and listen to every word they say, shout "Yes, sir," at every opportunity, and follow every order to a T. Ultimately, I decided against it in the long run – mutual respect and willingness to cooperate when earned?
I didn't want to be one of their sidekicks.
The Batman pointedly did not answer my point and instead refocused on the matter at hand. "What did you hope to gain?"
"In what way and with what?"
The man waited a moment. "Let's shift to something simpler. We've reviewed footage and clocked your speeds. Why do you operate in New York?"
I pointed to the Flash. "Why does he stick to Central City?" The speedster set his jaw. "Having a home turf you regularly patrol? Isn't that just how it's done?"
Coast City. Jump City. Gotham. Metropolis. Central City. Fawcett City. And more.
"So you hope to gain the trust of a city?" The Flash suggested.
"More of less," I answered truthfully. "From all the information I've gathered about how you all operate, mimicking that as I start out felt like the right move."
The two of them shared a glance. Batman cleared his throat. "You came to Earth, abandoned your planet during its post-war recovery, and decided to protect an entirely different culture."
It was a solid point.
"The planet is in good hands. I'm just one piece of larger whole there," I admitted. Yes, it was impressive that I had fought Xandros, but Aggregor had a legion of other Gifted, Exceptions, and soldiers with Jula-tech. I was one of many who fought. "I am sure I could emulate what you all do on my homeworld. But, the stories of the Justice League?
"Gabriel told me a lot about you all. Showed news broadcasts." That was not even a lie – he had shown me grainy footage of the Appelaxian invasion, the event that birthed the League. "You inspired me to do the same, to defend the public good and strike down those who harm it. Who better to learn how to do that best than from you all?"
The Flash nodded slightly, hesitantly. "That's certainly an idea."
"You traveled across the galaxy during a crucial point of your planet's modern history. You left loved ones behind. All to learn how to operate as we do?" The Batman's eyes were still. Cold. Calculating.
"You're not wrong that it sounds strange," I admitted, "and truth be told, there are other benefits. Gabriel believes working with you all would be the kind of experience I need to become a Plumber. My planet is not the type to attract Oa's attention."
I was under no illusions that Bruce believed me. That Barry, even, believed me. A partial truth – the Guardians loved to recruit those into the Plumbers who have relevant field experiences. They did seem to have something against my planet, or at least, a reticence to get involved.
The part I did not mention involved the Reach, but I did not wish to put all the cards on the table. If I brokered that point now, I was certain to be ignored. Dismissed. Even if they wanted to help right then, providing the infrastructure to go after the Reach or to assist Osmos V soon would be unlikely to be possible.
The League from JLU? They had fleets of Javelins, space-based weaponry, and at least three dozen more members. That League could do it, could offer assistance, more readily.
"A war-time rebel and mercenary doesn't attract the Plumbers?" The Flash asked.
"Not from Osmos, and not one so young," I grumbled, "but I am older than I look."
Bruce continued as Barry contemplated. "You come all this way to learn from us and immediately question our 'convenient absences'. Why?"
I had an answer. "You should hear the way Gabriel talks about you. He believes in what you all do. The way his stories ended gave me the impression you all were capable of responding to any threat, anywhere." I paused, continuing before they could interrupt. "And you might be! I know things are more complicated than that, but I was beginning to wonder if all the stories were just bunk. Or that you were deliberately ignoring me."
Especially after the nuclear submarine incident.
Bruce did not answer the last point. Instead, his wrist lit up with a small red light. "We will be in touch."
"Wait – that's it?"
The man stood to his feet, and Barry froze as the same warning Bruce just recieved must have sounded in his ear.
"Did you expect us to roll out a red carpet for you?"
I blinked at the Dark Knight. "No, but-"
"Like I said," he began, "we will be in touch."
The man strode from the room, black cape trailing behind him.
Barry zipped to the door in a flurry of wind and came to a sudden stop. "Huh. So… maybe you won't get along."
NEW YORK CITY
JUNE 28, 9:19 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Before my appointment, I ordered a New York style giant pizza, and scarfed it down to eat my feelings. I had not had true pizza until my trip to Central City, and I can't say that it didn't feel nice to finally enjoy a slice or two.
Central Park stretched in front of me from my perch on the high-rise roof. Far below, much farther than I could see to make out details, were tourists and regulars who had no idea the dangers any one of them could be in.
Intergang had a vested interest in me, and these were my stomping grounds. I imagined drones popping up from around corners everywhere I walked to take me down, and I'd been lucky the first time that I had not been alone. I wasn't sure I could have taken on three of them and win, without others to attract their attention.
As bad as it must be for Intergang to target me, I couldn't help but play back the conversation between myself and the two heroes. That was where my anxiety formed, and I don't think it went well. Forthright answers were still not the right play at this stage, but I could have avoided the hostility. My frustration at their willingness to put me as bait, to risk injury or death to the stadium attendees just to draw out associates of Intergang? Those feelings bled into the interaction, and it frustrated the hell out of me.
I knew what I needed to do.
To prove myself to them. To prove I was worthy of trust, worthy of their faith in me. It was one thing to hear about exploits of a war that they had not witnessed. It was another thing entirely to provide concrete examples of what you could bring to the table. Stopping petty crimes, breaking drug deals, and stopping robberies were not going to cut it.
Arms crossed, Gabriel descended to the rooftop on his hoverboard. His snazzy black and white uniform looked every bit the spandex the other heroes of Earth wore so often, the green light on his belt buckle glimmering with the same glow as the energy emissions of the hoverboard. He kicked the side with a practiced foot and dropped to the ground, catching the device in the next moment to shrink it and slide it into his belt buckle.
A moment later, a still-dressed-in-civvies Kyle Rayner landed much less gracefully, and the boy grumbled when his father clicked his fingers and recalled the kid's hoverboard, to slide back into his belt.
Both hastily reached to share the offered box of pizza.
"I suppose flying lessons are going well?"
"No! I mean, yes! They're, uh, awesome!" The kid's cheeks burned.
"They're progressing," Gabriel explained with the terse, frustrated stare of an overstimulated parent.
The kid excitedly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a long scar on his wrist that stretched nearly to the elbow. "Hey, hey, look, Cassian. We started!"
I rose an eyebrow to Gabriel. "Which one is this?"
"A biological electricity stabilizer," Gabriel answered before Kyle could. "Assists in the eventual integration of the suit into the nervous system."
"We had to start somewhere," the kid explained, "but I was hoping for a video game HUD over my vision!"
The man started to speak, thought better of it, and then promptly closed his mouth a half-second later.
"I've decided what I want to do next," I said, breaking the moment of hesitation. We'd discussed the merits of Kyle beginning his inheritance of the cybernetic implants at length. It was time to move on.
"What do you have on Whisper A'Daire and Bruno Manheim?"
Kyle did not recognize the names from the tilt of his head, but Gabriel clearly knew something.
"You want to hit them back."
I clenched my fist, the sounds of the busy city below caught on the wind. "It might not be how others would handle it, but I won't be passive. I won't wait for them to fucking hit me."
Gabriel and Kyle both grinned, the former after a moment of consideration.
Intergang, I am coming for you.
Interlude - Arc 1
- Location
- Alabama
GOTHAM CITY
JUNE 30, 23:34 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Jinx slipped through the crowded amphitheater, hype music vibrating her very bones. As catchy as the song was, it paled in comparison to the sounds of a sleeping forest, a raging river, a windswept plain. The crowd cheered as they danced, nothing more than a mosh pit of Goths, outcasts, and edgy teenagers who had nothing on her. They were all posers who had little reason to be so mad at the world compared to her.
An older teen carrying a hotdog nearly ran into her, while her feet crunched a discarded plate of nachos when she evaded him. Cursing under her breath, Jinx nearly tapped into the mana around her just to center herself to avoid frustration - there was not enough nature in Gotham, but there was certainly enough life to touch. She'd improved the trick over the years, but it was not her greatest focus and sometimes made her weary.
Regardless, she avoided the impulse and pushed past the adoring fans chanting, "Earth, Wiiiind, Fire and Air!" She aimed for the backstage area and it was a paltry bit of magic to jinx open the door with a flash of pink – she hadn't expected the door latch to turn into a firework sparkler, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Slipping inside the empty corridor, Jinx reached into her belt and pulled a small rod of lead, wrapped in pure golden filigree. It was an arcane trinket from Jason Blood's vault, nothing more than a divining rod to amplify other spells capable of finding information. She'd ignored the fancy Phoenician name for it and instead called it the Find-It-Stick. What made it interesting was that it worked, mostly, when you were in close proximity with another object of magic.
Jinx channeled a bit of her power, focus, and intent into the gimmicky tool, and the thing barely responded in kind. The end of the rod dipped once, twice, thrice of its own accord, then shifted to the left.
"Huh. Looks like you are more than you seem," Jinx mumbled under her breath.
Long before she worked with Kent, Jinx had honed the ability to remain unnoticed without even a hint of magical subterfuge to assist her. It had been useful to learn, because she may not always be near a place where she can draw power. More often than not, she had the muffling chaos of urban environments stifling her abilities.
Regardless, it was easy enough for her to sneak through the venue's back chambers and avoid encounters with security, managers, or crew. One particularly precarious moment involved her acrobatically holding herself between two walls near the ceiling, so that the passerby would only see her if they looked up.
The Find-It-Stick gestured toward the leftmost hallway, and she turned and then bypassed a closed door to the lead singer's room, conjoined with the other two members of the eco-goth trio.
The words of Jason Blood echoed in her mind. "This path will lead to ruin."
Yet he still gave her the stick.
Sadly the tool was only so accurate. She searched the room for anything and everything, hoping to find a connection to the ancient sash she had found, a mantle designed to be worn around the next of a spellcaster. Jinx searched high and low, forward and backward, over and under. The contents of the singer's suitcase lay sprawled across the bed, and she…
Herbs.
Spices.
Pickled animal parts.
Crystals.
Jinx blanched at the sight of a New Age fraud.
Or, one highly likely to be a fraud.
There were certainly witches who practiced simplistic magic to contort the elements to their whims, using sympathetic bindings, concepts, and trappings. The kind who believed practical, physical magic in the Old Ways would benefit those in the now. Jinx was not an expert at how all of this worked, because she had never had to rely on such practical craft.
Regardless, the lead singer of this band was the contact she wanted to find. The one she'd been in contact with.
Jinx waited until the concert was over within the dressing room, listening to their set list and annoyed at how easily she tapped her foot along to the catchy beat. When the singer finally entered, alone, Jinx lay on a sofa leisurely, like she owned the place.
The shocked red-haired woman held a fist tight to her chest in shock, gripping something that might have been a talisman on a better witch. The singer made to scream, but Jinx held a placating hand.
"Hey, hey, listen – they call me Jinx. You and I have spoken over email?"
The woman stilled as recollection hit her. "You're jinxemall?"
"Yep. I hope you don't mind that I'm here."
The lead singer crossed her arms in front of her chest, fingers gripping the silver ankh chain tightly. "I do, actually. I suppose it's nice to meet you, but why didn't you just go through our people?"
"Thorn, this is not the kind of conversation that happens publicly," Jinx assured her. "I am looking for a group of trinkets. You-"
"You avoided my security and tried to ambush me in my dressing room over a trinket?"
Jinx shrugged and twirled the stick in her hands. "When you put it like that, it sounds sillier than it is. Honestly, I was hoping to just find it here, take it off your hands, and avoid you altogether."
"… so you'd steal from me?" Thorn challenged. "You're determined to make me call the cops, security, whoever-"
Jinx flared a bit of magic, pink light drifting from her fingers. Where it touched, misfortune would follow. The singer, Thorn, stilled.
"A series of misaligned rituals for finding information led me to you, a 'Hex Girl' with a talent for magic. I'm looking for a series of runic charms. Have you run across anything like that?"
"… What?"
"… you don't have a clue."
"Not a one, Jinx."
The girl sighed as Thorn had the decency to look apologetic.
"I thought the bits of craft magic you had meant it was a real lead," Jinx murmured and gestured toward the front pocket of a suitcase. "Are you telling the truth?"
Thorn rose a hand. "Hey, all that witch stuff is just something I picked up in college. Thought it fit the vibe of the band. Helps me get a night of sleep, sometimes."
Jinx flared magic again. "So you can't… do any real magic?"
"Unless you count the time one of my candles nearly burned a dorm down, I doubt it? Not like the, uh, pink light."
Jinx, frustrated, felt like she was back to the drawing board. Was this not the right Hex Girl?
"Sorry for barging in," Jinx muttered finally. "I'll leave you to your evening."
The teenager strode from the room, ignoring the singer's attempts to call her back. Jinx didn't think anything the band had would connect her to the Charms of Bezel. The drawing board was rather vast with potential possibilities, and Jinx resolved to clear some of them off of her list.
THANAGARIAN SPACE
JULY 1, 16:12 UTC -0
TEAM YEAR ZERO
"Man your battle stations!"
The command settled across the ship, and the wingbeats of Thanagar's best and brightest responded to the order of their commander with discipline. It was a sight that might have stilled confidence in a normal engagement against a known foe, but their assailants were unknown to them.
The commander listened to the reports of his underlings, watched video feeds, surveyed data readings and sensors. What or who were they fighting?
A series of pods launched from deep space landed hard against the side of their command frigate a few moments ago. Their sensors didn't notice until it was too late to avoid them, and the breaches in their hull from several angles all at once were more than concerning. The tech they used must have been able to slip past their ion shields, and the number of known galactic polities capable of such a feat were few.
The commander listed several possibilities in his mind. Gordanians. Bounty hunters from the Core. Unmanned drones to scout their defenses. Perhaps enemies from the Citadelians?
Hmm. The commander noted the lack of radiation from Apokaliptan tech.
"Defenders in the aft quadrant have engaged!"
The commander of Thanagar's sixteenth fleet made the executive decision to move in force, gripping his nth metal axe in hand. Wings unfurled, he and his personal honor guard descended toward the aft, clearly the most concentrated of the attack vectors.
He'd respond in kind as only a warrior could. Tactical genius and home field advantage would win the day against any foe.
When the security doors pulled open, the sight of a pure blue blast of energy burning a hole in the chest of a bright young recruit would be added to his regular nightmares. The young Thanagarian fell at the feet of a mere boy – though you could never tell with aliens – wearing a shimmering, segmented visor over the top half of his head. The visor hummed to life once more, and another concentrated beam of power tore through another defender and the nearest interior wall of the damn ship. A crumpled, smoking wall sputtered with electrical static, its internal mechanisms as compromised as a bleeding wound.
"I demand you cease this attack at once!"
"Commander Talak, he does not respond! There is no reasoning!"
Then he would respond to the damn axe.
Hro Talak cleared the distance, bladed weapon in hand, and the boy merely turned his head and unleashed certain death from his eyes. It was all he could do to twist his axe up to divert the blast, nth metal strong enough to divert the flow of power and slice its strongest flow in twain.
"Boy!" He tried once more to reach the alien, less to convince him to stop and more to grant a possible opening.
The assailant did not answer.
Hro Talak issued orders to his guard, who moved to flank the boy. Multiple attack vectors were surely needed to win against a foe with a directional blast weapon. Sure enough, the boy unleashed energetic carnage, tearing through Thanagarian flesh and tech alike, and Hro silently admitted to himself that he was glad this attack had hit a fleet command ship and not a smaller cruiser. The laser weapon from that visor – or perhaps from the boy? – tore through sheets of metal and material as easily as it did skin and muscle. Give the boy enough time, and he could disable the command vessel and leave it adrift in space.
"Lepidopterrans!" someone barked into his communicator.
What was this boy doing with a group of bastard insectioid flying creatures? Lepidopterra had been one of Thanagar's earliest foes in its days as a spacefaring race, and whenever they appeared, trouble was sure to follow with their trail of acid spit.
A single Thanagarian from his guard managed to make purchase, nth metal knife attempting to cut into the alien's shoulder. A spray of crimson blood, and the boy showed almost no reaction across his face. Was… he even there, mentally?
The boy whipped his head around, ignoring the pain, and released utter devastation from his eyes everywhere he looked. Commander Talak pulled back from his own attack vector, barely swiping at the blast with the axe in time to keep it from blasting away his entire left arm.
The one who had cut him? Honored Lieutenant Damara Kol fell in two pieces to the ground, bisected from right shoulder to left hip.
Plasma rifle fire tried to grant them a moment of peace, and this was the first true reprieve they had had during the confrontation. The alien ducked behind cover, narrowly avoiding a sizzling burn or worse. Talak made a mental note to give these men and women the highest of awards in the Thanagarian military.
"Take him aliv-"
A buzz interrupted the statement. Three Lepidopterrans flew on their insectoid, segmented wings into the chamber from the opposite side. Their speed was notable, but more dangerously, they spat their sticky acid in a torrent down the hall and created distance. The honor guard pulled back, firing their own weapons back and managing to take one of them out with a splatter of superheated goo on the wall behind its head.
The other two diverted to grab their ally, who clung to their back and loosed another line of destruction. Everywhere the blue energy touched exploded with heat, melted, crumpled to slag.
The… damage was extensive.
"Life support systems failing!" A voice from the bridge shouted. "Commander, please advise!"
"How long do we have?"
"A half an hour, sir," replied the woman. "Oh, wait. No! Make that th-three minutes."
Talak froze.
"Crew," he commanded from his communicator, "divert all essential personnel to the escape pod hanger. Non-essential? Buy us time." Several on the comm channel started to chatter all at once, many of them arguing the point. "Dissenters need not bother. If you survive, know the full might of the Thanagarian empire will crash upon you and yours."
Talak abandoned his honor guard.
He would make a new one.
As he arranged for those who mattered, those who held sway, those with necessary skills to join him in their escape, all he could wonder was that someone would soon face the wrath of Thanagar.
OSMOS V
JULY 3, 08:07 UTC -0
TEAM YEAR ZERO
"…and that, my students, is the primary reason for the rise of tbe prominent families in the current era."
"This is boring!"
Marcilia froze as snickers burst through the room. The man at the front of the room was the eldest Osmosian they'd assembled to steward the new academy in the Capital. His horns were prominent and wrapped almost around his ears, hair reaching the small of his back behind him. Marcilia had noticed Master Declenos had no scars, no signs of healed bruising, no blemishes to his skin beyond the wizened wrinkles of age.
He hadn't fought for them.
Declenos turned to the boy who challenged the lecture. "Listen, child, history is not always entertaining. Sometimes, it is-"
"Boring!"
"Tell us about the bug people!"
"My friend said they had these big tanks that could shoot lasers!"
The chorus of voices drowned Marcilia's thoughts, and all she could do was hug her knees tighter in her chair in the back of the chamber. She could barely see Declenos and his display through the throng of assembled children, but she mostly agreed with the ones who thought the assembly was boring. She had much better things she could be doing, and really just wanted to stay home and play with her s-sjsters again.
But…
Her sob did not break the din.
They did not notice her shuffling to her feet and angling for the exit door mere feet away.
They did not notice her tears trailing after her as she pushed her way into the antechamber of the auditorium, a foyer leading down to the Capital streets below.
It was not until she pushed through the door and into the open, sun-kissed sandy street that anyone bothered to call out for her. One of the front office clerks – a nosy little woman who stank of cheese – shouted for her to turn back.
Marcilia ignored their cries.
They wouldn't understand.
The girl soldiered on through the city street, bypassing a shiny new security checkpoint issuing orders to those who wished to pass. They ignored her and those who passed it on this side, and she was grateful to find a sand-covered bench in the shade, tucked away from prying eyes.
Marcilia had no one to talk to.
The device in her bag, a communicator terminal that could easily reach Horatio or Jula, felt immensely heavy. She considered pulling it out but instead let it rest, too tired and emotional to think about what to do.
Her… her family was gone.
She tried to dry her tears, but the wetness only brought forth the memory of her eldest sister's open chest wound she'd tried to hold shut, the warmth of her life pulsing through her fingers and dripping onto their mother's favorite rug.
Her Exception – if she'd had it then, maybe Lugilla would be alive.
Maybe…
Maybe a lot of people would be alive.
The vibration of the comm terminal in her bag against her hip cut through her thoughts. Fingers wet with tears, she pulled the large device and frowned at the live video feed of Horatio. Oil smears covered the elder Osmosian's scarred face, and a storage warehouse of tools stretched behind him.
"Marce, you can't just-"
"Come get me."
The man hesitated.
"You can't make me go back there t-today."
Horatio's lip tightened. "Marcilia, this is a good thing. Normalcy. It's -"
"Bad!"
"You must give it a chance-"
"I have, Horatio," she countered, a sob pouring through. "All those girls do, those kids do, is make me think about the stuff I wanna forget. Please come get me."
The girls were the worst.
The ones who hadn't seen war.
The ones who'd benefitted from the Capital avoiding direct conflict.
The ones who still had sisters, and brothers, and cousins, and parents.
"I cannot, in good mind, allow you to do this."
Marcilia froze, a post forming in her mind. The… There was no way he was going to -
"Let me go to the hospital then."
"You must go back to the Academy. You need to see-"
She stopped listening but did not end the call.
Marcilia considered the street, where she would need to go, what she would need to do.
The school would send someone to find her. She did not have much time.
Marcilia pushed herself to her feet, stashed the shut-down terminal into her bag, and then scurried northward.
The packed hospital – still overstuffed with people suffering war injuries – was so desperate for someone with a healing Exception, even someone as young as her, that one of the nurses escorted her back with very little fanfare to a patient who'd suffered a direct hit from a Reach plasma staff. Half the woman's face was covered in thick bandages, seeping with bodily fluids and healing medicines.
Marcilia focused on what she could, even as the nurse tried to tell her that she cannot blame herself when the Exception did not work quickly, immediately, or at all.
"This might itch," she said to the somewhat conscious woman below her fingers, tracing the burn wounds. "Tell me about your family."
Marcilia did not feel jealous as the woman described cousins. A niece. A nephew. Three young children. Two doting parents. A quartet of siblings. A half-delirious description of their careers, their own families, their names later, and Marcilia's Exception began to work.
She didn't know how it all worked. Something about body parts shifting from one place to another to spark healing. The stitching and shuffling of the woman's healthy flesh into unhealthy flesh was hard for her to watch, but Marcilia did not mind.
She was helping someone.
She had done this before – one of the nurses frantically raced toward the room when they realized she was here, and she was ushered from one room to the next.
Every ache, every bruise, every broken bone was another moment she did not have to think about the life she'd lost. About the school she did no want to attend, about the family she missed, about the peace that felt unearned.
Marcilia would come to realize that she was just as wounded as these patients were, yet she did not have a scratch on her.
JUNE 30, 23:34 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Jinx slipped through the crowded amphitheater, hype music vibrating her very bones. As catchy as the song was, it paled in comparison to the sounds of a sleeping forest, a raging river, a windswept plain. The crowd cheered as they danced, nothing more than a mosh pit of Goths, outcasts, and edgy teenagers who had nothing on her. They were all posers who had little reason to be so mad at the world compared to her.
An older teen carrying a hotdog nearly ran into her, while her feet crunched a discarded plate of nachos when she evaded him. Cursing under her breath, Jinx nearly tapped into the mana around her just to center herself to avoid frustration - there was not enough nature in Gotham, but there was certainly enough life to touch. She'd improved the trick over the years, but it was not her greatest focus and sometimes made her weary.
Regardless, she avoided the impulse and pushed past the adoring fans chanting, "Earth, Wiiiind, Fire and Air!" She aimed for the backstage area and it was a paltry bit of magic to jinx open the door with a flash of pink – she hadn't expected the door latch to turn into a firework sparkler, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Slipping inside the empty corridor, Jinx reached into her belt and pulled a small rod of lead, wrapped in pure golden filigree. It was an arcane trinket from Jason Blood's vault, nothing more than a divining rod to amplify other spells capable of finding information. She'd ignored the fancy Phoenician name for it and instead called it the Find-It-Stick. What made it interesting was that it worked, mostly, when you were in close proximity with another object of magic.
Jinx channeled a bit of her power, focus, and intent into the gimmicky tool, and the thing barely responded in kind. The end of the rod dipped once, twice, thrice of its own accord, then shifted to the left.
"Huh. Looks like you are more than you seem," Jinx mumbled under her breath.
Long before she worked with Kent, Jinx had honed the ability to remain unnoticed without even a hint of magical subterfuge to assist her. It had been useful to learn, because she may not always be near a place where she can draw power. More often than not, she had the muffling chaos of urban environments stifling her abilities.
Regardless, it was easy enough for her to sneak through the venue's back chambers and avoid encounters with security, managers, or crew. One particularly precarious moment involved her acrobatically holding herself between two walls near the ceiling, so that the passerby would only see her if they looked up.
The Find-It-Stick gestured toward the leftmost hallway, and she turned and then bypassed a closed door to the lead singer's room, conjoined with the other two members of the eco-goth trio.
The words of Jason Blood echoed in her mind. "This path will lead to ruin."
Yet he still gave her the stick.
Sadly the tool was only so accurate. She searched the room for anything and everything, hoping to find a connection to the ancient sash she had found, a mantle designed to be worn around the next of a spellcaster. Jinx searched high and low, forward and backward, over and under. The contents of the singer's suitcase lay sprawled across the bed, and she…
Herbs.
Spices.
Pickled animal parts.
Crystals.
Jinx blanched at the sight of a New Age fraud.
Or, one highly likely to be a fraud.
There were certainly witches who practiced simplistic magic to contort the elements to their whims, using sympathetic bindings, concepts, and trappings. The kind who believed practical, physical magic in the Old Ways would benefit those in the now. Jinx was not an expert at how all of this worked, because she had never had to rely on such practical craft.
Regardless, the lead singer of this band was the contact she wanted to find. The one she'd been in contact with.
Jinx waited until the concert was over within the dressing room, listening to their set list and annoyed at how easily she tapped her foot along to the catchy beat. When the singer finally entered, alone, Jinx lay on a sofa leisurely, like she owned the place.
The shocked red-haired woman held a fist tight to her chest in shock, gripping something that might have been a talisman on a better witch. The singer made to scream, but Jinx held a placating hand.
"Hey, hey, listen – they call me Jinx. You and I have spoken over email?"
The woman stilled as recollection hit her. "You're jinxemall?"
"Yep. I hope you don't mind that I'm here."
The lead singer crossed her arms in front of her chest, fingers gripping the silver ankh chain tightly. "I do, actually. I suppose it's nice to meet you, but why didn't you just go through our people?"
"Thorn, this is not the kind of conversation that happens publicly," Jinx assured her. "I am looking for a group of trinkets. You-"
"You avoided my security and tried to ambush me in my dressing room over a trinket?"
Jinx shrugged and twirled the stick in her hands. "When you put it like that, it sounds sillier than it is. Honestly, I was hoping to just find it here, take it off your hands, and avoid you altogether."
"… so you'd steal from me?" Thorn challenged. "You're determined to make me call the cops, security, whoever-"
Jinx flared a bit of magic, pink light drifting from her fingers. Where it touched, misfortune would follow. The singer, Thorn, stilled.
"A series of misaligned rituals for finding information led me to you, a 'Hex Girl' with a talent for magic. I'm looking for a series of runic charms. Have you run across anything like that?"
"… What?"
"… you don't have a clue."
"Not a one, Jinx."
The girl sighed as Thorn had the decency to look apologetic.
"I thought the bits of craft magic you had meant it was a real lead," Jinx murmured and gestured toward the front pocket of a suitcase. "Are you telling the truth?"
Thorn rose a hand. "Hey, all that witch stuff is just something I picked up in college. Thought it fit the vibe of the band. Helps me get a night of sleep, sometimes."
Jinx flared magic again. "So you can't… do any real magic?"
"Unless you count the time one of my candles nearly burned a dorm down, I doubt it? Not like the, uh, pink light."
Jinx, frustrated, felt like she was back to the drawing board. Was this not the right Hex Girl?
"Sorry for barging in," Jinx muttered finally. "I'll leave you to your evening."
The teenager strode from the room, ignoring the singer's attempts to call her back. Jinx didn't think anything the band had would connect her to the Charms of Bezel. The drawing board was rather vast with potential possibilities, and Jinx resolved to clear some of them off of her list.
THANAGARIAN SPACE
JULY 1, 16:12 UTC -0
TEAM YEAR ZERO
"Man your battle stations!"
The command settled across the ship, and the wingbeats of Thanagar's best and brightest responded to the order of their commander with discipline. It was a sight that might have stilled confidence in a normal engagement against a known foe, but their assailants were unknown to them.
The commander listened to the reports of his underlings, watched video feeds, surveyed data readings and sensors. What or who were they fighting?
A series of pods launched from deep space landed hard against the side of their command frigate a few moments ago. Their sensors didn't notice until it was too late to avoid them, and the breaches in their hull from several angles all at once were more than concerning. The tech they used must have been able to slip past their ion shields, and the number of known galactic polities capable of such a feat were few.
The commander listed several possibilities in his mind. Gordanians. Bounty hunters from the Core. Unmanned drones to scout their defenses. Perhaps enemies from the Citadelians?
Hmm. The commander noted the lack of radiation from Apokaliptan tech.
"Defenders in the aft quadrant have engaged!"
The commander of Thanagar's sixteenth fleet made the executive decision to move in force, gripping his nth metal axe in hand. Wings unfurled, he and his personal honor guard descended toward the aft, clearly the most concentrated of the attack vectors.
He'd respond in kind as only a warrior could. Tactical genius and home field advantage would win the day against any foe.
When the security doors pulled open, the sight of a pure blue blast of energy burning a hole in the chest of a bright young recruit would be added to his regular nightmares. The young Thanagarian fell at the feet of a mere boy – though you could never tell with aliens – wearing a shimmering, segmented visor over the top half of his head. The visor hummed to life once more, and another concentrated beam of power tore through another defender and the nearest interior wall of the damn ship. A crumpled, smoking wall sputtered with electrical static, its internal mechanisms as compromised as a bleeding wound.
"I demand you cease this attack at once!"
"Commander Talak, he does not respond! There is no reasoning!"
Then he would respond to the damn axe.
Hro Talak cleared the distance, bladed weapon in hand, and the boy merely turned his head and unleashed certain death from his eyes. It was all he could do to twist his axe up to divert the blast, nth metal strong enough to divert the flow of power and slice its strongest flow in twain.
"Boy!" He tried once more to reach the alien, less to convince him to stop and more to grant a possible opening.
The assailant did not answer.
Hro Talak issued orders to his guard, who moved to flank the boy. Multiple attack vectors were surely needed to win against a foe with a directional blast weapon. Sure enough, the boy unleashed energetic carnage, tearing through Thanagarian flesh and tech alike, and Hro silently admitted to himself that he was glad this attack had hit a fleet command ship and not a smaller cruiser. The laser weapon from that visor – or perhaps from the boy? – tore through sheets of metal and material as easily as it did skin and muscle. Give the boy enough time, and he could disable the command vessel and leave it adrift in space.
