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

[Mr Zoat]

20th October 2017
16:29 GMT

I set Zita down next to one of the settees and then walk over to the window while she gets herself under control. I've noticed her do this before, after emotional 'releases', and I know that she prefers to be left on her own to regain her equilibrium. Since that's not practical here the most I can really do is avoid looking in the reflection in the glass while she does breathing exercises and wipes her face dry with a handkerchief. Leaving her to do that feels wrong, but everything I've read and all the parenting advice I've gotten -admittedly from supervillains- is that letting them get it out of their system without rewarding it with attention is the right thing to do.

Unless they do it in a public location, then you're supposed to strangle them.

I hear the 'puff' of air as she gets up onto the settee, which is probably the sign that she's ready to start. I turn around and… Hm. Walk over to the floor in front of her and sit there, so that our heads are roughly level.

She makes eye contact and gives me a small nod.

I'm not exactly sure where to start.

"How much do you remember?"

She thinks for a moment.

"About as much as if I was remembering something I lived through that many years ago."

"Oh, um. In that.. case, what do you want me to call you?"

She blinks in confusion.

"My name is Zita Zatara."

"Ah, yes, that's what we called you, but if you've… Lived a normal life being called something else, then-."

"My name is Zita Zatara. I remember being someone called Suzuki Kenta and I remember being someone called Tanya von Degurechaff-"

She remembers two lives?

"-but neither of them are who I am now. In my second life I thought that I was Suzuki Kenta pretending to be Tanya von Degurechaff, as if I was controlling her with the.. control pad of a games console. As if Tanya von Degurechaff was someone else. I believe that it is called 'disassociation'. It took me many years to accept that who I had become was not the same as who I was, and I do not wish to repeat my early mistakes in this life. Zita Zatara grew up in a loving home with regular meals, and that is quite different to how Tanya von Degurechaff grew up."

I nod. I'm not sure that nodding is helpful, but what else could I do?

"My genetics are different now, and because my upbringing is different the structures of my brain would be different even if my genes were identical. Isn't that right, Dad?"

I nod again. "Yes, I think that's right. The.. only issue would be how neural pruning will work given that you're exercising different portions of your brain to normal five year olds."

"Will that be a problem?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say that it will result in you being mentally more similar to your past selves. But I don't really know." I reach out with both hands and take hold of both of hers. "But that doesn't matter to me or your mum. You're our daughter this time and we love you."

"Yes, I realise that." She turns her hands and grips my index fingers. "I think that in my first life there was something wrong with my brain. I couldn't understand certain types of human relationships. In my second life, I could understand them but I was so used to behaving as if I couldn't that I didn't stop to reconsider my own behaviour. I just kept going with an approach that I knew wouldn't work while I criticised the people around me for doing the same thing. This time I want to be different."

I nod. "From the sounds of things I hope so too."

"Still… I am concerned that I appear to be part of an international crime family, and associated with American super criminals."

"Yes, I would be too."

She regards me for a moment.

"I take it that you are not an undercover police officer."

"No. None of us are." If only that had been an option.

She nods. "I suspected, but I thought that I should ask."

"I've moved the Syndicate out of America and into an area of the world which was lawless anyway. The sort of people who make up the Syndicate actually do less harm here than the people who used to run it. I hope to get them invested in the wellbeing of the local people -or at least to feel proprietary about them- and transition to a lawful oligarchy with the next generation."

"I have wanted many things, Father, and that sounds like something that a person can want that is unlikely to happen."

"Yes." I sigh. "I know. I've thought about all of the decisions I made, and as far as I can tell the only realistic alternative was moving the Syndicate off-world and turning it into an interstellar mercenary company, but the attitude shift required would have been too great."

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you had normalised their outlook because you spent all of your time with them?"

"Sort of. I defined myself as being the man who made them all less harmful. It's quite possible-. No, I did have opportunities to jump ship, but that would just have gotten me out. It wouldn't have helped anyone in the Syndicate or anyone who has to go on living in a world with the Syndicate in it. To say nothing of the police state President Wilson was turning America into."

President Luthor is in his second term now. Not sure who will succeed him, but while we've had the occasional clash both his people and the Syndicate are mostly avoiding direct confrontation. None of the likely candidates are making a big deal about us, so I doubt that we'll have any new problems from that direction. I am planning on sending him a bottle of wine after he leaves office, though.

"Yes." She nods. "Despite the example set by Washington, few American presidents have been willing to give up new powers they have accrued. Luthor surprised me in that regard."

"Almost all of Wilson's new powers technically had sunset clauses. I imagine that he intended to extend them indefinitely once everyone was used to them, but Luthor just stopped using them and let them expire." I smile as she appears to remember that she's holding onto my hands and immediately lets them go. "Can I interest you in a bring-your-daughter-to-work day?"

"Once, I dreamed of a peaceful retirement. I tried to retire peacefully twice, and both times I died long before I could achieve it. I do not think that becoming manager of a firm of supervillains would give me a better chance." She frowns, looking down at her hands. "Particularly given that I do not appear to have any magical ability in this life."

I shake my head. "Anyone can use magic. According to Zatara family tradition, your magic education would start in about three years."

"It may be true in this world that anyone can use magic, but family tradition aside I doubt it would be a profitable avenue to pursue unless I had some natural talent. I have tried using the basic formulae of my last life-."

I move my hands, enveloping hers. "Zita, it's very important to me that you stop doing that unless you've got someone around to spot you. Zataras have died before by doing something they didn't mean to."

She looks at me for a moment, then nods. "If magic here works differently to how it did in my previous life, that is a reasonable request. How does it work?"

"Ah, well, broadly, magic works through the manipulation of conceptual links. I don't use it myself, but if you want to hear about magic theory I can get John Constantine to lecture you. I can't think of anyone more knowledgeable on our side." She gives me a small nod. "But for the Zataras in particular, quite a few can just make things happen by talking backwards."

She blinks, then closes her eyes for several seconds before opening them. The animation fades from her face and she just looks sad.

"That's really all there is to it?"

"There are limitations. Some Zataras can only change certain classes of thing, and they have a finite amount of power to draw on."

"What language?"

"I've heard Zataras use English, Italian and Latin."

"By syllable or by letter?"

"By letter."

"Hn." Faintly, she starts to smile. "Heh ha hah. Ah hahah hah!"

Unable to contain herself, she collapses onto the settee, arms wrapped around her chest.

"That's so-! Irrational!"

I shake my head. "No one ever claimed that the universe was obliged to be rational. Do you want to talk to your mother about it?"

"Once I've calmed-. HAH! Calmed down. Heh-hah!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 17
23rd March 2013
23:44 GMT -5

Sunset grunts faintly as she finishes laying out the cable which forms the runic circle she's using for this operation, and I… Find myself growing a little maudlin. With her work in the school and with Circe I don't see her anything like as much as I used to. She doesn't even live in the mountain most of the time, though of course I've left her room and workshop in place-.

"What?"

"Sunset, you know that I'm proud of what you've achieved since you arrived on Earth-"

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. "What?"

"-both in terms of your magic and the way you've forged a new life for yourself." I smile, and open my arms in an invitation for a hug.

"S-. Seriously? Now?" I broaden my smile and crouch down a little. Not that much. She's not much shorter than me, though she's far less massive.

She keeps staring at me, then accepts that I'm serious and walks up to me, rolling her eyes. I hug her, my greater mass basically enveloping her. She sort of hugs back.

"What's this about?"

"I just realised how little I see you, and how much I miss seeing you."

"You know where the school is."

"Yes, I know I can visit, but it's not really the same." I release her, much to her relief. "And I really appreciate you helping me with this."

"Doing this, you mean. And you haven't even told me what we're doing."

"I'm afraid that I am under a magically binding contract which prevents me from explaining exactly what I'm doing-."

"Because you were looking for a way to help the souls of your children's brothers and sisters. And then you disappeared for two weeks."

"I suppose that a rational person might reach the conclusion that those two facts were related. I couldn't possibly comment."

"And we're spying on Newstime because you don't like their editorials?"

"I hold Newstime in contempt because they fail to offer a useful service. Their analysis is surface level, their evidence-finding is lazy, they accept citizen journalism uncritically for anything other than moment-by-moment coverage and I've yet to see a single issue without a glaring grammatical error that took me right out."

"And we're in a tunnel under their parking garage because you want me to magic them better editors."

"No, we're here because I want to find out if anything magic is happening in that building using purely passive monitoring and without being detected by any protective magics at work on the building and you're one hundred percent of the people I believe can do the job."

She frowns thoughtfully. "How good are the defences?"

"No idea."

"Okay, how good are the people who made the defences?"

Hm. Now, I knew who and what Colin Thornton was before I accepted the First's offer, but I can't share anything that I learned since. I'm able to call in Sunset because this is covered by my law enforcement responsibilities and is necessary to complete my infernal assignment, so…

"You may assume that the defender is highly skilled and patient, and is most at home with demon magic." Though since he's Jebediah's son… "And possibly order magic."

"Demons aren't supposed to be big on order." She looks thoughtfully at the magic cable. "Though I guess there could be exceptions."

"Remember Teth Adom's sponsor?"

"The Lord of Order who murdered him and bound his soul to an amulet that got stolen by a serial killer to get super powers? What about him?"

"Your opponent will be his son."

"His son… Who uses demon magic?" The corners of her mouth turn down. "Wait. You were looking for a succubus, who was the mother of demon-vampire hybrids, and we're looking for a demon whose father was a Lord of Order?"

Huh. "Yes?"

"Is this a… Thing?"

"How do you mean?"

"Look, I'm from Equestria. We have mules, and I know where they come from. But most ponies don't summon up umbrum and try breeding with them."

"What about kirin?"

"I.. don't think they do either?"

"No, I mean, kirin are dragon-pony hybrids, right? And adult dragons are quite a bit bigger than ponies." Hm. "Except Princess Celestia, but I doubt that the entire species-."

"No-." Sunset gags, cringing and holding her stomach as if she's worried that she's going to be sick. "Uh."

"Actually, that's a point. I know that regular mares have finite eggs in their ovaries, but do alicorns have the same limitation or do they magically replenish?"

"Why? Why?"

"Luna's in her forties. If she were a human woman the chances of her conceiving naturally would be pretty low, even allowing that she was otherwise in excellent health. And then there's you. Career women in western society have developed a habit of leaving child-bearing until their late thirties or early forties and unsurprisingly struggle to conceive. I want to make sure that you've thought about things and haven't just assumed that since you're ageless you can just leave it as late as you like."

"Hah!" She grins triumphantly, and points at my face with her right forefinger. "That isn't a problem. I gave myself the same fertility control that Lynne and Barda Free have. I can save all my eggs for as long as I want."

"Agree to teach Luna that and I'll stop talking about it."

"Done! So, this guy."

"Colin Thornton, aka Satanus."

"Isn't Satanus a big deal in human religion?"

"No, he's just named after him. But I want to make sure that his terrible magazine isn't using magic to get people to buy it, and if it turns out that he's up to anything else in there, well, if we find it while doing something legitimate then it's still admissible."

"Can you narrow it down?"

"Ah… No. Sorry."

"Fine. At least you're honest about it." She walks over to the centre of her rune array and wiggles her fingers. "Do you want to know how this works, or will that make a problem for whatever rules you're complying with?"

"Oh, go ahead and tell me. I know you want to."

"I'm the Alicorn of Magic. As long as I don't interfere with the spells directly, I can push and pull the energy flows so that they move around my detections spells. It's harder to tell what they're doing like that, but it's still possible and it's basically impossible to detect someone doing it. And since the structure of his spells are effectively coming outside of their own effect area, I should be able to follow around the whole structure without the spells reacting at all." She smiles smugly. "It's a little like how the planet Earth moves around the sun without anyone falling off the planet."

I nod. "Good show. Let me know what you find."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 18
24th March 2013
00:13 GMT -5

"H-uh…"

Sunset's description of the way this magic works was pretty accurate. If I.. squint, I can sort of see the bending streams of magic energy twisting around her but never quite touching her. There are a… Disconcerting number of screaming faces in the magic energy.

"H-uh?"

She frowns curiously. "It's… Weird."

"It's made by a demon who minored in order magic. I'd be surprised if there was anyone else in the world other than his sister who could use it if they wanted to."

"No, I mean… Some parts are more sophisticated than the others. A lot more. I'd guess they were made by different people if the trace wasn't exactly the same."

"Is the spell sophisticated enough to make more of itself? If it's made automatically..?"

"I'm not seeing anything like that. I suppose it might have had that and then turned it off."

"Or the caster might have gained an education and built upon what they had already made?"

"No, it's too… Bound together for that to have happened." She grunts frustratedly. "The only thing I can think of it that he deliberately didn't bother making the other parts as complicated."

"Do they need to be?"

"Against most people? No. They'd be bare bones in Equestria or Atlantis, but I guess they don't really need to be better in America."

I nod. "And making them too good might draw attention by itself. A magician looking over a city and seeing a weak and simple defensive spell will assume that they're looking at the work of a competent amateur."

"And they wouldn't care about that. But… Oh. So the really good stuff has to avoid being detected, but he probably isn't good enough to disguise the fact that there's something happening, so he makes sure that something is showing-."

She frowns thoughtfully.

"Plausible?"

"Maybe? There's nothing here that tells me what he was thinking when he put these together."

"Okay, so what do the two parts do?"

"The simple part has a sort of… Diffuse presence… Charm? It's basically just creating a weak magic mist throughout the building. In Equestria, some places use that like a burglar alarm, and an actual wizard can use it to do remote casting."

I nod. "Because their magic is already there, and the structure of the building supports it."

"Right. And there's a bunch of other stuff you can do with it, like making it so your books spontaneously combust if they leave that area. This is all bare minimum, I-am-actually-a-wizard-and-not-just-copying-things-out-of-a-book stuff."

"Demonic? Orderly?"

"It's too simple to really have a domain. But the other stuff is… Really fascinating. So, normally, when you create a spell you tie it to a place or an object. But-."

"But this is tied to the general space defined by the simple spell. I'm not a complete neophyte, Sunset."

"No, smartass. It's not. It's just that that area is the only thing it can affect. As far as… All of the sophisticated spells go, that's their entire universe. There is nothing else. It's so much a part of them that I don't think I could make them do something else without taking them completely apart."

"And that part has a domain?"

"Oh yeah." She shudders, and nods at the stream of the damned. "Screaming souls in torment, all the way. I'm… Not completely sure, but I think that part extends into Hell as well."

"The damned souls do rather suggest that."

Though… Are souls in purgatory really damned in the technical sense? From the way Sergeant Wu described going into the next circle in as a one-way journey-. Ah, but she didn't say whether that was because she'd have never been allowed out by the far stronger demons or because it wasn't possible to get out once she'd made that choice.

Okay, so let's… Assume that Satanus is getting souls from another circle of Hell and using those. He doesn't have any personal presence in other parts of Hell -everyone I asked seemed insulted at the idea- so he isn't gathering them himself. That leaves trade and pacts with the living. Satanus doesn't have the infrastructure in Hell to support cults -that requires a whole host of minor demons to dole out minor boons, otherwise you cheapen the appeal of the major demon- so while he might have a cult leader somewhere under a major pact who has a high cultist neophyte turnover…

Insert joke about American healthcare here.

It's far more likely that he's trading something to someone who does. Or has access to one of the other circles. But the nobility hate him, and while I doubt someone like Mammon would flat out refuse to trade with him, they would charge him well over the odds. And Mammon has more than enough worshippers to properly price up the goods and services for the mortal plane, so he couldn't take advantage of being the sole supplier.

"Grayven?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry, trying to work out what he's doing with his spells. Carry on?"

"I don't think it goes to Hell. I've done some work on detecting demon summoning rituals for the D.E.A., and it doesn't feel like they do."

"Purgatory?"

Sunset shrugs. "I don't know how different that feels."

"Mother Box, hush tube."

"Ping."

A small portal opens next to me. "Try that."

Sunset wiggles her right fore and middle fingers at it, then waves her forefinger to close it.

"Yes, that's it exactly."

So… They are coming from Purgatory? Or that system isn't the bit that draws the damned soul into it. Or is he channelling damned souls out of other parts of Hell and into his own more homely domain. Oh, I don't know.

"What is the spell actually doing?"

"Lots of things. And it's not one spell, it's a whole system. There are spells for monitoring people, spells for taking small amounts of power from everyone-."

"What would the effect be on people inside the building?"

"Ah… They'd be a bit less magically powerful, so… They'd feel a bit more tired, recover a bit more slowly from injuries and be worse at magic. Legally, it's like committing hundreds of cases of assault every day."

I smile. Good. And this is expert testimony. Simple Assault in New York has a maximum sentence of one year in prison, so if the prosecution could prove a remorseless pattern of behaviour then Satanus could be imprisoned indefinitely. But with regard to my work in Hell, that's just leverage.

Until the month is up.

"Can you tell where it's going?"

"I can tell where in the building, but I don't know what it's being used for."

"So if we want to know, then we need someone in the building."

"There's no way anything could get in that building without being detected."

"Sure, but being detected isn't necessarily going to provoke a response. And I know some creatures who are good at being overlooked."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st October 2010
19:45 GMT -5

Artemis is looking around…

Suspiciously. She doesn't trust you.

Well, yes, if she was an idiot I wouldn't be interested in her to this degree.

"Planet Krypton? A superhero-themed restaurant?"

No, she doesn't need me to confirm the evidence of her eyes. She's asking me to explain my reasoning.

"You eat at fast food restaurants enough that it wouldn't be special, but a high-class restaurant would just make you feel out of place. This is good enough to be memorable without being overwhelming."

She looks critically at a woman wearing a Black Canary costume which Black Canary hasn't worn in years. It's not even a good copy.

"You know it's… Kinda creepy when you say stuff like that, right?"

I sigh. "I… Would you prefer it if I lied?"

"A normal person would say 'I like the food'."

"I've never eaten here before."

She flaps her right arm. "Then why aren't we somewhere you have been before?"

"Because..? I like the food?"

Good try, sport.

"Are you sure you're not a robot?"

"Yes. I check daily."

She splutters with laughter. "You know, with you I can actually believe that."

"The reviews are reasonable and… That wasn't the main consideration, like I said. How's your mother doing?"

"It… I mean, she can't walk yet. Doctor says she should be able to stand unaided in a few days, and once she starts exercising she should start walking in a week or two."

A waiter in a Flash costume with fake abdominal muscles walks over. "Do you have a reservation?"

I nod. "I put it under 'Earthworm Jim."

He checks his phone. "Ah… Yeah, you're on table seven in Wonder Woman's zone." He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I don't react, but Artemis raises her eyebrows. "Pretty brave, wearing that costume."

"Metropolis doesn't have a 'Hooters'. Please follow me."

He leads the way across the restaurant, and I take the time to review the food and the hygiene status of the kitchen. I mean, the inspection results were good but the day I trust anyone's cleaning except my own-.

Is the day I can retire, because you'll be cured.

That nearly makes me stop and stare at the ring.

I am not a disease.

Not what I meant, sport.

The kitchen is pretty good, but the food… More effort spent on presentation than on ingredients, and their suppliers have done that American thing of shoving toxic crap into everything. About what I expected honestly, but I'm going to see if I can take her to somewhere in a civilised country next time.

Ah, optimism.

What, having high food safety standards? If both Britain and France agree on something then it's probably a good idea.

Just try your best.

Flash-waiter leaves us after nodding to Wonder Woman-waitress, who's about a foot shorter and appreciably flabbier than actual Wonder Woman, even wearing those heels. She hands us our menus.

"Anything to drink?"

Can Americans mess up milk? Yes, of course they can. Just-. Just order something and then change it.

Artemis is frowning at me. "Ah… Cola."

I fix my face in a polite smile. "Banana milkshake, please."

She nods and turns away. "I'll be back in a few."

Artemis waits until she gets half-way to the kitchens and then leans towards me. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You nearly went crazy over the drinks menu."

"The perils of actually knowing what goes into the food you eat and drink. I mean, cola should just be sugar, water and kola nut, but there's a whole list of things that get added and most of them aren't really designed for the human body."

"Ah… You didn't say anything when I drank cola in the base?"

"Red label or blue label?"

"What's the difference?"

"The blue label is the stuff I bought in a country with better food standards, the red label is what I made myself."

"Oh. Ah, red. Tasted pretty good. Didn't realise you were such a food-. Guy."

I shake my head. "If you'd seen the things I'd seen, you'd understand."

"It's not bad, I just-. You usually hang out in your lab, and then when we went to India to fight those snake men you told Mia to stop breaking arms because breaking their necks was more efficient."

"Yes?"

"I mean it's-. A different side of you. And…" She takes a deep breath. "How..? Serious are you?"

"Completely, about everything."

"I mean, dating me. You come across… Really… Inhuman. And creepy."

"I.. know. I'm working on it."

"'cause… When you said 'date'-."

"You thought that I was holding your mother to ransom for sexual favours." She blanches, then gives a small nod. "I wasn't. I do want to have sex with you; you are an extremely attractive young woman. But blackmailing you into it would be such a short term.. thing, I just… Don't see the point. It doesn't get me what I want."

"Which is..?"

"A long term relationship, shared interests and time together, marriage, two point four children-. Probably rounded up to three. Gradually rising to the apex of our open and secret professional lives before transcending mortality entirely and-."

Something about her facial expression makes me stop.

"'Inhuman'?"

"Started good. Not a lot of guys our age bring up marriage on the second date. Guess you… Are serious, huh?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so-. Explain the ring-thing to me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st October 2010
19:51 GMT -5

I trace my right forefinger up my glass, transmuting all of the anti-human ingredients within into something more ingestible.

Artemis hasn't touched her cola yet. "Do I need to worry?"

"Are you asking me to scan you in detail?"

"No, I-. Meant with the drink."

"Assuming that you've been drinking things like that for years, no, but I suggest giving me access to your body so that I can remove any build-up of dangerous materials."

"Giving-? Do you have a thing where you need to phrase stuff in the creepiest way possible?"

"I.. could have done it without asking. I mean, I was tempted. Do you know much lead and.. mercury there was in my body when I started this? And I never lived in a place like Sprang Boulevard. If anything ever happens to the roof? Get out immediately."

"They got lead paint up there?"

"No. Asbestos sheeting. One of my uncles had asbestosis, died years earlier than he should have and struggled with physical activity for years before that because of the damage to his lungs." Hm. "Though there is lead paint throughout the building, there's just not more of it up there."

"And let me guess: you'll clear it up for another date?"

"Yes. Your determination -and its manifestation in your physique- is the thing I find most attractive about you, but you can't determine through lead poisoning. Though…"

"Yeah?"

"I was sort of hoping that after two dates you'd be prepared to at least give me a short term commitment without the need for making it a transaction."

"You wanted-! Ohkay. Your ring needs avarice to work. You.. want me, but you can't just make asbestos or lead paint disappear until there's something in it for you."

I nod. "That certainly appears to be how it works. There isn't really anyone I can consult."

"What about-?" She checks around as no one listens to us. "Mister Sur?"

"Mister Sur doesn't know anything about orange rings. Green rings don't have that problem. He can't enter Vega without putting his ring aside and the Guardians would want to know why he did that when it's not in his Sector."

"And if I agreed to… Keep dating you, would that make a difference?"

"If you agree to become mine? Yes."

"You really do have a thing. Are you gunna ask me to put on a collar next?"

I frown. "Corinthians seven, verse four. 'The wife's body does not belong to her alone but also to her husband. In the same way, the husband's body does not belong to him alone but also to his wife.' Saint Saul could be surprisingly romantic." … "And I have no strong feelings about collars."

She takes a moment to consider that. "What..? Else, do you do that's… Different?"

"You know how I keep bringing up things that I… Find disconcerting?"

"One way of putting it."

"And you've seen my research into augmentative techniques. It goes a little further than that. I've stopped myself decaying."

"You made yourself invulnerable?"

I shake my head. "I don't think anything is truly invulnerable. Even Superman can be hurt by sufficient force. No, I mean that for as long as I wear the ring I don't age and -if I do get injured- I heal immediately."

"So one day I'll be an old woman and you'll look like this." I look at her, puzzled as to why-. "Oh. So.. I'd-. Not get old."

I look at her in puzzlement. "Do you want to?"

"No, I just… It's a bit-. Much, you know?"

"No, you're worth it."

"So-. Okay, this is-. Why..? Why me, not… Mia? Or M'gann?"

"Mia doesn't want to be involved in superheroing. We still don't really know why Brainiac augmented her and she told me directly that she'd rather give it up and forget about it. You are the child of two supervillains and you chose this. You didn't have to. You could just have had a-. Okay, not a normal life, but something close to normal. Instead, you went out and started fighting crime with a bow. Mia's not a bad person, but you're better. And M'gann's still pretending she looks like a green human."

"She doesn't?"

I frown. "Of course not. She actually copied her original 'human' appearance from a pornographic film loosely inspired by Martian Manhunter's older cases."

"Really? 'cause…" She glances at our waitress as she deals with another table's pudding order. The waitress undulates slightly as she turns away, something that Diana's armour doesn't actually allow.

"'Innocent barely legal schoolgirl' requires a different body type."

"Ew." She frowns. "Based on Martian Manhunter's cases?"

"Very, very loosely. She kept the shape but expanded her costume to actually cover her body. But she's not determined, she's just optimistic. It's not that she knows what can go wrong but decides to do it anyway, she just decides that nothing can go wrong. Watch out for that, actually. She means well, but her judgement isn't the best. Anyway, that's why. How about you?"

"I'm here for my Mom."

"If that was it then you wouldn't bother asking questions."

"I agreed to a date, so… Date. It's a date conversation."

"You're still considering it." I raise my eyebrows. "Am I wrong?"

"How many guys do you think ask me out?"

Hm. Well, the rejection rate is usually pretty high at that age, she's probably even more prickly with random people than with actual superheroes and she doesn't behave in a feminine manner most of the time…

"Five this year? At least two of which were crude half-efforts?"

"Three. And all of them were crude. One guy got handsy last year and I dislocated his shoulder and now I'm 'the psycho'."

"Fortunately, I have more self confidence than a bunch of Gotham protothugs."

"Yeah, insecure, that's-." She grunts and shakes her head. "So… I guess I just wanted to go on a date with someone. And you're kind of a psycho too but you're not… Not a bad guy."

"I'm willing to work on the psycho thing. I… See things differently to other people, but-. Hey, I haven't shot Streaky since you told me not to."

"Yeah, that-. Puts you ahead. But if you're immortal and you've got a power ring, why do you want to be more powerful?"

"So I can do more. People like the Flash can do more because they're more powerful than other people. He can check his whole city for crime in a couple of minutes and him stopping an armed robbery is easy. It's not because he's more skilled than, say, you. Take away his superspeed and you'd have a good chance of beating him in a fight. Same with Superman, but more so. They'd both still be good men without their powers, but most of their achievements come from having them."

"Huh. And what about Batman?"

"He could do more with powers. Being Batman costs a colossal amount of money in equipment and a lot of time in training and preparation. It's not that he's ineffectual, it's that by reconsidering some parts of his methodology he could be more effective."

"You use any of that on yourself?"

"Yes. That's why I'm as strong as I am. I don't-. It had side-effects that I'm working through, so I wouldn't recommend that you-."

"No."

"Right. But I do have weaker side-effect-free augmentics, if you're interested."

"I'll… Think about it." … "All of it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 20
26th March 2013
15:17 GMT

It's interesting, now that I reflect upon it.

My Apokoliptian education was fairly good, though I suspect that's because Father played almost no role in it besides issuing an order that I be 'educated appropriately'. Grayven-. The other fellow, could actually speak several languages, ride natural animals and machine animals, pilot a variety of craft and fight with a variety of weapons. He also knew the courtly manners of Apokolips, New Genesis, and a dozen other worlds besides, because if you're going to insult someone then it should be intentional.

I know how to use New God technology because for an elite New God it's pretty instinctual. But he-. I, was never taught the underlying basis by which it operates. Most of what I know I learned on Earth by trying to use it and the rest the other fellow learned while rebuilding the Absolute Dominion.

Was that deliberate? I'd be surprised to learn that Father cared either way… But maybe he does? Or did? Maybe there's some obvious trick that no one notices because that knowledge is subtly restricted.

"Hey, you taking business?!"

Fortunately, Sunset's affinity for all things arcane applies to New God technology. So while 'I'm' in the stacks of Praetori thanks to a clever soul projection link… Thing she set up and handed to Jean, I'm entirely shrouded here in Odium under the bound soul of my children's mother, wearing her face and form.

I smile at the owlbearshrew demon who's leering at me.

"I am. Do you prefer the whip? The cat o'nine tails?" I gasp excitedly. "Am I finally going to get to use my flensing knife? It will test my skill, but I know I can get off all the skin without breaching a major vein or artery."

There's a small risk there. Some demons like pain so much that that's their idea of a good time. But the bestial-looking ones are usually… Well, they have the interests of beasts. Inflicting violence, dominating, vigorously fucking and pissing up walls, both literally and metaphorically. Which means that this guy is trying to work out exactly how strong I'm likely to be, and if it's worth trying to subjugate me.

Ayelle's spirit is strong, and reeks of violence and shed blood. The demon and his posse are a degree or two weaker. All of them together would be an even fight, but that would require more group loyalty than demons are inclined to show. Certainly over the issue of one of their number acquiring an agony-focused succubus as a toy.

"Oh. One of those. I-."

"Turning me down after arousing my interests?" I draw her long daggers from my belt. "Perhaps the choice is no longer-"

He turns and runs, dropping to all fours after the first dozen strides as his base nature asserts itself.

"-yours." I look around at the surrounding allies and alleys. "How about the rest of you?"

The rest don't run, but they advance to the rear with alacrity. Good job too, as while I can draw on her knowledge to use these things without stabbing myself I'm finding moving in this form a little awkward. Not pony-awkward, but that was so different that I never found myself assuming that I knew what I was doing.

Long daggers back in their sheaths, I look around. The Odium has large areas of barrack-like housing and workshops, though the vagaries of local low-level warfare and 'asset realisation' mean that this part isn't densely inhabited at the moment.

So why have some of my slime spies ended up here?

And as a secondary concern, is 'Ayelle' being here going to create problems for me?

Satanus making deals with someone in the Odium makes perfect sense. The Head Renderer might not even know about it as it's more a first amongst equals sort of thing and not every trade goes up for separate approval. What doesn't make sense is for it to come out here.

In fact… Inevitable Conflict

The little charmed compass Sunset made for me spins and points. I queried why she didn't make it look like the compass from Pirates of the Caribbean, and she said that she wanted it to be able to move in three dimensions which Jack Sparrow's compass couldn't. I think it's because she has no romance in her soul.

Hm. Warehouse wall, warehouse wall. Ayelle wouldn't be strong enough to just punch through, so… So I follow along the outer wall-. Until I reach the outlet pipes still leaking industrial runoff from inside, flowing across the ground and merging into a stream which flows down to the river of… Stuff that leaves the city. Jump over that, and… That's the warehouse door, but it's clearly locked and barred and I can see the glowing runes indicating 'extreme punishment' and 'dangerous technology'. Being demons it's not clear whether there's dangerous technology in the sense of highly effective weapons or nuclear waste, or whether the punishment is inflicted by magic or by the Renderers coming after you for breaking into their storage sheds.

Honestly, I'm a little surprised that something like that doesn't have more overt security as well. Demons aren't known for deferred gratification. Keep walking around…

No other entrance.

Hm.

Of course, it's simple enough to set up a portal, or have someone who can teleport move things. Still, that's usually too energy intensive to be worth bothering with for demons. The sorts of demons who can do things like that aren't inclined to take regular day jobs, and the rituals require resources that you don't need to spend if you use a road like a normal person. And of course someone owns the roads and they'll make trouble if they're not getting their cut…

Compass says the slimes are under the warehouse.

I don Ayelle's clawed gauntlets and make my way back to the outflows. Alright, the demon who built this place wasn't stupid. Those are far too small for me to climb through, even reduced to her size. And I don't really want to risk a power ring transition in Hell, because that sounds very stupid.

So I stand on the sludgy ground and generate a fake teleportation circle while sending a rope of orange light through the sludge and into the pipe. Given the low grade magic aura of filth the stuff is putting out, whatever security magic they've got on the entrance is going to have to be more specialised than 'is there some magic here', so I doubt that anything will react to a construct.

The construct bumps into some sort of small crab demon, pinned to the pipe by its own claws and feeding on the effluence. The brief look I get seems to suggest that it doesn't have sensory organs and is entirely specialised to living where it is. Move around that. The pipe goes down into the warehouse, in such a direction that I wonder how much actual space there is inside-.

No, unless I very much miss my guess a good portion of the centre of the warehouse is vats and pumping engines, with none of the organic touches the Renderers like to incorporate. Okay, out of the vat and... Yes, it is filled with machinery, but there's enough space for someone Ayelle's size to move between them and that's all that I need.

Mother Box?

Ping.

The hush tube appears beneath me and I fall into it, the 'teleportation circle' vanishing after I pass through. Take a moment to reorientate myself after down switches by 90o​, then start looking around.

Not sure what the effluent actually is. I'm scanning all sorts of residues, but ring scans aren't reliable with magic substances and I don't want to do a wide area scan in case something detects it. I take a chemical analyser out of subspace and poke it into-.

Well, I can always fabricate a new chemical analyser.

I check the ground, but in this sealed environment there isn't really any dust. A thin chemical crud from spillages, but it doesn't have any prints in it that I can decipher. But there does appear to be a path, and you don't make a path unless it's for someone to walk along.

The compass says that way, so that way I go.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 20
26th March 2013
15:24 GMT

The first door has security spells on the door itself and upon the frame… But none on the wall a little way away. So I just poke a hole through and then hush tube myself to the other side.

Ping.

Have Mother Box hush tube us to the other side. Happy?

Ping.

And take the stairs down. Again, it's hard to tell, but this doesn't look well travelled. But someone must have come here at least once, or else why would it be here? I might be able to kludge some sort of a priori spell-like ability together by combining my own god name and the First's authorisation letter, but… That would warn people, and I'd rather keep poking around at least until something pokes back.

A second security door, but this one is rent and bent and barely set into its frame. Stains of something that could be very old demon blood or ichor are spread around the area. People died, and their bodies were removed, but no one actually bothered to clean up thoroughly. Which implies that no one is using it. The Head Renderer's workshop was disturbing, but it was clean. None of the tools or components were out of place. If it's a mess, that implies that they aren't here.

But the slime is.

Now, it's not impossible that it's just some outgrowth of one of my spy slimes from before I dispatched them, in which case this is a waste of time. And it's not impossible that Satanus opened a portal here for a laugh when he spotted my effort, or opened one here for some other reason. Or there was some brief magic connection that resulted in a slime being transferred without any particular intent, as Blarg said could happen.

Still, it's productive work, and it's the First's time they're wasting.

Hush tube past the door after sighting through one of the rips, and… Ah, yes. An engineering workshop that got hit by… Lots of things with claws. And acid, it looks like. Some of it puts me in mind of machinery from Sunset's workshop, but the rest looks unfamiliar. Too damaged, or too different. Not like Sunset used demon magic.

Orderly, though. Allowing for the damage, the walkways are wide and clearly marked off by railings-. This wasn't owned by a Renderer. Too inorganic. Darn it, I like mechanisation. How late was I?

I walk along the more debris-free paths, taking everything in. Occasionally I feel the presence of an object with a little power still in it and send it to secure storage for later analysis by Sunset or Constantine, but there isn't… Much. From the way that some of the wreckage is organised it looks a little like someone went though it before I arrived, but there hasn't been a major salvage effort. Probably just taking trophies.

I'll keep an eye out in future visits. See if I can work out who did this. I'm not authorised to punish them for smacking down someone who was bucking the system, but I could draw the attention of the First to it and point out that something viable had been destroyed by people who were protecting their slice of the pie with no thought to what their actions did to future pie-availability.

Huh. The compass is pointing straight down here.

So… Ugh. Unless I get an actual magician to look at them, I won't know whether the spells on the external gate and the spells on the inner door were made by the same person. And whether they were in the same style as the residual magics on the mechanisms I'm storing. Was this place locked down from the outside, or was it a defensive measure that wasn't good enough?

Big drill, little drill, or look for a doorway?

No way I could keep a big drill secret. And I'd like the option of preserving the fact that there's still something here a secret if at all possible. I haven't noticed the sort of spells that could detect a small and subtle intrusion, and if there are any then they've already detected me. Looking for a doorway doesn't cost me anything but time -which I actively want to spend, but… It's starting to feel like an indulgence. I could justify a quick look around, but that would basically mean picking up everything with a construct and at that point I might as well use a big drill.

Opening a hush tube to an unfamiliar and unobserved environment is considered and dismissed.

Construct small drill it is, and get to work. While that's working I take a quick tour of the walls. Hm. From the damage pattern I think that's where they got in, probably using some sort of tunnelling creature. The hole has been filled in with rubble and machine detritus, and-.

Power ring scan says that it's not there.

Curious.

I put my hand down, and there's a brief sensation of pressure before my fingers are very visibly through the ruined machinery.

Very curious.

I leave the small drill running as I try reaching further down, encountering only a smooth tunnel. Mildly concerned I double check the rim of the tunnel entrance, but no, no spells that I can see.

So what happened? Someone tunnels in, attacks and wrecks the place, killing the workers. Since there's no giant tunnelling monster around and no second tunnel I assume that it left the way it came. I don't know where the other end of the tunnel is, but it's not in the general area of the warehouse.

I take a moment to try and see if the illusion-debris matches any of the debris on the floor around the hole, but… I don't see anything obvious. The machinery is in the same style, but I don't.. think it's literally the same stuff.

Construct camera, down you go.

Looks like the illusion is about half a metre thick, then it's clear sloped tunnel. Not completely: there's some rubble on the bottom, suggesting that it was filled and then cleared out later manually.

Why? Don't know. It's easier to go down and look than try to puzzle it out.

I abandon the drill and jump down the hole, landing on my feet on the sloping floor and sliding a little way, starting a small cascade of dust and pebbles before I slide to a stop. We should be well under street level here, though Hell's topography isn't necessarily as simple as that of Earth. I proceed onwards, noting that the tunneller appears to have only gone directly upwards at the end and that the rest is far shallower. It's already level where I am, and since it's fairly straight I can estimate the direction of the start of the attack. Be a bit obvious if I actually went looking, but I can check the territories map later.

Follow the tunnel, follow the tunnel… Ah. I can see the glowing runes in the distance, and they surround a wall of rubble. I don't want to risk touching it, but it looks real to me. Send out construct feelers… There. One of the walls is an illusion again. Camera again, and… A short drop which ends in a very heavy metal door covered in runes.

Compass is pointing in that direction.

I step through the illusion and float down, hovering just above the impressively fortified door. It clearly can open, but it.. doesn't really go anywhere for whoever is on that side. There's no way to get out. So was it intended as a safe room? Probably not if my assumption about the tunnel was correct. Built afterwards? Why? I mean, I doubt that anyone would bother looking here but that's because you can't really do anything from here.

I'm not an expert of demonic runes, but all this stuff looks like passive defences. Designed to slow down breachers rather than-.

Is that a hatch?

That… Suggests deliveries, but-.

Alright then.

I reach down and knock on the hatch before floating back a little.

A vibrant pink head appears a little way above the door, looking around. It smiles when it spots me.

"About fucking time! You any idea how long I've been waiting?"

I shrug. "I only got the commission a little while ago."

"Bloody typical, yeah. Surprised he remembered at all. But you're here now, that's the main thing. Did you bring the cheese grater?"

I smile cruelly. "I've got whatever you want, worm."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 20
26th March 2013
15:30 GMT

""Oh-hoh-hoh yeah!"

The pink face vanishes, and then a hatch opens with a slight hiss as the pressure equalises.

"Give me a second while I-." Several runes flicker or die completely. "Okay, security's off. Come on in!"