"Lepidopterrans!" someone barked into his communicator.
What was this boy doing with a group of bastard insectioid flying creatures? Lepidopterra had been one of Thanagar's earliest foes in its days as a spacefaring race, and whenever they appeared, trouble was sure to follow with their trail of acid spit.
A single Thanagarian from his guard managed to make purchase, nth metal knife attempting to cut into the alien's shoulder. A spray of crimson blood, and the boy showed almost no reaction across his face. Was… he even there, mentally?
The boy whipped his head around, ignoring the pain, and released utter devastation from his eyes everywhere he looked. Commander Talak pulled back from his own attack vector, barely swiping at the blast with the axe in time to keep it from blasting away his entire left arm.
The one who had cut him? Honored Lieutenant Damara Kol fell in two pieces to the ground, bisected from right shoulder to left hip.
Plasma rifle fire tried to grant them a moment of peace, and this was the first true reprieve they had had during the confrontation. The alien ducked behind cover, narrowly avoiding a sizzling burn or worse. Talak made a mental note to give these men and women the highest of awards in the Thanagarian military.
"Take him aliv-"
A buzz interrupted the statement. Three Lepidopterrans flew on their insectoid, segmented wings into the chamber from the opposite side. Their speed was notable, but more dangerously, they spat their sticky acid in a torrent down the hall and created distance. The honor guard pulled back, firing their own weapons back and managing to take one of them out with a splatter of superheated goo on the wall behind its head.
The other two diverted to grab their ally, who clung to their back and loosed another line of destruction. Everywhere the blue energy touched exploded with heat, melted, crumpled to slag.
The… damage was extensive.
"Life support systems failing!" A voice from the bridge shouted. "Commander, please advise!"
"How long do we have?"
"A half an hour, sir," replied the woman. "Oh, wait. No! Make that th-three minutes."
Talak froze.
"Crew," he commanded from his communicator, "divert all essential personnel to the escape pod hanger. Non-essential? Buy us time." Several on the comm channel started to chatter all at once, many of them arguing the point. "Dissenters need not bother. If you survive, know the full might of the Thanagarian empire will crash upon you and yours."
Talak abandoned his honor guard.
He would make a new one.
As he arranged for those who mattered, those who held sway, those with necessary skills to join him in their escape, all he could wonder was that someone would soon face the wrath of Thanagar.
OSMOS V
JULY 3, 08:07 UTC -0
TEAM YEAR ZERO
"…and that, my students, is the primary reason for the rise of tbe prominent families in the current era."
"This is boring!"
Marcilia froze as snickers burst through the room. The man at the front of the room was the eldest Osmosian they'd assembled to steward the new academy in the Capital. His horns were prominent and wrapped almost around his ears, hair reaching the small of his back behind him. Marcilia had noticed Master Declenos had no scars, no signs of healed bruising, no blemishes to his skin beyond the wizened wrinkles of age.
He hadn't fought for them.
Declenos turned to the boy who challenged the lecture. "Listen, child, history is not always entertaining. Sometimes, it is-"
"Boring!"
"Tell us about the bug people!"
"My friend said they had these big tanks that could shoot lasers!"
The chorus of voices drowned Marcilia's thoughts, and all she could do was hug her knees tighter in her chair in the back of the chamber. She could barely see Declenos and his display through the throng of assembled children, but she mostly agreed with the ones who thought the assembly was boring. She had much better things she could be doing, and really just wanted to stay home and play with her s-sjsters again.
But…
Her sob did not break the din.
They did not notice her shuffling to her feet and angling for the exit door mere feet away.
They did not notice her tears trailing after her as she pushed her way into the antechamber of the auditorium, a foyer leading down to the Capital streets below.
It was not until she pushed through the door and into the open, sun-kissed sandy street that anyone bothered to call out for her. One of the front office clerks – a nosy little woman who stank of cheese – shouted for her to turn back.
Marcilia ignored their cries.
They wouldn't understand.
The girl soldiered on through the city street, bypassing a shiny new security checkpoint issuing orders to those who wished to pass. They ignored her and those who passed it on this side, and she was grateful to find a sand-covered bench in the shade, tucked away from prying eyes.
Marcilia had no one to talk to.
The device in her bag, a communicator terminal that could easily reach Horatio or Jula, felt immensely heavy. She considered pulling it out but instead let it rest, too tired and emotional to think about what to do.
Her… her family was gone.
She tried to dry her tears, but the wetness only brought forth the memory of her eldest sister's open chest wound she'd tried to hold shut, the warmth of her life pulsing through her fingers and dripping onto their mother's favorite rug.
Her Exception – if she'd had it then, maybe Lugilla would be alive.
Maybe…
Maybe a lot of people would be alive.
The vibration of the comm terminal in her bag against her hip cut through her thoughts. Fingers wet with tears, she pulled the large device and frowned at the live video feed of Horatio. Oil smears covered the elder Osmosian's scarred face, and a storage warehouse of tools stretched behind him.
"Marce, you can't just-"
"Come get me."
The man hesitated.
"You can't make me go back there t-today."
Horatio's lip tightened. "Marcilia, this is a good thing. Normalcy. It's -"
"Bad!"
"You must give it a chance-"
"I have, Horatio," she countered, a sob pouring through. "All those girls do, those kids do, is make me think about the stuff I wanna forget. Please come get me."
The girls were the worst.
The ones who hadn't seen war.
The ones who'd benefitted from the Capital avoiding direct conflict.
The ones who still had sisters, and brothers, and cousins, and parents.
"I cannot, in good mind, allow you to do this."
Marcilia froze, a post forming in her mind. The… There was no way he was going to -
"Let me go to the hospital then."
"You must go back to the Academy. You need to see-"
She stopped listening but did not end the call.
Marcilia considered the street, where she would need to go, what she would need to do.
The school would send someone to find her. She did not have much time.
Marcilia pushed herself to her feet, stashed the shut-down terminal into her bag, and then scurried northward.
The packed hospital – still overstuffed with people suffering war injuries – was so desperate for someone with a healing Exception, even someone as young as her, that one of the nurses escorted her back with very little fanfare to a patient who'd suffered a direct hit from a Reach plasma staff. Half the woman's face was covered in thick bandages, seeping with bodily fluids and healing medicines.
Marcilia focused on what she could, even as the nurse tried to tell her that she cannot blame herself when the Exception did not work quickly, immediately, or at all.
"This might itch," she said to the somewhat conscious woman below her fingers, tracing the burn wounds. "Tell me about your family."
Marcilia did not feel jealous as the woman described cousins. A niece. A nephew. Three young children. Two doting parents. A quartet of siblings. A half-delirious description of their careers, their own families, their names later, and Marcilia's Exception began to work.
She didn't know how it all worked. Something about body parts shifting from one place to another to spark healing. The stitching and shuffling of the woman's healthy flesh into unhealthy flesh was hard for her to watch, but Marcilia did not mind.
She was helping someone.
She had done this before – one of the nurses frantically raced toward the room when they realized she was here, and she was ushered from one room to the next.
Every ache, every bruise, every broken bone was another moment she did not have to think about the life she'd lost. About the school she did no want to attend, about the family she missed, about the peace that felt unearned.
Marcilia would come to realize that she was just as wounded as these patients were, yet she did not have a scratch on her.
That first scene was brought to you by coffee, the end of Agatha All Along, and beginning the first draft of this chapter on Halloween. Do not assume anything too crazy about those cameos, but don't not assume it.
Oof, now that segment gave me flashbacks to reading Catcher in the Rye in high school, all it needed where some "phony"s. Goddamned teenagers never change.
I think it's only fair that if someone thinks the book is decent but still leaves, he explains his reasoning:
My biggest gripe with the story is that SI tag never plays any role aside from annoying the reader. Every action the MC takes, while still on starting planet (up until including scarlet beetle fight with his mother), is something that could easily be seen done by any hyperactive, smart, adventurous kid in DC. His every action screams childish, in no way is his knowledge used to impact the story asides from just displaying how no adult would actually act like that. He expects to be treated as adult, but never displays any adult quality asides from acting like a know-it-all (which children tend to do).
It also doesn't seem he has knowledge on DC universe or Ben 10 universe as he doesn't even try to connect dots to a possible fantasy setting.
The worst problem is that every action he takes could be disastrous to his family. Thinks his parents are spies? - tries to expose them, not thinking of the consequences of doing so might put them in danger.
Then the constant insistance of childishly arguing he is an adult.Without ever showing tact and throwing tantrums to get his way.
Then the rushing headfirst in danger and putting everyone in more danger. Not thinking like an adult should.
Then the fact his peers seem to be around his own mental development if less book smart.
All in all, if you said the MC was a child OC with no prievious knowledge, I would find nothing wrong with it.
As such, it makes it hard to read when you keep expecting a grown man to know better and the story would have been better if he was not a reincarnation.
My biggest gripe with the story is that SI tag never plays any role aside from annoying the reader. Every action the MC takes, while still on starting planet (up until including scarlet beetle fight with his mother), is something that could easily be seen done by any hyperactive, smart, adventurous kid in DC. His every action screams childish, in no way is his knowledge used to impact the story asides from just displaying how no adult would actually act like that. He expects to be treated as adult, but never displays any adult quality asides from acting like a know-it-all (which children tend to do).
It also doesn't seem he has knowledge on DC universe or Ben 10 universe as he doesn't even try to connect dots to a possible fantasy setting.
The worst problem is that every action he takes could be disastrous to his family. Thinks his parents are spies? - tries to expose them, not thinking of the consequences of doing so might put them in danger.
Then the constant insistance of childishly arguing he is an adult.Without ever showing tact and throwing tantrums to get his way.
Then the rushing headfirst in danger and putting everyone in more danger. Not thinking like an adult should.
Then the fact his peers seem to be around his own mental development if less book smart.
All in all, if you said the MC was a child OC with no prievious knowledge, I would find nothing wrong with it.
As such, it makes it hard to read when you keep expecting a grown man to know better and the story would have been better if he was not a reincarnation.
Last edited:
2.1
- Location
- Alabama
SECTOR HOUSE 2814
JULY 4, 11:16 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Finding the names and faces of Intergang's top leadership was actually strangely easy, given vague recollections from the comics and the right Internet searches. Add in information from Gabriel's own connections, and I knew of two major names: Bruno Manheim and Whisper A'Daire. The former was the one I recognized from the comics, or maybe the cartoons – he was little more than a street thug type in the stories I rremembered. A'Daire was a complete unknown, and all we could find of her records were scattered references to her high school attendance in a New Jersey suburb and a career connection profile online that had not been updated since 2007.
Wild that 2007 was only three years ago in this world.
Manheim was more prolific – street addresses, a business license, and a phone plan for a Lex-brand smart phone that was likely a burner. Kyle had commented that this could easily be just another alias, rather than a proper name, but I did not have enough to guess.
I had checked the addresses. I had pinged the smart phone. I had scoured social media – nothing concrete, but I had taken dozens of photographs of the empty warehouse and abandoned apartment in case I might find something later. Bruno Manheim, for all conventional means of investigation, was a ghost, and A'Daire was even more obscure.
"Other known associates?" I finally had asked Gabriel, but the Plumber had little to connect the dots to anyone else. "What about specific brands of tech? Could we track alloys or maybe energy signatures?"
"That is a good idea," the man had agreed. "I'll run potential options through the records I have of past dealings, even potentially sealed court documents. Someone will illuminate an avenue to pursue."
"Why can't you just wait for them to move?" Kyle had asked, while he had adjusted a bandage on his lower hip from his latest implant.
"Not how I like to do things, if I can help it," I had argued. "I do not like the mentality that we should passively wait for crimes to happen. We know Intergang are up to shady business somewhere, we merely have to find them."
It was not like we were punishing them for things they had yet to do. Their work gave them an intergalactic and Earthbound rap sheet a mile long.
When it was clear that nothing new was going to happen yet again, Gabriel had shrugged it all off. "Nothing we can do immediately. In America, it's the Fourth of July. Celebrates the country's independence from its former leader. Go have some fun, take a rest. Kyle and I are going to spend some time with his mother, if you wanted to-"
I had shaken my head immediately. "No, thanks. Appreciate the offer, but I have some patrolling to do. Big holidays are bound to bring out the crazies."
The father and son duo – present and future Plumber – had relented the point eventually and had allowed me to leave the Sector House and fly back to Earth to enjoy the festivities in my own way.
Even in my first life, holidays that were not Christmas, Thanksgiving, or Halloween did not resonate with me. On Osmos V, what holidays we celebrated were hard to really grasp as well, because I felt not Osmosian. Now, I had the chance to enjoy watching someone explode hundreds of dollars worth of work for a fifteen-second light show, but was that really worth it?
I did have the opportunity to see a fireworks show in a major city, this time. What better place than Washington D.C. to celebrate? At the end of the day, fireworks were fireworks, but I could enjoy a patriotic song or two in the nation's capital. That was a unique experience for me in either lifetime.
Hmm.
I could go anywhere, do anything.
What would Ramadan feel like overseas? Saint Patrick's Day in Ireland? Valentine's Day in Paris or Venice? And, well, what kind of holidays do the Martians celebrate?
I made a mental note to experience those holidays at some point. For now, as I flew back to Earth with no new answers about Intergang in tow, I angled not for New York City but instead for Washington D.C. I'd keep my eyes and ears open for any sign of trouble, but I really wanted to a barbecue sandwich, a big bucket of chili fries, and a tub of ice cream to wash it all down. A nice meal and a fun light show were on the menu for the day.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 16:48 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Troia wished she knew exactly where she went wrong. Stuck in the embassy with a pile of study materials in front of her, she lightly blasphemed against Hephaestus that anything remotely resembling the modern education system of Man's World had been invented.
Not that he was likely the one who inspired such a system, but she was frustrated enough to blame someone regardless.
Etta Candy – a dark-skinned rather plump woman with a pixie cut and a pinstripe pant suit that revealed her advanced age – filtered yet another phone call away to the correct person on staff before clearing her throat. "Troia, dear, I think it would do you well to take a break."
The woman leaned over the counter in front of her desk to survey the stack of books stretched across Troia's tabletop. Three notebooks were open to various pages, while notes were scrawled in English, Latin, and Greek across the margins and within the lines. Troia wrote notes in triplicate, one per language, in the hopes that it would help solidify the history of modern American hegemony into her mind.
"I can't afford to wait, Etta," Troia said with a frustrated sigh. "There are only two weeks before the Fall semester entrance exams. I have to get in. If I don't, then the Queen won't let me stay."
Etta clapped her hand. "Dear, you've been writing so long that even your pretty little fingers are cramped. A break until tomorrow would be best."
Troia denied the situation again. "You don't get it."
"No, I do. I once put all of my eggs into one unreasonable basket – so to speak," the secretary replied.
"What happened?"
A proud little smile stretched across the elderly woman's face. "I became your elder sister's closest confidante and worked to advocate for the Amazons in the United States." The woman cleared her throat. "As glamorous and as easy as that sounds, it was anything but, dear. I put my own life, my own decisions on hold to follow her. The fact that my life is richer for it now is a plus, but I'd do it all again even if I became destitute and failed on behalf of Themiscyra to help relations."
Troia had no clue what to say to that, and every response she considered in her head sounded wrong. Finally, she said, "Do you think I will fail?"
The secretary blushed. "N-no, dear. All I am suggesting is that having a back-up plan is a surefire way to stay invested in the route of your future. If you do not get to enroll at this particular school, there are more ways to appease the Queen."
Troia supposed that made sense. At the end of the day, she likely would nor learn anything she did not know that would stick with her. No, instead she was there for the chance to stay long term in Man's World. She detested the place and what it historically stood for, but she could see beyond the propaganda to know that there must be some merit. The "evils of men" were certainly present, but not as pervasive as her tutors Phillippa or Artemis wished her to believe.
"This is my best chance right now," she argued, but Etta wasn't having it.
"Ma'am, you must know that you'll live indefinitely. Why the rush?"
Troia pursed her lips. "Etta, please just leave it well enough alone."
The woman paused, considering. "A coffee break, then?"
Troia's eyes glimmered at the opportunity. "I know just the place for it, then."
Minutes later and with the phone lines redirected to voicemail, Troia led Etta Candy to the rooftop of the embassy. Each carried a large thermos in their hand filled with the closest thing to nectar the mortals would ever produce. They sat companionably on the edge of the roof, several stories above the sidewalk, and had a fascinating view of the city skyline from here.
"Don't you wish you could only see the world from up here?" Troia asked, earning a head tilt from the elderly secretary.
"I imagine it looks even more differently while flying under your own power," Etta said with a chuckle. "You and Diana are quite lucky in that regard."
The Amazon glanced downward to study the pedestrians who carried on with their business, day in and day out. From here, the mortal men and women of Man's World were little different from her own people. Less clean overall, perhaps - and twice as male. From this vantage point, she could almost entirely ignore the moral depravity – only almost, though, because there were all manner of alarms, sirens, and police lights in the distance.
Troia must have stared in that direction for too long because Etta cleared her throat. "You can go there, you know."
The eternal teenager pulled out of her reverie. "Hmm? – oh, no. I couldn't. After the last time, that would be a mista-"
"After you successfully ensured the Parthenon would have a future?" Etta pressed. "Whether you were there or not, that monument was the target. Was it coincidence you were there?"
That was the question that worried her.
Had she merely been in the right place at the right time? Had the Angler planned for her to be there? Had one of the Olympians meant for her involvement?
…
Did one of them intend for her to rush off in the distance toward the emergency?
Troia had almost made up her mind – had almost refused the call – when she spotted the smoke rising on the horizon. She met Etta's gaze and then nodded once, rising into the air and flying swiftly toward the danger. Troia did not miss the proud smile on the woman's face as she turned toward the horizon.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 15:56 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I stretched my fingers and joints then my shoulders. I'd expected nothing more than the usual smoke in the air after a grand fireworks display in the capital. What I had not expected at all were a series of emergency first responders running interference after an explosion rocked a building a block away from the Potomac. The column of smoke that rose into the late afternoon air was quite spectacular, and I was glad to have arrived quickly enough in the process before every government agency sent response teams to investigate its potential source.
I approached the building from the air, touching down upon the sidewalk nearest to the front entrance. The eastern side of the building was wrecked – they were lucky that its structure was overall sturdy, but every window had shattered under the heat and flames licked at the air outside and belched smoke. Several firetruck teams were already hard at work, and more would be on the way within the half-hour.
I approached the lead of the nearest team quickly, mask uncovered at the moment while he prepped to potentially enter the building and evacuate if needed. He immediately barked for me to stay back, but I ignored him and lightly lifted off the ground.
"Anyone still inside?"
"We, uh, got a list of personnel on site," the portly man finally stated. "Most off for the Fourth, or this would be much worse. Y-you going in?"
"Yep. No special firefighting powers, but I can fly people in and out." I gripped the truck and formed a metal armor over my skin. "Know how it started?"
The man merely stared at me with wide eyes like saucers for a long moment and then shook his head, recovering. One of his crews angled down the hose in shock at seeing me, spraying the side of the building uselessly before re-aiming properly.
"Labs like this? It's usually an electrical fire from malfunctioning equipment or improper storage of chemicals."
I glanced toward the sky and pointed. "I imagine it would be far easier to put out if it was just some idiot with a firework?"
He lightly shrugged. "Probably. Listen, be careful. In and out. You still gotta breathe, right?"
I just laughed and zipped up into the air, holding my breath indefinitely. The worst the smoke could do to me was limit visibility. As far as I was concerned, the fire itself wasn't the challenge for me but getting anyone out was, and I angled toward the open window of this Cadmu-
Cadmus.
Oh. Fuck.
I was in Washington D.C., and all I could think about was the season-long conspiracy against superheroes featured in Justice League Unlimited. A government agency that wished for the downfall of the heroic hubris of characters like Superman, one that Amanda Waller, Wade Eiling, and Emil Hamilton ultimately engineered to take down the League. They mass-produced clones as weapons, ferretted away secret plots and experiments like Doomsday, and crafted narratives to ensure that the public did not trust the Justice League.
The scariest part?
They won.
Not in a direct, "arrest all the heroes" sort of way, but in the court of public opinion. The League had had to change its mode of conduct to appease the masses, operate more in the open, and dismantle the Watchtower.
As bad as all of that was to think about, simply seeing the name of that organization on the side of this building – a damn genetics lab, no less – had me worried about what I was going to walk into. There had to be some mad science down there. If I cracked the case, then that's another feather in my cap to prove to the League my cooperation and merit.
I raced into the building and called out for any who needed my assistance, ignoring the way the heat licked at my metallic armor. The layers of water on the floors and walls were depriving fires of their oxygen, and eventually, they'd succeed. I could speed up the process by simply absorbing the raw kinetic energy of the heat, but I'd just as likely lose my inhibitions as the power supercharged me. I did not need to lose my head in all of this, especially if this Cadmus was as deep as the JLU cartoon.
I'd keep it as a last resort if things got worse.
A pair of researchers were trapped behind burning wreckage, and it was easy to lift it out of the way and give them room to flee. Directly touching hot flames stung even through the metal armor, but it was little more than pain I could endure.
They coughed through the smoke, covering their mouths with their lab coats and dashed toward the nearest exit. I followed them but had to leave them behind when I spotted more survivors, and within two minutes, I'd saved a half-dozen employees without fanfare. Depositing the latest of them on the lawn outside, I raced back inside for more and nearly flew right into someone I did not expect at all to see.
"Kid Flash?"
The yellow-suited speedster grinned and offered a fist bump, which I accepted if only out of shock. What was he doing out of Central City?
"Don't have time to talk – gotta clear the rest of this place out," he said simply, pulling down goggles over his eyes. He vibrating his hand in front of his face so fast I couldn't track it, creating a funnel of clean air around his head. "Help the others!"
He zipped away before I could ask whom he meant. Was the Flash here?
Surprisingly, it was Aqualad of all people I saw next, dousing flames by directing the firetrucks' jets of water using his water bearers. It was impressive to see his tattoos alit as he directed their flow, and I felt the tension of the ongoing fire threat slowly fade with him around.
Was it fair to think of him in Pokémon terms?
"Aqualad, you're here too."
The last I saw him was in the Indian Ocean, stopping an undersea threat from harming delicate international nuclear peace.
"It is a surprise to see you again, Cassian, but not an unwelcome one," the Atlantean stated, powering down his magic and holstering his tools. "Did a fire in another city interest you so much?"
"I could ask you the same thing," I redirected. "I came to D.C. for this holiday. Didn't expect this would be how I spent it."
"Truthfully, neither did I," Aqualad answered. "Robin, Kid Flash, and I-"
Robin was here too?
"- came to investigate this fire at Cadmus, a research lab that the Batman has been investigating for months."
Oh, hearing that confirmed my suspicions that this was a big damned deal.
The Boy Wonder and the Fastest Kid Alive appeared at the edge of the fire-singed room. "Building's clear," the latter said with a thumb to his chest.
"Cassian, fancy seeing you here."
These three sidekicks were in one place at one time, something that may never have happened before. The only one missing was Speedy. I couldn't help but articulate that thought, but Kid Flash exaggeratedly sighed. "I don't know what's going on with Speedy. He might have been here with us too, but he… walked out on us earlier."
At that, I got a quick run-down of what had happened earlier – the parts Robin thought I should know. The sidekicks were supposed to be taking the next steps on their journeys as League members and see the Hall of Justice for the first time. During the meeting, Speedy stormed off because they weren't being treated to the whole truth, whatever that meant. The meeting ultimately ended abruptly when the League had to rush to stop a major supervillain threat, but not before learning of this fire at Cadmus.
"So the three of you decided to disobey Batman and investigate this?"
Robin sheepishly grinned. "When you put it like that, it sounds worse than it is, but he didn't explicitly say not to look into Cadmus."
I couldn't help but laugh at the logic, but I wouldn't turn down the help. "Well, I wanna see what's going on here too. If Batman's got his eyes on this place, then there's bound to be something bad happening."
Robin tensed before he could respond, and the eyes behind his mask were not looking at me but instead over my shoulder. I turned, surprised to see the familiar face of the Amazonian who could easily one day be Wonder Woman's sidekick. She eased into the room from the windowsill.
"I want in, too." I waved at her, and she waved back a little uncertainly.
Kid Flash chuckled, though his eyes did not leave the elder teenager. Dressed in civvies, she was the most out of place visually, but I knew she fit in comfortably with respect to skills. His face was somewhat red beneath his mask. "Is anyone else gonna pop up to join us?"
JULY 4, 11:16 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Finding the names and faces of Intergang's top leadership was actually strangely easy, given vague recollections from the comics and the right Internet searches. Add in information from Gabriel's own connections, and I knew of two major names: Bruno Manheim and Whisper A'Daire. The former was the one I recognized from the comics, or maybe the cartoons – he was little more than a street thug type in the stories I rremembered. A'Daire was a complete unknown, and all we could find of her records were scattered references to her high school attendance in a New Jersey suburb and a career connection profile online that had not been updated since 2007.
Wild that 2007 was only three years ago in this world.
Manheim was more prolific – street addresses, a business license, and a phone plan for a Lex-brand smart phone that was likely a burner. Kyle had commented that this could easily be just another alias, rather than a proper name, but I did not have enough to guess.
I had checked the addresses. I had pinged the smart phone. I had scoured social media – nothing concrete, but I had taken dozens of photographs of the empty warehouse and abandoned apartment in case I might find something later. Bruno Manheim, for all conventional means of investigation, was a ghost, and A'Daire was even more obscure.
"Other known associates?" I finally had asked Gabriel, but the Plumber had little to connect the dots to anyone else. "What about specific brands of tech? Could we track alloys or maybe energy signatures?"
"That is a good idea," the man had agreed. "I'll run potential options through the records I have of past dealings, even potentially sealed court documents. Someone will illuminate an avenue to pursue."
"Why can't you just wait for them to move?" Kyle had asked, while he had adjusted a bandage on his lower hip from his latest implant.
"Not how I like to do things, if I can help it," I had argued. "I do not like the mentality that we should passively wait for crimes to happen. We know Intergang are up to shady business somewhere, we merely have to find them."
It was not like we were punishing them for things they had yet to do. Their work gave them an intergalactic and Earthbound rap sheet a mile long.
When it was clear that nothing new was going to happen yet again, Gabriel had shrugged it all off. "Nothing we can do immediately. In America, it's the Fourth of July. Celebrates the country's independence from its former leader. Go have some fun, take a rest. Kyle and I are going to spend some time with his mother, if you wanted to-"
I had shaken my head immediately. "No, thanks. Appreciate the offer, but I have some patrolling to do. Big holidays are bound to bring out the crazies."
The father and son duo – present and future Plumber – had relented the point eventually and had allowed me to leave the Sector House and fly back to Earth to enjoy the festivities in my own way.
Even in my first life, holidays that were not Christmas, Thanksgiving, or Halloween did not resonate with me. On Osmos V, what holidays we celebrated were hard to really grasp as well, because I felt not Osmosian. Now, I had the chance to enjoy watching someone explode hundreds of dollars worth of work for a fifteen-second light show, but was that really worth it?
I did have the opportunity to see a fireworks show in a major city, this time. What better place than Washington D.C. to celebrate? At the end of the day, fireworks were fireworks, but I could enjoy a patriotic song or two in the nation's capital. That was a unique experience for me in either lifetime.
Hmm.
I could go anywhere, do anything.
What would Ramadan feel like overseas? Saint Patrick's Day in Ireland? Valentine's Day in Paris or Venice? And, well, what kind of holidays do the Martians celebrate?
I made a mental note to experience those holidays at some point. For now, as I flew back to Earth with no new answers about Intergang in tow, I angled not for New York City but instead for Washington D.C. I'd keep my eyes and ears open for any sign of trouble, but I really wanted to a barbecue sandwich, a big bucket of chili fries, and a tub of ice cream to wash it all down. A nice meal and a fun light show were on the menu for the day.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 16:48 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Troia wished she knew exactly where she went wrong. Stuck in the embassy with a pile of study materials in front of her, she lightly blasphemed against Hephaestus that anything remotely resembling the modern education system of Man's World had been invented.
Not that he was likely the one who inspired such a system, but she was frustrated enough to blame someone regardless.
Etta Candy – a dark-skinned rather plump woman with a pixie cut and a pinstripe pant suit that revealed her advanced age – filtered yet another phone call away to the correct person on staff before clearing her throat. "Troia, dear, I think it would do you well to take a break."
The woman leaned over the counter in front of her desk to survey the stack of books stretched across Troia's tabletop. Three notebooks were open to various pages, while notes were scrawled in English, Latin, and Greek across the margins and within the lines. Troia wrote notes in triplicate, one per language, in the hopes that it would help solidify the history of modern American hegemony into her mind.
"I can't afford to wait, Etta," Troia said with a frustrated sigh. "There are only two weeks before the Fall semester entrance exams. I have to get in. If I don't, then the Queen won't let me stay."
Etta clapped her hand. "Dear, you've been writing so long that even your pretty little fingers are cramped. A break until tomorrow would be best."
Troia denied the situation again. "You don't get it."
"No, I do. I once put all of my eggs into one unreasonable basket – so to speak," the secretary replied.
"What happened?"
A proud little smile stretched across the elderly woman's face. "I became your elder sister's closest confidante and worked to advocate for the Amazons in the United States." The woman cleared her throat. "As glamorous and as easy as that sounds, it was anything but, dear. I put my own life, my own decisions on hold to follow her. The fact that my life is richer for it now is a plus, but I'd do it all again even if I became destitute and failed on behalf of Themiscyra to help relations."
Troia had no clue what to say to that, and every response she considered in her head sounded wrong. Finally, she said, "Do you think I will fail?"
The secretary blushed. "N-no, dear. All I am suggesting is that having a back-up plan is a surefire way to stay invested in the route of your future. If you do not get to enroll at this particular school, there are more ways to appease the Queen."
Troia supposed that made sense. At the end of the day, she likely would nor learn anything she did not know that would stick with her. No, instead she was there for the chance to stay long term in Man's World. She detested the place and what it historically stood for, but she could see beyond the propaganda to know that there must be some merit. The "evils of men" were certainly present, but not as pervasive as her tutors Phillippa or Artemis wished her to believe.
"This is my best chance right now," she argued, but Etta wasn't having it.
"Ma'am, you must know that you'll live indefinitely. Why the rush?"
Troia pursed her lips. "Etta, please just leave it well enough alone."
The woman paused, considering. "A coffee break, then?"
Troia's eyes glimmered at the opportunity. "I know just the place for it, then."