Hm. I walk closer to the hatch and see that it's a narrow tube with rungs set into the side. There's no way that I'd fit down there at full size-. And neither could Neron or the First, assuming that they can't reduce their size. Ayelle can fit fairly easily, as height isn't really an issue, though… Given her character…

Plot route…

I step over the tube and drop, rungs flashing past a centimetre from my face as my ring corrects my angle without reducing my speed.

Alert! Brace!

I fall to a crouch as the tunnel suddenly ends, mild pain flaring in my legs for a moment before fading. Ayelle's regeneration is nothing like as good as mine, but we are surrounded by magic and human misery. The.. entrance is… Triangular, with the tunnel exit at one point and the door out on the opposite flat surface. Designed to force someone breaching it to confront several defenders at once if they managed to get out of the obvious choke point the tunnel itself represents. Three crude demonpunk robots stand at the ready between me and the door, two with glowing blades and the other with…

With a gun like a larger version of what the people in Purgatory were using.

Okay, we're learning something.

The robots study me for a moment, then step aside to allow me entry.

"Pretty good, aren't they?"

"Do they feel pain?"

"Hah, one track mind. Nice landing, by the way."

I strut past and shove open the interior door. Not sure if he's watching, but I add as much of a hip-roll as this armour allows to my walk, swing the tail to add emphasis-.

Have you done this before, Lantern?

My soul is plugged into a demon made of this. It would be more weird if I didn't know how to do this.

Wait. He said that he didn't marry Arin, not that he wasn't interested.

Didn't-?

Arin Sur did not display herself in such a fashion. She had class.

Fair enough. I meant no offence.

The interior of the bunker is metal, a brass-colour that I assume isn't actually brass because that's a terrible material for armour. Fewer runes here than on the exterior, but I can see the similarity in structure and intent. There are a couple of doors leading off to my right, and they put me in mind of submarine doors: handwheel in place of a handle and the door designed to form a seal when closed. Probably not for water, so… Thaumic isolation? It would also form another choke point.

"Just up ahead!"

That door is open, and I step into…

Huh.

A demonpunk mechanical workshop. Things which look like modern factory robots move around conveyor belts, only the power cables are replaced by plates covered in demonic runes and the coloured plastic or metal cowling is replaced by more bare brass. There's a certain… Organic structure to the thing, as if it was made by breaking up robot animals, or… Trying to make an animal statue using scrap metal. All very effective-looking. And there's more than one conveyor belt. I can see one smaller setup making cybernetics while another appears to be working on robots, another on guns-. And that one is actively applying enchantments, that's brilliant!

And up there in the control pulpit…

"Hey!"

A… Sort of spiky outline of a man made of purple and pink light waves from his seat. I can see white lines like… Lightning or circuitry under his 'skin', and there's a jagged corona around his head-. Is that a beard?

"What do you think?!"

"It's very… Mechanical."

"Yeah!" His body bends and contorts and… Sort of transmits itself down to floor level before reforming. Some of the machines slow for a moment, then he waves a hand at it. Tiny flecks of pink fire leap onto them, merging with their runic power units and causing them to swing into action again. "You don't see that in other places, do you?"

"No."

"This could have been everywhere by now. Fucking Renderers. Can't take competition!"

I make a point of looking upwards. "Is that what happened to the workshop?"

"My workshop." He reaches up with his right hand and scratches his head. "But… I can rebuild. I am rebuilding. Then I'll get that stick insect bastard."

"Good luck with that."

He scratches his head again. "Good luck? Surprisingly… Upbeat?"

"I do physical pain. If you want emotional torment, get a girlfriend."

"Heh, right." He goes to scratch his head again, then yanks his hand down. "Sorry, don't have… Nits or anything. But ever since Agony and Ecstasy did my.. induction, if I go too long without one or the other..."

I nod sympathetically. "Imaginable suffering is part of any sensible work/life balance."

"Honestly, I thought he'd forgotten, you know? Or was it her?"

Whoever it is he thinks hired me, presumably.

"I didn't ask. Professional ethics."

"Be nice to know. Not much I can do about it either way right now, but-. It's like needles, y'know? I'm fine if I can see it going in."

I nod. "So, blindfolds with the needles?"

"Maybe. See how it goes." He glances around and then takes a few steps away from the machinery. "Here alright?"

I smile cruelly, sauntering closer as I pull a nutcracker off my belt with my right hand and shove him back against the wall with my left.

"Sure." I take my left off his shoulder, take hold of my soul cage amulet with it and pull it off, my real form bubbling outwards. "Anywhere's fine."

He looks up at my real face.

"Is this extra?"

"Technically? No."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 20
26th March 2013
15:36 GMT

"…like me being around because I wasn't a proper demon. I just hijacked Nergal's manifested structure and used it as a filter." As much as I can tell, he looks disgruntled. "For all of five seconds, until the Incest Twins told me that wasn't how it worked. Not like I really wanted to come to Hell in the first place. I mean, who does?"

He tries to make a gesture of helplessness with both arms, but the left doesn't really move as it's strapped to a board.

"You might-."

"Fucking Constantine. I mean, I know it wasn't like he actually meant any of it to happen, and he came to me in the first place because he didn't know how to hack computers with magic and I could have turned him down… But it's just that this shit happens too much around him."

"I under-"

I bring my thumb and forefinger together around the metacarpal of his left little finger. Despite his lack of a normal anatomy, I hear a crunch.

"-stand."

"AA-HHAOW, that's the stuff."

"So the lady Rosacarnis offered to sponsor you?"

"Uh…" That was more of an awkward pause than a thinking pause. "I was using her father's body. She was worried that he'd come back, so she sent some demons after me. They dragged me back because they didn't know what she wanted them to do with me. Sponsoring me came later."

I take a firmer grip on his little finger and bend it back, the broken ends of the bone grinding against the flesh. He gasps.

"Heh-eh. You know, I always wondered if people who were into bondage just didn't feel pain or something. If they had lower serotonin sensitivity or something. But it hurts, I don't, and I need you to keep going."

"And that got you started in Odium."

"No, no, I was operating out of her palace for a while. She wanted me to prove I could make something. You know, do something practical and not just waffle on about theory."

"And she was fine with you using her father's body?"

"Oh, yeah. She used that as an intimidation tactic at the start, about how much of an insult it was, but, I mean… I was already in Hell. I was already as intimidated as I could get."

"I didn't think you actually died."

"My body got burned to a crisp. I saw it in John's memories."

"Yes, but you weren't in it at the time. If you'd transferred yourself into a robotic body we wouldn't-."

"That's not how it works. A body, a normal human body, is a much better anchor for the soul than a robot body. That's what being alive is: anchoring. That's why my workshop has heavy duty runes physically attached to all of the moving parts rather than just running off a spell. Nergal's body had a load of links to ritual sites… Could have stayed on Earth for decades without… Y'know, redoing them."

"Ritually murdering a bunch of people and using them as magic fuel?"

"Yeah. I mean, Nergal mostly drove people mad and had them do the killing. It was just more practical. But if Agony and Ecstasy hadn't turned up… Well, they did."

I slowly close my right fist around his left hand, fracturing bones and mashing the flesh together. He'll regenerate quickly enough.

"Nummmmmmgh."

"But you were dead, and those external anchors weren't much use."

"Not now-. Not to me." I release his hand and he stares at it fixedly as the fingers gradually pull themselves-.

He's slowing it down. He's deliberately reducing the rate at which he regenerates to prolong the sensation.

I… Think that I might see about cloning him a human body. See if that… Helps, at all.

"Rosacarnis took control of them as part of her inheritance?"

"Yeah." He flexes the still-broken fingers, shuddering in pain that just makes him smile more. "I don't think she uses them herself, but I don't know what she actually uses them for."

"Alright, so you proved that you were the real thing, and she sponsored you for the workshop upstairs?"

"I wish. She got me a shed, and I had to pay her back. I had to work up to that warehouse. I was proud of it."

"You expected fair and honest competition in Hell?"

"I thought I had backers! Mutually assured destruction, balance of terror. You know? I thought that if I made myself useful to enough people that would be protection, even if I had to pay them back afterwards."

I nod sympathetically. "Did you die before the Dyson vacuum cleaner was invented?"

"I haven't heard of it, so I think so."

"Dyson had a similar problem with Hoover. They didn't want the market to change, either. Only because Earth has laws, they were limited to offering to buy his intellectual property and sitting on it, whereas down here it's a bit more nineteenth century."

"You're right there. Which is why I took Satanus's offer."

"You designed his cybernetics?"

"He had some stuff before. But I made real improvements, and I can make them much faster than he could. He could hook me up with raw materials and the teleportation system to bring them here."

"I assume this was your panic room? You came down here when the attack happened?"

"No. Built this later." He sighs. "Satanus could get me past the spells the Renderers put up. Lent me some of his people to dig this place out."

I nod. "I'm surprised. I thought that his cyborgs couldn't leave Purgatory."

"No, no. He's got demons, too. I mean, he's a Demon Lord. He's had plenty of time to get minions. I thought they'd be trouble, but they were hard workers."

"But why return to your folly?"

"Magic residue. This place is already covered in my magic, so they won't think anything of it if they keep feeling my magic. The only other place I could go would be Rosacarnis's palace, because I feel a bit like Nergal."

I nod. "Any further contact with Rosacarnis?"

"Yes. And not a word of apology. And now I have to cut in Satanus for a shipping fee, and I have to suck it up because there's no way I'd survive another attack like that." He sighs again. "They could have bought me out, or demanded a cut or something. I'd rather have gone along with it rather than have all my work ruined."

"I hate to put it this way, Mister Simpson, but they're demons. It's not even about self-interest, really. A lot of the time they're practically Kantian in their evil."

He nods. "So what happens now? Satanus isn't-."

"Oh." I shake my head. "I don't mind. Honestly, when I mention this to the First I'll be speaking in your favour. Innovation has to be enabled, or else how can Hell progress. But first, I'm going to finish working you over as I agreed."

He nods happily, stretching his newly healed fingers. "I wasn't sure I'd like having another man do it, but-."

"Don't… Make this weirder than it is already."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th October 2010
08:12 GMT -5

"I-I-I-I-I re-. Re-. Reeeeea-."

The turquoise-skinned gynoid twitches, its vocal systems-. No, those are degraded but functional. The problem must be in its mental networks. It literally can't turn thought to speech due to parts of its brain being missing.

I dip my head slightly, visually assessing the damage.

Alright, most of the right side of its brain missing.

Mia lays it down on my work bench, trying to cushion its head as she does so. That's a pointless endeavour. What's left of its skin is far tougher than human skin, its endoskeleton is far better at absorbing shocks and the general damage after the fusion bomb went off has thoroughly fried what was left of its peripheral nervous system.

"Can you fix her?"

"Oh."

Okay, don't say 'Is that what you wanted?'.

She didn't say that was what she wanted. I thought she was just giving it to me for study. This might not be B13, but it's the closest we're going to get.

And how do you think a superhero should respond to this situation?

Ah… Research the nanotechnology so…

Yes..?

I mentally sigh.

She thinks this gynoid has human-equivalent mental sophistication. She wants me to repair it because she thinks it's a person.

The Brainiac drone had her for several hours. It's possible that she's learned something that you haven't.

"Oh, probably. Or if I can't, I can substitute parts to get her up and about."

I risk a smile. Artemis has been… Giving me pointers, but apparently the best I can do is 'school yearbook'. According to her, that's better than 'serial killer', which is good because serial killers are usually pretty unhappy people.

That's not why it's better.

Fortunately, Mia's not looking at me. She's looking at the trembling gynoid's face.

"Have you got-!? Cyborg painkillers?"

"I doubt very much that it's in pain. It's trembling because of damage to its motive systems. I can make it stop if you want."

She nods, and I sever the connection between the gynoid's brain module and the rest of its body. For an instant its body goes slack, then some parts-. Ah, I see, they're trying to move to a default position. They're mostly failing due to the damage, but it's sort of like a robot jerk reflex. The brain isn't required.

"Okay." Mia looks her over. "How long is this going to take?"

"I have no idea."

You know, you could-.

Scan.

Sure thing, sport!

Huh.

"The-."

"Well?"

"The.. drone was much more simple. Not much more sophisticated than one of Earth's most advanced robots… Apart from the brain, presumably."

She frowns. "But… Coluan technology is far more advanced than that."

"One of Earth's most advanced robots. The mad genius sort. Tomorrow Woman's muscles, Ace Android's bones, Carapax's armour and Kilgore's communications array… The brain wasn't recoverable after the electromagnetic pulse, so I can't tell you anything about it."

"Oh. So it-. I just assumed that it came from Colu."

"It might have done. But I didn't see anything either when we fought or since that would let me conclude that with any certainty."

She nods. "And what about her?"

"Much more advanced. Which is part of the problem." I expand an image of part of her interior. "Nanotech residue. It looks like it was designed to have a circulatory system that used it for self-repair, whereas the Brainiac drone had to manually replace parts of itself."

"And…" She nods slowly in understanding. "They all got fried by the E.M.P."

"Completely destroyed. The residue is enough that I can tell that they existed, but I can tell almost nothing else about them. I'm assessing its advancement based on the remaining parts of the brain unit more than anything else."

"Could you replace them with my nanobots?"

I frown, and then when that's not enough I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Your nanobots..? Which are designed to merge kryptonian and human genetics in a single organic body and grant it superpowers?"

"Yeah?"

…

"And not-?"

Be nice.

"Sure." I point to the blood extraction array I built to draw her blood. "You remember how it works."

She nods and walks over to it, inserting her arm into the hole. A tiny piece of ultra-sharp something that I recovered in a scavenging mission will cut through her skin and then a suction tube will remove a little of her blood before the nanobots close the hole. And then do it again and again until it's managed to extract enough of a sample to work with. Her nanobots tend to self-destruct when exposed to… Just about anything that's not her body. It's not impossible that they'll recognise a fellow Brainiacite and be helpful instead…

Hardly a problem for me if something goes wrong.

She's watching-.

Repair.

Orange light flashes out in a way that will probably make her happy. Rebuilding the gynoid's body is fairly simple. Which is to say either easy or impossible. I don't have good 'before' scans so there are large parts that I can't reliably repair. The brain in particular is going to absorb my experimental time for the next… Week or two? And that will just be to make it functional. I literally can't replicate a partially disassembled computer brain from the future. But if I assume bilateral symmetry and that the tissues retain a similar structure in different parts of the body…

The partial rebuild finishes. Mia looks a little impressed. Why-?

"It's not finished. The skin's just relatively simple."

But without nanotech, quite a lot of this won't work as intended. And if Mia wants it up and around, some ability to function in human society would probably be helpful. How should I go about that?

Hm. If the probe used something like Tomorrow Woman's tissue, I suppose that's a reasonable place to start. Her remains I could scan perfectly well, once Professor Ivo's scan-resistant coating was removed. Doesn't help with the brain -Tomorrow Woman's brain was synthetic-organic and couldn't interface with the remaining Coluan parts- but it will do for the rest.

"Hey."

Mia offers me the filled vial. The gynoid doesn't have an immune system that could react badly to the blood, and Tomorrow Woman's circulatory system can take them to every part of the gynoid's body. I take the vial, open a hole to one of the remaining nanotech reserves and pour the blood inside before sealing it.

"There. I still need to finish her brain. I'll let you know when I'm ready to wake her up."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th October 2010
11:52 GMT -5

I turn the lights on, and Artemis is already recoiling-. Then she stops.

"What?"

"You told me that you wanted me to get a hobby that didn't involve cutting up small animals. I.. worked out that you didn't mean that you wanted me to do testing on larger animals, so-"

"Yeah, good."

She walks over to one of the displays and picks up a miniature.

"-I-."

"Oh, they're like… Army men."

…

Perhaps I should have just built a girlfriend? I have all of Tomorrow Woman's specifications and it wouldn't be that hard to generate an agreeable personality matrix-.

No, no. There's no reason for her to have encountered Warhammer 40,000 before. Be reasonable.

"It's a British science fiction wargame."

"Oh." She puts the gargoyle down and picks up a pulsa rocket. "So… They fight each other?"

I take a calming breath. "When I was… Thirteen? My mother made it clear to me that other people won't necessarily find things as interesting as I do. This is something that I'm really into, and I've finally got the ability to get into it as much as I want to. So while I can happily quote chapter and verse about everything here, you… Might find it better to specify what you want to know."

She looks concerned, but I think it's more 'oh God a nerd' concerned rather than 'I'm getting serial killer vibes' concerned. "What are these.. green ones?"

Thank you.

"Orks."

"And those are… Rockets?

"Pulsa rockets. Basically, a rocket motor on a force field projector. They fire them at enemy armies and the force field knocks any soldier anywhere near it over."

"You've… Got a lot of them."

I nod, smiling. 16 of them, enough to pin most armies for an entire game. Not quite enough against Tyranids some of the time, but I couldn't quite fit 24 in under the points limit.

"The army represents an artillery battery. You see the-" Almost fair. "-fellow with the big gun and the tiny green things?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"That's a teleportation gun. It opens a portal in space, they chase the little ones through it and send them into a berserk frenzy, and they appear inside vehicles and slaughter the crew."

"And the guys with wheels for legs?"

A Warboss in mega armour with a kustom shoota, gyro-stabilised monowheel and a small group of Bigbosses with the same. 8" basic movement, 16" charge, an average of 4 S6 shots per turn at BS6/5 but which could be 6 S10 shots each, WS7 for the Warboss due to his spike attack arm and WS5 for the Bigbosses which isn't so impressive, but they were mostly fighting people who escaped the pulsa field or vehicles anyway and their power fists were enough for that. I considered giving the Warboss combat drugs for a 32" charge range but I decided that it would leave him too isolated.

"Effectively, heavy cavalry for counter-attacking. Everything else is shooting."

She points to the gretchin. "What about-?"

"Meat shields. Most units have to shoot whatever's closest, so those stand between the important stuff and the enemy and take bullets for them."

"Huh." She turns to the Tyranids. "What about these Alien.. big monster things? You've got a lot of the same thing."

"Tyranids. And those are gargoyles. Flying monsters with flamethrowers. Under most circumstances that's enough to wipe out all enemy infantry on turn two. The big ones are Hive Tyrants, and it's their job to shoot heavier things and kill enemy wizards with their magic."

I just about manage not to wince at putting it like that. Naturally, the zoanthropes are the vehicle killers and the main user of force cards as other than Psychic Scream Tyranid psychic powers are pretty bad, and the gargoyle broods are minimum size to limit the effects of leadership failures.

Artemis looks them over, obviously fails to comprehend and moves along the row. "And these guys are humans?"

Scout squads with teleport homers, techmarines with warp jumps and vortex grenades and a swarm of customised vehicles with as many assault cannons as they have weapon mounts. Turn one mass teleport followed by everything important in the enemy army vanishing into the warp, unless they've got a vortex detonator or a teleport jammer in which case you lose. I think that the original version of this build used jump packs instead of warp jumps, but that seemed to be aiming for a turn two crippling and risked the techmarines being shot or zoned out.

"Yes."

She moves along the line. "And these are ogres?"

Ogryn with ripper guns mounted in chimera IFVs with supercharged engines, ablative armour and bulldozer blades, a force designed to cross the table in a single turn and drop off the ogryn within 'literally can't miss' range and blow away anything that can be killed by S4 fire. I read about that tactic in White Dwarf, and that version added a commissar to increase the BS of the multilaser turret. But as far as I can tell from the main rulebook only crew and engineers can fire a tank's weapons, and while I could get BS5 by jumping a techpriest with a bionic eye in on turn 1 it didn't seem worth it. The rest of the army is intended to minmax the preparatory bombardment rule, because no other army in the game can wipe out an enemy before turn 1.

"Big, mutant humans. From high gravity worlds."

"Huh. So… Do you play with them?"

"No. These armies were designed for the game's second edition. The game is on its fifth edition now. Most of these units don't even exist anymore."

"Okay. Did you paint them?"

"No, I never had the patience for that. I designed the paint scheme and had the ring do it."

She shrugs, shaking her head. "Then..?"

"I like designing the army lists as a composition exercise. And I like having them."

Though the next one was going to be an entirely tournament-legal Necron writhing worldscape/tremorstaves list, because 'the floor is lava, and so is everything else' seems like an amusing thing to inflict on someone.

"Okay." She puts down Nork Deddog. "That's…" She nods. "No animals hurt. You did what I asked."

Ah…

"The original versions of most of those models were made of lead, so…"

Sport, you've got a situation.

I didn't think I was doing that badly. Okay, girl and wargaming, but as far as that goes-.

"Could you teach me how to play?"

I blink.

I… Keep blinking.

She looks at me. "What?"

"Ah, sorry. Ring… Message. Yes?"

"The gynoid is waking up."

"What? She's down to two fifths of a brain, how can she be waking up?"

"I don't know what to tell you, sport. Her eyes are focusing and her fingers are twitching in a controlled sort of way."

The nanotech-.

"Right, we're heading that way now, please inform Mia. Artemis." I lean in and briefly kiss her on the lips, an action that appears to take her by surprise. "I would be delighted to."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th October 2010
11:57 GMT -5

Mia meets up with us at an-

"I didn't think-. Wait, what were you doing?"

-intersection. She looks a little agitated.

"We were-." / "Nothing!"

I stop, frowning, and look at Artemis. And then Mia, who's… Smiling?

Doesn't matter. I fly down the corridor, opening the security door to my workshop. The gynoid is securely attached to the workbench by kinetic absorption devices that should resist the level of strength that it demonstrated when we fought the Brainiac probe. The ring is right, its fingers are moving in a more coordinated way than they were before I disconnected its brain module. A connection which.. has been restored. Mia's nanotech hasn't just gone to work, it's actually multiplied and spread across the gynoid's systems. It appears to have accepted the physical changes I made… Somewhat, but has changed other parts for reasons I'm not-

I hear Artemis gasp behind me.

-totally sure of.

"Why is she naked?"

I frown. "Because I-."

"DON't.. say 'because I didn't put any clothes on her'."

"Okay." Scan in detail. I want to know what's going on in her brain module.

You got it, sport. Sorry I didn't catch the 'naked' thing a second ago.

Why? It is naked.

"Mia?"

The nanobots appear to have focused on restoring the self-repair system and then migrated to her brain. It… They've actually modified the bits that were still there a lot. I suppose that if the far more primitive human-built robots can handle full human mind uploads then the super-advanced Coluan computer should be able to do the same.

"I thought he was still working on her. So he needed access to everything."

"Everything?"

I only fixed the parts where I could tell from the surrounding components what was supposed to be there; micro-fractures and things like that. I haven't even installed the rest of the brain yet.

"Ah, Paul?"

"Mia?"

Okay, so if we assume that the Brainiac probe was controlling it in the same way that it was controlling Mia, then having it active isn't a problem. Mia appears to believe that to be the case. I don't. Literally every version of Brainiac I know of is evil, with the exception of the one from the Legion of Super-Heroes, and if this thing was theirs then they would have already picked it up. More to the point, we can't prove it either way without activating it.

"Could you put something on her?"

"Yes?"

So what do I do about it? How do I make sure-?

Artemis puts her right hand on my shoulder and pulls me around.

"Put. Clothes. On her."

Oh. Why can't more people be like Artemis? That's a perfectly clear request.

She glances at my work. "I was thinking more, but okay. That's… Something."

"Artemis, I desire you far more than I could any gynoid. Emotional bonds with someone with actual free will are far more meaningful than building a sex robot. This gynoid is no rival for my feelings for you."

"That-. Wasn't-." She looks away for a moment. "Okay. Ah, thanks?"

"I could have built a sex robot at almost any point since I got-."

"Now you're ruining it."

"But I didn't, that's-."

She sticks out her right arm, pointing at the gynoid.

You see? Perfectly clear again. And Mia's just standing there looking gormless.

I point the ring at the gynoid's head and fabricate a new right hemisphere. Immediately the gynoid seizes up and then settles into its physical default position.

I investigated robotics, of course. The human body has innumerable flaws and weaknesses, and switching to a robotic one might have been a sensible choice. But the fact is that modern Earth robotics just aren't good enough. Certainly they have advantages in some areas, but between the numbness, the dysphoria, and the lack of the soup of chemicals that work together to moderate and motivate the human brain… The disadvantages are just too severe even if a consciousness transfer or brain transplant works. The Brain from the Brotherhood of Evil managed to make the brain-machine link work perfectly, and he was able to work through-.

Ah?

Yes, yes. I used Dr. Shanner's work on the gynoid. A near exact copy of the brain of the gynoid 'Sis'. Obviously that's not a solution I would have gone with if I had more time, but for a radioactive death machine Sis was pretty harmless.

Ah..?

Personality-wise. And that should give the nanobots something to work on. Progress?

The nanobots are extending their nanotubes into the new circuitry, connecting it to the more advanced but incomplete parts that were already present. Quick work on their part, and… Yes, they're flooding that part of its brain and trying to work out what it's for. They might just use the whole thing for raw materials, but… No. They are modifying it, but it looks like they just want to turn it into something that can integrate, rather than changing it completely. Well, that's basically what they do with Mia's body, so that makes sense.

Mia frowns. "I thought you said it would take longer."

"It would if I was acting with care. Rushing it because the gynoid is trying to reactivate before being fully repaired I can just shove something in and hope for the best."

"What?!"

"I never claimed to understand time-travelling Coluan technology. This is the best I can do. Scans show that it's working, but if you want a second opinion then you've got about… Twenty seconds to get it."

"I.. can't get anyone in twenty seconds."

Artemis sighs and nods. "He knows. That's why he said it like that."

She gets me.

The integration is finished, and I can see parts of the right hemisphere start to activate. Data is being exchanged, and parts of the body are being linked to the new neuroware.

And then its eyes blink and it starts trying to focus-.

"Hey." Mia interposes herself between it and the rest of the room. "Are you feeling… Better?"

A new pattern of activation as it searches for the right words. The section that I noticed as being damaged earlier is active, as are several other parts that Dr. Shanner designed for the same purpose. And altogether?

"Yes." The gynoid jerks in surprise as it hears its own voice. "Yes. I am… Fully functional."

Mia smiles. "And do you remember who you are?"

"I am…" Another patch activates, then she frowns. Facial emulators. "Eight… Eighth… Indigo. Yes. I am Indigo."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 21
27th March 2013
21:44 GMT

"You're right."

Bruce nods, a display of the discrepancies visible on the main screen of his computer. Which is not called 'the bat computer', or any variation thereof. He was quite clear about that, and appeared to genuinely not know what I was talking about the first time I used that name. It's a bit like how the batmobile was named as such by Richard, and before that was 'officially' just called 'the car'.

It just goes to show that if that bat hadn't flown through the window on his first night out, he genuinely would have bled to death. Naming things is not Bruce's forte.

"Colin Thornton has been importing raw materials far in excess of his company's use of them. I wasn't able to determine what he is using them for."

I nod solemnly as he turns away from the screen and towards me.

"Do you intend to tell me what you know?"

"Regrettably, I am bound not to for the next nine days. Of course, should you choose to investigate on your own recognisance, that would be your affair."

"And after nine days?"

I wave my right hand dismissively. "On the off-chance that it's still an issue, I can tell you then."

So long as I don't personally profit from it, at least. But we made sure to draft the contract in such a way that the First couldn't just show me everything in order to prevent me doing anything about any of it forever.

Thing is, in terms of efficiency…

Simpson got stamped on for disrupting the market contrary to the interests of the market leader. Or 'dominant market player' at least. But, he got picked up by another senior demon and is working for him, which isn't as efficient as a pure free market where demons can choose between flesh modifications and mechanical ones, but it does indicate that his talents aren't just being wasted. And things might change in his favour in the longer term, as Satanus meets with more success and others are forced to reconsider their own methods.

But…

Satanus is sitting pretty on Earth and in Purgatory. Which means that the rest of Hell won't even see what he's using. So there's that. The Renderers didn't even make Simpson an offer, which suggests that demon hiring practices are sub-mafiosi. It's unlikely to just be Simpson who suffered that sort of treatment, he's just the one I know about. If-.

"Do I need to investigate within the next nine days?"

"If you're asking me if a person like me would advise a person like you that a person like Mister Thornton should be investigated rapidly, I suspect that person would say 'no'. However, since such advice would come before an in-depth investigation, it would be impossible to say for certain that it wasn't necessary."

"I see. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you." Hm. Bruce and I don't meet up too often. Is there anything I need to check..? "Director Armstrong not making too much of a nuisance of herself so far?"

"She threatened to instruct child services to investigate my treatment of Robin."

I bite my lip, then look up at the ceiling.

"Since she can't touch the Justice League directly, she intends to target our associates. Our families."

"Batman, I'm sure that you had your reasons. But I wouldn't dream of getting my children involved in-."

"Darfur."

"Sunset and Misa were both older, and Lynne didn't have to go anywhere near the actual fighting. And she's a lot more resilient than Richard is. I wouldn't have given that task to my younger children, and you'll note that I haven't done anything like that again." I shake my head. "Look, Richard is sixteen. They can't take him away from you now because he can just manumit himself-."

"Emancipate himself."

"And come back on his own. And… Frankly, yeah. I'm not keen on people Richard's age doing fieldwork. Yes, I've heard your explanations, all our missions ballooned out of control and half the time it was because of something we did, and Richard needed something to focus on other than hunting Anthony Zucco down and brutally murdering him… But I still don't think that it was the right decision."

"Robin and I do."

"Child services won't." I shrug. "The best way to avoid blackmail is to either not have anything that can be used to blackmail you, or to not care. Armstrong's probably going to do something stupid before too long, get herself in over her head." I smile broadly. "Personally, I find the idea of Bruce Wayne being appointed to the Directorship hilarious. That is the sort of thing politicians give to their donors, isn't it?"

He considers it. Briefly.

"I wouldn't have the time."

"Then you could try finding someone else. As I said, she's too aggressive to avoid making a mess of things eventually. And she hates it when her attempts at hardball don't work. I'd just ask you not to set her off for a couple of years. Having her fight the other alphabet agencies for territory is ensuring that the D.M.A. will last, and we do sort of need it."

"Mm."

"Well, thank you again. I'll leave you to it. Mother Box, hush tube."

"Ping."

I step through the tube, back into Gull. Well away from the debris of Neron's tantrum and into the realm of the upper class merchants. A thin and pointy-looking demon who puts me a little in mind of a Muppet in general appearance sniffs at me.

"Does sir have an appointment?"

"Sir has a letter of authority from the First."

He draws himself up-. And that's when I see that his modern and well-tailored suit is made from human skin. Human facial skin, to be precise. The eyelids, mouths and noses are sewn shut and I… Haven't studied human leatherwork to know how exactly they got it to tessellate like that, but-.

As the demon reaches out to take the letter with its right hand it strokes one of the faces with its left, the eyes momentarily opening and looking at me with an expression of absolute terror and suffering, closing when he move his left hand away.

The demon smiles at me smugly, then flips open the letter. He looks it over briefly, then nods. I doubt that he read it all, but he doesn't really need to. The First's mark at the bottom is enough to let him know that the matter is well above his level.

"Please wait here, sir." He passes the letter back to me. "I will inform Lord Mammon that you desire his company."

I nod and smile. "Thank you. That's a fetching coat you have."

"Thank you, sir. Gamblers who don't know when to stop are my particular speciality. Surprisingly good at judging risk, when it's not their money on the line. I'll leave you now, sir. Please feel free to order refreshments."

He turns and walks towards the cavernous hall containing Central Exchange. Here is where Hell conducts most of its financial business with the Earth. Leading people to damnation with financial transactions rather than simply trading favours for souls. Honestly, the way this place operates is far closer to how I imagined that Hell should work than anywhere else I've visited. It also acts as a central bank for Hell's own currency, though the relatively small size of Hell's middle class means that it's mostly used by demons who work here rather than anyone else.

I didn't prioritise it because as far as I can tell it works properly. The financial market doesn't require that everyone make good choices all the time, it just needs to reward good choices and punish bad ones. Rewards result in more power being given to people who make good decisions. The whole system is therefore self-correcting so long as basic social order is maintained. And in these halls, Mammon is good at making sure that happens.

A small skivvy-imp flies down from a small doorway high in the wall and floats in front of me.

"Lord Mammon will see you now. Please, follow me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 21
27th March 2013
21:52 GMT

To my mild surprise, Mammon isn't alone in his office. Though due to the Demon Lord's sheer bulk, it takes me a moment to spot the other demon. Mammon is big, red, dressed in a suit which barely contains either his bulging muscles or corpulent gut. There's a decorative gold necklace around his neck, rings on his fingers, a ring through his chin and… If I'm seeing right, his nipples are pierced by large… What do you call them?

I had not conceived that such things would need to be named.

Nipple.. fishing weights? His fat means that his head merges with his neck, the location of which I can only deduce by the location of his collar which -to be fair- is as well-tailored as it could be. There's gold thread in the jacket and trousers, and if I had to summarise the whole thing I'd say 'unusually blunt communist depiction of the capitalist class'.

He's also huge. I'm slightly smaller than his head, and I'm not exactly a small man. The area of the room around his desk is scaled to him, giving me a distinctly Lilliputian feeling. Honestly, the size is throwing me a little. In financial terms he's the richest man down here, but it's in much the same way that merchant princes in the Middle Ages could well be richer than their kings. Pleasant, until one of the paupers with an army decided to pay them with your savings. He isn't that powerful, magically speaking. Not compared to the First or even Neron. And yet, for some reason, he's choosing to present himself like this to me.

"Yes, yes, you may go, Flragrah."

And that's when the other demon draws my attention to him, walking across the carpet. I… Think I remember him from John's notes. Unless I miss my guess that's Blathoxi, Lord of… Flatulence, of all things, and the head of the commodities exchange. He looks like his boss in miniature: less muscle, a suit that's fifty years out of style and -thank Heaven for small mercies- no immediately obvious piercings. He has membranous wings which his boss lacks, while Mammon has small horns that Blathoxi doesn't have. On the face of it Blathoxi looks like no threat at all, but he's still a second-tier demon.

My escort bows and backs away four paces before turning and leaving the office. I see Mammon smirk, extend his right hand slightly and flick, a huge gold coin flying from his desk and impacting the wall just in front of Flragrah, causing him to start and back up, looking back to see exactly what his master intends.

"A gratuity for your good work, Flragrah. Take it."

"Thank you, eminence."

He bows, then reaches up and tries to pull it out of the… Wood? But it looks like it's firmly stuck.

Flragrah flaps his wings, planting his feet on the wall and tugging with all his might. And not just his physical strength. Flragrah isn't exactly top tier, but a demon working the door somewhere like this isn't going to be weak.

It isn't coming.

"Flragrah, we are trying to have a meeting here."

The tone is understanding, but the grin says it all. He's tormenting his underling, not with physical pain but with stress and shame. Given the opportunity to profit, and then putting him in a position where not only can he not take advantage of it but also doesn't know how he's supposed to handle it.

I could step in and-.

Blathoxi makes eye contact with me, gives his head a small shake and then motions towards… A tiny desk in front of the huge desk of the demon lord. I nod, following him with only a quick glance back-.

Flragrah has torn off his own left hand, demon blood spurting out and… Lubricating the giant coin. He winces as he pushes his hand back onto the stump and mutters something, putrid smoke wafting from the wound. He shudders in pain.

Mammon leans forwards, forearms steepled. "Well?"

Wrist still smoking, Flragrah applies himself to the coin once more and this time it comes free. But he's not ready for it and it falls on him, his wounded arm failing to support it.

Mammon's grin widens.

Flragrah manages to prop the coin against his left shoulder to arrest its movement, then gradually pushes it into an upright position where he can roll it to the door. Very carefully, he moves around to the front and starts slowly rolling it towards himself. By the time I've reached the desk he's just about managed to get it out of the door.

"Hah!" Mammon claps as the door closes. "Good initiative under pressure. That one is going places, Blathoxi, you mark my words."

"Consider them marked, Lord."

"Now…" Mammon leans forward, so that he can see me over his desk. "Grayven."

"Lord Mammon. Thank you for agreeing to see me."

"Not often the First gets interested in what we do down here. No interest in collecting souls, no interest in mortal economics, barely any interest in the administration of Hell most of the time. At least Lucifer was up for the occasional wager, canny bastard that he was."

He tilts his head a little to the left, then moves his right hand out of sight-.

The desk I'm standing next to and a circle of the carpet around it shoots upwards, Blathoxi standing entirely unruffled at my side. It comes to a halt level with Mammon's desk, letting him look at us from a slouched-back position, hands clasped over his corpulent belly.

"What can I do for you?"

I take out my letter of authority, but Mammon raises his right hand.

"No, no. That won't be necessary. I trust that you are who you claim to be."

I unfold the letter and hold it out towards him, his eyes unable to avoid being drawn to it. Only once they move away do I fold it back up and put it away.

Clearly, it was necessary.

"The First has contracted me to examine Hell's economy."

Blathoxi scowls. "Then why did it take you so long to come here?"

"Because as far as I can tell, this is the one part of Hell that's working properly. You tempt people to give into their vices, and if they fail, collect your due. You trade with one another, each with the aim of grasping every possible advantage, and there are winners and losers. The winners gain more authority, but you limit certain types of competition in order to keep the market functioning. Honestly, if it was up to me, I'd just put you in charge of the whole place."

Blathoxi… Is actually smiling. It's pretty disturbing to look at, a sneer with just enough genuine joy to add an element of confusion.

His master, however, is unmoved. "Governance is of little interest to me. The system I and my like-minded students have built is not something that would survive the likes of Neron setting it on fire when he throws a tantrum. It is sadly true that what has been built can always be destroyed."

"But that doesn't mean that it's always wrong to build. Demons are thinking creatures, you all want more than you have. You don't want the same old same old for eternity."

"You're speaking my language, godling. Top tier toadying. But you still haven't answered my question."

"In order to make recommendations to the First, I need to understand Hell's economic systems. I had thought that I could just make a few pertinent observations and call it a day, but your natures are so different to mortal creatures and the world you live in so dissimilar in its operating principles to what I'm used to that I don't think it will work. I need an understanding that I suspect that you possess so that I can begin to change this mess into something more rational. So in the First's name, oh Lord of Greed, share your wisdom with me."

"If you just wanted a chat, you should have come here at the start. The First's favour is rare coin. Blathoxi, get the economic modelling files. We're going to be at this a while."

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th March 2013
07:10 GMT +2

Dr. Roquette looks up as I pull out the chair opposite her.

"You're looking better."

I sit down as she looks down, nodding self-consciously.

"Y-eah. Between those tablets you gave me and… Actually seeing my nanobots actually help people, I…" She breathes in deeply and then breathes out again. "I haven't even wanted to drink again." She picks up her glass of orange juice. "Juice only."

"I'm glad to hear it. But are you feeling better? Or are you just changing your behaviour?"

She takes a sip. "No, no, I do actually feel better." She frowns mildly. "What was in those tablets, anyway? Some sort of space addiction-suppressant? Because I think I had some sort of reaction-."

"Psilocybin."

She looks up from her yoghurt, eyes widening slightly as she watches me for a sign that I'm joking. "Oh. That explains the hallucinations and why you told me not to operate machinery for four hours."

"The League developed several psychoactive chemicals to try and fight off the Anti-Life, but… Unless you're being continuously exposed, psilocybin works just as well and has less risk of causing brain or liver damage."

"Do you want to have the tablets I've got left over back-?" She blinks. "Are these illegal in Greece?"

"If they are, then I doubt that they're enforcing it."

She breathes in slowly and then snorts the air out through her nostrils before taking another spoonful of honey-drizzled yoghurt.

"No problems with your co-workers or with the government?"

She thinks for a moment, then swallows. "No, everyone's… Doing their best. If.. anything, the Finance Ministry is being too accommodating."

"How do you mean?"

"Usually, applying for funding is a lot more adversarial. Here, they say they'll give anything for a miracle…" She frowns a little. "And I actually can. I guess I just sort of assumed it would be in testing forever."

"Under normal circumstances it might well. But whatever-."

Wait. Wait just a-.