Minutes later and with the phone lines redirected to voicemail, Troia led Etta Candy to the rooftop of the embassy. Each carried a large thermos in their hand filled with the closest thing to nectar the mortals would ever produce. They sat companionably on the edge of the roof, several stories above the sidewalk, and had a fascinating view of the city skyline from here.
"Don't you wish you could only see the world from up here?" Troia asked, earning a head tilt from the elderly secretary.
"I imagine it looks even more differently while flying under your own power," Etta said with a chuckle. "You and Diana are quite lucky in that regard."
The Amazon glanced downward to study the pedestrians who carried on with their business, day in and day out. From here, the mortal men and women of Man's World were little different from her own people. Less clean overall, perhaps - and twice as male. From this vantage point, she could almost entirely ignore the moral depravity – only almost, though, because there were all manner of alarms, sirens, and police lights in the distance.
Troia must have stared in that direction for too long because Etta cleared her throat. "You can go there, you know."
The eternal teenager pulled out of her reverie. "Hmm? – oh, no. I couldn't. After the last time, that would be a mista-"
"After you successfully ensured the Parthenon would have a future?" Etta pressed. "Whether you were there or not, that monument was the target. Was it coincidence you were there?"
That was the question that worried her.
Had she merely been in the right place at the right time? Had the Angler planned for her to be there? Had one of the Olympians meant for her involvement?
…
Did one of them intend for her to rush off in the distance toward the emergency?
Troia had almost made up her mind – had almost refused the call – when she spotted the smoke rising on the horizon. She met Etta's gaze and then nodded once, rising into the air and flying swiftly toward the danger. Troia did not miss the proud smile on the woman's face as she turned toward the horizon.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 15:56 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I stretched my fingers and joints then my shoulders. I'd expected nothing more than the usual smoke in the air after a grand fireworks display in the capital. What I had not expected at all were a series of emergency first responders running interference after an explosion rocked a building a block away from the Potomac. The column of smoke that rose into the late afternoon air was quite spectacular, and I was glad to have arrived quickly enough in the process before every government agency sent response teams to investigate its potential source.
I approached the building from the air, touching down upon the sidewalk nearest to the front entrance. The eastern side of the building was wrecked – they were lucky that its structure was overall sturdy, but every window had shattered under the heat and flames licked at the air outside and belched smoke. Several firetruck teams were already hard at work, and more would be on the way within the half-hour.
I approached the lead of the nearest team quickly, mask uncovered at the moment while he prepped to potentially enter the building and evacuate if needed. He immediately barked for me to stay back, but I ignored him and lightly lifted off the ground.
"Anyone still inside?"
"We, uh, got a list of personnel on site," the portly man finally stated. "Most off for the Fourth, or this would be much worse. Y-you going in?"
"Yep. No special firefighting powers, but I can fly people in and out." I gripped the truck and formed a metal armor over my skin. "Know how it started?"
The man merely stared at me with wide eyes like saucers for a long moment and then shook his head, recovering. One of his crews angled down the hose in shock at seeing me, spraying the side of the building uselessly before re-aiming properly.
"Labs like this? It's usually an electrical fire from malfunctioning equipment or improper storage of chemicals."
I glanced toward the sky and pointed. "I imagine it would be far easier to put out if it was just some idiot with a firework?"
He lightly shrugged. "Probably. Listen, be careful. In and out. You still gotta breathe, right?"
I just laughed and zipped up into the air, holding my breath indefinitely. The worst the smoke could do to me was limit visibility. As far as I was concerned, the fire itself wasn't the challenge for me but getting anyone out was, and I angled toward the open window of this Cadmu-
Cadmus.
Oh. Fuck.
I was in Washington D.C., and all I could think about was the season-long conspiracy against superheroes featured in Justice League Unlimited. A government agency that wished for the downfall of the heroic hubris of characters like Superman, one that Amanda Waller, Wade Eiling, and Emil Hamilton ultimately engineered to take down the League. They mass-produced clones as weapons, ferretted away secret plots and experiments like Doomsday, and crafted narratives to ensure that the public did not trust the Justice League.
The scariest part?
They won.
Not in a direct, "arrest all the heroes" sort of way, but in the court of public opinion. The League had had to change its mode of conduct to appease the masses, operate more in the open, and dismantle the Watchtower.
As bad as all of that was to think about, simply seeing the name of that organization on the side of this building – a damn genetics lab, no less – had me worried about what I was going to walk into. There had to be some mad science down there. If I cracked the case, then that's another feather in my cap to prove to the League my cooperation and merit.
I raced into the building and called out for any who needed my assistance, ignoring the way the heat licked at my metallic armor. The layers of water on the floors and walls were depriving fires of their oxygen, and eventually, they'd succeed. I could speed up the process by simply absorbing the raw kinetic energy of the heat, but I'd just as likely lose my inhibitions as the power supercharged me. I did not need to lose my head in all of this, especially if this Cadmus was as deep as the JLU cartoon.
I'd keep it as a last resort if things got worse.
A pair of researchers were trapped behind burning wreckage, and it was easy to lift it out of the way and give them room to flee. Directly touching hot flames stung even through the metal armor, but it was little more than pain I could endure.
They coughed through the smoke, covering their mouths with their lab coats and dashed toward the nearest exit. I followed them but had to leave them behind when I spotted more survivors, and within two minutes, I'd saved a half-dozen employees without fanfare. Depositing the latest of them on the lawn outside, I raced back inside for more and nearly flew right into someone I did not expect at all to see.
"Kid Flash?"
The yellow-suited speedster grinned and offered a fist bump, which I accepted if only out of shock. What was he doing out of Central City?
"Don't have time to talk – gotta clear the rest of this place out," he said simply, pulling down goggles over his eyes. He vibrating his hand in front of his face so fast I couldn't track it, creating a funnel of clean air around his head. "Help the others!"
He zipped away before I could ask whom he meant. Was the Flash here?
Surprisingly, it was Aqualad of all people I saw next, dousing flames by directing the firetrucks' jets of water using his water bearers. It was impressive to see his tattoos alit as he directed their flow, and I felt the tension of the ongoing fire threat slowly fade with him around.
Was it fair to think of him in Pokémon terms?
"Aqualad, you're here too."
The last I saw him was in the Indian Ocean, stopping an undersea threat from harming delicate international nuclear peace.
"It is a surprise to see you again, Cassian, but not an unwelcome one," the Atlantean stated, powering down his magic and holstering his tools. "Did a fire in another city interest you so much?"
"I could ask you the same thing," I redirected. "I came to D.C. for this holiday. Didn't expect this would be how I spent it."
"Truthfully, neither did I," Aqualad answered. "Robin, Kid Flash, and I-"
Robin was here too?
"- came to investigate this fire at Cadmus, a research lab that the Batman has been investigating for months."
Oh, hearing that confirmed my suspicions that this was a big damned deal.
The Boy Wonder and the Fastest Kid Alive appeared at the edge of the fire-singed room. "Building's clear," the latter said with a thumb to his chest.
"Cassian, fancy seeing you here."
These three sidekicks were in one place at one time, something that may never have happened before. The only one missing was Speedy. I couldn't help but articulate that thought, but Kid Flash exaggeratedly sighed. "I don't know what's going on with Speedy. He might have been here with us too, but he… walked out on us earlier."
At that, I got a quick run-down of what had happened earlier – the parts Robin thought I should know. The sidekicks were supposed to be taking the next steps on their journeys as League members and see the Hall of Justice for the first time. During the meeting, Speedy stormed off because they weren't being treated to the whole truth, whatever that meant. The meeting ultimately ended abruptly when the League had to rush to stop a major supervillain threat, but not before learning of this fire at Cadmus.
"So the three of you decided to disobey Batman and investigate this?"
Robin sheepishly grinned. "When you put it like that, it sounds worse than it is, but he didn't explicitly say not to look into Cadmus."
I couldn't help but laugh at the logic, but I wouldn't turn down the help. "Well, I wanna see what's going on here too. If Batman's got his eyes on this place, then there's bound to be something bad happening."
Robin tensed before he could respond, and the eyes behind his mask were not looking at me but instead over my shoulder. I turned, surprised to see the familiar face of the Amazonian who could easily one day be Wonder Woman's sidekick. She eased into the room from the windowsill.
"I want in, too." I waved at her, and she waved back a little uncertainly.
Kid Flash chuckled, though his eyes did not leave the elder teenager. Dressed in civvies, she was the most out of place visually, but I knew she fit in comfortably with respect to skills. His face was somewhat red beneath his mask. "Is anyone else gonna pop up to join us?"
2.2
- Location
- Alabama
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 16:59 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I relied on access to the Sector House AI whenever I needed to do anything tech-related, filtered through the Plumber Badge and usually requiring a "man in the chair" on the other side to direct the information the AI could provide. The small amount of intelligence the computer systems could provide paled in comparison to other sophisticated AI technologies in fiction, but it was a resource I could use while in the field.
With no one on duty at the Sector House, I could do nothing to assist Robin with immediately accessing the internal secrets of the first computers we saw. The kid's fingers flew across the keyboard, interfacing his own wrist computer with the device using something as simple as a USB cable or maybe a SATA cable. Watching him work was genuinely astounding, and this was not the kind of dedicated hacking that the Sector House could do at all.
"You're a tech wizard."
Robin did not look toward me and raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. This is nothing."
I nodded, noticing almost a clipped tone.
"Any idea what Batman expects us to find?" Troia asked after they – and I, somewhat – caught her up to speed about what we were even doing here.
"Batman doesn't expect us to find anything," Robin corrected as though he'd spoken something poignant. And, well, maybe it was to a certain extent. "We are operating on our own here. On a technicality, a mile wide."
Kid Flash and Aqualad continued one last sweep of the immediately-in-danger side of the building, stopping along the way to stem the flow of the fires such that the crews below could finish the job. When the Atlantean finished, he caught my eye and gestured with a nod of his head over the shoulder.
"There was something strange in the elevator."
Kid Flash zipped closer to look himself, while Robin peeled himself from the monitor. "What kind of sophisticated lab allows an elevator to even work while in a fire?"
"One with something to hide," I finished.
The five of us angled toward the elevator in question. Robin checked the schematics he'd apparently skimmed from the computer systems and confirmed that this access elevator was far too sophisticated to belong in a squat two-story building.
"We going down there?" Troia asked, nerves clearly evident in her posture.
She was physically the strongest of all of us, able to exceed me pound for pound. Maybe not as durable, but I'd still bet on her surviving anything going wrong over any of the others. It was odd to see her so worried, but she hadn't been operating in the field like me nor the others.
"Of course we are," I answered. She swallowed.
When the doors pulled open forcefully, a darkened shaft reinforced with steel on all sides filtered down as far as any of us could see. I pulled a small piece of the drywall away and dropped it down the opening, expecting to hear it finally clink against something far sooner than it did.
"That's easily hundreds of feet down," Kid Flash said after a moment of counting exaggeratedly on his fingers. "How far do we go for something like this?"
"If it was a few stories, I'd say we do a sweep floor by floor," I explained. "Radial pattern, look for anything spectacular, meet back at the shaft if we need to split up. But, well, I didn't expect an underground facility like this could even exist without government approval in the capital of the country. This is massive, and we have to change the approach."
At the suggestion, Aqualad nodded, but it was clear he agreed that that wouldn't work without more information.
"Go down as far as we can go. Get me to a computer terminal in the secret underground complex," Robin suggested. "I can hack their more secure servers and learn every little secret they got. Easy, peasy."
"How fast can you do a sweep of a floor?" I asked, and Kid Flash confidently grinned.
"Oh, I can do it. Not without risk, but I can get eyes on most things before they got time to react to try to stop me," he explained. "No place like this won't have a security team on staff, though, so whatever we do is gonna piss 'em off."
"We move quickly and quietly then," I finally said. "Troia, help me carry the others. We hit the bottom first."
The girl blinked, eyes widening, and then she grasped Robin and Kid Flash beneath either arm effortlessly. The latter was like a lazy sack of amazed potatoes in her grip, but the former never stopped interacting with his wrist computer, which formed a holographic screen above his glove.
I smiled apologetically, lifted Kaldur'ahm onto my back, and then dropped down the shaft, controlling my descent not quite as easily as Troia may have been. Aerosapian flight was built for speed, not grace nor elegance. The Amazon, by contrast, had no difficulty looking like she owned the air, because maybe she did by divine right.
SL2.
SL12.
SL22.
SL32
SL42.
SL51.
We dropped down almost exactly fifty levels before we found the end of the road. The elevator car had stopped just below here, and as far as I could tell, there were fifty-two sublevels. Robin held up a finger before we moved any further, typed on his wrist computer hologram, and somehow deactivated the security protocols.
Aqualad easily yanked open the doorway, and everyone gasped at what we saw. I expected to see an industrial hallway corridor akin to any secret lab in a movie I'd ever watched, with metallic walls or perhaps off-white, beige colors like a sterilized hospital. Instead, it was as though we had entered the belly of the beast.
The walls, ceiling, and floor were covered in – or perhaps were - organic. Living. Flesh. A purple or maroon color, the material bulged and stretched like a deposit of fat or a bit of lumpy skin. Covered in mucus, the place was disgusting and fascinating all at once.
"It's alive," Troia muttered. "What madness is this?" If she was nervous before, she was certainly nervous now.
"I do not know, but we must be vigilant." The Atlantean reached for his water bearers and held them in both hands, at the ready.
"Radio the League?" Kid Flash asked, already reaching for a communicator hidden in his goggles. "I can't connect."
At regular intervals, the walls bulged into fleshy, fluid-filled sacs, a different color and consistency than the rest of the organic walls. There were things inside these pods, things as alien as anything you might expect in outer space. I glanced toward Troia – or perhaps a magical creature?
"Those are… placentas," I said in awe, trailing off at the implications.
Kid Flash rushed into the hallway and ran his finger along the fleshy wall, checking the consistency. He dared not touch one of the pods holding a creature inside, but studied one just the same. "Guys, this isn't a uterus, is it?"
"It may as well be," I finished the thought. "Why – how are they birthing dozens of creatures? What- damn."
The light in the corridor came from industrial lighting that still ran along the walls or ceiling. That meant this was still part of the complex, connected to their machinery and their network.
"My radio has no connection either – communication's jammed," Robin said with frustration. "We're on our own."
"I think this would be a great time to leave," Troia suggested. "You've proven that they're up to something weird. Fly up and out, and the League can take it from here."
I frowned at the suggestion, and I could tell from the rest of the boys's expressions that they were in agreement with me, though for different reasons.
Kid Flash shook his head and spoke what the others were thinking. "If we came this far and didn't at least get more concrete info, then all we did was… kiddie work. Sidekick work."
They were bitter about their conversation with Speedy earlier, clearly. I hadn't witnessed it myself, but it was clear they had some mixed feelings on the Justice League. I wasn't affiliated with them, so my actions here wouldn't piss them off quite as badly as theirs would, but I still wanted their trust.
I tried my own communication, the Plumber Badge easily connecting to the Sector House even from underground. Robin eyed the object in my palm, as I spoke a warning to the AI.
"Field Log – Cassian. July 4th, 2010. I am currently several hundred feet below Washington D.C. in a genetic research lab called Cadmus. They're growing these creatures in a flesh hallway deep underground. Don't know what they are, why they are doing it, but it's decidedly weird."
"Someone will hear that?" Troia asked.
"Not for a while. My mentor and his son are on Earth. The computer will log it, but until one of them hears it, then we are on our own."
It was a lie.
I could have ordered the AI to contact Gabriel, or even contacted his badge myself. The larger reason why I did not was because it was a holiday, and Kyle needed this time with his parents. His life had been strange enough - he'd undergone surgery more than once now to integrate the Plumber tech into his body, and he needed normalcy. The smaller reason why I didn't was because this was an opportunity to work further alongside the next generation of Leaguers. For better or worse, getting integrated into their inner circle would be only beneficial.
If any of them noticed the lie, they did not comment on it. There were more important things to consider, and the speedster itched to run. At my nod, he took off down the hallway to see what he could see, commenting that he'd focus on finding a terminal of some kind for Robin.
The rest of us inched down the hallway after him in comparison. If this were an open-air space, I could get a quick view of the area too. An underground complex just wouldn't facilitate my flight speed, and I certainly couldn't activate hyperspace without a lot of room to move.
The monsters they were crafting had pale white skin, horns, sharpened claws, tails, and resembled vaguely what I thought demons might be. My worry that they may actually be magical creatures came back to the forefront of my mind, and I voiced the concern aloud.
"These aren't demonic, are they? Aliens I'd get. But… the only things they're missing are forked tongues, flames, and red skin."
Aqualad voiced his rejection of that idea. "While I am no generalist, I do not sense any magic in these pods."
I glanced toward the Amazonian, but if she had any insight to the contrary, she did not share it. This group of sidekicks did not have a Raven – no magic expert.
Robin pointed his wrist computer toward them at every turn, recording what data he could on film to dissect later. So far, they had not stirred, but the farther we moved away from the elevator shaft to safety, the worse we-
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Kid Flash tumbled to a stop and tried to kill his momentum with a roll that only left him covered in muck. He wiped his hand across his face as he hurried to his feet, and we rushed to inspect him.
"Some of them are moving ahead. They're weird, and some of them are huge, but they didn't look dangerous. We should, uh, probably leave."
I ignored him and rounded the corner, my thoughts in doubt about what he was even suggesting. There was no way that we-
A trio of the creatures were mammoth in size. Graying skin, covered in spikes, forearms as thick as tree trunks, tusks like an elephant. The massive behemoths moved like a scaly cross between an elephant and a gorilla, and each carried a much smaller, impish creature on their shoulders.
The one in the front of the pack carried two massive storage containers under his arms, the kind of tanks that likely weighed nearly as much as a mid-size sedan. Its buddies were holding tools I couldn't identify, but they were headed toward a much larger chamber around the bend.
The much smaller monsters on their shoulders studied me for a moment, and I barely had time to react before I, too, headed back toward the others.
"We shouldn't be here," I said simply. "This is not worth pursuing."
"We aren't giving up now," Robin declared. He and the others followed around the corner and froze as they spotted the strange creatures.
Ultimately, nothing to worry about.
Nothing to be concerned with.
Nothing at all.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 18:29 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Dr. Desmond put the finishing touches on the latest experimental trial – number thirteen showed the right amount of promise, and while it needed further testing, preliminary examinations proved that this formula may be exactly what the board of Cadmus wanted.
The researcher placed the new test tube with a ready formula for Project: Blockbuster into the correct storage case, to be preserved later. It was an auspicious night to have finished this trial – an explosion on the surface level over their heads might be a mysterious omen of poor things to come, but Desmond was not at all superstitious. No, this was a good night, the product of wonderful scientific breakthroughs.
If things continued at the rate that they did, the projects on the pipeline for the next year were quite astounding indeed. Soon, the geonomorphs would debut on the world stage, and renewed military contracts would put money further into the pockets of Cadmus. They would be cutting edge and elevate humanity to a higher calling, and Dr. Desmond would-
Someone cleared his throat and interrupted the scientist's reverie.
"What is it, Guardian?"
The head of Cadmus security and a product of its own achievements, the uniformed superhero for fire entered the chamber with a G-Gnome on his shoulder. Jim Harper wore his golden helmet and blue body armor proudly, the shield on his arm a brilliantly durable engineering marvel.
"Sorry to interrupt, Doc, but a G-Gnome just reported five intruders on sublevel fifty-one."
Desmond's eyes widened, and he glanced toward the news coverage of the fire above their heads on the monitors lining the walls. He'd been so invested that he hadn't paid it much mind, but now? Now he may be a bit concerned.
"Did I miss a perimeter breach alert?"
Guardian shook his head.
"Then the G-Gnomes are confused," Desmond insisted. "Whatever might occur in our faux lab above ground, the real Cadmus is the most secure facility in D.C."
"My job to keep it that way," Guardian reminded, and Desmond sighed.
"Fine. Take a squad."
Desmond did not hear the footsteps of the first ever genomorph, Dubbilex, entering the chamber. "Might I suggest Guardian leave his G-Gnome behind?"
Desmond whipped around, indignant that the fool of a failed experiment would suggest such a thing. The horned creature was wiry but shorter than Guardian, angular face revealing his modified features. Desmond gestured to the impish mutant on Guardian's shoulder. "No. The advantage of instant telepathic communication outweighs other concerns." Desmond glanced toward his own G-Gnome resting on the table nearby his experiments.
A moment later, and Guardian robotically responded to the telepathic impulses keeping him at their urging. "I need my G-Gnome with me at all times."
Desmond wished Guardian was naturally as invested in the aims of Cadmus as Desmond and the board were, but the hero-for-hire still held a pesky mentality that would reject the status of the lab if he were able to follow his concerns. Mental pacifying was necessary.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 19:41 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Despite the impulse to leave, the rest of the group were unwilling to follow-through. We found ourselves in a secure room, hidden behind a circular access door that only responded to Robin's computer after several tense minutes of hacking. The security encryptions were tighter within this section of the facility, and it was pure luck that we had not tripped an alarm by now.
Or maybe Robin really was that good.
The room itself was filled with storage containers that we'd checked, and ultimately couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Kid Flash took some of the liquid contents to perform some testing later, but I had a feeling that it must be materials for this amniotic fluid. Or perhaps some kind of chemical concoction to make them grow. Whatever it was, we sealed it up to avoid smelling whatever it was and waited for Robin to review the data.
"Genomorphs," he muttered finally as his hologram shifted through to a new screen. "That's what their research notes call them. Genetic organism anomalies they created to have different abilities. It is truly wild."
I couldn't handle the ramifications. They created new organisms? Not just modifying existing ones? I thought of stories where scientists spliced different DNA into a creature – I glanced toward my own hands and nearly gasped at the realization that I had done that.
I had absorbed the DNA of an alien creature and gained its abilities. I already knew that, but realizing it in a different context was what surprised me. How… much of me was Osmosian and how much was Aerophibian?
"Like the Cadmus of myth," Aqualad suggested, earning a look of surprise from Troia. "They created new life by sowing dragon's teeth into the earth."
"You know of the stories?" The Amazon asked, and the teenager from under the sea nodded.
"Of course. Many in Atlantis still hold respect for the Grecian stories of old, and our language evolved from ancient Greek."
Troia nodded in wonder. "These people tread on ground none should dare cross. The Spartoi warriors Cadmus created were so dangerous that he forced them to fight one another until only a few survived."
Robin nodded fervently. "I'd say they are dangerous all right. There are several subspecies of geonomorph, some with control over electricity, telekinesis, elongated claws, increased agility, super strength, telepathy. They're living weapons."
Troia stood more confidently. "We cannot allow them to exist. These weapons are an affront to the gods."
I considered that idea for a second and nodded. "I'm on board. You saw all of those things out there waiting to be born – there were a few dozen on this level alone. Cadmus made an army. Send a few of them to any modern battlefield, and they could change the tide of war anywhere."
I couldn't help but almost admire it. In a sick, twisted way, they were exactly the kind of thing that the Reach would love to use in their conquests. Just like they seeded Osmos V with aliens of other planets to cause mayhem, you could easily drop a few of these mammoth things in a major population center and watch the sparks fly.
"We should not jump to killing them," Aqualad suggested. "That decision is above us."
"My people would never allow these things to exist," Troia argued. "It is an insult, and I would suspect Athena herself would wish them destroyed."
Kid Flash muttered, "They just give me the creeps. Not sure they should die."
Before we could really settle this discussion, Robin continued reading off of the screen. "There's more. We're, uh, one sublevel above their latest big experiment. Something called Project: Kr. It's different from the others but – damn – triple encrypted." He furiously typed, but before he could finish his hack, the door to the room suddenly burst open.
"Don't move!"
A team of lithe, agile genomorphs surrounded a man in uniform I did not recognize, dressed almost like a blue and gold Captain America – but with a golden buckler for a shield instead of a huge circular one. He had one of those impish genomorphs on his shoulder, the same ones that I'd seen on the mammoth ones outside. The smaller forms that ran alongside him were the ones Robin mentioned had sharpened claws, and they outnumbered us two to one.
"Wait – Robin, Aqualad, Kid Flash?" He did not seem to recognize Troia or me, but he stared at us all the same.
"I know you," the Atlantean stated. "Guardian – a hero."
What was a member of the hero community doing working for Cadmus? I remembered Captain Atom worked for the government - and therefore Cadmus – in JLU, but as far as I could tell, Atom was just a Leaguer here.
"I'm chief of security. You're trespassing." He paused. "But we can call the Justice League, figure this out."
Troia's stance shifted slightly. "You approve of this insult against the gods?"
Guardian merely stared at her. "I don't know what you're talking about. Only one God I serve, ma'am."
"I doubt that one would like this either," Kid Flash added. "These are bred to be weapons of war!"
Guardian glanced at the speedster in confusion, and before he could say anything, the genomorph on his shoulder shifted to stare at him, horns slightly glowing in red.
The Cap-analogue's posture shifted immediately to battle. "Take 'em down hard. No mercy!"
Troia and I moved into the air at the same moment that Robin dropped a smoke pellet to fill the chamber. The only exit was the one behind him, so we were cornered, but I doubted three brutes couldn't force the door open. I heard Robin pipeline somewhere above us, and Kid Flash zipped through the room to dodge the sudden genomorph crowd running at us.
I gripped a metal paneling on the side of a storage container, shifting to metal armor, and then raced forward into the fray. A fist impacted hard into Guardian's hastily-risen shield, and I narrowly avoided a trio of the living weapons that leapt for me. One managed to find purchase, a razor-sharp claw scraping through the metal armor and almost piercing into skin. I kicked hard against its chest, sending it flying away with my other leg.
Troia tossed two of them into one another so hard I heard bones crack. She moved with a righteous fury and barreled into two more, ignoring the sweeping tails and fast counterattacks.
Aqualad shouted, "Get the door, Cassian!" and rushed Guardian, water blade weapons in his hands. Trading blows with the subverted hero, I listened to his suggested and sped toward the door.
Kid Flash knocked two of them away that tried to pursue me and nearly missed a third when an acrobatic flip from Robin knocked one of them into the wall several feet away. Within a moment, he was gone into the smoke.
I gripped with my fingers and pulled the heavy door. I struggled against the security measures designed to keep these things as heavy-duty as possible. I wasn't sure exactly what they needed these doors for, unless it was to keep those mammoth things contained. Regardless, they did not budge easily, and I stood a sitting duck for far too long to finally pull it open barely a few feet.
"Now!"
Aqualad kept Guardian busy as Robin swung from his grappel line into the gap and flipped to a stop on the other side. Kid Flash moved so fast he passed into the space a heartbeat later, leaving a trail in the smoke that leaked out. Two of the creatures wrestled Troia, not beating her in strength but becoming difficult for her to maintain her distance from their sharpened claws, and several cuts had already ruined the left leg of her pants from the knee down. A third and fourth recovered and tried to attack her from the back, but a shock of green energy from my eyes sent them flying into the smoke cloud. She managed to make some distance and, face red with fury, finally pulled back as she met my own pleading eyes.
As soon as she was on the other side, I slipped through to the other side and the door slid shut. Robin announced that he'd locked them inside, and all I could think about was that we were trapped on a floor with those massive creatures and who knew how many more potential assailants waiting to be born.
Troia had blood soaking slightly into the fabric of her jeans.
Kid Flash had a rip in his uniform near his upper arm, and it was all he could do to hold the wound while he tried to, hopefully, heal faster than we did.
Robin and Aqualad had not suffered any wound, and my own metal armor had been enough to withstand a grazing slash. A more dedicated attack, more head on, and I bet I would be bleeding too.
"Project: Kr." Aqualad almost whispered the words, his eyes clearly showing the mental struggle in his head. "What is it?"
"Let's find out," I suggested before anyone could argue. "Kid Flash, did you see a stairwell?"
"I think so. It's not far, but we, uh, may need to avoid the big damn things."
"Then that's what we do. We need to move, now."
JULY 4, 16:59 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I relied on access to the Sector House AI whenever I needed to do anything tech-related, filtered through the Plumber Badge and usually requiring a "man in the chair" on the other side to direct the information the AI could provide. The small amount of intelligence the computer systems could provide paled in comparison to other sophisticated AI technologies in fiction, but it was a resource I could use while in the field.
With no one on duty at the Sector House, I could do nothing to assist Robin with immediately accessing the internal secrets of the first computers we saw. The kid's fingers flew across the keyboard, interfacing his own wrist computer with the device using something as simple as a USB cable or maybe a SATA cable. Watching him work was genuinely astounding, and this was not the kind of dedicated hacking that the Sector House could do at all.
"You're a tech wizard."
Robin did not look toward me and raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. This is nothing."
I nodded, noticing almost a clipped tone.
"Any idea what Batman expects us to find?" Troia asked after they – and I, somewhat – caught her up to speed about what we were even doing here.
"Batman doesn't expect us to find anything," Robin corrected as though he'd spoken something poignant. And, well, maybe it was to a certain extent. "We are operating on our own here. On a technicality, a mile wide."
Kid Flash and Aqualad continued one last sweep of the immediately-in-danger side of the building, stopping along the way to stem the flow of the fires such that the crews below could finish the job. When the Atlantean finished, he caught my eye and gestured with a nod of his head over the shoulder.
"There was something strange in the elevator."
Kid Flash zipped closer to look himself, while Robin peeled himself from the monitor. "What kind of sophisticated lab allows an elevator to even work while in a fire?"
"One with something to hide," I finished.
The five of us angled toward the elevator in question. Robin checked the schematics he'd apparently skimmed from the computer systems and confirmed that this access elevator was far too sophisticated to belong in a squat two-story building.
"We going down there?" Troia asked, nerves clearly evident in her posture.
She was physically the strongest of all of us, able to exceed me pound for pound. Maybe not as durable, but I'd still bet on her surviving anything going wrong over any of the others. It was odd to see her so worried, but she hadn't been operating in the field like me nor the others.
"Of course we are," I answered. She swallowed.
When the doors pulled open forcefully, a darkened shaft reinforced with steel on all sides filtered down as far as any of us could see. I pulled a small piece of the drywall away and dropped it down the opening, expecting to hear it finally clink against something far sooner than it did.
"That's easily hundreds of feet down," Kid Flash said after a moment of counting exaggeratedly on his fingers. "How far do we go for something like this?"
"If it was a few stories, I'd say we do a sweep floor by floor," I explained. "Radial pattern, look for anything spectacular, meet back at the shaft if we need to split up. But, well, I didn't expect an underground facility like this could even exist without government approval in the capital of the country. This is massive, and we have to change the approach."
At the suggestion, Aqualad nodded, but it was clear he agreed that that wouldn't work without more information.
"Go down as far as we can go. Get me to a computer terminal in the secret underground complex," Robin suggested. "I can hack their more secure servers and learn every little secret they got. Easy, peasy."
"How fast can you do a sweep of a floor?" I asked, and Kid Flash confidently grinned.
"Oh, I can do it. Not without risk, but I can get eyes on most things before they got time to react to try to stop me," he explained. "No place like this won't have a security team on staff, though, so whatever we do is gonna piss 'em off."
"We move quickly and quietly then," I finally said. "Troia, help me carry the others. We hit the bottom first."
The girl blinked, eyes widening, and then she grasped Robin and Kid Flash beneath either arm effortlessly. The latter was like a lazy sack of amazed potatoes in her grip, but the former never stopped interacting with his wrist computer, which formed a holographic screen above his glove.
I smiled apologetically, lifted Kaldur'ahm onto my back, and then dropped down the shaft, controlling my descent not quite as easily as Troia may have been. Aerosapian flight was built for speed, not grace nor elegance. The Amazon, by contrast, had no difficulty looking like she owned the air, because maybe she did by divine right.
SL2.
SL12.
SL22.
SL32
SL42.
SL51.
We dropped down almost exactly fifty levels before we found the end of the road. The elevator car had stopped just below here, and as far as I could tell, there were fifty-two sublevels. Robin held up a finger before we moved any further, typed on his wrist computer hologram, and somehow deactivated the security protocols.
Aqualad easily yanked open the doorway, and everyone gasped at what we saw. I expected to see an industrial hallway corridor akin to any secret lab in a movie I'd ever watched, with metallic walls or perhaps off-white, beige colors like a sterilized hospital. Instead, it was as though we had entered the belly of the beast.
The walls, ceiling, and floor were covered in – or perhaps were - organic. Living. Flesh. A purple or maroon color, the material bulged and stretched like a deposit of fat or a bit of lumpy skin. Covered in mucus, the place was disgusting and fascinating all at once.
"It's alive," Troia muttered. "What madness is this?" If she was nervous before, she was certainly nervous now.
"I do not know, but we must be vigilant." The Atlantean reached for his water bearers and held them in both hands, at the ready.
"Radio the League?" Kid Flash asked, already reaching for a communicator hidden in his goggles. "I can't connect."
At regular intervals, the walls bulged into fleshy, fluid-filled sacs, a different color and consistency than the rest of the organic walls. There were things inside these pods, things as alien as anything you might expect in outer space. I glanced toward Troia – or perhaps a magical creature?
"Those are… placentas," I said in awe, trailing off at the implications.
Kid Flash rushed into the hallway and ran his finger along the fleshy wall, checking the consistency. He dared not touch one of the pods holding a creature inside, but studied one just the same. "Guys, this isn't a uterus, is it?"
"It may as well be," I finished the thought. "Why – how are they birthing dozens of creatures? What- damn."
The light in the corridor came from industrial lighting that still ran along the walls or ceiling. That meant this was still part of the complex, connected to their machinery and their network.
"My radio has no connection either – communication's jammed," Robin said with frustration. "We're on our own."
"I think this would be a great time to leave," Troia suggested. "You've proven that they're up to something weird. Fly up and out, and the League can take it from here."
I frowned at the suggestion, and I could tell from the rest of the boys's expressions that they were in agreement with me, though for different reasons.
Kid Flash shook his head and spoke what the others were thinking. "If we came this far and didn't at least get more concrete info, then all we did was… kiddie work. Sidekick work."
They were bitter about their conversation with Speedy earlier, clearly. I hadn't witnessed it myself, but it was clear they had some mixed feelings on the Justice League. I wasn't affiliated with them, so my actions here wouldn't piss them off quite as badly as theirs would, but I still wanted their trust.
I tried my own communication, the Plumber Badge easily connecting to the Sector House even from underground. Robin eyed the object in my palm, as I spoke a warning to the AI.
"Field Log – Cassian. July 4th, 2010. I am currently several hundred feet below Washington D.C. in a genetic research lab called Cadmus. They're growing these creatures in a flesh hallway deep underground. Don't know what they are, why they are doing it, but it's decidedly weird."
"Someone will hear that?" Troia asked.
"Not for a while. My mentor and his son are on Earth. The computer will log it, but until one of them hears it, then we are on our own."
It was a lie.
I could have ordered the AI to contact Gabriel, or even contacted his badge myself. The larger reason why I did not was because it was a holiday, and Kyle needed this time with his parents. His life had been strange enough - he'd undergone surgery more than once now to integrate the Plumber tech into his body, and he needed normalcy. The smaller reason why I didn't was because this was an opportunity to work further alongside the next generation of Leaguers. For better or worse, getting integrated into their inner circle would be only beneficial.
If any of them noticed the lie, they did not comment on it. There were more important things to consider, and the speedster itched to run. At my nod, he took off down the hallway to see what he could see, commenting that he'd focus on finding a terminal of some kind for Robin.
The rest of us inched down the hallway after him in comparison. If this were an open-air space, I could get a quick view of the area too. An underground complex just wouldn't facilitate my flight speed, and I certainly couldn't activate hyperspace without a lot of room to move.
The monsters they were crafting had pale white skin, horns, sharpened claws, tails, and resembled vaguely what I thought demons might be. My worry that they may actually be magical creatures came back to the forefront of my mind, and I voiced the concern aloud.
"These aren't demonic, are they? Aliens I'd get. But… the only things they're missing are forked tongues, flames, and red skin."
Aqualad voiced his rejection of that idea. "While I am no generalist, I do not sense any magic in these pods."
I glanced toward the Amazonian, but if she had any insight to the contrary, she did not share it. This group of sidekicks did not have a Raven – no magic expert.
Robin pointed his wrist computer toward them at every turn, recording what data he could on film to dissect later. So far, they had not stirred, but the farther we moved away from the elevator shaft to safety, the worse we-
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Kid Flash tumbled to a stop and tried to kill his momentum with a roll that only left him covered in muck. He wiped his hand across his face as he hurried to his feet, and we rushed to inspect him.
"Some of them are moving ahead. They're weird, and some of them are huge, but they didn't look dangerous. We should, uh, probably leave."
I ignored him and rounded the corner, my thoughts in doubt about what he was even suggesting. There was no way that we-
A trio of the creatures were mammoth in size. Graying skin, covered in spikes, forearms as thick as tree trunks, tusks like an elephant. The massive behemoths moved like a scaly cross between an elephant and a gorilla, and each carried a much smaller, impish creature on their shoulders.
The one in the front of the pack carried two massive storage containers under his arms, the kind of tanks that likely weighed nearly as much as a mid-size sedan. Its buddies were holding tools I couldn't identify, but they were headed toward a much larger chamber around the bend.
The much smaller monsters on their shoulders studied me for a moment, and I barely had time to react before I, too, headed back toward the others.
"We shouldn't be here," I said simply. "This is not worth pursuing."
"We aren't giving up now," Robin declared. He and the others followed around the corner and froze as they spotted the strange creatures.
Ultimately, nothing to worry about.
Nothing to be concerned with.
Nothing at all.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 18:29 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Dr. Desmond put the finishing touches on the latest experimental trial – number thirteen showed the right amount of promise, and while it needed further testing, preliminary examinations proved that this formula may be exactly what the board of Cadmus wanted.
The researcher placed the new test tube with a ready formula for Project: Blockbuster into the correct storage case, to be preserved later. It was an auspicious night to have finished this trial – an explosion on the surface level over their heads might be a mysterious omen of poor things to come, but Desmond was not at all superstitious. No, this was a good night, the product of wonderful scientific breakthroughs.
If things continued at the rate that they did, the projects on the pipeline for the next year were quite astounding indeed. Soon, the geonomorphs would debut on the world stage, and renewed military contracts would put money further into the pockets of Cadmus. They would be cutting edge and elevate humanity to a higher calling, and Dr. Desmond would-
Someone cleared his throat and interrupted the scientist's reverie.
"What is it, Guardian?"
The head of Cadmus security and a product of its own achievements, the uniformed superhero for fire entered the chamber with a G-Gnome on his shoulder. Jim Harper wore his golden helmet and blue body armor proudly, the shield on his arm a brilliantly durable engineering marvel.
"Sorry to interrupt, Doc, but a G-Gnome just reported five intruders on sublevel fifty-one."
Desmond's eyes widened, and he glanced toward the news coverage of the fire above their heads on the monitors lining the walls. He'd been so invested that he hadn't paid it much mind, but now? Now he may be a bit concerned.
"Did I miss a perimeter breach alert?"
Guardian shook his head.
"Then the G-Gnomes are confused," Desmond insisted. "Whatever might occur in our faux lab above ground, the real Cadmus is the most secure facility in D.C."
"My job to keep it that way," Guardian reminded, and Desmond sighed.
"Fine. Take a squad."
Desmond did not hear the footsteps of the first ever genomorph, Dubbilex, entering the chamber. "Might I suggest Guardian leave his G-Gnome behind?"
Desmond whipped around, indignant that the fool of a failed experiment would suggest such a thing. The horned creature was wiry but shorter than Guardian, angular face revealing his modified features. Desmond gestured to the impish mutant on Guardian's shoulder. "No. The advantage of instant telepathic communication outweighs other concerns." Desmond glanced toward his own G-Gnome resting on the table nearby his experiments.
A moment later, and Guardian robotically responded to the telepathic impulses keeping him at their urging. "I need my G-Gnome with me at all times."
Desmond wished Guardian was naturally as invested in the aims of Cadmus as Desmond and the board were, but the hero-for-hire still held a pesky mentality that would reject the status of the lab if he were able to follow his concerns. Mental pacifying was necessary.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 19:41 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Despite the impulse to leave, the rest of the group were unwilling to follow-through. We found ourselves in a secure room, hidden behind a circular access door that only responded to Robin's computer after several tense minutes of hacking. The security encryptions were tighter within this section of the facility, and it was pure luck that we had not tripped an alarm by now.
Or maybe Robin really was that good.
The room itself was filled with storage containers that we'd checked, and ultimately couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Kid Flash took some of the liquid contents to perform some testing later, but I had a feeling that it must be materials for this amniotic fluid. Or perhaps some kind of chemical concoction to make them grow. Whatever it was, we sealed it up to avoid smelling whatever it was and waited for Robin to review the data.
"Genomorphs," he muttered finally as his hologram shifted through to a new screen. "That's what their research notes call them. Genetic organism anomalies they created to have different abilities. It is truly wild."
I couldn't handle the ramifications. They created new organisms? Not just modifying existing ones? I thought of stories where scientists spliced different DNA into a creature – I glanced toward my own hands and nearly gasped at the realization that I had done that.
I had absorbed the DNA of an alien creature and gained its abilities. I already knew that, but realizing it in a different context was what surprised me. How… much of me was Osmosian and how much was Aerophibian?
"Like the Cadmus of myth," Aqualad suggested, earning a look of surprise from Troia. "They created new life by sowing dragon's teeth into the earth."
"You know of the stories?" The Amazon asked, and the teenager from under the sea nodded.
"Of course. Many in Atlantis still hold respect for the Grecian stories of old, and our language evolved from ancient Greek."
Troia nodded in wonder. "These people tread on ground none should dare cross. The Spartoi warriors Cadmus created were so dangerous that he forced them to fight one another until only a few survived."
Robin nodded fervently. "I'd say they are dangerous all right. There are several subspecies of geonomorph, some with control over electricity, telekinesis, elongated claws, increased agility, super strength, telepathy. They're living weapons."
Troia stood more confidently. "We cannot allow them to exist. These weapons are an affront to the gods."
I considered that idea for a second and nodded. "I'm on board. You saw all of those things out there waiting to be born – there were a few dozen on this level alone. Cadmus made an army. Send a few of them to any modern battlefield, and they could change the tide of war anywhere."
I couldn't help but almost admire it. In a sick, twisted way, they were exactly the kind of thing that the Reach would love to use in their conquests. Just like they seeded Osmos V with aliens of other planets to cause mayhem, you could easily drop a few of these mammoth things in a major population center and watch the sparks fly.
"We should not jump to killing them," Aqualad suggested. "That decision is above us."
"My people would never allow these things to exist," Troia argued. "It is an insult, and I would suspect Athena herself would wish them destroyed."
Kid Flash muttered, "They just give me the creeps. Not sure they should die."
Before we could really settle this discussion, Robin continued reading off of the screen. "There's more. We're, uh, one sublevel above their latest big experiment. Something called Project: Kr. It's different from the others but – damn – triple encrypted." He furiously typed, but before he could finish his hack, the door to the room suddenly burst open.
"Don't move!"
A team of lithe, agile genomorphs surrounded a man in uniform I did not recognize, dressed almost like a blue and gold Captain America – but with a golden buckler for a shield instead of a huge circular one. He had one of those impish genomorphs on his shoulder, the same ones that I'd seen on the mammoth ones outside. The smaller forms that ran alongside him were the ones Robin mentioned had sharpened claws, and they outnumbered us two to one.
"Wait – Robin, Aqualad, Kid Flash?" He did not seem to recognize Troia or me, but he stared at us all the same.
"I know you," the Atlantean stated. "Guardian – a hero."
What was a member of the hero community doing working for Cadmus? I remembered Captain Atom worked for the government - and therefore Cadmus – in JLU, but as far as I could tell, Atom was just a Leaguer here.
"I'm chief of security. You're trespassing." He paused. "But we can call the Justice League, figure this out."
Troia's stance shifted slightly. "You approve of this insult against the gods?"
Guardian merely stared at her. "I don't know what you're talking about. Only one God I serve, ma'am."
"I doubt that one would like this either," Kid Flash added. "These are bred to be weapons of war!"
Guardian glanced at the speedster in confusion, and before he could say anything, the genomorph on his shoulder shifted to stare at him, horns slightly glowing in red.
The Cap-analogue's posture shifted immediately to battle. "Take 'em down hard. No mercy!"
Troia and I moved into the air at the same moment that Robin dropped a smoke pellet to fill the chamber. The only exit was the one behind him, so we were cornered, but I doubted three brutes couldn't force the door open. I heard Robin pipeline somewhere above us, and Kid Flash zipped through the room to dodge the sudden genomorph crowd running at us.
I gripped a metal paneling on the side of a storage container, shifting to metal armor, and then raced forward into the fray. A fist impacted hard into Guardian's hastily-risen shield, and I narrowly avoided a trio of the living weapons that leapt for me. One managed to find purchase, a razor-sharp claw scraping through the metal armor and almost piercing into skin. I kicked hard against its chest, sending it flying away with my other leg.
Troia tossed two of them into one another so hard I heard bones crack. She moved with a righteous fury and barreled into two more, ignoring the sweeping tails and fast counterattacks.
Aqualad shouted, "Get the door, Cassian!" and rushed Guardian, water blade weapons in his hands. Trading blows with the subverted hero, I listened to his suggested and sped toward the door.
Kid Flash knocked two of them away that tried to pursue me and nearly missed a third when an acrobatic flip from Robin knocked one of them into the wall several feet away. Within a moment, he was gone into the smoke.
I gripped with my fingers and pulled the heavy door. I struggled against the security measures designed to keep these things as heavy-duty as possible. I wasn't sure exactly what they needed these doors for, unless it was to keep those mammoth things contained. Regardless, they did not budge easily, and I stood a sitting duck for far too long to finally pull it open barely a few feet.
"Now!"
Aqualad kept Guardian busy as Robin swung from his grappel line into the gap and flipped to a stop on the other side. Kid Flash moved so fast he passed into the space a heartbeat later, leaving a trail in the smoke that leaked out. Two of the creatures wrestled Troia, not beating her in strength but becoming difficult for her to maintain her distance from their sharpened claws, and several cuts had already ruined the left leg of her pants from the knee down. A third and fourth recovered and tried to attack her from the back, but a shock of green energy from my eyes sent them flying into the smoke cloud. She managed to make some distance and, face red with fury, finally pulled back as she met my own pleading eyes.
As soon as she was on the other side, I slipped through to the other side and the door slid shut. Robin announced that he'd locked them inside, and all I could think about was that we were trapped on a floor with those massive creatures and who knew how many more potential assailants waiting to be born.
Troia had blood soaking slightly into the fabric of her jeans.
Kid Flash had a rip in his uniform near his upper arm, and it was all he could do to hold the wound while he tried to, hopefully, heal faster than we did.
Robin and Aqualad had not suffered any wound, and my own metal armor had been enough to withstand a grazing slash. A more dedicated attack, more head on, and I bet I would be bleeding too.
"Project: Kr." Aqualad almost whispered the words, his eyes clearly showing the mental struggle in his head. "What is it?"
"Let's find out," I suggested before anyone could argue. "Kid Flash, did you see a stairwell?"
"I think so. It's not far, but we, uh, may need to avoid the big damn things."
"Then that's what we do. We need to move, now."
2.3
- Location
- Alabama
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 20:16 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
As we entered the chamber and quickly disabled the lock behind us, the door cut us off from the similarly disgusting organic corridor that was sublevel fifty-two. We'd avoided any disturbances along the way, but there were a serious number of those things that attacked us, the G-Elves according to Robin's files, waiting to be born in their fluid sacs. Whatever their claws were, they were decidedly sharp enough to harm any of us with a dedicated attack, and fast enough to be a nuisance for anyone barring Kid Flash.
"This is it-"
I didn't hear the rest of Robin's words.
Instead, my eyes fixated on a reinforced glass pod that rested as the centerpiece of the room, and every device, sensor, and monitor in the chamber fed into that tube. It was dark, but one of the smaller benefits of the Aerophibian abilities were slightly better night vision. And beyond the darkened pod's glass exterior could only be one person.
Dark hair. Muscular. Tall. Angular chin. Late teenager. Form-fitting white suit from head to toe. Prominently displayed on his chest was a red symbol, one that could only refer to one thing and one thing alone. A stylized shield in red stood in contrast, with what appeared to be an angular letter "s" in the center.
Fuck.
Cadmus had cloned Superman.
This teenager could only be one character – Conner Kent. Kon-El. Superboy.
Project: Kr for Krypton. Kryptonian.
Three G-Gnomes – the telepathic genomorphs – sat in their own containers above the sleeping cloned teenager. They were awake, watching, waiting for us to engage, and I almost felt more uncomfortable with them in the room than I did the clone of the most powerful being on Earth - and maybe the universe, if you squinted.
Troia was as uncomfortable as I was from her slackjawed expression. "How could they do this?"
"A clone," Kid Flash muttered. "This is insane."
Robin did not need me to tell him to hack the nearest computer systems and feed any data that he could aloud for us to understand.
"Weapon designation Superboy. A clone force grown in… sixteen weeks?" Robin shuddered. "From DNA acquired from Superman."
"Stolen." Aqualad glared at the door leading out, knowing we had little time to try to engage with any of this more. So long as the door remained disabled, then we had a chance to learn more. Until G-Trolls – the big ones – showed up to make a huge damned mess of the doorway.
Robin read off more details about the suit, which apparently absorbed yellow sun radiation. Which meant that the clone was as juiced as he would be if he were outside in bright daylight, flying through the air. If we could convince him to help us, we had no reason to fear anything in the complex. If we couldn't, then they undoubtedly had a weapon that they could twist against us.
This was horrifying. It was one thing to read about a character with a deeply disturbing origin story, but it was another thing to see what may as well be an infant. An experiment who had barely lived, stuffed in a pod, who may have many unknown side effects. Comics canon would suggest Conner was perfectly normal, but was that true here?
"They educated him?" Troia asked.
The G-Gnomes. Telepathic education. Not real experience. They'd loaded his brain with encyclopedias, with images and numbers and histories. Damn…
"We need to get him out," I said simply. "We have precious little time. I don't wanna take our chances against an army of genomorph superweapons to get this clone out of here. No League response, none of my contacts – this is on us."
Troia gestured toward the clone. "They've made a mockery of Superman. Fed him lies. He may be hostile."
"Yeah – who wouldn't be?" Kid Flash argued. "I'd be pissed."
"Robin," I thought, thinking back to the many genomorphs in waiting outside. "He's alone, right? The only one?"
The kid's eyes widened, and his fingers typed so furiously that even the sound made me nervous.
"They could not have made more," Aqualad suggested, less out of certain knowledge and more out of hope.
"Why not?" I asked bleakly.
If I were in their shoes and had successfully built a Superboy, there would be dozens of them waiting to sell to the highest bidder. Cadmus had only built one Galatea, a white-suit clad clone of Supergirl in the cartoon, but they'd made so many copies of the other meta heroes they'd engineered that they'd taken on Justice League whose membership was in the dozens.
"I am not a genetics expert." I pointed with an exaggerated hand toward the doorway. "There may be hundreds of those things. Thousands, even. Why wouldn't they make more Kryptonians?"
Troia could not sit still.
Robin gestured slightly to the pod. "They needed a special container to keep him asleep, to help him grow. An isolated room, and the documents are only pointing to this one chamber on this floor. We aren't looking at dozens of Superman clones, but… there could be more than one. Can't rule it out."
That sobering thought brought the mood to its worst.
"I can't find anything quickly-" Robin groaned. "There are maybe hundreds of thousands of files here, if not millions, and the program I am running can only sift so fast."
"Highlight anything with unique DNA," I suggested. "Make a copy of it, if you can, and we can sift later."
The Boy Wonder tilted his head up to shoot a look toward me. "You think I am not already trying that?"
I frowned, not biting at that frustration.
Aqualad intervened instead. "Work what you can. The League will certainly handle the rest."
I did not disagree with that. Still, Robin poured every ounce of effort to work his tech magic, and if we had more time, I sincerely believed he may actually be able to find anything worth finding. Such as it was, we ran on borrowed time.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 20:57 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Jim Harper – Guardian - had little idea what to do in this situation. One minute, he responded to Dubbilex about what could only be a minor fire, the next he was facing down three sidekicks connected to the Justice League. And two others he did not recognize, but regardless – they'd intruded on Cadmus' turf, and Jim knew what had to be done.
His grandfather James had been Guardian back during the days of the All-Star Squadron in World War II, and Jim often wondered what his namesake would do in times of stress. Acting in heroism often required the toughest of choices, and ultimately, he'd been hired to work security for Cadmus. He'd spent some time on the streets of Boston a few years back, but the steady job he had now was easier on his conscience.
A group of sidekicks had witnessed his bosses' secrets. That… was worrying on many levels, not the least of which was that Cadmus would undoubtedly shut down if they were to be uncovered. A breach in the information security of this facility would be a death-knell in the good work they could do, and Jim did not want that.
Desmond and Dubbilex joined them on sublevel fifty-two, and the sidekicks had found perhaps their most secretive project – and one of their most successful. The researcher was incensed, and the horned telekinetic genomorph had his own curious expression on a calm, alien face.
"They're locked inside," he answered simply, the G-Gnome on his shoulder feeding intelligence to his mind. "Desmond, we should-"
"No. Whatever it is that you were going to say is irrelevant, Guardian." The doctor was more furious than Jim had ever seen him, and in many ways, Guardian shared in that anger. This was an intrusion into their affairs.
When Desmond ordered the telekinetic to force the door open with his mind, Dubbilex raised a hand, horns glowing a bright red. A warbling of reality oozed in the space between he and the door, but the door did not budge, much to the consternation of the doctor.
"What use are you?"
"I apologize, Doctor Desmond, but these locks are beyond my capability to effect."
Desmond wheeled on Jim. "The board of directors trusts you to ensure this facility remains secure. You know that we cannot allow them to simply leave."
Guardian's eyes widened at the implication. "Doc, these are trusted members of the hero community. They do good work. You want to – what, eliminate them?"
Desmond put a fist in to his palm. "If that is what it takes to ensure Cadmus and its projects have an unimpeded future, then that is what we must do."
"This will bring the Justice League down upon our heads."
"Better them," Desmond began, "than to face the ire of the board of directors, believe me." He glanced toward the G-Gnome on Jim's shoulder. "Contact the G-Gnomes inside Project: Kr."
Guardian tensed. "What do you intend to do?"
Desmond set his jaw. "What must be done. Time to field test our latest weapon."
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 21:13 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
"Kid," I said seriously, "how confident are you that you can outrun their security measures?"
The speedster frowned, his eyes not leaving the holographic screens filled with raw data the youngest of us siphoned through. "Reasonably confident, if I have room to move."
"Start a dedicated sweep."
His eyes widened. "Cassian, I can move through the corridors, maybe, but I doubt I can safely get in and out of the security doors. Any room like this would be out bounds."
I frowned, thinking of everything I knew of speedsters. "So, you can't just move through walls?"
He suffered. "No-"
"KF gets a nosebleed when he tries it," the youngest snickered, still typing and scrolling.
"Dude!"
"We cannot risk going half-cocked-"
"I don't wanna leave any stone unturned, if we can manage the risks."
I thought back to the final days of my work with Carnifex.
"Cassian, I admire the confidence, but we do not know what we are looking for," Aqualad answered. "Not without Robin's data."
"I'm working on it."
I cleared my throat. "I will spare you the whole story right now, but I once led a team to liberate a prison camp. We didn't know how many prisoners there were, nor where they were all likely located, but we had to try. In that mission, I found my father and my mentor. Saved them unexpectedly." I swallowed. "If I'd cut my losses earlier and took a handful of prisoners out, I might have not saved two of the people closest to me."
No one said a word for a long moment, the only sound the typing of the monitor.
Troia was the first to respond. "That's- I am glad to hear it ended well. But you…"
"Thank you for sharing your experience," Aqualad added.
"But we are in over our heads," Kid Flash finished. "Not impossible, Cass, but if we commit to that, we are risking this whole complex coming down on us hard."
"Sublevel forty-one," Robin muttered, breaking the tension with the mere suggestion of another hallway. "Sublevel forty-five."
At the two levels, I waited with bated breath.
"Not sure what I am looking at, but forty-one has a chamber with such encrypted clearance levels that it has to be something. And forty-five was referenced in the files of Project: Kr – something related to it is there."
I wanted to see it all, alongside those two corridors as a place to start.
We just had one problem.
The pod opened with such force that its door nearly bent away from its proper location. In the next half-second, Aqualad bodily tumbled, end over end, and slammed so forcefully into the wall that it cracked behind him.
I wheeled around in time to see the clone bounding for us, roaring as he immediately proved his weapon status the moment something awoke him. Robin maneuvered poorly out of the way and almost slid onto his own cape to avoid a palm strike that might have left him with a new orifice in his abdomen. He gripped for something in his belt, and I forced my way forward and barreled my own body-weight with as much force as I could muster without a running head start, nor with any reinforcing armor.
He moved.
Had the clone merely lost his footing? Had a fluke happened? Or had I actually pushed a Kryptonian several feet away without even full strength?
I didn't have time to reflect because his backhand strike forced me onto my ass nearly twenty yards away, skidding to a stop before a pile of railing.
Perhaps our heaviest hitter, Troia stood nearby, eyes wide, maybe in shock. She didn't move, but she was in a readied stance almost on instinct. Her hands wavered, and I reminded myself again that she had not done any of this before.
Kid Flash proved ineffective at knocking some sense into the clone with three glancing strikes in rapid succession against the clone's wide back. For all his effort, the speedster pulled his hand back and winced, rubbing at his fingers and zipping away before the Kryptonian could latch onto him for more purchase.
Smoke filled the room as Robin created some distance, but if the man had super-vision of any kind, then it wouldn't be any more than a nuisance.
Aqualad tried to grapple the man to the ground and bought us some time.
I gripped Troia's arm at the shoulder for moral support. With my other hand, I activated the secret panel in my uniform jacket. Thanking Kyle under my breath for the design, my skin grew a barrier of lead.
Troia did not need me to say anything. The shoulder support was enough, and she steeled herself too.
A heavy breath exhaled and then she roared as she powered forward, gliding through the air and forcing Superboy off of his feet and into the opposite wall, a deep crater left in their wake. He tried to wail on her, but she kicked toward his hip and knocked him off-center.
Aqualad generated a whip of water to try to grip the Kryptonian clone's arm, but it was nothing more than a distraction that I couldn't properly see through the smoke.
"Stand down," Kid Flash shouted. "We do not wanna fight you!"
"We want to help you, Superboy!" Robin shouted from his hiding spot, somewhere I couldn't see.
"We are here to free you, not to-"
Aqualad bodily hit the ceiling so hard, electricity sizzling from his tattoos, that his sentence died with his consciousness as he hit the floor.
I flew forward even as he tossed Troia away, the Amazon flipping end over end and tumbling through iron railing.
A lead knee struck his torso, and he hit the rocky structure behind us, dust filling the space. I slammed a fist into his shoulder, directed a kick toward his abdomen, but he maneuvered below with a roar, grappled onto my leg, and spun me like a bag of still frozen ice you needed to break up for your freezer.
Lead armor shattered as I hit the wall three separate times, my own vision and senses starting to wane as consciousness became difficult. I spotted Kid Flash trying to pull open the door, to perhaps run for help?, but a final slam threw my senses completely into disarray.
The clone roared as an electrical disc from the Boy Wonder's gadgets sent currents of power through him. I didn't see how the clone responded, didn't see how Troia awkwardly tossed the clone to the side, didn't see how she tried to pull me to my feet before he grappled us both to the ground, then to the ceiling, then back to the ground again.
Each painful impact left the room more and more into rubble. I was barely aware of Aqualad managing to stand, managing to deliver a haymaker of a hit with a hammer made of water. Troia and I had some breathing room to recover, but the girl was out.
I was more than halfway there myself. Senses spinning, I saw something.
Something I had not expected.
A bruise.
A bruise on the Kryptonian's face.
I… doubted that I'd done that.
Troia must have. Or maybe Aqualad.
One of us had left a mark on him, and I had no idea who. But… it….
Everything darkened to nothing as pain wracked my body.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 21:32 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Kid Flash had zipped down the corridor, past Guardian, a researcher whose name badge had said Desmond, and a group of genomorphs of various shapes and sizes that had come with him. One of the G-Trolls – the huge ones – he'd had run right through its legs to keep a relatively straight shot.
He had one goal – the stairwell.
The speedster was there in seconds, and he took a bit of time to begin to wind up its many flights.
He… hated everything about this – hated that he was leaving his friends with that slave of Superman's son. This had gone above and beyond the call of duty anyone had expected of them, and even if the Flash had ordered Wally to do this, he would have pulled the younger speedster back far sooner than all of this.
He crossed sublevel after sublevel, not stopping to check for any radio signals. They were too far underground and likely had conventional jamming tech capable of letting only their approved frequencies out. He… well, he almost had an idea to use their comms, but logging any kind of dedicated channel into Cadmus's systems was far too risky.
He only needed to give a signal and then seek a way to assist. He didn't want to wait for backup, especially while the whole League was preoccupied with a so-called sorcerer trying to casually blot out the Sun. There were other things he could do, and Wally…
Sublevel forty-five.
Hmmm.
He detoured.
It wasn't smart, it wasn't wise, but he could move.