Did-? Anti-Lifeing the Earth do something to Boss Smiley? We found that people with strong morals and a strong sense of purpose managed to cope better than people who didn't. People most in tune with him would have been hit the hardest, and… Been Justified? Would he feel that? There's a certain logic to the thought, but… Ugh, I don't even know if he actually exists, much less have any way to work out what could hurt him.

She's looking at me.

"Is something-?"

"Whatever unfortunate events conspire to prevent that sort of thing don't appear to apply when people are this desperate. It's something that I never managed to understand, how this Earth could have so much highly advanced technology and yet use it so little."

She nods. "I remember that talk you gave. So, what, Mannheim beat the special interests?"

"Could be. Or they actually want this to succeed because there won't be a civilisation for them to run from the shadows unless things change."

He did say that he didn't mind a little change. But once this becomes part of the new normal anywhere, then it won't be possible to dislodge it. Even if they embargo Greece completely… Greece won't need to import anything.

It's not true post-scarcity, due to the throughput limits and the fact that most manufacturing is still better done with dedicated machines and operators. But it's starting to look a little more like that than what we had before.

"How's the rest of the world?"

"China's pretty interesting. Who knew that a civilisation of a billion people could coast on pure inertia like that?"

"Shouldn't their currency have collapsed?"

"It did, but they didn't notice. Currency collapses hurt the middle class. China… Does have a middle class, but it's relatively small. They've… Basically put as many people as they can on public works programs-. Did you know that the Chinese construction industry is massively corrupt?"

"It doesn't surprise me."

"And I don't mean a few back-handers to get a contract corrupt. I mean full-on Victorian 'this tunnel was supposed to have five layers of brick, it's got half of one and now it's collapsed and killed hundreds of people' corrupt. There's plenty of work to do fixing it and just about enough transportation and food production to prevent mass starvation. Good old communist community spirit."

"How can they afford that?"

"Who needs currency when you have commissars?"

She frowns. "And people are just.. accepting that?"

I shrug. "There's no locus for opposition. With the Communist Party being the only political party and having representatives on the board of every company of any size, there's no avenue for counterargument. Everyone's pretty much trying to keep things as normal as possible, doing their best to follow whatever orders there are… The fact that all the deaths have left holes in the political structure doesn't matter. If someone tried that in America, they'd be shot. In China, it-." Hm. "What do you know about the Battle of Kursk?"

"It was a battle in World War Two.. between the Nazis and the Soviet Union. But that's about all."

"The Russians built huge earthworks to defend the city, with almost the entire population of the city joining in with the digging. The Chinese are doing that for the entire country until someone has a better idea, or until they've got a functioning country. Probably… Reorganise the national government while regional governments keep everyone too tired to complain, then… Issue a new currency?"

"I haven't really kept up… What's America doing?"

"Barter, digital currency or Justice League tokens. The government tried printing more dollars while they were already in a period of hyperinflation, then tried to pass a law to force businesses to accept the dollar." I shake my head. "We were this close-" I hold up my right hand with thumb and forefinger close together. "-to seeing the return of state nullification, and it looks like a couple might reinstate precious metal currency. Honestly, they're probably going to have to knock a couple of zeroes off the dollar too when things settle down."

"No public works programs?"

"Americans won't tolerate being treated in the way that the Chinese expect to be treated. The Federal Government can't pay for a public works program with anything that anyone who could supply one would take. If they had any sense they'd butt out and let the American people fix things from the ground up."

"And how's… Ah, England doing?"

"The British government is too incompetent to do as much damage as the US government is. And as a result, small scale solutions are sort of emerging. They've turned a lot of areas of grassland into allotments, put farms back into production now that all of the fallowing and tree subsidies have vanished. Thanks to that and my portals the country can just about feed itself, though there are a lot fewer cars on the roads."

LexCorp managed to pull an ultra-density battery out of its collective bottom, which combined with the improved power generation systems most advanced countries have been setting up means that cost-effective long-range electric vehicles are now a reality. The Justice League is paying for a lot of them for goods transportation with League-currency, which… Means that LexCorp is the most stable financial concern on the planet. But… That's definitely a problem for another day.

"What about the rest of Europe?"

"Where do I start?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
06:53 GMT

Aaah-hhhaaa-haaa-aaaaah…

"…soul futures, which naturally requires an extensive network of information brokers for the participants to predict market fluctuations."

First came the First, cast beyond God's sight.

Huuh. Ah-aaaaah…

Then came the Second and Third, to counterbalance the First.

No-no… Come on. Focus.

Then came the Lightbringer, seeking escape and knowledge. He was a part of Creation, and brought Creation with him.

I try… Pushing what Mammon told me from my mind, but it's… It's not working. It's worming into my soul. It's not the Anti-Life, it's…

It's personal.

From the bridge emerged Demonkind, forever apart from and yet a part of Creation.

I try focusing on my surroundings. This part of the… Exchange, is more modern than most of Hell. A bit… Eighties stock exchange, simple computer screens and chunky mobile telephones. Demons in shirts cluster in various places, and the screens are showing… Images and bar charts that don't… Don't mean much to me.

The demons are… Cooperating. I don't see any sign that they actually like each other, but files and minor coins are being exchanged… Peacefully. Neither party is reluctant. And I can see demons who are clearly female and not succubae, which is interesting. Male and female alike look like thinner versions of Blathoxi, but… Hungrier.

The Nature of Demonkind is not the Nature of Mankind, for Mankind is part of Creation and Demonkind is apart from Creation.

It's like a… Like something's pushing my soul away from the world. And if I had to guess why… My goal is to unify all peoples in a perfect society, even though I know that is impossible. But here the Source itself is telling me to take a hike! Why?

Nggh.

Blathoxi regards me curiously. Yes, regardless of my spiritual defences he's almost certainly picking up on the fact that something is wrong with me.

"What… Ah, what's the payout? How are their investments realised?"

"If the investor owns an asset when the debtor exits the market, then their assets pass to the investor."

"They take their soul."

Blathoxi rolls his eyes. "By default, a standard position involves all assets, material and immaterial. Naturally, taking possession of worldly goods has the benefit of reducing energy wastage in satisfying future infernal public offerings, but we also have a sales department."

H-rg-uh.

It nearly fits. Nearly. There shouldn't be anything eldritch about providing a service, but it… Still…

"I'm… I'm sorry, I thought that you answered requests using magic. Are you saying that you buy solutions to requests using previously acquired assets?"

"Lord Mammon encourages us to multi-vector product delivery. So long as the requested service is rendered, it hardly matters how."

"Can external parties make investments?"

"Certainly. This is a free market, after all."

"And can the initial party buy their…" Ah, I can't come up with the investor-speak word. "Their soul back?"

"Again, certainly. It's actually quite common with our senior clients."

"Cult-leaders offer sacrifices?"

"Among other techniques. While the seller sets the price, souls which acquire… Certain resonances, accumulate value. It may well be in an investor's long-term interest to liquidate their position and re-enter the market at a later stage."

"And… If a cult-leader buys himself out of all outstanding contracts and then dies..?"

"We do have a sin-eating department. It's a specialist market, since it doesn't help with people who want to reach the Silver City."

"So cult-leaders wound end up here anyway."

"Not here. Having purchased their own stock the Exchange has no hold on them. Usually they would end up in Err, and thus are no longer our proper concern."

"So… If a Hindu magician wanted to ensure a more advantageous reincarnation…"

"I believe that you understand the service."

"And what do the Hindu gods think of that?"

"We haven't had any complaints so far. It only allows them to escape the consequences of their vices. It does not help them achieve nirvana." He stops, smiling faintly. "In fact, I rather suspect that it works against it."

"Do such mortals ever come here?"

"Only very occasionally. Quite a collectors item."

It's… So… Logical. But the rest…

"I don't suppose that we can offer you a deal of some sort, can we?"

"My soul goes to the Source when I die. I wouldn't want to cheat you."

"We do broker other sorts of deal, Mister Grayven. We can acquire almost anything."

I raise my eyebrows. "The bones of my grandfather?"

"For a fee, we could investigate."

"My grandfather is on the Source Wall. And he was alive when he went on there."

"For a large fee, we could investigate."

"I appreciate the offer, but I have nearly everything I want, and what's left I'll get from the First."

"That would be out of character for him."

"We have an agreement, and everything that you and Mammon… And my general demonology reading says is that the letter of the agreement is binding. If the First wants to pay the penalty on a contract solemnised with his own magic… Sure, he could, but I just don't see how it's worth it. I don't think I've angered him enough."

"Then the gain will be in some other area of his operations."

I shrug. "Sure, I assumed that. But that's the point of capitalism, isn't it? A series of voluntary exchanges where each gains something they value more than what they give up?"

He nods. "We use that phrase extensively in our advertising literature and sales spiels."

"Come on now. Everyone knows that you shouldn't trust advertisements." Or demons. "That's barely even lying. I-."

I look around as a door slams open and a demon in a state of some distress rushes in, a bundle of paper clutched in one hand. He heads over to a cluster of investors and… Starts talking. We're too far away for me to easily hear-.

Numbers on the screens start to move a lot.

"Excuse me, Mister Grayven. We've finished our tour, and I believe this needs my personal attention. One of my aides can show you out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:23 GMT

I'm sure this mountain wasn't here before.

Pandemonia is the place of residence for those demonic rulers who don't have a pressing reason to be somewhere else. And it's usually a secondary place of residence for those who do. Neron has a palace here, but prefers to spend time in Gull because…

I don't know. Probably because no one cares about him incinerating plebs but if he tried that around here then someone in his weight class might get antagonised. It's supposed to all be palaces tailored to the demonic potentate in question. The mountain is new.

Puts me in mind of the time I went down Cadair Idris with Dad. It's clearly not had paths cut in it for most of the slope, and I'm scrambling up scree with a rather long drop if I miss my footing. I mean, I'm not a squishy human any longer and I'd probably walk away with more damage to my pride than anything else, but it's still… Quite a drop.

And over the… Huh. Yes, like Cadair Idris there is an actual path carved into it once you get high enough. Not a direct path, possibly to give the walker time to appreciate the view.

In this case, the view of everyone else's palaces, far below.

They escorted me out of the exchange pretty quickly, and I wasn't able to spot what they were worried about. Or.. excited about. I'm still in contact with Challenger Mountain so if there'd been a major incident then Jean would have notified me. I can only assume that it's some sort of trading bubble thing.

I mean, it's not going to be that, but with my only avenue of investigation being to grab and assimilate and my deal with the First only okaying me for self defence or 'disrespecting the First', I don't really have another avenue to follow up.

It is a pretty nice mountain. You can't hear the screams from up here, or really see the racks of soulbound skin they like to use as awnings as anything other than a blob of colour.

This place has really got to go.

I spot the First's porcelain-white concubine doll things before I see the man himself. The two closest to the edge of his leisure… Gazebo perched on the mountaintop are fanning him with fans made of some sort of large feather. A little closer and I see two more massaging him while another feeds him peeled grapes. He's in his pink-skinned bodybuilder shape, and gives the impression of being completely at ease.

"Grayven." He doesn't look up. I'm not even sure that he opens his eyes. "Finished already?"

"No, oh First." A sex mannequin walks over with a drinks tray and silently offers one to me. I give her a small smile and a shake of my head. "I've hit a bit of a roadblock, and I think I need to learn more about Masak Mavdil in order to progress."

He grunts quietly as they work the muscles of his right shoulder.

"What for?"

"While I can complete a report for you without visiting it, I… I'm increasingly coming to believe that some of Hell's fundamental issues stem from it not connecting to the universe. And I think I need to get a feel for the place in order to… Well, probably to plot around it."

"It's got angels in it."

"Yes?"

"Pointless, annoying things. Every time I see one it puts me in a bad mood."

"But… Surely they're removed from God's sight there, and that fills them with horrible agony?"

"Only thing that makes it tolerable."

The massequins back up a step, and he levers himself into a sitting position, looking at me for the first time.

"So apart from that, what insights have you gotten from this place?"

He looks away as one of his toys begins oiling his right arm.

"It appears that demons have a high time-preference."

"They're short-sighted lackwits. I had spotted that."

"It's not just that. Management is lacking. There's no avenue for advancement, and they focus more effort on attacking rivals real or imagined than actually improving Hell. I assume that you don't want me to just suggest that you do a lot more work?"

He raises his left eyebrow and gives me a decidedly unimpressed look.

"I was going to suggest some sort of status thing. If you set in place some sort of system for determining which region had the best results in a given year and then assign status to their ruler based on that. You'd need to hold a feast or two a year and seat them in that order. The winner eats with you, the loser gets a plate of slime."

That gets a small smile.

"So they vie for your favour and win by achievement, rather than fighting for status both against each other and their more ambitious subordinates. I find superiors stamping on capable minions quite frustrating. There are dozens of human countries where insecure rulers treated their ministers and generals like that, and every single one does worse than its neighbours with actual rules and laws."

His serfs continue to oil the First as he considers my words.

"And how would you have me judge between them? I don't want to spend all of my time actually watching those morons."

"I suggest automating a process for detecting shifts in Hell's magic field. Or you could literally count soul income. Ultimately, it doesn't matter, as long as you're upfront about it. And if you don't want to-" Do your job. "-take on extra work, it needs to be something that either can be automated, or where you can leave it to someone who can be trusted not to-."

"Heh." He smiles at me. "'Trusted'."

"Not to do a bad job or lie. Not 'trusted' in the sense of generally being honest, 'trusted' in the sense of enjoying having powerful demons unable to hurt them and being afraid of his reports. Or of being so obsessed with precision that it wouldn't occur to them to lie. Or some sort of machine."

"I couldn't trust the Renderers to make one."

"The Renderers did try to kill a man who was making demonic machinery. He could probably build something, and he'd be too terrified of you to not do exactly what you asked."

The First frowns. "And of course this is the first I'm hearing about it. Is there anything about this man I might find amusing?"

"John Constantine got him killed. Twice."

"Hah!" He smiles as they finish up oiling his legs. "He thought they were friends, didn't he?"

"That he died is how you tell. Of course… If we're going to Masak Mavdil, it occurs to me that angels are generally known for honesty and precision."

"No."

"Compelling them to aid in improving Hell would be an ironic punishment, oh First."

The gynoids back away as the loincloth-clad First checks their work. With a nod, he approves.

"Even if they were the best option, it wouldn't be worth dealing with them. I'd rather destroy the whole system."

I nod. "As you will. Will you be accompanying me?"

"Yes. I've never seen how gods react to it. I don't often get to see genuinely new things."

"And how-?"

He looks upwards and the mountain bends, the land below us wheeling and twisting until-. A desolate plain and a grim fortress appears… Next to us.

I'm just about able to prevent myself vomiting from travel sickness.

"There." He casually steps off the mountain and onto the plain. "Let me show you Hell's birthplace."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2010
10:02 GMT -5

Artemis frowns at her phone, currently showing a compendium of 2nd Edition rules and errata. I've been making an effort to get copies of old White Dwarf and Citadel Journal as well as the actual 2nd Edition rulebook, but given that they predate modern computer-controlled printing it's surprisingly difficult to find a lot of them. I suppose I could just offer to pay Games Workshop to run them off for me, but it's…

"I don't think that's legal."

I'm sort of enjoying hunting them down.

"What isn't?"

"This says that Vortex Grenades are 'Rare-Two'." She looks up, turning the phone around so that I can see the entry. "You can only take two in your army. So, the warp jump thing doesn't work."

"I know." I nod. "The wargear rarity restriction was added…" When was it? "Hm, I don't actually remember. White Dwarf two hundred and something. The same one where they clarified what the restriction on multiple force fields meant." I shrug. "Less than half of the life of the edition. I built the army assuming that it didn't apply, because otherwise you only get-" I nod. "-two techmarines."

"And warp jumps don't scatter if you roll 'hit' anyway, so the teleport homer doesn't do anything."

I nod. "I went through to find mistakes in the Battle Bible, and there's a lot. Just in the wargear section they miss the fact that bionic arms increase strength for throwing grenades and not just hand to hand combat, that the Talon of Horus has a stormbolter attached to it and it gets the to-hit penalty rule for jump packs backwards."

She turns the phone back towards her, scrolling though the pages until she gets to the jump pack entry.

"Ah, 'models using Jump Packs do not receive the minus one to hit penalty for firing at a fast-moving target'."

I pick up a copy of the Wargear book and turn to page 71 before passing it to her. "It should be 'Troops using jump packs leap in nice slow, predictable curves so models firing at them do not count the minus one to hit penalty for firing at a target moving ten inches or faster.'. Which makes more sense: why would making a jump movement make you better at shooting fast moving targets? And it's not clear what happens when they move twenty inches or more, which should give a minus two penalty, and all of the 'common' wargear items should just be regular equipment, and they made some pieces of wargear limited to a particular character when originally anyone of the right species could use them."

"Huh. So why haven't you just fixed it?"

"Because I'd be the only person who knew my version of the rules. If I was actually having a game with someone we'd have to discuss which version we were using, and 'the original rulebook' or 'the battle bible' is a lot quicker than me having to explain my personal fixes. The whole point for me was just to have this army."

"But you could."

I hold out my right hand and lift up my copy of Codex: Eldar. "The eldar have plenty of tanks in the larger scale game, and a third party company called Armorcast did larger versions for Warhammer Forty Thousand, but I never saw the rules for them. Games Workshop didn't add eldar tanks into the game until the end of Second Edition, and they didn't make a model for their troop transport until Third Edition. The model in the company army had a turret made from a plastic spoon."

Her shoulders slump a little. "I don't mind learning the game, but I'm not that into it. If it's got that many problems how come you like it so much?"

I smile, looking directly at her. "Love is not a rational thing. It is quite possible to love a thing despite its faults while.. still being aware of those faults. Still finding those faults.. irritating, sometimes, but not prioritising that irritation over the love."

Ah…

"In the interests of clarity, you want me to assemble the rules as I prefer them in one place and give that to you?"

"Ah." She seems distracted for a moment. Not sure why. "Or I… Guess you could just learn chess."

"European Chess or Chinese Chess-? No, it doesn't matter."

Ring?

Hm? What is it, sport?

With all this information, you can handle the formatting, right?

Sure? Want me to pick up contemporaneous artwork to fill in the gaps too?

Yes. I'm not actually all that keen on John Blanche, a lot of his work just looks messy to me.

You do know I can hear your thoughts, right sport?

Okay. Hit it.

Orange lines flick out, enveloping Codex: Eldar and all of the material relating to eldar. The Citadel Journal with the expanded Harlequins list and psychic powers, the vehicle cards and vehicle upgrades…

And a new and slightly thicker copy of Codex: Eldar lands on the table.

And done.

I pick it up and flick through. Weapons? Yes, the ring added the pulse laser, and the support section of the army list now includes grav-tanks. And Mimes and Master Mimes are listed with the Harlequins. Oh, and the art section now has a copy of that rather nice diorama of the knight and the chaplain, a nice cover for the fact that eldar knights literally never got a model. Good work, ring.

You're welcome. It's nice to be appreciated.

"Hey."

I hold it out to her. "It's turned out well. I'll do the main rulebook next-."

"No, about-. Faults."

"Yes? As far as I remember Codex: Eldar was fairly well written-."

"No, I mean-. I think.. this is something I should just say to you. It's about Indigo."

"What about it?" She's looking directly at me. "Were you not interested in the eldar?"

"No. That. You call her 'it'."

I nod. "Yes."

"How come? I mean, it's.. pretty rude."

"Because that's what it is. You wouldn't call a statue of a woman 'she', would you?"

She leans back slightly. "Whaw, huh. So, what, you don't think Red Tornado is a person either?"

I blink. "No, Red Tornado is a person. And his-." Ah. "I think I see the problem."

"I'm…" She shakes her head. "Not sure you do."

Me neither.

"Indigo is a gynoid, a machine built in the likeness of a woman. It isn't a woman. It doesn't have all of the biological impulses that come with being human, adult, or female. Having three fifths of its brain coming from a gynoid programmed to mimic them means that it can fake it reasonably well, like a chatbot. It's… Sentient, not sapient. It has no real internal life. Red Tornado does."