Kid Flash poured on the speed as he entered the corridor, this one more like any usual underground lab he would expect, rather than the horror movie only a few floors down. He didn't know what he was looking for, but the security measures were far more focused on the deepest sublevels. He could take the time to check, to see what he could learn.
Most doors he tried were closed and locked behind security he hadn't the skill to crack. If he were Uncle Barry, perhaps he could try to speed blitz through likely passkeys. As he was, Wally was more limited than that. But not all the doors were.
A lab full of chemicals – sterilization solutions, isolated compounds meant for organic tissue growth, and – whoa, samples of medicine that half the known world would deem too dangerous to use. Stem cell propagation materials were only the tip of the iceberg, and while Wally could maybe recognize a few of them, he hadn't the medical expertise to make heads or tails of how they were used.
A monitoring room, almost like a security checkpoint. A wall of screens showed not every camera, but instead dedicated feeds to a few rooms within the facility. The details on screen, notes on paper, and an open laptop revealed this was a room designed to view footage of the genomorphs at work, at play, and at training. One screen displayed a room noted as a simulation chamber, designed to expose genomorph subjects to situations like extreme temperatures or even live battle scenarios.
Wally glanced toward the open laptop and quickly perused its files. A steaming cup of coffee rested nearby, half-drunk – someone in their haste to leave and investigate the mess he and the others were making had given him an in, and he wasn't going to squander it.
Wally focused on trying to find project files, files from this sublevel, files from sublevel forty-one. Surely – surely he could find something.
The sound of booming footsteps alerted him that he was losing the chance to further investigate. Annoyed, he zipped through as many files as he could, and – oh.
Project: Match.
Kid Flash read two lines of data in the file, wishing that this was a more comprehensive diagnostic file and not a file on "Match's performance at enduring psychic torture." It was on this floor, behind a security door as extensive as Project: Kr. And… "as hyperdurable as the original specimen to most physical means."
Wally wasn't certain if this clone was like the Kryptonian one that had just whooped their assee, but they had certainly cloned something durable.
G-Trolls passed the hallway, spotted Kid Flash, and roared.
The speedster had little room to move as quickly as he might have liked, but he'd found what he needed. He raced to the right, hoping to double back toward the stairwell, but gasped in surprise at the wall-to-wall genomorph stampede that stood between him and the stairs.
He…
He had nowhere to go.
One of the genomorphs walked forward, the only one of its kind in the mass of clawed G-Elves and massive G-Trolls. It was slender with long horns, nearly the same height as him, with roughly human proportions. Two long tendrils drooped from his face, almost like a beard.
"Stand down."
In his head, a second statement from the same entity, the horned genomorph. <"Do not resist. Do not react to this voice. I wish to assist you.">
Kid Flash frowned in disbelief. "You expect me to stand down?"
"Cadmus must remain secure." Then, <"Surrender and I will ensure you and your friends make it out of this place alive.">
"You're… serious?"
<"Yes. I am Dubbilex. Do not resist, young hero, and I will work to ensure your freedom.">
Wally glanced at the only corridor to freedom, a corridor he was not confident he could escape. Maybe… if he ran so fast he ran along the wall, he could – no.
<"What is Project: Match?"> It was odd to try to think back to the telepathic creature, and he wasn't sure it even worked until Dubbilex responded.
<"I will explain. Come.">
With a heavy sigh, Kid Flash allowed Dubbilex and his genomorphs to take him. At the first opportunity he had, however, he would dash to freedom. Trusting this thing might be the only way out of this.
JULY 4, 20:16 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
As we entered the chamber and quickly disabled the lock behind us, the door cut us off from the similarly disgusting organic corridor that was sublevel fifty-two. We'd avoided any disturbances along the way, but there were a serious number of those things that attacked us, the G-Elves according to Robin's files, waiting to be born in their fluid sacs. Whatever their claws were, they were decidedly sharp enough to harm any of us with a dedicated attack, and fast enough to be a nuisance for anyone barring Kid Flash.
"This is it-"
I didn't hear the rest of Robin's words.
Instead, my eyes fixated on a reinforced glass pod that rested as the centerpiece of the room, and every device, sensor, and monitor in the chamber fed into that tube. It was dark, but one of the smaller benefits of the Aerophibian abilities were slightly better night vision. And beyond the darkened pod's glass exterior could only be one person.
Dark hair. Muscular. Tall. Angular chin. Late teenager. Form-fitting white suit from head to toe. Prominently displayed on his chest was a red symbol, one that could only refer to one thing and one thing alone. A stylized shield in red stood in contrast, with what appeared to be an angular letter "s" in the center.
Fuck.
Cadmus had cloned Superman.
This teenager could only be one character – Conner Kent. Kon-El. Superboy.
Project: Kr for Krypton. Kryptonian.
Three G-Gnomes – the telepathic genomorphs – sat in their own containers above the sleeping cloned teenager. They were awake, watching, waiting for us to engage, and I almost felt more uncomfortable with them in the room than I did the clone of the most powerful being on Earth - and maybe the universe, if you squinted.
Troia was as uncomfortable as I was from her slackjawed expression. "How could they do this?"
"A clone," Kid Flash muttered. "This is insane."
Robin did not need me to tell him to hack the nearest computer systems and feed any data that he could aloud for us to understand.
"Weapon designation Superboy. A clone force grown in… sixteen weeks?" Robin shuddered. "From DNA acquired from Superman."
"Stolen." Aqualad glared at the door leading out, knowing we had little time to try to engage with any of this more. So long as the door remained disabled, then we had a chance to learn more. Until G-Trolls – the big ones – showed up to make a huge damned mess of the doorway.
Robin read off more details about the suit, which apparently absorbed yellow sun radiation. Which meant that the clone was as juiced as he would be if he were outside in bright daylight, flying through the air. If we could convince him to help us, we had no reason to fear anything in the complex. If we couldn't, then they undoubtedly had a weapon that they could twist against us.
This was horrifying. It was one thing to read about a character with a deeply disturbing origin story, but it was another thing to see what may as well be an infant. An experiment who had barely lived, stuffed in a pod, who may have many unknown side effects. Comics canon would suggest Conner was perfectly normal, but was that true here?
"They educated him?" Troia asked.
The G-Gnomes. Telepathic education. Not real experience. They'd loaded his brain with encyclopedias, with images and numbers and histories. Damn…
"We need to get him out," I said simply. "We have precious little time. I don't wanna take our chances against an army of genomorph superweapons to get this clone out of here. No League response, none of my contacts – this is on us."
Troia gestured toward the clone. "They've made a mockery of Superman. Fed him lies. He may be hostile."
"Yeah – who wouldn't be?" Kid Flash argued. "I'd be pissed."
"Robin," I thought, thinking back to the many genomorphs in waiting outside. "He's alone, right? The only one?"
The kid's eyes widened, and his fingers typed so furiously that even the sound made me nervous.
"They could not have made more," Aqualad suggested, less out of certain knowledge and more out of hope.
"Why not?" I asked bleakly.
If I were in their shoes and had successfully built a Superboy, there would be dozens of them waiting to sell to the highest bidder. Cadmus had only built one Galatea, a white-suit clad clone of Supergirl in the cartoon, but they'd made so many copies of the other meta heroes they'd engineered that they'd taken on Justice League whose membership was in the dozens.
"I am not a genetics expert." I pointed with an exaggerated hand toward the doorway. "There may be hundreds of those things. Thousands, even. Why wouldn't they make more Kryptonians?"
Troia could not sit still.
Robin gestured slightly to the pod. "They needed a special container to keep him asleep, to help him grow. An isolated room, and the documents are only pointing to this one chamber on this floor. We aren't looking at dozens of Superman clones, but… there could be more than one. Can't rule it out."
That sobering thought brought the mood to its worst.
"I can't find anything quickly-" Robin groaned. "There are maybe hundreds of thousands of files here, if not millions, and the program I am running can only sift so fast."
"Highlight anything with unique DNA," I suggested. "Make a copy of it, if you can, and we can sift later."
The Boy Wonder tilted his head up to shoot a look toward me. "You think I am not already trying that?"
I frowned, not biting at that frustration.
Aqualad intervened instead. "Work what you can. The League will certainly handle the rest."
I did not disagree with that. Still, Robin poured every ounce of effort to work his tech magic, and if we had more time, I sincerely believed he may actually be able to find anything worth finding. Such as it was, we ran on borrowed time.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 20:57 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Jim Harper – Guardian - had little idea what to do in this situation. One minute, he responded to Dubbilex about what could only be a minor fire, the next he was facing down three sidekicks connected to the Justice League. And two others he did not recognize, but regardless – they'd intruded on Cadmus' turf, and Jim knew what had to be done.
His grandfather James had been Guardian back during the days of the All-Star Squadron in World War II, and Jim often wondered what his namesake would do in times of stress. Acting in heroism often required the toughest of choices, and ultimately, he'd been hired to work security for Cadmus. He'd spent some time on the streets of Boston a few years back, but the steady job he had now was easier on his conscience.
A group of sidekicks had witnessed his bosses' secrets. That… was worrying on many levels, not the least of which was that Cadmus would undoubtedly shut down if they were to be uncovered. A breach in the information security of this facility would be a death-knell in the good work they could do, and Jim did not want that.
Desmond and Dubbilex joined them on sublevel fifty-two, and the sidekicks had found perhaps their most secretive project – and one of their most successful. The researcher was incensed, and the horned telekinetic genomorph had his own curious expression on a calm, alien face.
"They're locked inside," he answered simply, the G-Gnome on his shoulder feeding intelligence to his mind. "Desmond, we should-"
"No. Whatever it is that you were going to say is irrelevant, Guardian." The doctor was more furious than Jim had ever seen him, and in many ways, Guardian shared in that anger. This was an intrusion into their affairs.
When Desmond ordered the telekinetic to force the door open with his mind, Dubbilex raised a hand, horns glowing a bright red. A warbling of reality oozed in the space between he and the door, but the door did not budge, much to the consternation of the doctor.
"What use are you?"
"I apologize, Doctor Desmond, but these locks are beyond my capability to effect."
Desmond wheeled on Jim. "The board of directors trusts you to ensure this facility remains secure. You know that we cannot allow them to simply leave."
Guardian's eyes widened at the implication. "Doc, these are trusted members of the hero community. They do good work. You want to – what, eliminate them?"
Desmond put a fist in to his palm. "If that is what it takes to ensure Cadmus and its projects have an unimpeded future, then that is what we must do."
"This will bring the Justice League down upon our heads."
"Better them," Desmond began, "than to face the ire of the board of directors, believe me." He glanced toward the G-Gnome on Jim's shoulder. "Contact the G-Gnomes inside Project: Kr."
Guardian tensed. "What do you intend to do?"
Desmond set his jaw. "What must be done. Time to field test our latest weapon."
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 21:13 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
"Kid," I said seriously, "how confident are you that you can outrun their security measures?"
The speedster frowned, his eyes not leaving the holographic screens filled with raw data the youngest of us siphoned through. "Reasonably confident, if I have room to move."
"Start a dedicated sweep."
His eyes widened. "Cassian, I can move through the corridors, maybe, but I doubt I can safely get in and out of the security doors. Any room like this would be out bounds."
I frowned, thinking of everything I knew of speedsters. "So, you can't just move through walls?"
He suffered. "No-"
"KF gets a nosebleed when he tries it," the youngest snickered, still typing and scrolling.
"Dude!"
"We cannot risk going half-cocked-"
"I don't wanna leave any stone unturned, if we can manage the risks."
I thought back to the final days of my work with Carnifex.
"Cassian, I admire the confidence, but we do not know what we are looking for," Aqualad answered. "Not without Robin's data."
"I'm working on it."
I cleared my throat. "I will spare you the whole story right now, but I once led a team to liberate a prison camp. We didn't know how many prisoners there were, nor where they were all likely located, but we had to try. In that mission, I found my father and my mentor. Saved them unexpectedly." I swallowed. "If I'd cut my losses earlier and took a handful of prisoners out, I might have not saved two of the people closest to me."
No one said a word for a long moment, the only sound the typing of the monitor.
Troia was the first to respond. "That's- I am glad to hear it ended well. But you…"
"Thank you for sharing your experience," Aqualad added.
"But we are in over our heads," Kid Flash finished. "Not impossible, Cass, but if we commit to that, we are risking this whole complex coming down on us hard."
"Sublevel forty-one," Robin muttered, breaking the tension with the mere suggestion of another hallway. "Sublevel forty-five."
At the two levels, I waited with bated breath.
"Not sure what I am looking at, but forty-one has a chamber with such encrypted clearance levels that it has to be something. And forty-five was referenced in the files of Project: Kr – something related to it is there."
I wanted to see it all, alongside those two corridors as a place to start.
We just had one problem.
The pod opened with such force that its door nearly bent away from its proper location. In the next half-second, Aqualad bodily tumbled, end over end, and slammed so forcefully into the wall that it cracked behind him.
I wheeled around in time to see the clone bounding for us, roaring as he immediately proved his weapon status the moment something awoke him. Robin maneuvered poorly out of the way and almost slid onto his own cape to avoid a palm strike that might have left him with a new orifice in his abdomen. He gripped for something in his belt, and I forced my way forward and barreled my own body-weight with as much force as I could muster without a running head start, nor with any reinforcing armor.
He moved.
Had the clone merely lost his footing? Had a fluke happened? Or had I actually pushed a Kryptonian several feet away without even full strength?
I didn't have time to reflect because his backhand strike forced me onto my ass nearly twenty yards away, skidding to a stop before a pile of railing.
Perhaps our heaviest hitter, Troia stood nearby, eyes wide, maybe in shock. She didn't move, but she was in a readied stance almost on instinct. Her hands wavered, and I reminded myself again that she had not done any of this before.
Kid Flash proved ineffective at knocking some sense into the clone with three glancing strikes in rapid succession against the clone's wide back. For all his effort, the speedster pulled his hand back and winced, rubbing at his fingers and zipping away before the Kryptonian could latch onto him for more purchase.
Smoke filled the room as Robin created some distance, but if the man had super-vision of any kind, then it wouldn't be any more than a nuisance.
Aqualad tried to grapple the man to the ground and bought us some time.
I gripped Troia's arm at the shoulder for moral support. With my other hand, I activated the secret panel in my uniform jacket. Thanking Kyle under my breath for the design, my skin grew a barrier of lead.
Troia did not need me to say anything. The shoulder support was enough, and she steeled herself too.
A heavy breath exhaled and then she roared as she powered forward, gliding through the air and forcing Superboy off of his feet and into the opposite wall, a deep crater left in their wake. He tried to wail on her, but she kicked toward his hip and knocked him off-center.
Aqualad generated a whip of water to try to grip the Kryptonian clone's arm, but it was nothing more than a distraction that I couldn't properly see through the smoke.
"Stand down," Kid Flash shouted. "We do not wanna fight you!"
"We want to help you, Superboy!" Robin shouted from his hiding spot, somewhere I couldn't see.
"We are here to free you, not to-"
Aqualad bodily hit the ceiling so hard, electricity sizzling from his tattoos, that his sentence died with his consciousness as he hit the floor.
I flew forward even as he tossed Troia away, the Amazon flipping end over end and tumbling through iron railing.
A lead knee struck his torso, and he hit the rocky structure behind us, dust filling the space. I slammed a fist into his shoulder, directed a kick toward his abdomen, but he maneuvered below with a roar, grappled onto my leg, and spun me like a bag of still frozen ice you needed to break up for your freezer.
Lead armor shattered as I hit the wall three separate times, my own vision and senses starting to wane as consciousness became difficult. I spotted Kid Flash trying to pull open the door, to perhaps run for help?, but a final slam threw my senses completely into disarray.
The clone roared as an electrical disc from the Boy Wonder's gadgets sent currents of power through him. I didn't see how the clone responded, didn't see how Troia awkwardly tossed the clone to the side, didn't see how she tried to pull me to my feet before he grappled us both to the ground, then to the ceiling, then back to the ground again.
Each painful impact left the room more and more into rubble. I was barely aware of Aqualad managing to stand, managing to deliver a haymaker of a hit with a hammer made of water. Troia and I had some breathing room to recover, but the girl was out.
I was more than halfway there myself. Senses spinning, I saw something.
Something I had not expected.
A bruise.
A bruise on the Kryptonian's face.
I… doubted that I'd done that.
Troia must have. Or maybe Aqualad.
One of us had left a mark on him, and I had no idea who. But… it….
Everything darkened to nothing as pain wracked my body.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 21:32 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Kid Flash had zipped down the corridor, past Guardian, a researcher whose name badge had said Desmond, and a group of genomorphs of various shapes and sizes that had come with him. One of the G-Trolls – the huge ones – he'd had run right through its legs to keep a relatively straight shot.
He had one goal – the stairwell.
The speedster was there in seconds, and he took a bit of time to begin to wind up its many flights.
He… hated everything about this – hated that he was leaving his friends with that slave of Superman's son. This had gone above and beyond the call of duty anyone had expected of them, and even if the Flash had ordered Wally to do this, he would have pulled the younger speedster back far sooner than all of this.
He crossed sublevel after sublevel, not stopping to check for any radio signals. They were too far underground and likely had conventional jamming tech capable of letting only their approved frequencies out. He… well, he almost had an idea to use their comms, but logging any kind of dedicated channel into Cadmus's systems was far too risky.
He only needed to give a signal and then seek a way to assist. He didn't want to wait for backup, especially while the whole League was preoccupied with a so-called sorcerer trying to casually blot out the Sun. There were other things he could do, and Wally…
Sublevel forty-five.
Hmmm.
He detoured.
It wasn't smart, it wasn't wise, but he could move.
Kid Flash poured on the speed as he entered the corridor, this one more like any usual underground lab he would expect, rather than the horror movie only a few floors down. He didn't know what he was looking for, but the security measures were far more focused on the deepest sublevels. He could take the time to check, to see what he could learn.
Most doors he tried were closed and locked behind security he hadn't the skill to crack. If he were Uncle Barry, perhaps he could try to speed blitz through likely passkeys. As he was, Wally was more limited than that. But not all the doors were.
A lab full of chemicals – sterilization solutions, isolated compounds meant for organic tissue growth, and – whoa, samples of medicine that half the known world would deem too dangerous to use. Stem cell propagation materials were only the tip of the iceberg, and while Wally could maybe recognize a few of them, he hadn't the medical expertise to make heads or tails of how they were used.
A monitoring room, almost like a security checkpoint. A wall of screens showed not every camera, but instead dedicated feeds to a few rooms within the facility. The details on screen, notes on paper, and an open laptop revealed this was a room designed to view footage of the genomorphs at work, at play, and at training. One screen displayed a room noted as a simulation chamber, designed to expose genomorph subjects to situations like extreme temperatures or even live battle scenarios.
Wally glanced toward the open laptop and quickly perused its files. A steaming cup of coffee rested nearby, half-drunk – someone in their haste to leave and investigate the mess he and the others were making had given him an in, and he wasn't going to squander it.
Wally focused on trying to find project files, files from this sublevel, files from sublevel forty-one. Surely – surely he could find something.
The sound of booming footsteps alerted him that he was losing the chance to further investigate. Annoyed, he zipped through as many files as he could, and – oh.
Project: Match.
Kid Flash read two lines of data in the file, wishing that this was a more comprehensive diagnostic file and not a file on "Match's performance at enduring psychic torture." It was on this floor, behind a security door as extensive as Project: Kr. And… "as hyperdurable as the original specimen to most physical means."
Wally wasn't certain if this clone was like the Kryptonian one that had just whooped their assee, but they had certainly cloned something durable.
G-Trolls passed the hallway, spotted Kid Flash, and roared.
The speedster had little room to move as quickly as he might have liked, but he'd found what he needed. He raced to the right, hoping to double back toward the stairwell, but gasped in surprise at the wall-to-wall genomorph stampede that stood between him and the stairs.
He…
He had nowhere to go.
One of the genomorphs walked forward, the only one of its kind in the mass of clawed G-Elves and massive G-Trolls. It was slender with long horns, nearly the same height as him, with roughly human proportions. Two long tendrils drooped from his face, almost like a beard.
"Stand down."
In his head, a second statement from the same entity, the horned genomorph. <"Do not resist. Do not react to this voice. I wish to assist you.">
Kid Flash frowned in disbelief. "You expect me to stand down?"
"Cadmus must remain secure." Then, <"Surrender and I will ensure you and your friends make it out of this place alive.">
"You're… serious?"
<"Yes. I am Dubbilex. Do not resist, young hero, and I will work to ensure your freedom.">
Wally glanced at the only corridor to freedom, a corridor he was not confident he could escape. Maybe… if he ran so fast he ran along the wall, he could – no.
<"What is Project: Match?"> It was odd to try to think back to the telepathic creature, and he wasn't sure it even worked until Dubbilex responded.
<"I will explain. Come.">
With a heavy sigh, Kid Flash allowed Dubbilex and his genomorphs to take him. At the first opportunity he had, however, he would dash to freedom. Trusting this thing might be the only way out of this.
2.4
- Location
- Alabama
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 23:02 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
<"Time runs short. You must awaken. You must awaken now!">
I gasped.
Bound. Arms above my head. A reinforced glass surface allowing me to see outside of the containment pod. Various devices were visible on the interior of the pod, including tools for cutting and other perhaps surgical machinery.
Head woozy, I tried to gain my bearings and frowned the moment I saw, slightly at an angle, the others were trapped. Robin to my right, then Troia, then Aqualad. Conscious and as delirious as I was. But… Kid Flash? Where had he gone?
Looming in the center of the darkened chamber was a disheveled Kryptonian clone. Still within the deepest levels of Cadmus, they'd stuffed us into pods like the one he had called home. His bright blue eyes shone in the lights emanating from the pods, and the bruise someone had left on him during the fight was still visible on his left cheek.
I was not about to stay here any longer if I could help it. I tested the restraints, but they didn't budge. A blast from my eyes might get me out, and if I had something like Adrius's Exception, I could just blast the door open. The neuroshock blasts were more laser than concussive, but less superheated than regular laser.
But if I wanted to try that, I might set the clone off again.
… Information.
I needed information.
Apparently Aqualad was on the same page, because he asked, "Where is Kid Flash?"
A long moment of hesitation before Superboy spoke for the first time. "He ran."
Oh.
That was good news.
Very good news.
There would be a League response within the hour, surely.We only needed to stall long enough for us to survive this, then the mentors of the others would be here to kick ass and take names.
I was curious to hear of their reactions to all of this. Batman, the Flash, and Aquaman had no intentions of the three sidekicks forging ahead alone. Wonder Woman had only ever trained Troia as a Themiscyran warrior, not as a Leaguer. And… Superman had no idea this clone existed.
I pressed the next question in my mind. "Why do you want what Cadmus wants?"
Superboy tilted his head as though he did not understand the question.
"There's a big damn world out there," I said simply. "And a big universe full of other worlds beyond it. And your creators stuffed you down here? I've seen a lot of things in the universe, but creating you and then keeping you a big secret and locked away is one of the worst."
The clone did not initially respond. Maybe he could sense how much I was lying through my teeth – I'd witnessed the army of the Triarchy carpet bombing rebel hideouts with Reach tech.
This was nothing.
Robin cut in. "What's worse is that you listened to them, when they don't want what's good for you."
"How would you know what is good for me?"
The youngest simply responded, "Because Superman wouldn't want this for you."
The name earns a momentary fraction of anger visible across the clone's features.
"What makes you think Superman knows what is good?"
He did not ask it in a challenging way – the demeanor shifted, and he almost looked genuinely curious. Conflicted. He was insecure, and why wouldn't he be?
"Because he is Superman," I answered. "He's a paragon people try to follow. Does he always get it right? No – he's as flawed as any of us – but he wouldn't want you under their control beating up the sidekicks of his teammates."
He said nothing.
Troia needled in. "How much do you know of who you are?"
Almost robotically, the clone responded. "I am the Superboy. A genomorph. A clone made from the DNA of the Superman. Created to replace him should he perish, to destroy him should he turn from the light."
Damn.
They created him and planned for the long haul. These scientists planned for a weapon to take down Clark.
"What Cadmus has done here is an injustice, Superboy," Aqualad added.
"I live because of Cadmus!" He bellowed. "It is my home."
"I am glad you were made," I said simply. "But Cadmus did not birth you out of the kindness of their hearts. You're a genetic weapon to them, but you don't have to be what they made you."
Troia tilted her head at that. "Did they dominate your will? Make you listen? Make you attack us?"
The clone's frown grew with each statement. We needed to drive a wedge so that he could resist their control. I didn't see any of those G-Gnomes in the room, and I had to hope that meant a good sign.
"A-and if I wasn't? In control?"
"Then you deserve to be free, not a tool in their belt," I answered simply. "I don't know how they did it, but Cadmus made a person. As a person, you have the right to make choices of your own."
I remembered – so long ago now – philosophy courses in college during the first life. This scenario reminded me of a free will project one of my classmates made, using the idea of hypnosis as a key argument about determinism. If you only ever knew what people told you, and that those people told you the wrong things, then could you be blamed if you did the wrong things? Or did you have an inherent will to go your own way?
"If you decide you want to kick our ass because you want to, then by all means – try." Robin glared at me. "But if you let Cadmus make that choice, all you're doing is continuing their injustice. Allowing them to control you further."
Superboy hesitated, and it was in that hesitation that we would win. That we would turn him against his creators. He wasn't there yet, but it would be glorious.
Imagine how proud Superman would be if I helped deliver his son to him. That kind of gift would lead to life-long trust, and I'd need him one day to help against the Reach. I doubted three of Scarlet Scarab working in perfect tandem could defeat Superman.
"Help us get free," Aqualad started. "We know Superman. We can introduce you."
The hope in Superboy's conflicted eyes was almost too much to bear.
The whirring of the door opening forced me to tense, and I felt power growing in my eyes. I did not release it but instead held it at the ready, watching as a scientist entered the room alongside the hero Guardian and several genomorphs. And, terrifyingly, an unconscious Kid Flash in the telekinetic grip of a horned genomorph.
That scientist walked with the kind of cadence that made me think he was the head honcho, the one who had delivered Cadmus their prized cloned experiment. What a waste of knowledge. The kind of cloning tech on display here could change the world for good, could push Earth onto a galactic stage. Even a half-dozen Superboys could revolutionize Earth's ability to defend itself, or even to go on the offense.
"Activate the cloning process," the researcher stated, and whoa. "And get the weapon back in its pod!"
They were going to clone us.
Us.
Fuck.
A half-dozen of me with the Gift? That might be worse than of Superboy.
"Let Kid Flash go!" Robin shouted in desperation.
"I don't think I will – reverse engineering what makes him so so fast will be incredible," the man stated simply.
"Help us." Aqualad pled with his eyes, and Superboy was so close.
Close enough for me.
I let the energy loose. Twin blasts of light erupted from my eyes. They struck the bindings on my left wrist at the same time that I pulled with all of my might, and it was barely enough to pull one of them apart. With a dedicated hand free, I was able to more easily remove the second. A solid kick to the front, using all the might I could bear, hurled the front of the pod feet away to skitter to a halt.
The researcher backed away several paces, shouting for someone to do something. Guardian moved to intercept, face almost apologetic, while Superboy hesitated in place. I spotted the G-Gnome on the retreating scientist's shoulder start to glow, and it was pure instinct that brought Guardian's arm buckler up in time to deflect my eye blast from taking out the creature.
"You standing there or are you going to do something?" I shouted to the clone.
The telekinetic genomorph holding onto Kid Flash started to slowly retreat, pulling the speedster with him, but I moved.
Two G-Elves leaped into my path, claws first, and twin cuts along my shoulders dripped blood onto the cavernous floor. Wincing in pain, I pushed them both away with a flex of the arm, shot a look back to see Robin unlatching his restraints somehow – and knew they had it.
Becoming like the cavern wall, I raced ahead to chase the researcher that likely started all of this. Information about all of Cadmus and its wrongdoings was right there, and I was halfway to the door when I felt a telepathic urging from the creature on the hurried man's shoulder. The urge to stop, the urge to turn around, was the only warning before Guardian struck my armored back with the shield on his arm.
Genomorph chaos was all I could see as I turned to engage the likely dominated hero. There were more than a dozen of the agile creatures with razor claws attacking my friends, some before they were even fully out of their pods. Troia had to divert one from her back while she undid Aqualad's restraints.
"You're not cloning me!" I shouted to Guardian, shouted to the retreating doctor. "And I'm sorry, but you're not taking me down."
We traded blows back and forth, and he was a smart enough fighter to hold his own against a powered opponent. Even still, his shield was the most dangerous thing about him, and if it were even remotely close to vibranium, I might have respected it. Such as it was, it could do very little damage to the cavern wall armor my flesh possessed.
I finally managed a glancing blow to his ribcage, sending him spiraling back to the ground and knocking one of the G-Elves down behind him. Two more took its place, and I was far more concerned with their ability to cut me when one of them managed to chip as it struck.
"We need to get to KF!"
I nodded to Robin even as he tried to create distance, two electric wires zapping sense into an assailant. Thundering footsteps down the hallway preceeded the G-Trolls that entered the fray, and I, yet again, was frustrated that Superboy had yet to fight – on either side. Kid Flash was through that door, and we needed to cut some space!
Aqualad broke a valve carrying water for the fire sprinkler system and then twisted the ensuing water into a deluge of damage to a half-dozen genomorphs. It cleared a path for Troia to fly forward and slam, fist-first, into the first G-Troll's spiky carapace. Its flesh dented at the place of impact and remained that way even as it slammed into the ceiling above it and collapsed to the ground.
It did not get up.
Blood pooled from its wound like a punctured water balloon.
Two more threatened us immediately, and she set out to do her best, not bothering or able to hold back. Until Superboy started to move for us, we were on our own, and with a whirling dervish of superpowered Amazonian fists, maybe we didn't need him.
But I wasn't going to abandon the clone who deserved to live, who could not be allowed to serve Cadmus and their aims.
"Big guy, I know you don't know us, but we want to give you a life. A life you won't get here. Fight!" Robin shouted even as he flipped to the side, landed in a crouch, drew his cape around him, and then tossed four projectiles that left two G-Elves a simmering heap.
Aqualad sprinted into the corridor to assist Troia and to follow Kid Flash. We almost made it just as a G-Troll threw me to the floor with nothing but its pure massive body weight and tightened musculature. I stood in frustration, another of my limited number of eye blasts searing into its flesh.
<"The speedster plays possum.">
I froze as the Troll threw its shoulder forward, and I rolled to a stop several feet away, chipped armor groaning.
<"I will ensure the clone leaves with you, but I must remain here to protect my kind. Please, do no more permanent harm.">
The G-Troll hadn't gotten the hidden memo from the mysterious voice, and I narrowly avoided a stomping leg to my head. Troia kicked at the offending monster with her own smaller leg, but was no less lethal. The echoing crack of bone was impressive.
"Who are you?!"
Aqualad shot a confused look even as he swung a construct mace of hard-water into the head of the mammoth-like monster. It snapped back like it had taken a serious haymaker, stunned.
<"Later. You must escape now.">
When I spotted the Kryptonian clone rushing forward, I almost tensed to prep for pure annihilation. Instead, he leaped past me and sent a hammering, pulverizing fist into a G-Troll that blocked the path, knocking two more down behind it. Another joined it as Troia swung the creature itself to the right, and it bounced off the damaged wall and into the last of them, both falling to the floor.
"Guys, someone's-"
<"No.">
The word was so forceful I had no choice but to hold. It was a telepathic sensation equivalent to a cold shower, and I froze under its strength.
<"Cadmus cannot know that I an a telepath. You must escape, and I must continue my hidden vigil to keep my kind safe.">
The command pulled away slowly, and my own faculties returned to me. Frustrated, I wanted to ask if he was the one holding Kid Flash, apparently playing unconscious, but before I could verbalize the question, he confirmed it.
<"Superboy must not encounter more G-Gnomes. Their telepathic commands are individually weaker, but collectively stronger than I. If he is subverted again, there is nothing I can do. Escape. Now.">
I met Superboy's eyes.
"Glad to see you saw the light," Robin muttered as he raced to join us. He beamed toward the Kryptonian clone. "Way I see it, we got about fifteen seconds before all these genomorphs finish birthing."
He was right – G-Elves, G-Trolls, and more were emerging from their amniotic sacs by the moment, sprays of odd smelling liquids filling the corridor.
"Find Kid Flash?" Troia suggested, looking uneasily toward the clone.
"I can see him," Superboy murmured. "He is not far."
"Lead the way," Aqualad suggested, a bit of praise in his eyes to see the clone working with us, not against us.
Cadmus was not going to like any of this. If they were anything like the JLU version, they had the full weight of the U.S. government's taxpayer dollars to maintain security and build solutions for the superpowered threats to the world. I did not want to be on Amanda Waller's shitlist. Even if they weren't quite as impactful as the JLU version, they were still highly dangerous with an army of genomorphs to contract out.
Finding Kid Flash hovering in the grip of a horned genomorph's mind power, while said assailant waited for us to arrive, did not take long. As soon as I saw him, it clicked that this was the owner of the voice in my head, and I didn't know if the others knew what I did.
"Let him go, and we won't kick your ass," Robin challenged.
<"Make it convincing for the camera footage.">
I did not need to be told twice.
A zap from my neuroshock eyes did not strike the genomorph but instead the defensive storage container he raised with his mind instead. The maneuver dropped Kid Flash to the ground, and Aqualad raced forward to pull the speedster to safety.
Superboy, enraged, raced to the forefront but was telekinetically hurled into the ceiling, then the floor, then the walls. Troia tossed a piece of rebar, but he caught that projectile too, easily, and tossed it aside. Aqualad formed his shield in front of him, then blasted bolts of water from its surface, peppering the space with bursts of spiky, icy water.
The attacks did not land, but they did finally get me time to try to wake Kid Flash. And Robin time to blind the mutant with a flashbang gadget and then summarily prep to finish. Kid Flash wasn't responding – though from the half-lidded eyes and the hasty thumbs-up, it was clear this was a mirage.
And, then, the horned genomorph merely halted, hesitated, like a record skip. The moment gave me the opening and a neuroshock blast struck the mutant in the torso, before he could finish recovering with a telekinetic defense.
Kid Flash finally woke – or stopped pretending – and merely half-smirked as he raced to join the fray.
"C'mon, c'mon, we gotta go! Gotta go!"
More genomorphs pursued us down the hall, still wet with amniotic fluid. Robin gestured toward another corridor and shouted, "We need a miracle!"
Superboy and Kid Flash joined us as we raced in a different direction, angling for the stairwell and not the closing elevator. Troia did not follow us, instead racing for the doorway and pulling the shaft open in a fit of frustration.
"The researcher – he heads up!"
"Let's pull him down then," I muttered to Superboy and Aqualad.
Changing trajectories – and Kid Flash raced to give us a clear space to move, three Elves turned into heaps on the ground – we bounded for the elevator shaft.
Troia caught on quickly. With a burst of speed, she took off into the shaft and gripped at the bottom of the elevator car, now several sublevels up. I became like steel the moment I made purchase and then began to pull. The sound of heaving, groaning metal echoed throughout the chamber.
Superboy similarly took off into the air to join us. He flew and touched the bottom, making a grab for the metal, but… something was wrong.
He dangled.
No leverage.
"Why – why can't I fly?"
Without his strength contribution, the elevator car merely slowed but did not stop. The scientist likely reached his destination, and I frowned in frustration.
"The others – we gotta get them out of there," I suggested, pointing toward the base of the shaft where the light from Aqualad's active magic tattoos filtered into the darkness.
"But I- I should be able to-"
"No time," I stated again and let go of the car, falling in free fall but making a note that the scientist had disembarked somewhere in sublevel twenty.
<"The genomorph hive is fully active. I estimate you have approximately two minutes before you are overrun. I am doing all that I can to stall, but my position cannot be comprised. I am all that stands between Cadmus and the people I protect.">
"Would you get out of my head?" I shouted as Troia landed nearby gracefully, while a dejected Superboy merely slammed down in a heap that left a crater on the floor. "We get it. Too dangerous to go after the bad guy. We have to escape."
Kid Flash looked as though he wanted to say something, but he was too distracted by the oncoming horde to really verbalize the thought. When a torrent of water whips from Aqualad brought him a moment to think, he gestured toward his head and tapped his temple.
"I-I've got info, but if we wanna take advantage of it, it's a risk. Could make everything a lot worse."
"This isn't already worse?" Robin asked, a batarang between each finger, ready to throw. "We need a hail mary."
"No," I said simply. "This has gotten far bigger than any of us expected."
Kid Flash glanced toward Superboy, who still hadn't recovered from the knowledge that he couldn't fly. Maybe it was a skill he could learn – there were versions of Clark that had to learn everything he could do.
"It could get bigger," he merely said, almost apologetically.
"Get topside," I suggested, readying a blast of energy to let loose the moment more turn the corner. "Get a message out. This is already too much."
"We can handle it," Robin tried to say, but I pushed him lightly toward the right as G-Sprites showed their face for the first time, electrical auras crackling around them as they floated almost like cicadas down the hall. He started to protest, but one of the insect-like mutants swung its forelegs toward us and loosed a bolt of power. Aqualad tanked it with nothing but his body alone, tattoos burning to life, skin lightly burning from the effort.
Robin finally sighed then activated his grappeling hook gun. "All right, point taken!"
Troia was the last of us in the corridor, the doors finally snapping shut before the tide of genomorphs could overtake us.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 23:45 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Desmond rubbed at his forehead, trying to understand how he would explain any of this to the board of directors. An excuse that would assuage their anger, mollify their fury, stall their vengeance. The elevator had grinded to a halt somewhere in the teens, too damaged to continue, and both Guardian and Dubbilex were damn useless.
"All genomorphs will move to cut them off at sublevel one," Guardian declared.
Desmond followed him into one of the corridors, more than ten stories away from the sublevel in question, and gestured in frustration. "You're a bloody moron."
How could he not see it?
How could he not have realized it?
"Even if we could get to them in time," he began, "two of them can fly. Project: Kr can clear a path. They are not so limited as to be stopped easily."
"Then what?" Guardian asked. "You said it yourself that we cannot let them escape."
Desmond admired the G-Gnome programming that had settled into Guardian's mind – the subverted hero could not imagine going against his suggestion of teenage murder from earlier, and yet Desmond was far more worried about what the leaders of Cadmus would do to him in return if this failed.
"We do not have reliable muscle to stop them," he said slowly, and yet a realization struck him. "Guardian, come with me.."
Guardian was confused when they started to angle downstairs.
"This isn't going to get us up there faster."
"No, but it will give us the power we need."
Desmond's lab was not far, and even as the two of them ran, it may not have been in time to stall. The G-Gnome on his shoulder filtered information from below into his mind – the idiot kids were mere minutes away from escape, and they tore through any opponent they could.
Their orders had been clear – clone the kids, kill the originals, replace the sidekicks of the Justice League. Easy enough to accomplish, but they needed the strength to actually take down a group with as many heavy-hitters. Kr alone was enough to turn the tide.
No – Desmond had a job to do.
His life was on the line.
As he burst into his office, Guardian in tow, he quickly deactivated the security measures keeping one of their most prized treasures in storage. With a steady hand, Dr. Desmond pulled a vial marked Blockbuster and popped the cap.
"Doc, that is incredibly unsafe – you cannot be thinking of drinking that."
He shook his head. "I'm not."
An order to the G-Gnome on Guardian's shoulder forced the hero to capitulate. With a steady hand, Desmond poured the liquid into Guardian's open mouth. A telepathic command to swallow later, and Guardian began to change.
Desmond did not stop there.
They needed heavy hitters of their own.
Ignoring the agonizing results of Guardian's exposure to the Blockbuster formula behind him, Desmond gripped another vial in hand and tossed it back, drinking the foul liquid.
Muscles popped.
Bones snapped.
Flesh stretched.
Mass shifted.
Organs fluctuated.
Veins elongated.
A pair of opposing brutes roared.
Where Desmond's roar was a dignifed, gorilla-like scream of rage and frustration, Guardian's roar was instead one of agony, muted, different.
Without so much as a word, the two of them began to race through the corridor. Desmond in bounding, controlled leaps while Guardian slithered like a coiled, giant serpent.
JULY 4, 23:02 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
<"Time runs short. You must awaken. You must awaken now!">
I gasped.
Bound. Arms above my head. A reinforced glass surface allowing me to see outside of the containment pod. Various devices were visible on the interior of the pod, including tools for cutting and other perhaps surgical machinery.
Head woozy, I tried to gain my bearings and frowned the moment I saw, slightly at an angle, the others were trapped. Robin to my right, then Troia, then Aqualad. Conscious and as delirious as I was. But… Kid Flash? Where had he gone?
Looming in the center of the darkened chamber was a disheveled Kryptonian clone. Still within the deepest levels of Cadmus, they'd stuffed us into pods like the one he had called home. His bright blue eyes shone in the lights emanating from the pods, and the bruise someone had left on him during the fight was still visible on his left cheek.
I was not about to stay here any longer if I could help it. I tested the restraints, but they didn't budge. A blast from my eyes might get me out, and if I had something like Adrius's Exception, I could just blast the door open. The neuroshock blasts were more laser than concussive, but less superheated than regular laser.
But if I wanted to try that, I might set the clone off again.
… Information.
I needed information.
Apparently Aqualad was on the same page, because he asked, "Where is Kid Flash?"
A long moment of hesitation before Superboy spoke for the first time. "He ran."
Oh.
That was good news.
Very good news.
There would be a League response within the hour, surely.We only needed to stall long enough for us to survive this, then the mentors of the others would be here to kick ass and take names.
I was curious to hear of their reactions to all of this. Batman, the Flash, and Aquaman had no intentions of the three sidekicks forging ahead alone. Wonder Woman had only ever trained Troia as a Themiscyran warrior, not as a Leaguer. And… Superman had no idea this clone existed.
I pressed the next question in my mind. "Why do you want what Cadmus wants?"
Superboy tilted his head as though he did not understand the question.
"There's a big damn world out there," I said simply. "And a big universe full of other worlds beyond it. And your creators stuffed you down here? I've seen a lot of things in the universe, but creating you and then keeping you a big secret and locked away is one of the worst."
The clone did not initially respond. Maybe he could sense how much I was lying through my teeth – I'd witnessed the army of the Triarchy carpet bombing rebel hideouts with Reach tech.
This was nothing.
Robin cut in. "What's worse is that you listened to them, when they don't want what's good for you."
"How would you know what is good for me?"
The youngest simply responded, "Because Superman wouldn't want this for you."
The name earns a momentary fraction of anger visible across the clone's features.
"What makes you think Superman knows what is good?"
He did not ask it in a challenging way – the demeanor shifted, and he almost looked genuinely curious. Conflicted. He was insecure, and why wouldn't he be?
"Because he is Superman," I answered. "He's a paragon people try to follow. Does he always get it right? No – he's as flawed as any of us – but he wouldn't want you under their control beating up the sidekicks of his teammates."
He said nothing.
Troia needled in. "How much do you know of who you are?"
Almost robotically, the clone responded. "I am the Superboy. A genomorph. A clone made from the DNA of the Superman. Created to replace him should he perish, to destroy him should he turn from the light."
Damn.
They created him and planned for the long haul. These scientists planned for a weapon to take down Clark.
"What Cadmus has done here is an injustice, Superboy," Aqualad added.
"I live because of Cadmus!" He bellowed. "It is my home."
"I am glad you were made," I said simply. "But Cadmus did not birth you out of the kindness of their hearts. You're a genetic weapon to them, but you don't have to be what they made you."
Troia tilted her head at that. "Did they dominate your will? Make you listen? Make you attack us?"
The clone's frown grew with each statement. We needed to drive a wedge so that he could resist their control. I didn't see any of those G-Gnomes in the room, and I had to hope that meant a good sign.
"A-and if I wasn't? In control?"
"Then you deserve to be free, not a tool in their belt," I answered simply. "I don't know how they did it, but Cadmus made a person. As a person, you have the right to make choices of your own."
I remembered – so long ago now – philosophy courses in college during the first life. This scenario reminded me of a free will project one of my classmates made, using the idea of hypnosis as a key argument about determinism. If you only ever knew what people told you, and that those people told you the wrong things, then could you be blamed if you did the wrong things? Or did you have an inherent will to go your own way?
"If you decide you want to kick our ass because you want to, then by all means – try." Robin glared at me. "But if you let Cadmus make that choice, all you're doing is continuing their injustice. Allowing them to control you further."
Superboy hesitated, and it was in that hesitation that we would win. That we would turn him against his creators. He wasn't there yet, but it would be glorious.
Imagine how proud Superman would be if I helped deliver his son to him. That kind of gift would lead to life-long trust, and I'd need him one day to help against the Reach. I doubted three of Scarlet Scarab working in perfect tandem could defeat Superman.
"Help us get free," Aqualad started. "We know Superman. We can introduce you."
The hope in Superboy's conflicted eyes was almost too much to bear.
The whirring of the door opening forced me to tense, and I felt power growing in my eyes. I did not release it but instead held it at the ready, watching as a scientist entered the room alongside the hero Guardian and several genomorphs. And, terrifyingly, an unconscious Kid Flash in the telekinetic grip of a horned genomorph.
That scientist walked with the kind of cadence that made me think he was the head honcho, the one who had delivered Cadmus their prized cloned experiment. What a waste of knowledge. The kind of cloning tech on display here could change the world for good, could push Earth onto a galactic stage. Even a half-dozen Superboys could revolutionize Earth's ability to defend itself, or even to go on the offense.
"Activate the cloning process," the researcher stated, and whoa. "And get the weapon back in its pod!"
They were going to clone us.
Us.
Fuck.
A half-dozen of me with the Gift? That might be worse than of Superboy.
"Let Kid Flash go!" Robin shouted in desperation.
"I don't think I will – reverse engineering what makes him so so fast will be incredible," the man stated simply.
"Help us." Aqualad pled with his eyes, and Superboy was so close.
Close enough for me.
I let the energy loose. Twin blasts of light erupted from my eyes. They struck the bindings on my left wrist at the same time that I pulled with all of my might, and it was barely enough to pull one of them apart. With a dedicated hand free, I was able to more easily remove the second. A solid kick to the front, using all the might I could bear, hurled the front of the pod feet away to skitter to a halt.
The researcher backed away several paces, shouting for someone to do something. Guardian moved to intercept, face almost apologetic, while Superboy hesitated in place. I spotted the G-Gnome on the retreating scientist's shoulder start to glow, and it was pure instinct that brought Guardian's arm buckler up in time to deflect my eye blast from taking out the creature.
"You standing there or are you going to do something?" I shouted to the clone.
The telekinetic genomorph holding onto Kid Flash started to slowly retreat, pulling the speedster with him, but I moved.
Two G-Elves leaped into my path, claws first, and twin cuts along my shoulders dripped blood onto the cavernous floor. Wincing in pain, I pushed them both away with a flex of the arm, shot a look back to see Robin unlatching his restraints somehow – and knew they had it.
Becoming like the cavern wall, I raced ahead to chase the researcher that likely started all of this. Information about all of Cadmus and its wrongdoings was right there, and I was halfway to the door when I felt a telepathic urging from the creature on the hurried man's shoulder. The urge to stop, the urge to turn around, was the only warning before Guardian struck my armored back with the shield on his arm.
Genomorph chaos was all I could see as I turned to engage the likely dominated hero. There were more than a dozen of the agile creatures with razor claws attacking my friends, some before they were even fully out of their pods. Troia had to divert one from her back while she undid Aqualad's restraints.
"You're not cloning me!" I shouted to Guardian, shouted to the retreating doctor. "And I'm sorry, but you're not taking me down."
We traded blows back and forth, and he was a smart enough fighter to hold his own against a powered opponent. Even still, his shield was the most dangerous thing about him, and if it were even remotely close to vibranium, I might have respected it. Such as it was, it could do very little damage to the cavern wall armor my flesh possessed.
I finally managed a glancing blow to his ribcage, sending him spiraling back to the ground and knocking one of the G-Elves down behind him. Two more took its place, and I was far more concerned with their ability to cut me when one of them managed to chip as it struck.
"We need to get to KF!"
I nodded to Robin even as he tried to create distance, two electric wires zapping sense into an assailant. Thundering footsteps down the hallway preceeded the G-Trolls that entered the fray, and I, yet again, was frustrated that Superboy had yet to fight – on either side. Kid Flash was through that door, and we needed to cut some space!
Aqualad broke a valve carrying water for the fire sprinkler system and then twisted the ensuing water into a deluge of damage to a half-dozen genomorphs. It cleared a path for Troia to fly forward and slam, fist-first, into the first G-Troll's spiky carapace. Its flesh dented at the place of impact and remained that way even as it slammed into the ceiling above it and collapsed to the ground.
It did not get up.
Blood pooled from its wound like a punctured water balloon.
Two more threatened us immediately, and she set out to do her best, not bothering or able to hold back. Until Superboy started to move for us, we were on our own, and with a whirling dervish of superpowered Amazonian fists, maybe we didn't need him.
But I wasn't going to abandon the clone who deserved to live, who could not be allowed to serve Cadmus and their aims.
"Big guy, I know you don't know us, but we want to give you a life. A life you won't get here. Fight!" Robin shouted even as he flipped to the side, landed in a crouch, drew his cape around him, and then tossed four projectiles that left two G-Elves a simmering heap.
Aqualad sprinted into the corridor to assist Troia and to follow Kid Flash. We almost made it just as a G-Troll threw me to the floor with nothing but its pure massive body weight and tightened musculature. I stood in frustration, another of my limited number of eye blasts searing into its flesh.
<"The speedster plays possum.">
I froze as the Troll threw its shoulder forward, and I rolled to a stop several feet away, chipped armor groaning.
<"I will ensure the clone leaves with you, but I must remain here to protect my kind. Please, do no more permanent harm.">
The G-Troll hadn't gotten the hidden memo from the mysterious voice, and I narrowly avoided a stomping leg to my head. Troia kicked at the offending monster with her own smaller leg, but was no less lethal. The echoing crack of bone was impressive.
"Who are you?!"
Aqualad shot a confused look even as he swung a construct mace of hard-water into the head of the mammoth-like monster. It snapped back like it had taken a serious haymaker, stunned.
<"Later. You must escape now.">
When I spotted the Kryptonian clone rushing forward, I almost tensed to prep for pure annihilation. Instead, he leaped past me and sent a hammering, pulverizing fist into a G-Troll that blocked the path, knocking two more down behind it. Another joined it as Troia swung the creature itself to the right, and it bounced off the damaged wall and into the last of them, both falling to the floor.
"Guys, someone's-"
<"No.">
The word was so forceful I had no choice but to hold. It was a telepathic sensation equivalent to a cold shower, and I froze under its strength.
<"Cadmus cannot know that I an a telepath. You must escape, and I must continue my hidden vigil to keep my kind safe.">
The command pulled away slowly, and my own faculties returned to me. Frustrated, I wanted to ask if he was the one holding Kid Flash, apparently playing unconscious, but before I could verbalize the question, he confirmed it.
<"Superboy must not encounter more G-Gnomes. Their telepathic commands are individually weaker, but collectively stronger than I. If he is subverted again, there is nothing I can do. Escape. Now.">
I met Superboy's eyes.
"Glad to see you saw the light," Robin muttered as he raced to join us. He beamed toward the Kryptonian clone. "Way I see it, we got about fifteen seconds before all these genomorphs finish birthing."
He was right – G-Elves, G-Trolls, and more were emerging from their amniotic sacs by the moment, sprays of odd smelling liquids filling the corridor.
"Find Kid Flash?" Troia suggested, looking uneasily toward the clone.
"I can see him," Superboy murmured. "He is not far."
"Lead the way," Aqualad suggested, a bit of praise in his eyes to see the clone working with us, not against us.
Cadmus was not going to like any of this. If they were anything like the JLU version, they had the full weight of the U.S. government's taxpayer dollars to maintain security and build solutions for the superpowered threats to the world. I did not want to be on Amanda Waller's shitlist. Even if they weren't quite as impactful as the JLU version, they were still highly dangerous with an army of genomorphs to contract out.
Finding Kid Flash hovering in the grip of a horned genomorph's mind power, while said assailant waited for us to arrive, did not take long. As soon as I saw him, it clicked that this was the owner of the voice in my head, and I didn't know if the others knew what I did.
"Let him go, and we won't kick your ass," Robin challenged.
<"Make it convincing for the camera footage.">
I did not need to be told twice.
A zap from my neuroshock eyes did not strike the genomorph but instead the defensive storage container he raised with his mind instead. The maneuver dropped Kid Flash to the ground, and Aqualad raced forward to pull the speedster to safety.
Superboy, enraged, raced to the forefront but was telekinetically hurled into the ceiling, then the floor, then the walls. Troia tossed a piece of rebar, but he caught that projectile too, easily, and tossed it aside. Aqualad formed his shield in front of him, then blasted bolts of water from its surface, peppering the space with bursts of spiky, icy water.
The attacks did not land, but they did finally get me time to try to wake Kid Flash. And Robin time to blind the mutant with a flashbang gadget and then summarily prep to finish. Kid Flash wasn't responding – though from the half-lidded eyes and the hasty thumbs-up, it was clear this was a mirage.
And, then, the horned genomorph merely halted, hesitated, like a record skip. The moment gave me the opening and a neuroshock blast struck the mutant in the torso, before he could finish recovering with a telekinetic defense.
Kid Flash finally woke – or stopped pretending – and merely half-smirked as he raced to join the fray.
"C'mon, c'mon, we gotta go! Gotta go!"
More genomorphs pursued us down the hall, still wet with amniotic fluid. Robin gestured toward another corridor and shouted, "We need a miracle!"
Superboy and Kid Flash joined us as we raced in a different direction, angling for the stairwell and not the closing elevator. Troia did not follow us, instead racing for the doorway and pulling the shaft open in a fit of frustration.
"The researcher – he heads up!"
"Let's pull him down then," I muttered to Superboy and Aqualad.
Changing trajectories – and Kid Flash raced to give us a clear space to move, three Elves turned into heaps on the ground – we bounded for the elevator shaft.
Troia caught on quickly. With a burst of speed, she took off into the shaft and gripped at the bottom of the elevator car, now several sublevels up. I became like steel the moment I made purchase and then began to pull. The sound of heaving, groaning metal echoed throughout the chamber.
Superboy similarly took off into the air to join us. He flew and touched the bottom, making a grab for the metal, but… something was wrong.
He dangled.
No leverage.
"Why – why can't I fly?"
Without his strength contribution, the elevator car merely slowed but did not stop. The scientist likely reached his destination, and I frowned in frustration.
"The others – we gotta get them out of there," I suggested, pointing toward the base of the shaft where the light from Aqualad's active magic tattoos filtered into the darkness.
"But I- I should be able to-"
"No time," I stated again and let go of the car, falling in free fall but making a note that the scientist had disembarked somewhere in sublevel twenty.
<"The genomorph hive is fully active. I estimate you have approximately two minutes before you are overrun. I am doing all that I can to stall, but my position cannot be comprised. I am all that stands between Cadmus and the people I protect.">
"Would you get out of my head?" I shouted as Troia landed nearby gracefully, while a dejected Superboy merely slammed down in a heap that left a crater on the floor. "We get it. Too dangerous to go after the bad guy. We have to escape."
Kid Flash looked as though he wanted to say something, but he was too distracted by the oncoming horde to really verbalize the thought. When a torrent of water whips from Aqualad brought him a moment to think, he gestured toward his head and tapped his temple.
"I-I've got info, but if we wanna take advantage of it, it's a risk. Could make everything a lot worse."
"This isn't already worse?" Robin asked, a batarang between each finger, ready to throw. "We need a hail mary."
"No," I said simply. "This has gotten far bigger than any of us expected."
Kid Flash glanced toward Superboy, who still hadn't recovered from the knowledge that he couldn't fly. Maybe it was a skill he could learn – there were versions of Clark that had to learn everything he could do.
"It could get bigger," he merely said, almost apologetically.
"Get topside," I suggested, readying a blast of energy to let loose the moment more turn the corner. "Get a message out. This is already too much."
"We can handle it," Robin tried to say, but I pushed him lightly toward the right as G-Sprites showed their face for the first time, electrical auras crackling around them as they floated almost like cicadas down the hall. He started to protest, but one of the insect-like mutants swung its forelegs toward us and loosed a bolt of power. Aqualad tanked it with nothing but his body alone, tattoos burning to life, skin lightly burning from the effort.
Robin finally sighed then activated his grappeling hook gun. "All right, point taken!"
Troia was the last of us in the corridor, the doors finally snapping shut before the tide of genomorphs could overtake us.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 4, 23:45 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Desmond rubbed at his forehead, trying to understand how he would explain any of this to the board of directors. An excuse that would assuage their anger, mollify their fury, stall their vengeance. The elevator had grinded to a halt somewhere in the teens, too damaged to continue, and both Guardian and Dubbilex were damn useless.
"All genomorphs will move to cut them off at sublevel one," Guardian declared.
Desmond followed him into one of the corridors, more than ten stories away from the sublevel in question, and gestured in frustration. "You're a bloody moron."
How could he not see it?
How could he not have realized it?
"Even if we could get to them in time," he began, "two of them can fly. Project: Kr can clear a path. They are not so limited as to be stopped easily."
"Then what?" Guardian asked. "You said it yourself that we cannot let them escape."
Desmond admired the G-Gnome programming that had settled into Guardian's mind – the subverted hero could not imagine going against his suggestion of teenage murder from earlier, and yet Desmond was far more worried about what the leaders of Cadmus would do to him in return if this failed.
"We do not have reliable muscle to stop them," he said slowly, and yet a realization struck him. "Guardian, come with me.."
Guardian was confused when they started to angle downstairs.
"This isn't going to get us up there faster."
"No, but it will give us the power we need."
Desmond's lab was not far, and even as the two of them ran, it may not have been in time to stall. The G-Gnome on his shoulder filtered information from below into his mind – the idiot kids were mere minutes away from escape, and they tore through any opponent they could.
Their orders had been clear – clone the kids, kill the originals, replace the sidekicks of the Justice League. Easy enough to accomplish, but they needed the strength to actually take down a group with as many heavy-hitters. Kr alone was enough to turn the tide.
No – Desmond had a job to do.
His life was on the line.
As he burst into his office, Guardian in tow, he quickly deactivated the security measures keeping one of their most prized treasures in storage. With a steady hand, Dr. Desmond pulled a vial marked Blockbuster and popped the cap.
"Doc, that is incredibly unsafe – you cannot be thinking of drinking that."
He shook his head. "I'm not."
An order to the G-Gnome on Guardian's shoulder forced the hero to capitulate. With a steady hand, Desmond poured the liquid into Guardian's open mouth. A telepathic command to swallow later, and Guardian began to change.
Desmond did not stop there.
They needed heavy hitters of their own.
Ignoring the agonizing results of Guardian's exposure to the Blockbuster formula behind him, Desmond gripped another vial in hand and tossed it back, drinking the foul liquid.
Muscles popped.
Bones snapped.
Flesh stretched.
Mass shifted.
Organs fluctuated.
Veins elongated.
A pair of opposing brutes roared.
Where Desmond's roar was a dignifed, gorilla-like scream of rage and frustration, Guardian's roar was instead one of agony, muted, different.
Without so much as a word, the two of them began to race through the corridor. Desmond in bounding, controlled leaps while Guardian slithered like a coiled, giant serpent.
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- Location
- Alabama
Without any changes?
As a result of this -
- Match is mentioned far earlier.
- Troia has met the Team.
- Guardian has taken the Blockbuster formula alongside Desmond.
There are more subtle developments too that will come out more in the future from this as well.
Hey, I didn't mean anything by it.
I just pointed out, that it looks like nothing changed. I know that there's many butterfly flaps here at play.
Genuinely sorry, if that rubbed you the wrong way here.
- Location
- Alabama
You're good! I understand what you meant.
Sweeping changes are much more fun if they happen as a result of dominos.
Huh, updates have been coming out faster than I expected, nice
Also, speaking of skills to learn, man this made me go back and remember how many things Kevin could do and how much trial and error he had to go through, though I gotta say actually fully transforming his body to regenerate limbs and shape-shift like plastic man gotta be near the top, I think(he can do the key thing!), that and how strangely selective he manages to be when he absorbs DNA from the omnitrix to only get the latest aliens and their powers and quite literally infinite money if he gets his hand on a rare material
I know Cassian isn't Kevin so he's unlikely to obsess over it and all but man I'd like to see that war machine of a car be born again
Also, speaking of skills to learn, man this made me go back and remember how many things Kevin could do and how much trial and error he had to go through, though I gotta say actually fully transforming his body to regenerate limbs and shape-shift like plastic man gotta be near the top, I think(he can do the key thing!), that and how strangely selective he manages to be when he absorbs DNA from the omnitrix to only get the latest aliens and their powers and quite literally infinite money if he gets his hand on a rare material
I know Cassian isn't Kevin so he's unlikely to obsess over it and all but man I'd like to see that war machine of a car be born again
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2.5
- Location
- Alabama
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 00:26 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
To put it mildly, we moved quickly through the maze-like corridors filled with rooms of lab equipment, machinery, and a chamber designed to empower the grid of the facility using the G-Sprite's electrical abilities. To have thought it through that carefully to ensure they had a separate source of power than the larger D.C. power grid was impressive and ultimately guaranteed Cadmus would remain hidden.