Artemis frowns. "Are you..? Sure? She seemed like a person to me."

"The ring lets me scan to detect certain emotions. Red Tornado has them. They're pretty weak, but they're there, because he was programmed to observe, mimic and internalise, just like you and I were. Indigo wasn't. It was programmed to obey a list. I'm not trying to insult it. It's making itself useful. But it's not a person."

She thinks about that for a moment, eventually giving me a small nod. "Could she..? Become..? A person?"

"I hope not. I wasn't joking about not understanding her Coluan components. If it turns out that they're that flexible, then… I've got no idea what she might be capable of, or why she might decide to do it. As I said, you can't actually predict her actions based on the fact she looks like a human woman when she isn't one."

Artemis looks concerned. Why is-? Ah!

"It's okay if you're not interested in eldar. I was going to update all of the codices anyway. Where would you like to start?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:41 GMT

"At once, master!"

The First rolls his eyes in response to the obsequiousness of the crab-like demon serving as the guard in this part of Masak Mavdil. She scuttles over to a cage-style elevator and pulls a lever, which causes the door to open. She then bows further, gesturing for us to enter.

"Two to go down!"

I follow the First into the elevator, his gaze completely level, not looking around at all at the shaft clearly visible through the bars around us. Once inside he turns around to face the entrance, gaze still level and arms folded across his chest.

"Closing the door!"

He remains exactly like that as the door closes and our descent begins, waiting until the crab-demon is out of sight before allowing his expression to morph into a grimace.

"Pathetic."

"The obsequiousness? The demon just wanted to please you."

"How hard is it to open an elevator door without making a song-and-dance about it?"

"You could just have said 'thank you'. If the demon knew that you were satisfied with the service, they would probably have shut up. You're kind of a big deal around here."

"Conquest-god, what do you think my aim around here is?"

"Ah..? Convince God that free will in general and humans in particular were dreadful mistakes?"

"And then what?"

"Go back to enjoying a flawless universe as an end in itself."

"But I can't, can I? I've seen the imperfection, the corruptibility of existence and of God. I can't be who I was before that ever again. Even if that all happened, I wouldn't be able to enjoy it."

"But surely if you knew that the alternative was worse and you'd made it better, been proven right, that's not a bad thing?"

"What do I look like?"

"A Greek god."

"And what are the Greeks?"

"Humans?"

"I didn't look like this. Back then. And then I was beyond God's sight by His command."

Ah.

"And now it's part of you and you're stuck as an ungodly thing. It's changed your nature. You can't be who you were."

"Can't be, can't want to be. The thing I want the most would be the worst thing to happen because it would even spoil the memories."

I nod sympathetically. "If you were anyone else, I'd offer you a hug."

"If I was anyone else it wouldn't come up."

But then…

"So what's the point of this for you? It's not-. 'If I can't be happy, I'll make everyone else miserable', is it? Because…"

"There are things I like. There are things I like doing. It's all beneath me, you're all beneath me, but pulling the wings off flies can be surprisingly cathartic."

"My father once defined evil as power backed by force-."

"Unusually concise for Darkseid."

I shake my head. "It was a while ago, I may have forgotten something. You know him?"

"He came here once, too. Had that streak of piss Desaad with him."

"And you allowed him?"

"I'm allowing you."

"I have a pact which requires me to help you. I doubt that he did."

"No, but I do find that Anti-Life Equation of his amusing."

"You heard it, then?"

He turns his head slightly towards me, sneering. "I was there when the universe was created. Did you really think some muttered words would do anything to me?"

"No, but it's nice to have it confirmed."

Mother Box?

Ping.

Well I doubt that he'd have written it down. Oh, and about the other thing?

Ping.

Alright. Let me know if that changes.

"Have you studied this place much yourself?"

"No. I took Lucifer down here once, in the hope that he'd either die or become less smug. A failure on both counts."

"What did he want?"

"He was trying to work out how to give humans free will."

Huh? "I.. thought that was what-."

"It was. But apparently that wasn't good enough for him. He seemed to think that God had gone back on the original concept or something, and wanted to do something so that God wouldn't be able to impose order on Creation."

"Learn anything useful?"

"I learned that I hate Lucifer slightly more than everything else. Smug bastard was laughing when he left."

"Why?"

"Because it proved that God wasn't omnipotent, and so could be escaped. As if that's anything to be happy about."

The lift comes to a rest at the bottom of its shaft, but the First makes no move to open the door.

"One of his skills is manipulating power. It's more or less what he was made for. And he still couldn't handle the stuff we collect here."

"Kaahuite, yes, I've heard of it."

The doors in front of us open and he walks out, arms still folded across his chest. I give him a moment and then follow him, the doors closing and the lift rising the moment I'm out.

"I admit that I'm a little curious about what your reaction will be."

"Oh?"

I look around. Looks like a castle storeroom, if a storeroom had supports made of dark grey rock rather than wood. And didn't store anything… Other than tiny black stalagmites.

I stumble a step.

Wu..?

"I was trying to work out how to kill you and get rid of that fucking sword that fucking succubus made out of my 'brothers'. But then I heard you say that your soul went to the 'Source' however you died, and I actually got curious."

I-. He bends down and snaps a stalagmite off the ground.

"What happens if you get killed with one of these? Let's find out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:45 GMT

I… I draw my daiklave and the Sword of the Fallen. I'm not… Firing on all cylinders at the moment.

"You didn't think this place made me weaker, did you?"

"It was a-." My vision wavers like a heat haze. "A consideration. But I remember that… You can't handle pain. Powerful, but a coward."

He rolls the little fragment of kaahuite between his fingers.

"And that should bother me why?"

"The Sword of the Fallen-."

He snorts. "Is that what you called it? Really?"

I don't-. It's like there's this feel that I… Can't.

"I wonder what she could make out of you. She-." Focus "Did have access to your body after she ran you through, didn't she?"

I think it's time to call in a marker. Mother Box, contact Kanto.

Ping.

Oh. Okay, just work on it.

Pooooong.

Oh.

The First walks over to one of the support pillars and picks up a… Crowbar? Then he swings it-.

The support pillar is pulverised.

"Some very disturbing things live down here. The demons call them abominations. At one time, I thought they might be like me. But, no. Another disappointment."

"Is this all this is about?"

"I can't find the whore, thanks to Constantine. He'll get his eventually, now the other two aren't around to fight me for him. You took it off Ishmael Gregor, didn't you."

"Yes."

"When I found out, I had a word with his sponsors. According to them, Satanus was the one who supplied it to him."

"And yet… He's fine. Losing your touch, oh First?"

"Do I look like someone who belongs in Purgatory?"

He walks over to another pillar, crowbar at the ready.

"So… You can't get in. You need him to come out if you want to take a swing at him."

"'Colin Thornton'. You told someone what he's been up to, and he knows it. Which means that he's... Heh." He shakes his head, chuckling. "He thinks he needs to kill me immediately. Me! As if I haven't seen off more demon lords than his mother's sucked cocks."

This time he doesn't bother with the crowbar and just punches through the pillar. A fragment of rock comes at-.

A fragment of rock bounces off my armour because I'm too slow to parry it.

Need to fix that.

"Of course, if he doesn't, then I can just take a walk into his place of business on Earth and rip him in half. He is only half-demon. Like your kids."

The First smiles cruelly.

"It would be tidiest if I kill them too. And copy whatever their mother did to make them proper demons. Don't worry though, I'm not killing the horse. I wouldn't want her down here even if I could get her."

Paternal Responsibility

I walk towards him, swords at the ready.

"Oh?" He adopts a stance. "Yes, fight me. I'm only a thousand times stronger than you, standing in the place where I was remade. This should be good for a laugh."

"Yes, but you're still an abject coward, aren't you? I just need to ding you once with anything that actually hurts you."

His smile widens.

"I do hope you're not relying on that. I don't feel pain in this form."

Well, bother. On the other hand…

Sinestro? Agony matrix. I've finally found someone who deserves it.

No trouble at all, Lantern Grayven. But wouldn't it be better to wait until he is closer?

I'm far too unsteady on my feet to take the chance. If it even works on him. Right. Another step forward-.

The lift smashes into the ground behind me.

Ah.. great. I half-turn-.

"What is-" One of Simpson's robots has leapt onto him and grabbed onto his shoulders with its leg-claws while its forearm blades frantically try stabbing the First's face. "-this?"

I try spotting any others, but my vision actually goes black for a moment and my legs feel like they could give out at any moment. Settles the question of whether this stuff is good for New Gods, and also makes me a good deal more sympathetic to kryptonite-exposed kryptonians.

Or… Wait. I didn't feel at all odd when Rosacarnis showed me her little knife. The amount? Or my uncertainty? Or both?

Ugh. I-.

Sword up!

The robot strikes my daiklave and is sliced in two from the force of the First's throw, the halves banging off my shoulders hard enough to hurt. Yeah, he's… I don't know about a thousand times, but he's stronger than me when I'm feeling well.

The First looks mildly puzzled. "John's friend's work. Alright, who else is-?"

Bang!

There's a very brief flare of golden fire against the First's chest.

Bang!

And another, and the First is looking up towards the ceiling. Another robot, carrying an ornate bolt-action rifle.

Bang!

This time the First blocks the shot with his crowbar. It's got his attention, at least. I activate my aero-discs and float towards him as silently as possible as he pulls his right arm back and throws, the crowbar hitting the robot in the neck with enough force to make it explode.

I swing my daiklave at his left shoulder and he catches my right wrist one-handed without looking around, and tears my hand off.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:48 GMT

AAAHHfuckingfuckfuck!

Blood spurts from my stump, splattering three times across the First's face as my heart pumps it out before my armour clamps down.

Agony matrix!

"What's that supposed to-?"

Dual Moral Standard

"FFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!"

Okay. Okay. Looks like I can work through this… Ungodly aura thing if I use my New God powers. But is that infecting me faster, or-?

The First falls to the ground, frantically scrabbling to get away from me.

Not feeling too great myself.

"Nice one, Gray." Another robot drops down from the ceiling, Simpson's white-pink aura shining out of its eyes. "How long's he down f-?"

Shield.

A lump of kaahuite-laden stone hits my shield and cracks it, sending me flying backwards until I slam into a pillar! The First.. threw it from a prone position discus-style, and he was still able to get enough force into it to-. He's actually shivering with fear, but that doesn't mean that he's physically weak.

"He isn't. Agony matrixes hurt, they don't cause damage."

"Gotcha!"

The Simpson-robot darts out of the cover it dived into when the First made his throw -good reactions- and scurries over to where the robot with the gun fell. He picks up the gun and ducks into cover as the First hurls a handful of kaahuite chips his way. They smash into the walls and pillars like railgun flechettes, tearing gouges in the brick!

"Fuck me!"

He ducks out of cover and fires back, hitting the First in the left eye. There's the expected gout of gold fire, but the First doesn't seem all that bothered by it.

"We're in Masak Mavdil! You're using a weapon that conjures holy fire in a place definitionally removed from God's-!"

The First throws again, but I spotted it in time to try evading. The rock hits my shield off-centre, breaking the shield and causing a-.

I throw up in my mouth -ugh- and then frantically spit it out.

Causing my stump to flare in pain!

"Oh yeah. John said-" He fires again, this time hitting-. The First manages to grab a handful of kaahuite and used that to block the shot. No golden flare. "-he killed him with holy water one time, so I thought it would work."

"Please tell me that's not all you've got."

"I thought you had-" He fires again, hitting the First right up his nostril. That makes him splutter, but again, no real injury. "-Elle's Wonder Sword."

"It's a short sword and I doubt that he'll lie there while I stab him. If it even works down here."

On the other hand, the First's pretty afraid right now. I use that to fabricate a physical agony matrix which won't do a thing in the hands of anyone who isn't a New God, but I doubt that Father told him that.

Something crashes into the lift, and Stercorax… Steps out of the wreckage, followed by a squad of Satanus's cyborgs who rappel down from above. Stercorax… The place where I cut has been patched over by the same metal as the cyborgs' mechanical parts, and he-.

"YOU!"

The First come up to a crouch, ignoring the putrid green bolts of plasma the cyborgs are shooting him with. Looks like his anger has overcome his fear.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE INVULNERABLE TO ME!?"

Stercorax dashes-. "Stercorax!"

He glances towards me and I throw him the agony matrix. He catches it and accelerates, the First's thrown stones hitting his chest and head and failing to even knock him back.

"Hit him with it!"

"No no!"

The First gets to his feet and runs, while I-.

Ugh.

I collapse to my knees.

"Don't worry! I can make you a new hand."

"Just get my-." I spot my severed hand about half a second before Stercorax stamps on it. I liked that hand. "It'll grow back in a couple of weeks."

New hand.

Certainly, Lantern.

"Do you actually have a plan?"

"Hit him until he dies."

Simpson, Satanus, Rosacarnis-. "Is Neron here too?"

"Him and his people are handling the guards. You know, if you give me the Sword-."

"Fuck off." Ugh. "Do you have a good way to get rid of kaahuite?"

"Tweezers? It's not really a problem for demons." Marvellous. "How about we hold his attention while you stab-?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW..!"

"Him?"

The floor in front of us ceases to exist, and Simpson and I scramble backwards as… A thing rises up from below.

"Yeah, that's… That's an abomination. If you were wondering."

Three heads twitching and spasming in agony, two sets of wings which I suspect were once pearly white flapping spasmodically, six arms reaching desperately for something, nails replaced with kaahuite talons, torsos merged and legs… stitched into one tail-like limb.

"No. That's a fist-wound in the chest, and it's down one set of wings. Gabriel. And I guess that the other two are Remiel and Duma."

"Yeah. Pretty good work, reall-."

The monster swoops towards us, talons raised!

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:51 GMT

Shield and sidestep with the aero-discs and slash with the Sword!

Simpson dives the other way, and the angel-abomination doesn't pick a direction, flying between us and flailing around with its claws. Two sets of talons tear through my construct barrier, and-. And are stopped by my armour, which is a pleasant change of pace. I nearly catch part of one of its wings with the Sword but one of its heads is focusing on me and the wing is jerked aside just in time.

The cyborg squad scatters, trying to keep away while not drawing its attention which strikes me as an eminently sensible decision. Simpson has a gash in his torso but appears otherwise undamaged as he puts a shot into its back from a prone position. The shot hits its… Torso-mass with the normal plume of golden fire, but the fire is immediately… Snuffed out? It looks like it's… Drawn inward, somehow. Into the kaahuite?

Is there an intelligent way to get out of this, or are we stuck brawling it out?

Unusually for John, after his fight with the First was over he hunted down the splattered remains of Gabriel's heart and put them… Alright not 'somewhere safe', but in a Tupperware tub in a shed he rented. The wings were in the same place. Since that was obviously terrible security Circe had his entire collection transferred to a secure vault protected by her somewhat more extensive range of defensive spells.

Sort of wish I'd brought them.

"YYYEEEEEAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH..!"

The air around its hands and wings and faces trembles as it squirms towards me, lashing out with all of its limbs. I back up, careful-.

Something drips from my nose-. My vision is blurring again, and my stump is seeping blood into my construct hand. It can just inflict harm, bypassing my resistances. And I'm not regenerating. I-.

One of its arms comes close to reaching me, and I ward it off with a slash of the Sword. Think!

Demons come from a combination of the universe and.. this place. Kaahuite doesn't bother them. This is three angels combined with the stuff. It's clearly suffering, but equally it has integrated the kaahuite to some degree. New God theology is a bit unclear as to whether the Source is omnipotent or not, though that belief is fairly common throughout the universe. So if this place is beyond God's sight, is that definitionally beyond, or is God just not looking? I mean, it's not just some sort of void, it's clearly actively interacting with things. And if it's a matter of choice or -in an equally valid interpretation of New God scripture- an automatic process, how would I make that connection?

Infect a New God with it and then kill them thank you brain.

The abomination bunches up its tail and opens its mouths-.

Simpson shoots it directly on one of its chest-seams and the fire is sucked away faster. It doesn't seem hurt but it hesitates for a moment, and I use that to fly further away.

"Hey!"

"How does that gun work?"

"That's an interesting-."

A wing-flap hits him and sends him flying across the room, minus his legs and trailing pink sparks.

"Fuck! Magic metal linked to-

He lands, bouncing once and sliding to a halt next to a cyborg fire team.

"-the target by the bullet!"

Three faces focus on me, tail undulating and claws scrabbling at the floor as it accelerates towards me.

"Toss it to me!"

"Fuck off!"

I fire a construct missile at the angel, but it just slaps it aside with a wing. I fire a second-.

It's visibly weaker.

"The First's coming back!"

"Swap, then!"

"YYYEEEEEAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH..!"

I wipe the blood from my eyes and take a purple healing ray out of sub… Space-. It doesn't come and I can't create one down here.

Fine.

Rome Wasn't Built In A Day

Urgh, yeah, there it is. Using my god-powers acts as a palliative while accelerating the progress.

I'll live.

Dart forward, target a wing that's slowed slightly as the angbomination swipes a trough in the floor and stab. Result? I severed the tip and-

"YYYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE..!"

My constructs blink out and my armour's tron lines dim and die. Marvellous. Mother Box, can you still Awaken people?

Ping.

Good.

"Any of you cyborgs want to go to God?" That gets me a few strange looks. "No, seriously, reunification with the-"

The angels press forward, making probing slashes with wings and claws as I'm forced to give ground. Why couldn't Chantinelle have made a spear or something?

"-Creator. Just takes a brief ritual."

Doesn't look like anyone's going for it, which is fair enough. Who was that guy in Pilgrim's Progress? False Hope?

"Oh good. Now he does something useful."

Ah, darn. Simpson is there, move a little and the calculate and throw!

The Sword flies through the air and punches through the angel-thing's torso section and out of the other side! Black… Sand? Pours out, though the creature itself doesn't seem-. No, one of the heads is having some sort of fit, but the other two have noticed that I've lost my weapon. In theory I could try to get it to run over the First but I don't fancy getting into melee range and I doubt that he'd have made all that noise if he was actually worried about them.

"Huh?"

"Yes I actually did it!" Back up back up lift dodge! "Now give me the gun!"

"Ah. Okay?"

The gun flies into the air and it's not going anywhere near me fly! Yes, yes-!

Something tears into my right foot.

No! AAow! Tether, grab it turn and stab it into the monstrosity's conjoined neck! A flare of gold fire, it.. gets sucked away…

But it doesn't vanish. The angel thing is in constant contact with it.

And its eyes are starting to clear.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:54 GMT

AH-! Still got its claws in my leg, and they're shaking like its trying to saw their way out!

"What?"

Construct clamp around its hand and pull-! Ahg-! Okay, free. At least the nails aren't barbed, I-. Suppose.

What I've learned: ring-empowered armour can block it, armour on its own can't and my New God flesh might as well be human meat for all the resistance it puts up.

"Huh." The First -who is now entirely naked and flapping as momentum dictates- walks a little closer, looking interested. "Alright, you get a stay of execution while I watch this."

"Thank you, oh First. I'm curious myself."

One of the cyborgs raises his gun and fires, the shot… Slowing and then stopping as it moves towards the First.

"I was created before matter. Did you really think these were hitting me because I couldn't stop them? Did you really think that putting that metal in yourself meant that I couldn't-"

The cyborg drops his gun, staring at his hands in shock as they leave his control.

"-do whatever I want with any soul in my domain? I didn't expect any better of Neron or the guards, but I at least thought that Rosacarnis was a little more intelligent than this."

The angel-thing… The kaahuite dust continues to pour out of its torso, its muscles are twitching… At this point I could probably grab the Sword off Simpson and put it out of its misery. Might just unmake them, or it might grant them incarnation as humans. But…

That fragment of the Source's power is interacting with the kaahuite. So it looks like not touching this place is a matter of choice and not capacity. Or rather, a default setting and not a rule, as the gun doesn't have morals or agency and so probably doesn't warrant direct personal intervention. So right now the Source is touching the kaahuite and pushing it out.

Ping.

It would have been convenient, but I wasn't expecting you to.

And of course the kaahuite… Or maybe the aura of this place not yet manifested as kaahuite, it's working on me. And… According to New God scripture, the supernatural abilities of the Elite like myself comes from the Source.