Not after today.
Kid Flash raced ahead just before we could escape from sublevel one and slammed nearly face first into bay doors that sealed us inside.
"We are cut off from the street!" the speedster cried in frustration.
Superboy cracked his knuckles after a moment and settled with a high-powered fist into the metallic sealing doors. It did not budge. He gripped at the seam, tried to pull, and Aqualad moved to assist him, but… nothing.
"That won't work. These men think of everything," Troia nearly spat.
She was right.
These were designed to ensure no jailbreaks happened, to keep the G-Trolls and their massive bulks from escaping into the streets of the nation's capital. It was impressive security measure, one that would be entirely unnecessary as long as their telepathic controls never failed.
I pitied Superboy.
"Can you bore through that with your heat vision?" Kid Flash tried.
I pitied him more when no heat left his eyes. He shot a look toward me in more than slight frustration, and I shook my head. "If the shielding can hold back your strength, Superboy, then what I got packing behind the eyes isn't going to cut it."
Hmm. Adrius could have.
I… hated everything about that feeling.
Robin was already on it to solve it with his hacking ability but clearly was not getting through it quickly enough for us to have a way out. I glanced toward the ceiling, the floor, the walls.
"Can we go around the door?" I pointed to the four of us with some manner of enhanced strength.
Aqualad blinked, and Kid Flash considered it for a half-second and fervently shook his head. "That'd take longer than Robin would to crack, and we risk bringing the surface building on top of us."
We had precious moments to consider other solutions, even to try breaking radio silence to bring a message, but we were interrupted when a hideous noise whistled and hissed through the hallway. We saw the shadow of the monstrous thing before the source broke around the corner.
A creature of gray skin, human flesh, and spiked horns slithered around the corner like a snake, its lower half spiked and serpentine. Its upper half resembled a human torso, but much longer, with bits of skin too-stretched over its chest and shoulders visible in thin, cloying sheets. The arms were long, jagged, and bony claws replaced its fingers while a white protrusion at the elbow struck out nearly as long as a machete. The head shape was angular and pointed, its teeth far too human for its overall shape.
"Did they make a G-Xenomorph?" Kid Flash shouted.
"This way!" Robin directed, kicking open a nearly hidden security door and forcing us to redirect deeper into the facility.
I… fuck, these Cadmus people.
"I don't remember that one from the files!" Robin shouted as we ran from it, the writhing, lanky creature far too fast for how large it was.
"What's the plan, Cassian?" Troia pleaded.
I blinked.
We rounded the corner as I tried to think of a plan, ready to search for another exit. They had to have a hidden access door, in case their emergency systems failed. Redundancies were the name of the game. If we couldn't find that, then we buy Robin time to crack the security measures and get out.
The writhing serpentine genomorph monster swiped at us with its tail, and Aqualad narrowly avoided it with a quick tumble. It crawled through the chamber after us, and even as we continued to flee, it showed its impressive strength every time it moved aggressively, gouging holes in the floors, the walls, breaking furniture.
"I don't like running," I muttered, breaths heavy. "Hit this thing, hard."
Troia moved immediately to intercept it, flying backward with a slightly nervous expression.
Robin, however, twisted on me. "What? You just said we need to get out-"
"And we do." I grabbed for anything, settling for a concrete armor. Distantly, the sound of skittering genomorph feet settled into the hallway. "Robin, you need time."
Troia slammed her shoulder into the monster in a flying somersault. It nearly barreled out of the way, long red mane of hair visible as it whipped his head back in response.
"We can give it."
The youngest of us all hesitated for a small moment and then furiously continued typing, crouching into as hidden a position as he could. Aqualad nodded at my expression and conjured a circular shield of hard-water and a watery blade, dripping with magic ready to defend Robin.
Superboy did not acknowledge what I said verbally or with a gesture. Instead, he leaped in a fit of rage, roaring at the top of his lungs, and joined the tangling Amazonian with the mute creature. Kid Flash, noticing the sound of more genomorphs coming, pulled his goggles down, tightened his boots, and then raced away from the monster to engage with the oncoming genomorphs.
And I?
I took off into the air and delivered a concrete haymaker into the serpentine torso. It recoiled and then swiped with its claws, its bony elbow blade, and became a true whirlwind of danger. I threw arms up to defend myself, while Troia tried to deliver kicks to its head, its upper arms, its tail. In an opening, Superboy bludgeoned at the incredibly durable hide of the monster, then tried to flip around and upend the tail.
This thing?
It was damn strong.
Ignoring us, the creature swiped Superboy away and then leaped up and past Troia. I tried to grab it, to hold it aloft in the air, but I couldn't make purchase. Aqualad blocked its initial swipes with his shield, then twisted the shield into a series of spikes tipped in ice and tried to prove if this creature had any resistance to magic.
Hell, that was just as bad.
"Ugh, guys?!"
Kid Flash suddenly came to a stop in the doorway leading out. His eyes widened at what we were dealing with, but he was just as worried about something else.
"We got another one of these freaks leading a pack out here!"
Said freak made itself known with an entrance like the Kool-aid Man, ripping a hole through the wall and roaring as loudly and impressively as Superboy had. It was a muscular behemoth of a creature, body ultimately human in shape but bigger in every dimension. It had… ripped through its clothes as easily as it had its skin, which was left behind in a bloody mess. Its hide a graying blue, it was almost as alien as its friend.
"Why's it wearing a lab coat?" Robin asked, gripping from weapons on his utility belt with one hand while the other maintained his attempt at hacking.
…
The scientist?
It bounded mindlessly into the room, and Superboy abandoned all pretense of caring about his current opponent to try to beat the shit out of the doctor-turned-monster. Just as tanky and nigh impossible to injure as his friend, I unleashed a blast of light from my eyes with the hope it would give the clone a chance to do some damage.
It struck and burned at the outer layer of human skin from the one normal researcher, but did not seem to harm the new muscular flesh beneath. Exposed striations of corded flesh merely soaked the damage like it was nothing, but the surprise of the energy blast did give an opening Superboy exploited.
Troia grappled one of the other's limbs to the ground, its ginger hair shifting and wavering as it tried to wrestle her away. A concrete-covered fist slammed repeatedly into its exposed head, and a clipping of a batarang to an exposed bit of softer tissue spurted blood and stopped its counterattack.
Kid Flash peppered it with his fists in return, but they did nothing but sting like mosquitoes. G-Elves prepped to join the fray as they watched the duo of monsters wreck us.
"Kid, find something sharp and stab it."
His eyes widened beneath the goggles. "But I-"
"It can take it. Or go get the damn Elves!"
He glanced between the writhing, pinned monster and the Elves that Robin started fleeing. Then, he raced for them to keep away the lesser opponents.
I charged a neuroshock blast and released it into the monster's elongated neck, hoping the flesh would be softer and lead to more damage. Troia studied the gaping wound – likely a flesh wound on a creature like this – and then ultimately nodded, resolute.
An agreement passed between us.
Unspoken.
If this thing died here, then-
A gripping fist into the damaged spot, she heaved with all her strength, but its lithe body finally broke free and snapped its left arm upward to divert the blow that might have done it.
That might have killed it.
Troia pulled at the flesh of its arm and yanked away a whole segment from wrist to elbow. And…
Oh.
Oh fuck.
A golden sheen on its left arm, its body once warped around it and now exposed.
"….Guardian."
It- he shrieked.
"I got it! Come with me!" Robin shouted suddenly, breaking our stalled fight.
The Boy Wonder zipped with his grappling hook to cover as much space as he could in the room to escape, wrist computer still shimmering with a holographic screen. Aqualad and Superboy struggled to hold off the doctor who'd pulled a Hyde on himself, while I could see the tell-tale signs of Kid Flash's whipping speed trails as he held off the onslaught.
We were one G-Gnome mind control event away from ceasing any ability to fight back. We were one lucky strike from either Guardian or the asshole Hyde monsters from one of us losing our lives.
I… wasn't sure I saw a way out of this, that didn't lead us to Robin's escape route that may let these idiots out into the city.
But it was the best chance we had.
"I'm g-gonna weaken him," I suggested to Troia quickly. "Go!"
I did not wait for her reply or to see her response at all.
I let the concrete armor around my fist break away and then zipped forward as fast as I could allow in tight corners. A neuroshock blast diverted the Guardian monster's tail away to intercept– the last one I had the juice for – and then I grabbed for its shoulder.
And pulled.
The creature that once was Guardian, a known hero in the community, became slower, weaker, more fragile.
The Osmosian Gift's need to take in what was around it, to incorporate it into its usee, was at my command. I did not take the material of its fleshy genomorph-like muscle, nor the energy of its movement brimming within it. Instead, I tried to take its DNA, its basic building blocks to make them my own. To incorporate them into myself, temporarily.
Temporarily because I refused to kill Guardian.
I…
I felt stronger.
More agile.
Sense of smell and hearing sharper.
And…
Distressingly?
The bones of my arm strengthened and broke the skin of my elbow in a jolt of pain, until I, too, could stab with a sharpened bone blade. I had about a half-second to experiment on what swinging it might be like before Guardian shoved me forward, though it was noticably a weaker effort.
In the distance, the flashing light of the other fight caught my attention. Aqualad delivered a shocking grapple of electricity from his magical tattoos into the back of the once researcher, now monster. Superboy recovered from a prone state on the ground with a rage and then pummeled the monster in the abdomen. The muscled freak collapsed to the ground in rage, and he continued his Kryptonian onslaught.
"Let's go!"
I pushed with renewed strength – ever so slightly boosted from the borrowed DNA – and cleared some distance. A kick to the debilitated creature hurled it to the side, and a jab with the elbow blade left it with a leaking wound on its left shoulder.
The maneuver was not as effective as it could be, one that would likely be improved if I added armor to it. For as long as I still had the elongated bone blade, I was more focused on escaping than taking advantage. More importantly than the extra appendages and the enhanced senses, I'd slowed it down.
Kid Flash and Troia had joined Robin and called for us to hurry. I followed after them slowly, eyes never leaving the clone and the Atlantean. They'd knocked the muscled monster to his knees, and I shouted again for them to follow.
Aqualad had to physically pull the clone away, as he was far too thrilled to continue knocking the monster around.
But he relented and followed.
We booked it down the hall, Troia and I carving a path for the others to catch up. Genomorphs fell left and right, and after what I'd seen after the wound on what-was-once Guardian's neck, I pulled my punches more than I had before. These… these may as well be people. Monstrous people in a hive of mind controlled minions. Were they responsible? Was Guardian?
Kid Flash seemed the last to realize the discrepancy in my limbs as he helped Robin climb up and over a pile of debris we'd created during the fighting. "Uh, Cassian, do we need an ambulance for those bone things?"
"They'll go away in a few minutes," I explained, nearly out of breath and riddled with bruises. The excess ability I'd taken came with renewed vigor, but with each passing minute, the mutations to my own DNA would fade. "Temporary."
The mutation part that manifested physically confused me, compared to what happened with the Aerophibian or the others I'd encountered on Osmos V and temporarily borrowed. I hadn't grown a tail when I took on the dinosaur godzilla reject, nor wings when I gained permanently the ability to fly among others.
But this time? My bones changed shape, mutated. I could feel tightness in some of my muscles, as bits of bone threatened to poke up and form spikes like the genomorphs. What… was the difference?
"It's here!"
The Hyde monster and Guardian joined with a horde of genomorphs at the end of the corridor opposite us, while we raced to the exit Robin was about to open. The slithering snake monster was significantly slower than he had been before, not able to lead the pack like the others.
We… We might not get the time.
The four of us with enhanced strength and durability angled ourselves to block for the others. Seconds, only seconds-
"Now!"
The door pulled open at Robin's command, and to say we all tumbled into the exterior of Cadmus in a heap was an understatement. The midnight air was prominent, sounds of streets and bright city lights a much more welcome experience than the dark innards of the secret facility.
Aqualad was the last outside, a conjured shield in front of him flowing with magic to divert attention from the doorway. Robin forced the security doors to close in nearly the last possible second.
Squelch.
Shit.
Absolute horror as a G-Elf met its end between two heavy double doors, strong enough to hold a Kryptonian at bay. Blood, sinew, and bone spilled from a torso split in half, oozing like tube of yogurt.
Troia barely held her stomach.
Robin had nearly no reaction, while Kid Flash forced himself to look away.
"The League," Aqualad suggested as he tried to force us to recover, to keep our heads together. We'd gone through an experience together, one that was very much not over if those two hulking monsters continued to pursue us.
Kid Flash hurriedly radioed the Flash, while Robin carried a neatly coded message to Batman electronically. Aqualad held off himself, instead approaching an almost hesitant Superboy.
"This may not be over, friend, but I am glad to see you have chosen the side that would make Superman proud."
He seemed to study each of us, eyes lingering on Troia and then me. There was ire behind those eyes, a spark from the moonlight reflected above. The teenager was volatile, confused, and may react hostily at any moment.
And then he said something that merely made me pity him more than I already did.
"Why… how can he be proud? I can't fly."
The words fell on each of us, casting a pall over the scene. We stood in the exterior of the ruined lab, behind a fence that separated it from the street, and we could be ambushed at any moment. We couldn't sit here and worry about Superboy's words until later, when the danger was over.
"I can't fly either," Robin shared. "Despite the old bird theme. You know how many folks in Gotham think I can though?"
I held my hands up in surrender. "I cheat. But it doesn't matter right now. We need a perimeter, watching for if they try to either flee the scene or attack the streets. The League on the way?"
Superboy didn't let the moment go, but Kid Flash interrupted. "Flash says they'll be here in less than two minutes. Wotan was a big joke, apparently- the sun didn't even go out for a half-second."
I blinked at the weirdness of comic book stories, feeling the slow receding of the bone blades as my borrowed mutations faded.
"Still, we should-"
A flash of green light from the horizon high above the city was the only warning. Within a few short moments, the full roster of the Justice League descended from the heavens. Fliers like Superman and Wonder Woman moved of their own accord, while two Green Lanterns carried the street bound heroes. Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, the Flash, Batman, the Hawks? I wasn't sure where to even look at these folks, and the full details of sixteen legendary figures from the comics and other media were nearly too much to truly take in.
One thing was for certain – a roster like this would absolutely kick ass against the Reach. Canary could counter their Scarab sonic weapons, Red Tornado could ground their ships, the Flash could disturb their armor, and Captain Atom could unleash nuclear hell. It was one thing to read about the members on the news since arriving on Earth, or looking through Gabriel's files. But it was another thing entirely to see them physically in front of me.
They were not happy, and the teenagers were not clear about what they should do. Troia anguished under the piercing gaze of her elder sister. Aquaman, Kid Flash, and Robin faced down the challenging looks of their mentors. And John Stewart sized me up for several seconds, and it was clear to me that we would likely have a long conversation shortly.
Superboy tried not to hold too much hope in his eyes as he displayed the white solar suit, emblazoned with the red symbol of Superman. The true Kryptonian's expression was not the expression of joy, of easy-going acceptance, of fatherhood I expected a paragon to give.
"Where is the threat?" Superman asked instead, looking away from the clone and focusing instead on the group as a whole. "What happened here?"
"Below our feet is a massive underground laboratory," I answered uneasily. "Genetics research. As I, uh, am sure you can tell."
The clone did not turn to face me, instead trying to catch with pleading eyes that of his genetic father, who was ultimately avoiding it altogether.
"Superman, this is heavy," the boyish Captain Marvel stated, as thick-chested as the Kryptonian but mentally a child.
Batman stepped into the foreground, current chairman of the Justice League. His glare was as uneasy as I would expect it to be. Nothing had changed since I last spoke with him after the attack in Central City. "Full report. Now."
We could oblige.
JULY 5, 00:26 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
To put it mildly, we moved quickly through the maze-like corridors filled with rooms of lab equipment, machinery, and a chamber designed to empower the grid of the facility using the G-Sprite's electrical abilities. To have thought it through that carefully to ensure they had a separate source of power than the larger D.C. power grid was impressive and ultimately guaranteed Cadmus would remain hidden.
Not after today.
Kid Flash raced ahead just before we could escape from sublevel one and slammed nearly face first into bay doors that sealed us inside.
"We are cut off from the street!" the speedster cried in frustration.
Superboy cracked his knuckles after a moment and settled with a high-powered fist into the metallic sealing doors. It did not budge. He gripped at the seam, tried to pull, and Aqualad moved to assist him, but… nothing.
"That won't work. These men think of everything," Troia nearly spat.
She was right.
These were designed to ensure no jailbreaks happened, to keep the G-Trolls and their massive bulks from escaping into the streets of the nation's capital. It was impressive security measure, one that would be entirely unnecessary as long as their telepathic controls never failed.
I pitied Superboy.
"Can you bore through that with your heat vision?" Kid Flash tried.
I pitied him more when no heat left his eyes. He shot a look toward me in more than slight frustration, and I shook my head. "If the shielding can hold back your strength, Superboy, then what I got packing behind the eyes isn't going to cut it."
Hmm. Adrius could have.
I… hated everything about that feeling.
Robin was already on it to solve it with his hacking ability but clearly was not getting through it quickly enough for us to have a way out. I glanced toward the ceiling, the floor, the walls.
"Can we go around the door?" I pointed to the four of us with some manner of enhanced strength.
Aqualad blinked, and Kid Flash considered it for a half-second and fervently shook his head. "That'd take longer than Robin would to crack, and we risk bringing the surface building on top of us."
We had precious moments to consider other solutions, even to try breaking radio silence to bring a message, but we were interrupted when a hideous noise whistled and hissed through the hallway. We saw the shadow of the monstrous thing before the source broke around the corner.
A creature of gray skin, human flesh, and spiked horns slithered around the corner like a snake, its lower half spiked and serpentine. Its upper half resembled a human torso, but much longer, with bits of skin too-stretched over its chest and shoulders visible in thin, cloying sheets. The arms were long, jagged, and bony claws replaced its fingers while a white protrusion at the elbow struck out nearly as long as a machete. The head shape was angular and pointed, its teeth far too human for its overall shape.
"Did they make a G-Xenomorph?" Kid Flash shouted.
"This way!" Robin directed, kicking open a nearly hidden security door and forcing us to redirect deeper into the facility.
I… fuck, these Cadmus people.
"I don't remember that one from the files!" Robin shouted as we ran from it, the writhing, lanky creature far too fast for how large it was.
"What's the plan, Cassian?" Troia pleaded.
I blinked.
We rounded the corner as I tried to think of a plan, ready to search for another exit. They had to have a hidden access door, in case their emergency systems failed. Redundancies were the name of the game. If we couldn't find that, then we buy Robin time to crack the security measures and get out.
The writhing serpentine genomorph monster swiped at us with its tail, and Aqualad narrowly avoided it with a quick tumble. It crawled through the chamber after us, and even as we continued to flee, it showed its impressive strength every time it moved aggressively, gouging holes in the floors, the walls, breaking furniture.
"I don't like running," I muttered, breaths heavy. "Hit this thing, hard."
Troia moved immediately to intercept it, flying backward with a slightly nervous expression.
Robin, however, twisted on me. "What? You just said we need to get out-"
"And we do." I grabbed for anything, settling for a concrete armor. Distantly, the sound of skittering genomorph feet settled into the hallway. "Robin, you need time."
Troia slammed her shoulder into the monster in a flying somersault. It nearly barreled out of the way, long red mane of hair visible as it whipped his head back in response.
"We can give it."
The youngest of us all hesitated for a small moment and then furiously continued typing, crouching into as hidden a position as he could. Aqualad nodded at my expression and conjured a circular shield of hard-water and a watery blade, dripping with magic ready to defend Robin.
Superboy did not acknowledge what I said verbally or with a gesture. Instead, he leaped in a fit of rage, roaring at the top of his lungs, and joined the tangling Amazonian with the mute creature. Kid Flash, noticing the sound of more genomorphs coming, pulled his goggles down, tightened his boots, and then raced away from the monster to engage with the oncoming genomorphs.
And I?
I took off into the air and delivered a concrete haymaker into the serpentine torso. It recoiled and then swiped with its claws, its bony elbow blade, and became a true whirlwind of danger. I threw arms up to defend myself, while Troia tried to deliver kicks to its head, its upper arms, its tail. In an opening, Superboy bludgeoned at the incredibly durable hide of the monster, then tried to flip around and upend the tail.
This thing?
It was damn strong.
Ignoring us, the creature swiped Superboy away and then leaped up and past Troia. I tried to grab it, to hold it aloft in the air, but I couldn't make purchase. Aqualad blocked its initial swipes with his shield, then twisted the shield into a series of spikes tipped in ice and tried to prove if this creature had any resistance to magic.
Hell, that was just as bad.
"Ugh, guys?!"
Kid Flash suddenly came to a stop in the doorway leading out. His eyes widened at what we were dealing with, but he was just as worried about something else.
"We got another one of these freaks leading a pack out here!"
Said freak made itself known with an entrance like the Kool-aid Man, ripping a hole through the wall and roaring as loudly and impressively as Superboy had. It was a muscular behemoth of a creature, body ultimately human in shape but bigger in every dimension. It had… ripped through its clothes as easily as it had its skin, which was left behind in a bloody mess. Its hide a graying blue, it was almost as alien as its friend.
"Why's it wearing a lab coat?" Robin asked, gripping from weapons on his utility belt with one hand while the other maintained his attempt at hacking.
…
The scientist?
It bounded mindlessly into the room, and Superboy abandoned all pretense of caring about his current opponent to try to beat the shit out of the doctor-turned-monster. Just as tanky and nigh impossible to injure as his friend, I unleashed a blast of light from my eyes with the hope it would give the clone a chance to do some damage.
It struck and burned at the outer layer of human skin from the one normal researcher, but did not seem to harm the new muscular flesh beneath. Exposed striations of corded flesh merely soaked the damage like it was nothing, but the surprise of the energy blast did give an opening Superboy exploited.
Troia grappled one of the other's limbs to the ground, its ginger hair shifting and wavering as it tried to wrestle her away. A concrete-covered fist slammed repeatedly into its exposed head, and a clipping of a batarang to an exposed bit of softer tissue spurted blood and stopped its counterattack.
Kid Flash peppered it with his fists in return, but they did nothing but sting like mosquitoes. G-Elves prepped to join the fray as they watched the duo of monsters wreck us.
"Kid, find something sharp and stab it."
His eyes widened beneath the goggles. "But I-"
"It can take it. Or go get the damn Elves!"
He glanced between the writhing, pinned monster and the Elves that Robin started fleeing. Then, he raced for them to keep away the lesser opponents.
I charged a neuroshock blast and released it into the monster's elongated neck, hoping the flesh would be softer and lead to more damage. Troia studied the gaping wound – likely a flesh wound on a creature like this – and then ultimately nodded, resolute.
An agreement passed between us.
Unspoken.
If this thing died here, then-
A gripping fist into the damaged spot, she heaved with all her strength, but its lithe body finally broke free and snapped its left arm upward to divert the blow that might have done it.
That might have killed it.
Troia pulled at the flesh of its arm and yanked away a whole segment from wrist to elbow. And…
Oh.
Oh fuck.
A golden sheen on its left arm, its body once warped around it and now exposed.
"….Guardian."
It- he shrieked.
"I got it! Come with me!" Robin shouted suddenly, breaking our stalled fight.
The Boy Wonder zipped with his grappling hook to cover as much space as he could in the room to escape, wrist computer still shimmering with a holographic screen. Aqualad and Superboy struggled to hold off the doctor who'd pulled a Hyde on himself, while I could see the tell-tale signs of Kid Flash's whipping speed trails as he held off the onslaught.
We were one G-Gnome mind control event away from ceasing any ability to fight back. We were one lucky strike from either Guardian or the asshole Hyde monsters from one of us losing our lives.
I… wasn't sure I saw a way out of this, that didn't lead us to Robin's escape route that may let these idiots out into the city.
But it was the best chance we had.
"I'm g-gonna weaken him," I suggested to Troia quickly. "Go!"
I did not wait for her reply or to see her response at all.
I let the concrete armor around my fist break away and then zipped forward as fast as I could allow in tight corners. A neuroshock blast diverted the Guardian monster's tail away to intercept– the last one I had the juice for – and then I grabbed for its shoulder.
And pulled.
The creature that once was Guardian, a known hero in the community, became slower, weaker, more fragile.
The Osmosian Gift's need to take in what was around it, to incorporate it into its usee, was at my command. I did not take the material of its fleshy genomorph-like muscle, nor the energy of its movement brimming within it. Instead, I tried to take its DNA, its basic building blocks to make them my own. To incorporate them into myself, temporarily.
Temporarily because I refused to kill Guardian.
I…
I felt stronger.
More agile.
Sense of smell and hearing sharper.
And…
Distressingly?
The bones of my arm strengthened and broke the skin of my elbow in a jolt of pain, until I, too, could stab with a sharpened bone blade. I had about a half-second to experiment on what swinging it might be like before Guardian shoved me forward, though it was noticably a weaker effort.
In the distance, the flashing light of the other fight caught my attention. Aqualad delivered a shocking grapple of electricity from his magical tattoos into the back of the once researcher, now monster. Superboy recovered from a prone state on the ground with a rage and then pummeled the monster in the abdomen. The muscled freak collapsed to the ground in rage, and he continued his Kryptonian onslaught.
"Let's go!"
I pushed with renewed strength – ever so slightly boosted from the borrowed DNA – and cleared some distance. A kick to the debilitated creature hurled it to the side, and a jab with the elbow blade left it with a leaking wound on its left shoulder.
The maneuver was not as effective as it could be, one that would likely be improved if I added armor to it. For as long as I still had the elongated bone blade, I was more focused on escaping than taking advantage. More importantly than the extra appendages and the enhanced senses, I'd slowed it down.
Kid Flash and Troia had joined Robin and called for us to hurry. I followed after them slowly, eyes never leaving the clone and the Atlantean. They'd knocked the muscled monster to his knees, and I shouted again for them to follow.
Aqualad had to physically pull the clone away, as he was far too thrilled to continue knocking the monster around.
But he relented and followed.
We booked it down the hall, Troia and I carving a path for the others to catch up. Genomorphs fell left and right, and after what I'd seen after the wound on what-was-once Guardian's neck, I pulled my punches more than I had before. These… these may as well be people. Monstrous people in a hive of mind controlled minions. Were they responsible? Was Guardian?
Kid Flash seemed the last to realize the discrepancy in my limbs as he helped Robin climb up and over a pile of debris we'd created during the fighting. "Uh, Cassian, do we need an ambulance for those bone things?"
"They'll go away in a few minutes," I explained, nearly out of breath and riddled with bruises. The excess ability I'd taken came with renewed vigor, but with each passing minute, the mutations to my own DNA would fade. "Temporary."
The mutation part that manifested physically confused me, compared to what happened with the Aerophibian or the others I'd encountered on Osmos V and temporarily borrowed. I hadn't grown a tail when I took on the dinosaur godzilla reject, nor wings when I gained permanently the ability to fly among others.
But this time? My bones changed shape, mutated. I could feel tightness in some of my muscles, as bits of bone threatened to poke up and form spikes like the genomorphs. What… was the difference?
"It's here!"
The Hyde monster and Guardian joined with a horde of genomorphs at the end of the corridor opposite us, while we raced to the exit Robin was about to open. The slithering snake monster was significantly slower than he had been before, not able to lead the pack like the others.
We… We might not get the time.
The four of us with enhanced strength and durability angled ourselves to block for the others. Seconds, only seconds-
"Now!"
The door pulled open at Robin's command, and to say we all tumbled into the exterior of Cadmus in a heap was an understatement. The midnight air was prominent, sounds of streets and bright city lights a much more welcome experience than the dark innards of the secret facility.
Aqualad was the last outside, a conjured shield in front of him flowing with magic to divert attention from the doorway. Robin forced the security doors to close in nearly the last possible second.
Squelch.
Shit.
Absolute horror as a G-Elf met its end between two heavy double doors, strong enough to hold a Kryptonian at bay. Blood, sinew, and bone spilled from a torso split in half, oozing like tube of yogurt.
Troia barely held her stomach.
Robin had nearly no reaction, while Kid Flash forced himself to look away.
"The League," Aqualad suggested as he tried to force us to recover, to keep our heads together. We'd gone through an experience together, one that was very much not over if those two hulking monsters continued to pursue us.
Kid Flash hurriedly radioed the Flash, while Robin carried a neatly coded message to Batman electronically. Aqualad held off himself, instead approaching an almost hesitant Superboy.
"This may not be over, friend, but I am glad to see you have chosen the side that would make Superman proud."
He seemed to study each of us, eyes lingering on Troia and then me. There was ire behind those eyes, a spark from the moonlight reflected above. The teenager was volatile, confused, and may react hostily at any moment.
And then he said something that merely made me pity him more than I already did.
"Why… how can he be proud? I can't fly."
The words fell on each of us, casting a pall over the scene. We stood in the exterior of the ruined lab, behind a fence that separated it from the street, and we could be ambushed at any moment. We couldn't sit here and worry about Superboy's words until later, when the danger was over.
"I can't fly either," Robin shared. "Despite the old bird theme. You know how many folks in Gotham think I can though?"
I held my hands up in surrender. "I cheat. But it doesn't matter right now. We need a perimeter, watching for if they try to either flee the scene or attack the streets. The League on the way?"
Superboy didn't let the moment go, but Kid Flash interrupted. "Flash says they'll be here in less than two minutes. Wotan was a big joke, apparently- the sun didn't even go out for a half-second."
I blinked at the weirdness of comic book stories, feeling the slow receding of the bone blades as my borrowed mutations faded.
"Still, we should-"
A flash of green light from the horizon high above the city was the only warning. Within a few short moments, the full roster of the Justice League descended from the heavens. Fliers like Superman and Wonder Woman moved of their own accord, while two Green Lanterns carried the street bound heroes. Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, the Flash, Batman, the Hawks? I wasn't sure where to even look at these folks, and the full details of sixteen legendary figures from the comics and other media were nearly too much to truly take in.
One thing was for certain – a roster like this would absolutely kick ass against the Reach. Canary could counter their Scarab sonic weapons, Red Tornado could ground their ships, the Flash could disturb their armor, and Captain Atom could unleash nuclear hell. It was one thing to read about the members on the news since arriving on Earth, or looking through Gabriel's files. But it was another thing entirely to see them physically in front of me.
They were not happy, and the teenagers were not clear about what they should do. Troia anguished under the piercing gaze of her elder sister. Aquaman, Kid Flash, and Robin faced down the challenging looks of their mentors. And John Stewart sized me up for several seconds, and it was clear to me that we would likely have a long conversation shortly.
Superboy tried not to hold too much hope in his eyes as he displayed the white solar suit, emblazoned with the red symbol of Superman. The true Kryptonian's expression was not the expression of joy, of easy-going acceptance, of fatherhood I expected a paragon to give.
"Where is the threat?" Superman asked instead, looking away from the clone and focusing instead on the group as a whole. "What happened here?"
"Below our feet is a massive underground laboratory," I answered uneasily. "Genetics research. As I, uh, am sure you can tell."
The clone did not turn to face me, instead trying to catch with pleading eyes that of his genetic father, who was ultimately avoiding it altogether.
"Superman, this is heavy," the boyish Captain Marvel stated, as thick-chested as the Kryptonian but mentally a child.
Batman stepped into the foreground, current chairman of the Justice League. His glare was as uneasy as I would expect it to be. Nothing had changed since I last spoke with him after the attack in Central City. "Full report. Now."
We could oblige.
If I remember correctly we can now get to see superman try to do anything but acknowledge superboy as anything close to a family for a long while, this is gonna be fun(crazy that Luthor of all people was more open minded about it)
Also trial and error starting time for dna absorbing it seems, yay
Also trial and error starting time for dna absorbing it seems, yay
2.6
New
- Location
- Alabama
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 4:16 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
To say that I was running on fumes by now was an understatement. It had been nearly twenty hours since I slept, and the exhaustion of fighting for your life settled into your bones once the adrenaline finally receded.
The funny thing was that I didn't even know if it was actually adrenaline that coursed through my body or if it was some other compound. I looked human enough - the younger you were as as Osmosian, the more likely you were to resemble a human. But if I ever felt like I had the time, doing some tests to see the differences internally might be a fun thing to ask someone to perform.
With consent. And not from a mad scientist - I didn't want anyone to perform any Cadmus on my damn body.
Regardless, despite the exhaustion, the excitement of using the interior of the Hall of Justice as a place to wait? An iconic location from the history of these characters surrounded me, and I was struck by how mundane everything was, even though I knew it was genuinely worthy of the reputation. This place had once been the lynchpin of the League's operations, one that the public believed was the face of the organization of Earth's greatest defenders. They didn't know about the Watchtower satellite high above their heads, and before yesterday, neither did the more experienced sidekicks.
A mundane library whose only genuinely fantastic attribution to that legacy was the likely incredibly powerful supercomputer that rested along the wall, complete with a monitor bigger than most living room walls and capable of displaying data screens more numerous and detailed than anything you could imagine. Given the secrecy of the League's true headquarters, I couldn't help but wonder how real the data on display was - what did they let us see as visitors versus what they let the true League itself see?
They'd shuffled us quickly to the Hall in the aftermath of the conflict so that they could handle the fallout themselves and the follow-up investigations. Something I hadn't heard Kid Flash tell them had stirred them to a frenzy, and I doubted they'd leave any inch of the place uncovered given the all points bulletin. The robotic Red Tornado had been left alone to watch over us while the rest investigated the interior.
"I do not like leaving this to them," I had said aloud. "We should be helping clean everything up."
The others had agreed with the sentiment, but it had been Aqualad who voiced the opposing opinion, head heavy in his hands while he hunched atop a couch, impatient. "We have pressed our luck too much already. Much of what we did was against their wishes, and-"
"Yeah? Well, maybe Speedy was right," Kid Flash had argued, the speedster who had yet to stop pacing. "We should have our own say in what's happening."
"I don't disagree with that," I had acknowledged, though I was less hostile to the idea of listening to their mentors than the others seemed to be. This whole mission arose out of a sense of betrayal, and even if they weren't quite as upset as Speedy had been, there was still a frustration over the secrets the adults in their lives kept from them, the lies they told them. "Still, I don't doubt they can clear the place themselves."
I wasn't sure where to place the reactions of the others, especially Troia and Superboy. This was the first time the girl had interacted with any of them, apart from me, and certainly the first time she'd intentionally thrown herself in harm's way on purpose. That nervousness was evident in her posture when the excitement finally wore off, and it had been difficult to get Kid Flash to stop pestering her for questions about her life before this point.
And Superboy was a blank slate, whose only real experience of freedom and agency had begun hours ago. Mostly, he was a ball of pent-up frustration that we rightly refused to poke. He needed some space and a friend to listen to, when he was ready, and I wondered how long that may take.
If I'd gotten the cold shoulder from either of my fathers, I doubted I'd have reacted much differently.
I would never forget the moment the League arrived on site, en masse, to handle the clean-up of the Cadmus debacle. Damn near every member descended from the sky like modern-day gods - some with the assistance of their own powers, some with the help of the two Green Lanterns on their payroll. It had been a wondrous sight, but it was marred rather quickly when Superman had refused to speak anything of worth to the clone.
That was something that... I'd have to investigate.
In lieu of other points, I had redirected the conversation.
"You told the Flash something that freaked him out," I had finally mentioned to the speedster. Earlier, during the initial moments and reporting of what had happened, the elder man's reaction had been one of shock. Maybe he had had a strong reaction to Superboy, but my gut told me it was something else.
The redhead had paused, glancing toward Superboy, and then cleared his throat. "Yeahhh. Before that G-Goblin caught me on my way out to get a warning to the League, I found something about a Project: Match in the files on that sublevel you mentioned, Rob."
The Boy Wonder, who had been lazily resting on the couch and maybe even had been in the middle of the kind of power-nap only someone who pulled all nighters in Gotham might need, had immediately tuned in to the speedster's words.
"When Dubbilex offered to help, came up with his plan, I asked him about Project: Match. The guy told me he'd explain in exchange-"
"You made an agreement with a villain?"
The redhead had glanced at the Amazonian's question and had shook his head. Troia's hands had been crossed in front of her, though her eyes had been intense. "He wasn't a villain. He was helping."
"At the time, you trusted he was telling the truth," she had asked again, more forcefully. "You trusted someone aligned with a group that debased my culture."
"Hey, that doesn't feel right," Robin had interceded, earning a deepened frown from arguably the strongest person in the room.
I had stepped in. "From what I understand, you were in an impossible situation. We all were. And this Dubbilex is as much a victim of Cadmus as, uh, Superboy."
The clone had cracked his knuckles in quiet frustration. "I am not a victim."
I... wasn't going to poke that bear.
"You do not have to be," Aqualad had said gently. "You can be more."
"I wasn't a victim at all," he had shouted back.
This time, the moment had held, and it had been Robin who had cleared his throat. "KF, can you continue?"
It had taken several moments for us to sidestep the outburst from the clone. These were conversations meant to be had when the moments were not fresh.
The speedster had diverted from Troia's piercing blue eyes. "Right. It - uh - he did tell me some things. Project: Match was another cloning project. One that was unstable, but maybe as dangerous as Superboy. I told the Flash where this Match was, how to get inside the chamber where that clone was hidden and on ice."
Another?
Superboy's reaction had been tense but uncertain.
"A clone of what?" Robin had asked.
"Dubbilex didn't know," Kid Flash explained. "He told me he learned of it through overhearing some of that Desmond guy's thoughts, but had never had the opportunity to investigate it himself. The G-Goblin was created after they stopped working on Match."
Hmm.
"Desmond was the researcher?" I had asked, head turned toward Superboy but not sure if he would give an answer.
"He was the lead," the boy had slowly explained, voice filled with an undercurrent of barely suppressed anger. "Amanda Spence was his second. Not sure where she is, but Desmond was the-"
"Monstrous human guy?" Robin had asked, earning a nod from the clone.
"And the other was Guardian," I had surmised. "Don't suppose both of them always had the power to turn into a monster?"
Aqualad had denied it. "Unless Guardian hid his abilities well, the man once patrolled a city like any of us. He never displayed such a transformation."
"Desmond did something to himself, I'm sure of it," Robin had explained. "I've been trying to study what files I got - gonna take days at best to scrounge through it all. Longer to try to recover any redacted information, if we even can. There was something there - an enhancement drug."
"So he pumped Guardian full of mind control happy thoughts and then made him take his vitamins?" Kid Flash had pondered.
"This organization? It is truly horrible."
I did not disagree with Troia's assessment. Genetic experiments, new organisms, drugs capable of turning someone into a being capable of tanking hits from a Kryptonian and dishing out solid damage in return?
"What are the odds the government's funding this?"
My question did not have an answer, but it did have everyone concerned that I may be onto something.
I had wondered, not for the first time since the word Cadmus appeared, how deeply this conspiracy went. And whether or not someone like Waller, Eiling, or others were connected. If it were, it bolstered terrible news for everyone involved.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 6:57 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Troia settled onto the park bench. Early morning joggers passed a memorial to one of Man's World's conflicts and paid little attention to the girl, dressed in civilian clothes despite a few taped bandages mostly hidden beneath her clothing. Next to her, dressed as though she was about to take a day at the office, was her elder sister, sporting a tight bun and a pair of stylish sunglasses across her nose.
"What questions do you have?"
Troia considered launching into the dozens that filtered through her mind all at once, but she settled onto one to begin. "Why had you not done something about this before now? Our cultural customs mocked, with scientists embarking on the role of our gods in their names, in their stories."
The woman in the guise of Diana Prince drank from a thermos, before offering some of the coffee to the younger girl, who gladly took a sip.
"Man's World remembers the old ways, sometimes fondly and sometimes with dissent," Diana began carefully. "The cultural and religious syncretism is a heavy load to unravel, sister, and the modern day world is a mixture of many influences from other cultures. Does the organization that delivers packages bought online - and borrows our name - offend us merely for using it as an influence?"
"Why shouldn't it?" she asked. "You truly think the Queen would approve?"
Diana paused for a long moment and then chuckled. "No, I don't believe she would. Man's World both respects, reveres, and acknowledges our role in history. The number of references to the old ways increases and decreases each year. How, Troia, would you expect me to isolate which of these organizations does so to offend or does so innocently?"
"I don't know," the girl admitted, "but surely this one would have been one to suspect. Cadmus made new life, Diana. Why didn't you stop them? They're right under your nose, in the city you patrol."
The woman smiled slightly, gently. "That's the age old question, is it not? It has merit, sister, but it is a variation of one I have heard launched at myself and at my peers every day since I began using my abilities to intervene in Man's World.
"Why did you not save my brother from a car accident? Why did you let that train derail? Why is Cheetah still at large? Why didn't you impose a ceasefire in the Middle East?"
Troia studied a group of joggers who halted long enough to pull frisbees from their bag. She... smiled, slightly, at the miniature discus made of plastic that soared nearby and landed expertly in the target's hands.
"How do you deal with it?"
"When you figure it out, let me know."
Troia chuckled.
"More seriously, sister, this is the second instance of your following in my footsteps. This time, on purpose."
She met Diana's eyes uneasily. "Yes. I'm- I'm sorry, but I just-"
"You have no need to apologize. I made similar decisions in my youth - I was not much older than you when I joined the warfront in Man's World," the elder Amazon explained softly. "What you need to decide is if this is something you wish to pursue."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"You mean to let me choose?"
"Yes."
Troia hesitated.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 8:24 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
John Stewart studied the teenager in the annals of the Hall of Justice's medical bays. A more private place than the public-fronting areas, it was empty this time of day after the insanity of the previous night.
A pale pink undertone to the skin that almost was natural. Dark bags under his eyes and ridges around them that deepened in the right light. Long fingers. Broad features. Well-built when compared to others around the same age who were human. He rested with a hunch to his weight, which could be a natural state as easily as it could be the way he carried a burden that he did not do well to hide.
A ring scan would be rather obvious - one of the downsides to the Power Ring was its lack of subtlety. He could confirm the differences rather easily with that, but he'd ask for permission first. John was wary of the alien's intentions but he'd proven on more than one occasion to have earned the benefit of the doubt.
Perhaps even trust.
"How are you feeling?"
Cassian blinked. "That's not what I expected you to ask. I thought you'd get to business."
John smirked. "Business is coming. Just wanted to check in with you."
"I'm fine. Crazy night."
The man rose an eyebrow. "An understatement if I've ever heard one."
The alien had merely shrugged.
"Listen, I've been off world. Jordan has been busy," he began, "and we should have checked in on you sooner."
Cassian said nothing for a moment. Then, "There's always something going on with you Leaguers."
John sensed the tension and remembered reading something about a similar interaction in Central City, of Cassian questioning the League's methods. "I escorted a ship of Incursean refugees through Gordanian space."
"On a scale of bad to bad, how bad is that?"
"Very bad."
For a moment, Cassian continued to say nothing before he just sighed. "All right, you get a pass."
"I'm happy to hear that," John said slowly.
"What's the League going to do with Superboy?"
The question was one he'd expected, and John settled into his seat just a bit more. "In the short term? Kid Flash has agreed to house him until accommodations are made. In the long term, close monitoring for any uncertain behavioral traits."
"Accommodations?"
John nodded once, knowing that he was mere days away from using his Power Ring to fix-up the rocks and other debris from the decommissioned Mount Justice.
"There is an idea," the Lantern began, "to bring together the sidekicks onto a covert team for the League. To be-"
"Like the Plumbers."
John hesitated and then nodded. "More or less. The League acts in the open, and we send this team on secret missions. The missions double as real-world experience to eventually do what we do, in the open."
Cassian's face was contemplative. "I like the idea. And you want me to join them."
John had heard the conversation for and against bringing the alien kid on board. It had not been without disagreements, and Hal and John personally considered the matter differently.
"The League believes it best to bring you into the fold," John said carefully. "You've done good work in the past, but I don't like a loose cannon."
The alien blushed slightly. "Oh. Well, I don't-"
"There're quite a few folks who think you need a punishment for nearly starting a nuclear war on that submarine," John stated simply, trying to not reveal where he judged the situation had landed. "And some in the League have reservations about your methods. It's not often that an alien immigrates to a planet like Earth, much less one in a situation like yourself."
Cassian raised a hand defensively. "In my defense, I - should have handled that sub differently, sure. There's always room for improvement."
John hesitated and then sighed, exasperated.
"As for why I'm here?" the boy leaned in. "You all are rather inspirational, from the stories I've heard. Following in your footsteps felt like a good use of the Gift."
"The Gift?"
Cassian touched the tabletop with his finger, his hand becoming like granite. "Your ring database doesn't know anything about Osmosians?"
John shook his head. "Space is vast, kid. Your planet is in Frontier Space, not regularly patrolled. Our records aren't perfect, and I'm no Honor Guard - I don't even have access to a percentage point of what they do."
That was the truth, John surmised. He'd heard reference to him as an Osmosian in the reports of Cassian's visit to Oa, but that report had been bare of many details and told the League next to nothing about the kid's ultimate intentions. As for the term itself, John had never heard of an Osmosian before that day, but there were plenty of sentient alien species in the universe he'd never encounter himself, ring database or no.
"Well, then let me tell you about us," Cassian offered.
John nodded, but held up a finger. "Before we get into story time, would you consent to a scan from my ring? It's standard operating procedure when a new form of life is encountered, to add to the records on Oa."
"What... kind of scans?"
"Mostly of a medical kind," he explained simply. "There are diagnostics that check for things about you that might be common with other species. Tests your capabilities."
Cassian hesitated for a long moment and then nodded. "How long does it take?"
"Initial testing is a few moments," John answered. "More detailed scanning should be done in a dedicated location with more equipment, like one of the-"
"Sector Houses?"
John smiled. "Yes. Of course."
At Cassian's consent, the Power Ring released a jet of soft green light that traced itself around the alien's body. Tests were performed at a fast pace, revealing information about the alien's overall body and health to be added to the records. Oa's databases were an important part of what made the Green Lantern Corps able to function. If these initial scans helped to aid the Corps in their endeavors when interacting with Cassian's species in the future, then John was glad to have begun the process.
"Anything revealed?"
John smiled as the light faded. "I'm sure there will be plenty to sift through, but that takes time and more dedicated equipment. Now - what can you tell me?"
Cassian settled further into his chair and began to speak.
JULY 5, 4:16 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
To say that I was running on fumes by now was an understatement. It had been nearly twenty hours since I slept, and the exhaustion of fighting for your life settled into your bones once the adrenaline finally receded.
The funny thing was that I didn't even know if it was actually adrenaline that coursed through my body or if it was some other compound. I looked human enough - the younger you were as as Osmosian, the more likely you were to resemble a human. But if I ever felt like I had the time, doing some tests to see the differences internally might be a fun thing to ask someone to perform.
With consent. And not from a mad scientist - I didn't want anyone to perform any Cadmus on my damn body.
Regardless, despite the exhaustion, the excitement of using the interior of the Hall of Justice as a place to wait? An iconic location from the history of these characters surrounded me, and I was struck by how mundane everything was, even though I knew it was genuinely worthy of the reputation. This place had once been the lynchpin of the League's operations, one that the public believed was the face of the organization of Earth's greatest defenders. They didn't know about the Watchtower satellite high above their heads, and before yesterday, neither did the more experienced sidekicks.
A mundane library whose only genuinely fantastic attribution to that legacy was the likely incredibly powerful supercomputer that rested along the wall, complete with a monitor bigger than most living room walls and capable of displaying data screens more numerous and detailed than anything you could imagine. Given the secrecy of the League's true headquarters, I couldn't help but wonder how real the data on display was - what did they let us see as visitors versus what they let the true League itself see?
They'd shuffled us quickly to the Hall in the aftermath of the conflict so that they could handle the fallout themselves and the follow-up investigations. Something I hadn't heard Kid Flash tell them had stirred them to a frenzy, and I doubted they'd leave any inch of the place uncovered given the all points bulletin. The robotic Red Tornado had been left alone to watch over us while the rest investigated the interior.
"I do not like leaving this to them," I had said aloud. "We should be helping clean everything up."
The others had agreed with the sentiment, but it had been Aqualad who voiced the opposing opinion, head heavy in his hands while he hunched atop a couch, impatient. "We have pressed our luck too much already. Much of what we did was against their wishes, and-"
"Yeah? Well, maybe Speedy was right," Kid Flash had argued, the speedster who had yet to stop pacing. "We should have our own say in what's happening."
"I don't disagree with that," I had acknowledged, though I was less hostile to the idea of listening to their mentors than the others seemed to be. This whole mission arose out of a sense of betrayal, and even if they weren't quite as upset as Speedy had been, there was still a frustration over the secrets the adults in their lives kept from them, the lies they told them. "Still, I don't doubt they can clear the place themselves."
I wasn't sure where to place the reactions of the others, especially Troia and Superboy. This was the first time the girl had interacted with any of them, apart from me, and certainly the first time she'd intentionally thrown herself in harm's way on purpose. That nervousness was evident in her posture when the excitement finally wore off, and it had been difficult to get Kid Flash to stop pestering her for questions about her life before this point.
And Superboy was a blank slate, whose only real experience of freedom and agency had begun hours ago. Mostly, he was a ball of pent-up frustration that we rightly refused to poke. He needed some space and a friend to listen to, when he was ready, and I wondered how long that may take.
If I'd gotten the cold shoulder from either of my fathers, I doubted I'd have reacted much differently.
I would never forget the moment the League arrived on site, en masse, to handle the clean-up of the Cadmus debacle. Damn near every member descended from the sky like modern-day gods - some with the assistance of their own powers, some with the help of the two Green Lanterns on their payroll. It had been a wondrous sight, but it was marred rather quickly when Superman had refused to speak anything of worth to the clone.
That was something that... I'd have to investigate.
In lieu of other points, I had redirected the conversation.
"You told the Flash something that freaked him out," I had finally mentioned to the speedster. Earlier, during the initial moments and reporting of what had happened, the elder man's reaction had been one of shock. Maybe he had had a strong reaction to Superboy, but my gut told me it was something else.
The redhead had paused, glancing toward Superboy, and then cleared his throat. "Yeahhh. Before that G-Goblin caught me on my way out to get a warning to the League, I found something about a Project: Match in the files on that sublevel you mentioned, Rob."
The Boy Wonder, who had been lazily resting on the couch and maybe even had been in the middle of the kind of power-nap only someone who pulled all nighters in Gotham might need, had immediately tuned in to the speedster's words.
"When Dubbilex offered to help, came up with his plan, I asked him about Project: Match. The guy told me he'd explain in exchange-"
"You made an agreement with a villain?"
The redhead had glanced at the Amazonian's question and had shook his head. Troia's hands had been crossed in front of her, though her eyes had been intense. "He wasn't a villain. He was helping."
"At the time, you trusted he was telling the truth," she had asked again, more forcefully. "You trusted someone aligned with a group that debased my culture."
"Hey, that doesn't feel right," Robin had interceded, earning a deepened frown from arguably the strongest person in the room.
I had stepped in. "From what I understand, you were in an impossible situation. We all were. And this Dubbilex is as much a victim of Cadmus as, uh, Superboy."
The clone had cracked his knuckles in quiet frustration. "I am not a victim."
I... wasn't going to poke that bear.
"You do not have to be," Aqualad had said gently. "You can be more."
"I wasn't a victim at all," he had shouted back.
This time, the moment had held, and it had been Robin who had cleared his throat. "KF, can you continue?"
It had taken several moments for us to sidestep the outburst from the clone. These were conversations meant to be had when the moments were not fresh.
The speedster had diverted from Troia's piercing blue eyes. "Right. It - uh - he did tell me some things. Project: Match was another cloning project. One that was unstable, but maybe as dangerous as Superboy. I told the Flash where this Match was, how to get inside the chamber where that clone was hidden and on ice."
Another?
Superboy's reaction had been tense but uncertain.
"A clone of what?" Robin had asked.
"Dubbilex didn't know," Kid Flash explained. "He told me he learned of it through overhearing some of that Desmond guy's thoughts, but had never had the opportunity to investigate it himself. The G-Goblin was created after they stopped working on Match."
Hmm.
"Desmond was the researcher?" I had asked, head turned toward Superboy but not sure if he would give an answer.
"He was the lead," the boy had slowly explained, voice filled with an undercurrent of barely suppressed anger. "Amanda Spence was his second. Not sure where she is, but Desmond was the-"
"Monstrous human guy?" Robin had asked, earning a nod from the clone.
"And the other was Guardian," I had surmised. "Don't suppose both of them always had the power to turn into a monster?"
Aqualad had denied it. "Unless Guardian hid his abilities well, the man once patrolled a city like any of us. He never displayed such a transformation."
"Desmond did something to himself, I'm sure of it," Robin had explained. "I've been trying to study what files I got - gonna take days at best to scrounge through it all. Longer to try to recover any redacted information, if we even can. There was something there - an enhancement drug."
"So he pumped Guardian full of mind control happy thoughts and then made him take his vitamins?" Kid Flash had pondered.
"This organization? It is truly horrible."
I did not disagree with Troia's assessment. Genetic experiments, new organisms, drugs capable of turning someone into a being capable of tanking hits from a Kryptonian and dishing out solid damage in return?
"What are the odds the government's funding this?"
My question did not have an answer, but it did have everyone concerned that I may be onto something.
I had wondered, not for the first time since the word Cadmus appeared, how deeply this conspiracy went. And whether or not someone like Waller, Eiling, or others were connected. If it were, it bolstered terrible news for everyone involved.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 6:57 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Troia settled onto the park bench. Early morning joggers passed a memorial to one of Man's World's conflicts and paid little attention to the girl, dressed in civilian clothes despite a few taped bandages mostly hidden beneath her clothing. Next to her, dressed as though she was about to take a day at the office, was her elder sister, sporting a tight bun and a pair of stylish sunglasses across her nose.
"What questions do you have?"
Troia considered launching into the dozens that filtered through her mind all at once, but she settled onto one to begin. "Why had you not done something about this before now? Our cultural customs mocked, with scientists embarking on the role of our gods in their names, in their stories."
The woman in the guise of Diana Prince drank from a thermos, before offering some of the coffee to the younger girl, who gladly took a sip.
"Man's World remembers the old ways, sometimes fondly and sometimes with dissent," Diana began carefully. "The cultural and religious syncretism is a heavy load to unravel, sister, and the modern day world is a mixture of many influences from other cultures. Does the organization that delivers packages bought online - and borrows our name - offend us merely for using it as an influence?"
"Why shouldn't it?" she asked. "You truly think the Queen would approve?"
Diana paused for a long moment and then chuckled. "No, I don't believe she would. Man's World both respects, reveres, and acknowledges our role in history. The number of references to the old ways increases and decreases each year. How, Troia, would you expect me to isolate which of these organizations does so to offend or does so innocently?"
"I don't know," the girl admitted, "but surely this one would have been one to suspect. Cadmus made new life, Diana. Why didn't you stop them? They're right under your nose, in the city you patrol."
The woman smiled slightly, gently. "That's the age old question, is it not? It has merit, sister, but it is a variation of one I have heard launched at myself and at my peers every day since I began using my abilities to intervene in Man's World.
"Why did you not save my brother from a car accident? Why did you let that train derail? Why is Cheetah still at large? Why didn't you impose a ceasefire in the Middle East?"
Troia studied a group of joggers who halted long enough to pull frisbees from their bag. She... smiled, slightly, at the miniature discus made of plastic that soared nearby and landed expertly in the target's hands.
"How do you deal with it?"
"When you figure it out, let me know."
Troia chuckled.
"More seriously, sister, this is the second instance of your following in my footsteps. This time, on purpose."
She met Diana's eyes uneasily. "Yes. I'm- I'm sorry, but I just-"
"You have no need to apologize. I made similar decisions in my youth - I was not much older than you when I joined the warfront in Man's World," the elder Amazon explained softly. "What you need to decide is if this is something you wish to pursue."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"You mean to let me choose?"
"Yes."
Troia hesitated.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 8:24 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
John Stewart studied the teenager in the annals of the Hall of Justice's medical bays. A more private place than the public-fronting areas, it was empty this time of day after the insanity of the previous night.
A pale pink undertone to the skin that almost was natural. Dark bags under his eyes and ridges around them that deepened in the right light. Long fingers. Broad features. Well-built when compared to others around the same age who were human. He rested with a hunch to his weight, which could be a natural state as easily as it could be the way he carried a burden that he did not do well to hide.
A ring scan would be rather obvious - one of the downsides to the Power Ring was its lack of subtlety. He could confirm the differences rather easily with that, but he'd ask for permission first. John was wary of the alien's intentions but he'd proven on more than one occasion to have earned the benefit of the doubt.
Perhaps even trust.
"How are you feeling?"
Cassian blinked. "That's not what I expected you to ask. I thought you'd get to business."
John smirked. "Business is coming. Just wanted to check in with you."
"I'm fine. Crazy night."
The man rose an eyebrow. "An understatement if I've ever heard one."
The alien had merely shrugged.
"Listen, I've been off world. Jordan has been busy," he began, "and we should have checked in on you sooner."
Cassian said nothing for a moment. Then, "There's always something going on with you Leaguers."
John sensed the tension and remembered reading something about a similar interaction in Central City, of Cassian questioning the League's methods. "I escorted a ship of Incursean refugees through Gordanian space."
"On a scale of bad to bad, how bad is that?"
"Very bad."
For a moment, Cassian continued to say nothing before he just sighed. "All right, you get a pass."
"I'm happy to hear that," John said slowly.
"What's the League going to do with Superboy?"
The question was one he'd expected, and John settled into his seat just a bit more. "In the short term? Kid Flash has agreed to house him until accommodations are made. In the long term, close monitoring for any uncertain behavioral traits."
"Accommodations?"
John nodded once, knowing that he was mere days away from using his Power Ring to fix-up the rocks and other debris from the decommissioned Mount Justice.
"There is an idea," the Lantern began, "to bring together the sidekicks onto a covert team for the League. To be-"
"Like the Plumbers."
John hesitated and then nodded. "More or less. The League acts in the open, and we send this team on secret missions. The missions double as real-world experience to eventually do what we do, in the open."
Cassian's face was contemplative. "I like the idea. And you want me to join them."
John had heard the conversation for and against bringing the alien kid on board. It had not been without disagreements, and Hal and John personally considered the matter differently.
"The League believes it best to bring you into the fold," John said carefully. "You've done good work in the past, but I don't like a loose cannon."
The alien blushed slightly. "Oh. Well, I don't-"
"There're quite a few folks who think you need a punishment for nearly starting a nuclear war on that submarine," John stated simply, trying to not reveal where he judged the situation had landed. "And some in the League have reservations about your methods. It's not often that an alien immigrates to a planet like Earth, much less one in a situation like yourself."
Cassian raised a hand defensively. "In my defense, I - should have handled that sub differently, sure. There's always room for improvement."
John hesitated and then sighed, exasperated.
"As for why I'm here?" the boy leaned in. "You all are rather inspirational, from the stories I've heard. Following in your footsteps felt like a good use of the Gift."
"The Gift?"
Cassian touched the tabletop with his finger, his hand becoming like granite. "Your ring database doesn't know anything about Osmosians?"
John shook his head. "Space is vast, kid. Your planet is in Frontier Space, not regularly patrolled. Our records aren't perfect, and I'm no Honor Guard - I don't even have access to a percentage point of what they do."
That was the truth, John surmised. He'd heard reference to him as an Osmosian in the reports of Cassian's visit to Oa, but that report had been bare of many details and told the League next to nothing about the kid's ultimate intentions. As for the term itself, John had never heard of an Osmosian before that day, but there were plenty of sentient alien species in the universe he'd never encounter himself, ring database or no.
"Well, then let me tell you about us," Cassian offered.
John nodded, but held up a finger. "Before we get into story time, would you consent to a scan from my ring? It's standard operating procedure when a new form of life is encountered, to add to the records on Oa."
"What... kind of scans?"
"Mostly of a medical kind," he explained simply. "There are diagnostics that check for things about you that might be common with other species. Tests your capabilities."
Cassian hesitated for a long moment and then nodded. "How long does it take?"
"Initial testing is a few moments," John answered. "More detailed scanning should be done in a dedicated location with more equipment, like one of the-"
"Sector Houses?"
John smiled. "Yes. Of course."
At Cassian's consent, the Power Ring released a jet of soft green light that traced itself around the alien's body. Tests were performed at a fast pace, revealing information about the alien's overall body and health to be added to the records. Oa's databases were an important part of what made the Green Lantern Corps able to function. If these initial scans helped to aid the Corps in their endeavors when interacting with Cassian's species in the future, then John was glad to have begun the process.
"Anything revealed?"
John smiled as the light faded. "I'm sure there will be plenty to sift through, but that takes time and more dedicated equipment. Now - what can you tell me?"
Cassian settled further into his chair and began to speak.
Eh he hasn't absorbed that much alien dna, he should still count as osmosian enough
Besides the threshold for the absorption affecting the osmosian parts that deeply is probably higher? I wouldn't know but probably in the dozens (or 50 ish exactly?) if ultimate Kevin is anything to go by, since he seemed to have stopped even considering using anything other than energy and DNA absorption by that point, though wether he couldn't or just wouldn't is another story