So in theory I can handle this link.

Marvellous.

I look down to see the First splitting his attention between the convulsing combo angel and the cyborg who shot at him, who he is currently forcing to pull his own right eyeball out by remote controlling his implants. He looks-. Sinestro?

…

Great, if I have to get him repaired again…

Orange ring.

Your command?

Keep an eye out for me.

Executing.

And I turn my attention inwards. I am Conquest and Direction, Domination and Betterment and that last one is not getting any resonance at all down here. Conquest… Uh, it's like Apokolips, battles without end or objective.

Wait.

That's good.

Direction? There's a little. Simpson said that Neron was up above us, and the First said that Rosacarnis was around. They're providing Direction now and here, but they're not providing Direction for their people. They are tyrants, not rulers, not leaders.

Gkh!

But Domination? Yes. The First reeks of it. A practical virtue shorn of the other things that would give it Meaning and Value. It connects him to every person and object here-.

"Are you up to something, Grayven?"

"Just wondering how blatantly breaking our pact was going for you."

"Bit of an itch. I'm not a demon, unlike my late and entirely unlamented 'brothers'. I'm not bound by the letter of my agreements."

"So there wasn't some clever clause that I missed?"

"No. But you're here now, so what did it get you?"

"And that thing with John's friend Brendan?"

He turns his head away from both the deflating angel and the blind cyborg. "You know what? I can torture an angel any time."

But he didn't get Brendan's soul. So the mechanism that let him take Brendan's soul must have required something. Then he.. could have just taken his soul whenever he felt like, but left it to the particular date he did for the sake of poetry. And then he was in too much pain from the holy water, so the spell mechanism just completed without his input and Brendan's soul was free. Check that theory later.

This is what I am, the part of the grand divine design that is Conquest. This is how I relate to everything around here. And the pushing away, the negation and the pain from rejecting the design is…

Yes.

Thesis and antithesis.

And forming a bridge between the two.

"Oh."

Oof! The ceiling jumps down and smashes me to the floor!

Threat detected.

Thanks.

The First strolls over to me. "It looked like you were having some sort of personal revelation there, but I don't really care. Say something nice to father for-."

1.1 Thou Shalt Not.

The combination angel is wreathed in golden fire, kaahuite implants wriggling out of its flesh and falling to the floor. One of its hands reaches up and pulls the gun out of the wound where I shoved it, the hole closing over after a brief plume of golden fire.

The First turns back to them, incensed and jabbing with his right forefinger.

"No FUCK you, this is MY place!"

The last of the kaahuite falls to the ground and its wounds seal themselves.

1.2 Yes, it is. But We are not.

Okay, I think I could sneak up on him with-.

With-.

I turn my head just in time to vomit up the black yuck that feels like it's coming from every part of my body.

"John seemed to think you were actually a threat to me, Gabriel. I think you're still a worthless cunt who turned his back on God to fuck a succubus. So give me a better fight than my brothers did and maybe-. Huuh."

He looks down to where the blades of the Sword of the Fallen are poking through his chest.

"Fucking… Again?"

He collapses, a smug-looking Simpson standing on legs taken from a cyborg standing behind him.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 22
28th March 2013
09:54 GMT

"Hah! Rip my legs off, you-!"

The First snarls and kicks, shattering Simpson's new legs and sending him crashing to the floor.

"Chantinelle-!" His left hand moves to the blade-tips poking through his chest while his right scrabbles across his back. "Stuck me-!" He pushes the blade backwards and manages to get his fingertips onto the grip. "Through the heart-!"

Have I finished being sick?

…

Looks like I have. And up and walk over to the First, left hand on his shoulder and right hand on the hilt.

He stops moving.

"Fuck."

"See, normally I'd just use this position to negotiate a better deal. But…" I let out an audible sigh. "You're not a demon and you're not bound to your sworn pacts. And.. I.. don't actually know the ritual Chantinelle used to keep Gabriel's heart in one piece."

"H-."

The First spits out a blob of blood. Pierced his lung, then.

"How?"

"The Source was humouring you." I look up at the angels. "Unless you've got any input you want to share?"

2.1 We wish merely to remind him of God's love for all of his creations.

"You weren't there! You don't know!" The angel drifts closer, wings outstretched. "He doesn't give a shit about any of us!"

2.2 It is not now nor has it ever been our place to instruct the Most High.

He lays one hand on each of the First's shoulders, another on the wound in his chest and another on his forehead.

Crack!

I look to its left, where its other hands have just bent the metal into a circle, the wooden parts flying off in splinters.

The First sees it too. "That won't work! It can't! That just makes it worse."

2.3 Perhaps if we refreshed your memories, you would not be quite so malevolent.

A faint golden glow and the metal of the gun is shaped into a… Torc? Which the angel places lightly on the First's trembling head. He then locks up and I have to move the Sword in order to avoid doing further damage. The angel regards him for a moment and then nods.

2.4 That will be sufficient. You may remove the blade.

"Ta!"

The Sword vanishes from my hand and the First's torso and I back up, agony matrix construct reforming in my hand.

Sinestro, are you back with me?

Indeed. You appear to have coped without me.

Yes, but without your commentary it isn't anything like as much fun.

The First isn't moving. He's just sitting there… Drooling to himself. The angel takes hold of him and props him up against one of the supports, two hands glowing golden as they mend his wounds.

"Gabriel… Whichever of you I'm talking to. What did you do to him?"

2.5 He has clearly been broken by his separation from the Most High. This will remind him why he should work for salvation.

Or drive him mad.

"Listen, I was trying to get hold of an object that was in his possession. Do you know where it is?"

2.6 Your effort to redeem the siblings of your children is praiseworthy. However, we feel that you have not yet completed your end of the bargain.

"True, so… I just need to hand my report over to whoever's in control of Hell at the end of the month, and it's mine?"

2.7 That is correct. We are interested to see how you believe that we may more effectively redeem the souls bound here.

All that work…

2.8 Was that not the direction which you had taken your study? The First's requirements could have been met in that way.

"I can.. pivot it. Do you need me for anything?"

2.9 We will find you should we need you.

"Great." I turn away from them. "Simpson."

"Funny thing." Simpson finishes de-legging another cyborg, then hops to his feet. "The First might not be a demon, but I am. We had a deal, and this?" He waggles the Sword. "Is mine now."

I breathe in. I relax my muscles and patch up my armour. And then I stretch a bit.

"Mister Simpson."

"You can't just take it."

"That's an interesting claim because I don't remember saying perman-."

A circle of green fire swirls into being, turning into the mouth of a tunnel down which Neron and Rosacarnis stroll arm in arm. And just behind them, the Demon Constantine.

Neron grins fiercely. "Where's the First's body? I want to spit on.. it."

He sees the angel, and suddenly isn't quite so cheerful.

2.10 The First is being rehabilitated. No further violence is necessary.

Neron's eyes narrow. "Simpson. The sword."

Next to him there's a burst of light, clouds roiling away from the humanoid figure at the centre, who strides forth at once. Satanus nods to.. one of his cyborgs who was speaking on a communication device built into their right arm.

"Did someone mention the Sword?" He looks around and sees it in Simpson's grip. "I think I should take that. I have been sponsoring Simpson, after all."

Behind them, Constantine grins and takes out a cigarette.

Neron grimaces. "Lady Rosacarnis, my dear. Would you like to weigh in?"

She nods, freeing her arm. "I would quite like it, thank you. Ah." The three of them look at a.. Stercorax walks back towards us, minus his left arm and part of his head. "Good work, Druoth."

"'ank you, misthress."

Neron scowls, green flame billowing around his hands. "None of us are strong enough to hold Hell by ourselves. That's why we formed this triumvirate in the first place. I'm the one who will be doing most of the fighting, so I'm the one who needs the weapon."

Satanus nods. "You're doing most of the fighting because you're best placed to do the fighting. If I had the Sword, I could aid you personally, speeding up our conquest."

I sidle closer to Simpson, watching as cyborgs and Druoth each edge closer to him. "Give it to me and you live through the day."

"Done." He slaps it into my hand, to the astonished glances of the three demon lords. "Now let's get out of here."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th October 2010
18:12 GMT -5

He takes off, and I'm…

Yeah, I've got no idea what I am.

Least he picks good take-out restaurants. To start with I thought he was just insulting my entire country as some sort of dominance thing, then I actually tried eating stuff from other countries, and I.. get it.

"Artemis?"

I watch the orange dot vanish, then turn back to the fire door to our newly de-asbestosed apartment, dinner in a paper bag in my left hand. Check for anyone watching first, then take out my key and put it in the one-way lock and open the door. It's a whole lot more convenient than going through the lobby or wriggling through a window, and the push-bar inside doesn't need a key…

Mom's waiting in the kitchen, walker next to her as she forces herself to use her legs to stand up.

"Hey Mom. I…" I hold up the bag. "Brought dinner."

She looks at the design on the bag, blinking. "Is that from Vietnam?"

"No. It's… From a Vietnamese restaurant in England. Paul…"

Paul had one of his little episodes when I suggested eating Vietnamese, then had no idea how much he should tell me about hygiene in Vietnamese restaurants. He was probably freaking out over nothing-.

Heh. Not like that time Wally showed him that video on Indian street food and his whole body started glowing orange. That was actually funny in a scary-thing-that-nearly-happened kinda way.

"The Orange Lantern?"

I put the bag on the worktop, nodding. "He knew a place."

"In England?"

I shrug as she pulls the takeaway containers out, watching so I can catch her if she starts having problems standing up. She did right after he did it, but she's been okay for a little while.

"We all got zeta tube access. There's a tube in London, and London's got a bunch of restaurants."

"You could have invited him in."

Yeeeeeah…

"I got.. homework." And I do. But that's not why. "I-. Mom, how do you tell when a guy's… Like, a psycho?"

Mom looks kinda worried, and puts the foil container down next to the plates. "Artemis, are you alright?"

"Yeah! Yeah yeah, he's not-." I breathe out. How do I explain-? "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't let someone like that on the team."

Except maybe Indigo, I guess. Shouldn't the Justice League have someone who could look at that-. At her?

"Then why are you asking?"

"I… Thought Paul might be? And then he did some stuff, and I… Don't know? Maybe it's his ring, or…" How can I..? "Or maybe he's autistic, or something? They like complicated math-games, right?"

"Why do you think he might be a psycho, Artemis?"

"He shot a cat in the head." Mom looks-. Yeah, okay, I should have explained-. "He used some blood from an immortal guy to make the cat immortal too. Its head just grew back, it was fine… But it was still pretty creepy. And I know medicines and cosmetics get tested on animals and stuff, so I guess.. him…"

"He is testing things on animals?"

"Yeah… A whole.. bunch of mad scientists made things that makes people… Better, and he wants to see if any of them are actually safe."

"You.. haven't taken any-?"

"No! No." I breathe out, trying not to get-. Kids my age do stuff like that, she's just-. Worried. Hey, that's basically what Wally did. "He had this… 'Vitamin' from World War Two which is supposed to be safe, but I said no."

"Is it?"

"He had a big pile of research… He found everyone who ever used it and went through their whole medical history." I.. frown. No, he said-. "Except one guy who took some other stuff as well. According to him, they all got a boost and none of them had any problems, but… Paul isn't exactly a doctor, and he was giving… Vibes."

I should… Probably look up that one guy. See if Robin knows anything, or if I can find anything out myself.

Mom nods and turns back to the food, pulling the edge of foil… Huh. Never seen one like that before. The lid's card with foil on the inside for insulation. Guess that's how they do them in England?

"'Vibes'?"

"He-could-be-a-psycho vibes."

"Because he shot the immortal cat."

"Yeah, and-. He thought I'd be interested. He thought I'd be okay with it once I saw that the cat was okay. It's like he-. That cat was alive at the start and alive at the end, so everything in the middle had to be okay, y'know?"

Does that even..?

"Does that make sense?"

Mom nods. "Yes, Artemis, it makes sense."

"Okay, good. Because its brain was all over the place, and that's not-. It's not normal how cool he was about it."

Mom starts plating the food as I lean back against the table.

"Did you tell him you didn't like him shooting animals?"

"Yeah, and he.. stopped doing it. But is that okay?

"Artemis… Do you like him?"

… "… He's… Nice? But it's like… He doesn't know how to act, sometimes? Like… Okay, so the first time I saw him on my own was in the gym, and he was checking me out really obviously. So I called him out on it and he took his shirt off to make it even."

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Ah… Yeah, I… Guess, but who does that?"

Mom picks up the plates and carries them to the table-. And I realise I should have got some glasses of water, so I get that while Mom gets the chopsticks.

"Someone who is very confident." Mom carefully pulls out her seat and sits down as I fill the glasses. "Has he said what sort of relationship he wants?"

"Dating, leading to marriage and a couple of kids, getting better superpowers until we conquer the universe as immortal gods. I think."

"Ah. Like your father."

Huh? "Huh?"

"Artemis, your father and I are supervillains."

Well, yeah, but-. Wait. "Were. You were, right?"

"It is hard to be a supervillain with a broken back. And it is irresponsible to do the things we used to when you have a young daughter."

Oh no. "But you're not going back, now, right?"

"The things your father and I used to do, we did them more because it was fun than for money or status. It was fun being smarter, faster, more carefree than everyone around us. It was liberating. And then I went to prison and your father… It stopped being fun for him."

"Yeah. I remember."

"When I got out, he said that he wanted to…" She sighs. "He wanted to achieve tangible results, money, influence, power… Whatever it cost. I told him that even if I could get healed I didn't think it was worth it. I suppose that the question of whether Paul is better for you than Lawrence is for me is whether he is willing to stop doing things that you don't like when you ask him to. Is he?"

"He didn't shoot the cat again."

"Then you are already a better judge of men than I am."

"Heh. Thanks. So…"

"You could try talking to his other friends, or his teachers? Maybe he just does not know how to act around girls?"

Okay. Get Robin to help look into that one guy who obviously had a bad reaction, and talk to him and the rest of the team about how Paul normally acts. I can do that. Because… He's hot, and-. He tries to be nice, and he's a superhero, and if I could stop worrying about this, I think… I think I could really like him.

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd October 2010
20:27 GMT -5

"Ah, yeah." Robin nods. Was.. he looking into this already? "Oh El asked me about him."

"Really?" Because talking about someone he doesn't want to talk to me about doesn't sound like something-.

"Okay, he asked Batman about him. And Batman knows a guy who used to work in British Intelligence."

"I thought he could just scan for intel with his power ring."

Robin wiggles his right hand. "Kinda. Green Lantern finds stuff like that hard. He usually uses an actual computer from a world with really advanced technology when he wants to hack something. Oh El can do it easier, but it still only really works with computer databases. We tested it a while after he got here, and going through paperwork takes him way longer. He thought Batman might be able to help him find stuff."

"Huh. So… Who is he?"

"Dennis Wilson. Used to be a superhero called 'Vitaman'." He presses a button on his arm computer and it brings up a hologram of some buff guy in combat pants, a skin-tight… Leotard? And a green beret. "Fought in World War Two, then he.. kinda vanished."

"Vanished?"

"Nineteen forties record-keeping was a lot more basic than what we have today. I know he stayed in the army after the war, but it's hard to find what he actually did. Except…"

"Okay?"

"Does the name 'Malayan Emergency' mean anything to you?"

"No?"

"It's basically British Vietnam, except they won. Batman couldn't find any paperwork about Vitaman being there, but Superman… Ah, found some old photographs a reporter took when they went there for a story, and he was in a couple of them."

"Vietnam, like..?"

"China-backed communist paramilitary picking a fight with the Europeans running the country, concentration camps, Agent Orange… And mass murders. That kind of thing."

"And Vitaman was there?"

Robin nods. "He wasn't super strong, but-."

"Yeah, Paul already told me about Vitamin X. He.. wanted me to take it."

Robin looks at me curiously. I just.. shrug. Then he presses another button and the hologram changes-.

"Is that a.. real head?"

"Yeah. That was kind of a thing for the Malay soldiers who mostly fought on the British side. Officially, it was for 'identification purposes'."

"And the British soldiers joined in?"

"Officially? No."

"Annnd unofficially?"

"They weren't exactly shy about posing for pictures with the severed heads." He shuts down the hologram. "He got a bunch of commendations, and it's… Basically impossible to tell if he was personally involved in any of the massacres."

"But you think he was."

Robin hesitates. "I think I'm judging him harshly because he was a superhero. For a soldier… War's… Messy and violent, especially guerrilla wars. And if he was involved, he sure wasn't the only one."

"Is there anyone we could talk to about it?" Uh. "Should we?"

"It happened during the fifties, so basically everyone who could have seen anything is dead. And honestly, memory isn't that reliable after that long anyway. Does it matter?"

"Paul said that no one had a bad reaction to Vitamin X except him, and that was only because he took some other stuff. But if he was only doing stuff that other soldiers were doing… What was he talking about?"

"I'm not sure. Paul doesn't really like talking about his research, and after I watched him pull apart a lab rat with his ring I.. kinda stopped asking."

"He's never had a problem talking about it with me."

He grins. "You've… Got an advantage over me, there."

I roll my eyes.

"Why'd you want to know, anyway?"

"Is there a problem with Vitamin X?"

"Not that I know of. Are you actually planning on taking it?"

"Not until I know what went wrong with Dennis Wilson. 'cause…" Ugh. "Does Paul seem, like… Off, to you?"

"Yeah? He… Did tell you he comes from a parallel universe, right?"

What? "No?"

"He-?" Robin sounds puzzled, and I'm feeling puzzled. "Huh. I didn't-. It's not like it's a secret."

Did he say anything about-? I mean, I think he said something wasn't how they did things where he was from, but I thought he just meant England.

"No. So..? What's it.. like? Where he's from?"

"No superpowers or mad scientists. Or… Not superscientists. One time he told me that some crazy British inventor built an engine with only three moving parts, but apart from that it was just a regular car engine." He shrugs. "It's not really supposed to be all that different from here."

"What do you mean, 'supposed to be'?"

"We can't check. He said he didn't know how he got here and the Justice League hasn't found a way to send him back. And… I saw how he reacted to stuff right after he got here, and it all fit."

"Like what?"

"He'd never seen a hologram before, and he thought he needed special gloves to use a holographic keyboard. They don't have holograms, so it was like a science fiction show for him." Gotham High doesn't have holographic keyboards, either. "And a couple of times he called someone by their real name in costume." That's.. bad. "I mean, it was in private so it wasn't a big deal, but I still don't think I've ever heard him call Wonder Woman 'Wonder Woman'. Diana, mostly, and 'sir' or 'your Highness' a few times. They don't have superheroes, so if he knows someone's name, that's what he called them."

"Y.. eah, he… Told me Green Arrow's got a kid?" Robin winces slightly, then nods. "Okay, but, apart from that."

"Ah, maybe? I only see him for team stuff. You should ask… Huh."

"What?"

"Mia's memories are still messed up from Brainiac, Miss Martian and Green Lantern are aliens and Kaldur comes from Atlantis. I don't think he really knows anyone else. I don't know if anyone would have noticed."

"Wonder Woman?"

"Maybe. What exactly are you worried about?"

"I dunno, exactly. I-. He's really serious about.. me, and I wanna be sure that that's just how he is and he didn't… Dose himself with something by accident or something."

"Huh. We've got medical reports from when he showed up. Batman would probably be okay with us checking them." He stops talking for a moment. "This 'thing' you're worried he dosed himself with. Are you talking about the other thing Vitaman got?"

"I dunno. Maybe?"

"I'll talk to Batman. Even if it's nothing, it's still a good training exercise."

He turns to go-.

"Hey, ah. Robin?" He turns back. "Thanks."

He smiles. "No problem. What are team mates for?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Day 23
29th March 2013
11:58 GMT -7

Sunset checks the binding circle again, hands on her hips. "Aren't you supposed to summon demons in the middle of the night?"

I shake my head as I watch the lecture theatre through a… A 'magic mirror' of all things. "If you're the sort of person who only hunts vampires once the sun's gone down and only hunts werewolves during a full moon… And only eats fish underwater, sure."

One of the observing FBI agents raises his right hand.

Sunset nods. "Mm?"

"Does that actually make a difference?"

Sunset shakes her head. "Ah, not usually. Some demons are drama queens who refuse to turn up if you don't summon them at the right time, and some cultists are just as bad. And then there's the practical side: if you're summoning a demon -which is universally recognised as a bad thing to do- most people would rather do it when it's less likely someone will notice. As far as times of day summoning restrictions go, it's really only fae who need to be summoned at particular times of day, and… There's really no point unless you want to do something stupid like erase your name from your own mind or something."

"Ah, thanks."

"Anyone else?"

She looks around the class, because she makes a point of answering questions fully. Because unlike Celestia, she has basic pattern recognition. I pick up the most recent addition to the First's skull collection in my right hand and sigh. I don't like to keep bringing up Celestia with her and… She's still seeing her and she hasn't had a breakdown that I've seen recently…

"Grayven, are things ready on your end?"

"Just finishing up. I'll be with you in a minute."

I pick up the magic mirror in my left hand and put it in the lower left desk drawer. I'm in the library where I met the First nearly a month ago, sitting at the desk decorated with bones. I didn't want to draw attention to it at the time because I wasn't sure what he was playing at. But that doesn't mean that I didn't recognise her.

"Queen Triskele, are you in there?"

The skull doesn't respond.

"You royally cheesed him off, didn't you? What, did you try joining in the New Triumvirate? Tell him that his mannequin-women couldn't hold a candle to real succubae? Drew my attention? I'm still not really sure what was going on there. It can't have just been about the Sword, can it?"

The skull remains silent.

"I'm never sure how it works with demons. Can you talk like this, or do you need actual flesh to make that work?"

The skull remains silent.

"Bit of a… Trick, John Constantine taught me. You know how breaching a summoning circle lets the demon kill the summoner and take their soul immediately?"

This time I just move the skull up and down like it's nodding.

"Did you know that it works the other way too? If the summoner breaks the circle they can go inside, and the demon can't flee while they live. Funny that. Don't know if you knew." I frown. "The Fuckpig was one of yours, wasn't he? Or maybe not. He was less about corruption through satisfying indulgence and more about… Encouraging vice?" Hm. "I suppose it might still come under your domain. Point is, in a few moments you're going to get summoned. And you're going to be offered a deal."

I bring the skull closer to my face so that I can stare directly into its eye sockets.

"Feel free to decline."

I then toss the skull away, standing up from the desk's chair as it bounces across the floor.

"Mother Box!"

"Ping."

BOOM!

I stroll out of the succustudy and into the lecture theatre.

Sunset's staring at the tube aperture, looking unimpressed. I nod to her. "Alright, all done. Carry on."

"Did you have to use the boom tube?"

"Yes, yes I did."

She rolls her eyes, then turns back to the audience.

"Alright. Everyone, today we will be summoning Triskele, Queen of the Succubae. Do not do this ever. While she's extremely powerful, every pact she willingly makes gives her the ability to use you as a puppet and pull you into Hell whenever she gets bored of playing with you. There's basically no upside and only a total idiot or a total ignoramus would ever summon her. If you encounter anyone who has made a pact with her in the field, my advice is that you don't try and help them because you can't. The only thing you can do is keep them away from other people so that she can't use them to hurt others."

An FBI agent with a prominent crucifix raises a hand and gets a nod.

"The pact can't be broken? By… Anything?"

"She offers extensions if you sacrifice the innocent to her. Babies work. But other than that, no. Demons are e-vil, not rational. A lot of the time they can't be bought off with anything a decent person would want to give them, and even then it's a maybe."

She wraps her hand around her crucifix. "I-."

One of her neighbours elbows her, and she cuts herself off.

Sunset sighs. "Since you're probably about to ask about divine intervention, I don't know. My world doesn't have a monotheistic religion so it's not something I've studied, and so far no angels have picked up my calls. So, maybe, it… Could be a 'you are damned, Faust' situation, but I haven't ever seen it happen. Anyone else?"

No one else.

"Okay, now, normally this would involve chanting and animal sacrifices, but we've prepared the field and I'm really good at magic. So. Triskele." Purple fire blooms along the edge of the summoning circle. "Get up here."

Bits and pieces of bone fly up through the magically-induced hole in the ground. I'm a little curious what that looks like from the other side, but I don't suppose that it matters. They gradually fill in her snake-shape, clicking together until the whole skeleton is in place.

Oh, and Sunset isn't 'just that good' at magic. We're using Ayelle's amulet as an attractor, but we don't really want any of these agents learning how to summon Triskele and it's better for them to assume that they can't.

The audience looks a little disappointed. Sunset smiles. "Expecting a demoness with big titties and a huge ass?" There are a couple of nods and a wave of awkward laughter. "She's more of a pimp than a streetwalker, and demons can easily change their shapes to look pleasing to their clients. If you ever do get into it with a succubus… Or an incubus, don't assume that you're seeing the 'real' them." She turns to the floating but unmoving skeleton. "And since it doesn't look like she's in any condition to talk-"

I bow, and Sunset raises her right hand.

"-I'll feed her just enough power to speak to us."

"Uh." Muscle tissue grows around her throat and mouth. "What do you want?"

I step up to the circle.

"You have the siblings of my children in your domain. You will aid in restoring their memories. You will exempt them from all service. You will guard and protect them. You will not seek retribution for this agreement. You will not ask for anything in return because I've got you over a barrel right now and the only way you're not being impaled on the Sword of the Fallen is if the next words out of your mouth are 'I agree to all of your terms'."

I draw the Sword and scuff the edge of the circle with my right foot.

"So how about it?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

31st October 2010
15:24 GMT -5

"The Evil Formula?!"

Artemis marches towards the bioship's entrance, waving a folder at me as I stop walking down the steps and consider what I should do.

Admit everything and start undoing the changes it made to your brain. You could do it gradually. You've got enough information now, and it wouldn't be 'erasing' yourself.

No. If it wasn't something I wanted to do before Artemis… And Robin from the looks of it, found out, then them finding out hasn't made me want to revert myself more.

Kaldur is standing at the bottom of the steps, and frowns at Artemis. "What do you mean?"

"Paul tried something on himself! It's called 'The Evil Formula'."

"That was-." Eh. That was weak, and I don't like looking weak, and I haven't gotten better at coming up with answers on the spot.

Just tell the truth, sport. It's for the best.

Don't be ridiculous.

"That's not its technical name. That's an informal description some of the researchers gave it because some of the people who received it became more violent afterwards."

Kaldur frowns and turns towards me. "You assured me that you were not testing the results of your work upon yourself."

I shrug. "I'd already used it by the time you said that. Combinations are unpredictable, so I obviously wasn't going to use any more."

Not that any of the other formulae I've been able to get hold of would work on me. I thought that B'wana Beast's elixir would be a superior substitute but for some reason it doesn't do anything.

M'gann comes out of the ship behind me and takes in the scene. "What's going on?"

Robin smirks. "Oh El's been sampling his own work."

"Oh. Is that bad?" His smirk fades a little. "I mean, you wouldn't trust a cook who wouldn't eat their own food, would you?"

"It's not quite that simple, M'gann."

I finish walking down the bioship's steps and put a very small smile on my lips. I've been practicing, and I think those are my most natural-looking.

"Look, I ran models with my computer and the power ring, tested it on animals and read all of the original research I could find. And it worked: it made me stronger, just like it was supposed to. I've been monitoring my own behaviour and I haven't noticed any problems, if I do then all the changes are purely physical and I can revert back to my pre-change self. It would be a blow, but if it was really a problem I could do it."

I look pointedly at Robin and Artemis.

"You know you could have just asked me this. I do keep research logs."

Artemis… Stands there.

Guilty. She's looking guilty, because her boyfriend was 'nice' about her going behind his back. Do you see the problem? You can't tell emotions from facial expression or body language any more, sport. That's a big deal.

I'm managing. No one is getting hurt, and you can't deny that it's made me more effective at my job.

There's more to life than efficiency. You're trying to date Artemis. What if you've changed your brain so that you can't love her?

I'm still attached to her. The fact that my attachment manifests differently to most people doesn't matter.

You gave me this personality so I could look out for you. This is me looking out for you. What's happening now is only going to get worse if you-.

I'm not going to lie to them.

But you're not going to trust them with the full truth, are you?

"Orange Lantern?"

Kaldur is.. looking at me. That's… Concern. Isn't it?

Yes, sport. That's concern.

"Sorry, just talking to the ring's AI. Did you.. say something?"

Robin holds up his arm computer with a.. recording of my original induction interview playing on it.

"Yes?"

"You're kind of acting different, Oh El. See how your expressions are different?"

I watch the image for a moment, then shake my head. "No, not… Really. Seems like fairly typical submissive behaviour to me."

"Ah..? What do you mean?"

"Smiling like that when surrounded by people who are far stronger than you. It's an instinctive way to show that you're not a threat. I don't specifically remember doing it, so it was probably automatic." I shrug. "I'm not sure what you think this means?"

Artemis passes the file to Kaldur, who looks at her instead of the paperwork.

"I am not well versed in surface world science. What do you want me to do with this?"

"Read the report on how everyone who took it started acting. How it turned regular guys into violent psychos."

Kaldur looks at me. I shrug.

"They were looking at how to make physical and psychological changes to soldiers in order to make them better soldiers and reduce instances of shell shock. That included altering behaviour. I'm not saying that I haven't changed, I'm saying that it's not a problem. Which is something that I genuinely believe."

"Believe what?"

Mia drifts down from the kitchen area, looking for an explanation.

"I used a thoroughly tested augmentative formula on myself two months ago and.. my.. friends are concerned for me."

She frowns. "Two months…" She clicks her fingers. "August nineteenth, right?"

"Ah, yes."

Artemis frowns. "Wait, you knew?"

"He started acting a bit different. And smelling different. I thought it was because he started dating you."

I shrug. "I'm.. not saying that I.. don't act differently. You.. saw how hesitant I was in our first couple of missions."

Kaldur nods. "And now you are not hesitant."

"I'm not sure how good the selection of candidates was on the original study, but I haven't just.. decided to attack people for daring to look at me, or anything like that. The fact is, in our line of work, being somewhat at ease with violence is a job skill."

"I would have preferred it had you mentioned this before now."

"You just told me that you're not a biochemist. I'm literally the leading world authority on most of these formulae and this is the only one I've actually used. If you want to.. get a second opinion, be my guest, but… You haven't complained about my conduct so far. What's the issue now?"

Artemis stomps a step closer. "Because I'm worried about you… Ass!"

They're not accusing me of anything, they're not accusing me of anything…

Artemis is worried about me. And that's… Good? Good.

"Well, thank you, but you really don't need to be. I'm.. in a good place. I'm fine. There's no need to worry."

 

[Mr Zoat]

31st October 2010
16:08 GMT -5

That didn't take long.

The resources of the Justice League are useful to me. Having trainers and legal coverage and… People who will drag my broken body to a hospital if things go badly wrong, those are useful to me. They're not essential. There is, in fact, a grand total of one man I can't just walk away from.

Green Lantern Abin Sur, Sector 2814. Mardi Gras skin, inhumanly large eyes with yellow sclera and no iris, a far better Lantern than me -at the moment- and someone who could end my career very easily and very permanently by reporting me to the Guardians. Even if all they do is take the ring and Lantern from me, I'll still be stuck… Mundane. Oh, I've got.. money, and mostly-legal paperwork. I won't starve or be arrested for existing, but this is my new normal. None of the alternate empowerment techniques I've looked at match a power ring because I haven't been trying to match a power ring, I've been trying to supplement it.

Lantern Sur bows his head slightly. "I see what they meant about your smile. Are you really that worried?"

"Yes."

He nods slowly. "I had thought that we had a better relationship than that. What is it that concerns you so?"

"I can evade every other member of the Justice League indefinitely."

"Have you done anything which might mean that you have to evade me?"

"No, but you're still here."

He looks at me… Sadly?

It's not much progress, but I'll take it.

Then he raises his right hand and calls up… Some kind of report on a construct page that I… Can't read for some reason.

"Yes, I see. I did note a change in your attitude when you used this-." He makes eye contact with me for a moment. "'Augmentative formula one seven three dash B'-" Thank you. "-but I thought it was a reaction to the change in your life circumstances. Will you allow me to scan your brain?"

I have my own scans, of course. And every record he's shown me suggests that doing more than scan with a green ring is an expert level thing, and despite his long service Lantern Sur isn't actually an 'expert' with a ring in any particular field. But he's either decided that turning me back by any means is necessary or he's really just concerned, and this is the man who founded the Indigo Lantern Corps.

It still really rankles, though. That's a trait of psychopathy that… Alright, I wouldn't exactly miss it.

I don't bother trying to smile, but I do take off my ring and put it down on the work bench before fanning out my hands. I couldn't fight him if he was determined to take it anyway, and a show of trust-.

And a show of submission, yes.

No.

Might be just the ticket.

He doesn't scan me immediately, so, good?

I nod. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." He raises his ring and green light strobes over my head, then slowly shift down to the rest of my body. "Hm. Yes, you're a good deal stronger now, and your brain… The patterns of activity are very similar to those of a psychopath."

"Yes, I know. But my behaviour-."

"Has changed, even if you haven't done anything that would require us to detain you. You do understand why I am concerned, don't you?"

I nod. "I was concerned as well, then I checked that I could recognise when a thing was wrong even if I didn't really feel it any longer. I submitted mission reports at the time."

"And I read them. I-."

"Paul, I-" Artemis shoves the door open, and then spots Lantern Sur. "-want-. Ed. Ah, Green Lantern."

She didn't know he was here, so… Another attempt to persuade me.. without other people being around? I suppose that she's most likely to recognise how psychopaths behave, but I'd assumed that she was most familiar with the violent sort of psychopath.

"Miss Artemis. Do you.. wish to speak privately with Paul?"

"That-. Are you talking him out of this?"

Lantern Sur considers me for a moment. "I don't think that I can, if he has set his mind to it. As he is now, we can't form the sort of emotional bond that would make him simply accept my suggestion."

I can't stop myself from snorting. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"You say that like it's not. Have you considered the impact of not being able to form relationships with people will have-."

I glance at Artemis. "I can."

"Not remotely normal ones." He turns and walks towards the door. "Please, for your own sake, consider it."

I keep.. watching Artemis as Lantern Sur leaves and the door shuts behind him. She looks… Awkward.

"Yeah, I-."

"Given the behaviour you've seen from your father's associates, I'm… A risk."

"It's not-. Like that. They're messed up! They make themselves and everyone around them-."

"Fine."

She stops, mid-rant. "Huh."

"I want you. As I am.. now, anyway. But this is a big deal for you. So… Okay. I…"

"Oh."

"Yeah. But… When I removed the… When I used it, I didn't really notice that it was gone. Adding it back in… I'll have to do it gradually, and I'm… Probably going to be an emotional mess."

I call the ring back to my finger.

Ring, notify Kaldur that I won't be available for a week.

Sure thing, sport. I think you're making the right-.

Don't. I'm not happy about being in this situation, but I need to be realistic.

Okay. Standing by.

"But when I.. do this… Assuming I'm still interested, am I boyfriend material?"

"I-." I think she's considering just saying 'yes', but then decides to be honest instead. "Maybe. We can.. try it. Just-. Don't inject yourself with.. more things."

"But-." It's a trust issue. Even for the safe things, if I can't-. "Okay. No injections."

I fabricate myself a cushioned pad and set it on the floor before lying on it and strapping myself in.

"Ah… What's.. that?"

"I'm going to be manually changing the structure of my brain. I'm expecting seizures and extremes of emotion until things settle down. Which means that I can't just strap myself in with the ring, because I won't be able to focus my emotions."

"You.. don't want to do this in the medical..?"

"No, I just want to get it done. Ring, re-. Slowly, revert."

 

[Mr Zoat]

31st October 2010
16:22 GMT -5

Hang in there, sp-.

Tearitoffgetitoffgetitoff!

"Ah… Was that-?"

You made me do this!

"Ohkay, never mind."

And then the impulse is gone, and I'm shaking and shivering again and at least I haven't lost bladder control but it's only a matter of time.

"Jeez, you weren't joking-"

Why did I look at her like that!?

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'm-."

"No, no, it's-. I didn't think it would be this-. Were you like this when you used it?"

"Nerr-nerr-nerr-nerr-no." I try to curl up on myself, but I can't because the restraints stop me and I'm not strong enough or coordinated enough to break free. "If you break your back, you immediately lose use of your legs. If your back gets fixed, you can't suddenly walk again."

No! Why did I choose that-!

"I'm sorry, that was the wrong-."

"No-. I get it. It makes sense."

I'm crying, and my nose is running, and I didn't think to put a tissue box within arm's reach. I'm disgusting, I'm so stupid!

"Ah, do you want me to-?"

"G-uh."

Keep away!

"Okay, I'll just… I didn't… I didn't realise it would mess you up this.. much. Ah, do you need-?"

She goes to pick up the ring-.

"Don't touch it!"

"Ah, is that, like, 'I'm freaking out' don't touch it, or a 'that's actually dangerous' don't touch it?"

"Duh, ah, second one. Touching the inner surface connects it to your brain, connects the orange light to your brain."

"And I think we've learn from this that messing around with brains is a bad idea." She picks up a pair of tongs from the top of a workbench and uses them to pick up the ring from underneath the workbench where I threw it. "Huh."

"Is it t-t-t-t-talking to you? Making you… See things you want-."

"You're…" She turns around. "Not exactly the best advert for orange power rings right now. And I watched Lord of the Rings."

"It's… Not the same. The One Ring just tells you what it needs to so you'll take it to Sauron. An orange power ring can actually… Do that stuff."

She watches me for a moment, then shakes her head. "I'm good. So, do you need it?"

She looks huge, strong, towering over me-. Stop! Stop!

"Could… Reverse this. Can't… Focus. Could do anything. Not safe."

"Makes sense." She puts the tongs and ring down on top of the workbench. "I could get you some kleenex?"

I… Nod, rocking backwards and forwards.

She straightens up and looks around. "Where are they?"

Oh, thank you. "I can't get ill with a power ring. You'd have to look somewhere else."

"Ah…" She looks at the door, then back at me. "I don't think I should leave you on your own. Artemis to… Robin?"

"Robin here."

"Do you know where we keep the kleenex?"

"Ah… Kitchen?"

"Anywhere closer?"

"Maybe? Where are you?"

"Paul's lab. He's gotten rid of the Evil Formula, and now he's a mess."

"You talked him into that? Do I wanna ask how, or am I not old enough?"

That little SHIT! Get up and HUNT HIM DOWN! GET UP-!

Oof! Can't-. Can't move.

"Kid, can you bring some kleenex to Paul's lab?"

"Mad Science Central? I dunno if-."

"He cured himself and he's having a mental breakdown."

"Oh. Great! I mean, I like the science, it's the mad I'm not-"

A gust of wind blows through the workshop.

"-so keen on." I squirm around so I can see him as he looks down at me. "Oh. His amygdala-. Right."

"You know what's happening? Can we turn it down or something?"

"Ah, usually that kinda thing happens to… Really old people. You know how they'll just… Come out with something? Out of character? Without thinking about it?" She nods. "Right now he's gone from not being able to feel normal human emotions to not being able to block out anything." He blurs closer. "Hey, dude."

He holds out the tissue box, and I grab-. Scrabble, snatch and wipe my eyes, my nose, my mouth and my chin.

"Thank you."

"Gotta say, even messed up like this? You're acting more human."

"Man is something to be overcome."

"Oooor not."

I blink slowly. Everything's still-. Fuzzy. I look around and-. Irritation over things not working and it's like someone just burned my research right in front of me. Completely disproportionate, but I'm getting a slightly better handle on it.

"I think.. I'm in a.. calm patch." I take the tissue box, pull out a single tissue and… Clean myself up a little more precisely. "Could you please cut me out of these straps?"

He glances at Artemis, but she's already pulled out a point arrow. "Okay, but-. How do we know you actually did it? Psychopaths are usually really good at manipulating people."

"He's not wearing his ring. Do you really think he could fake that without it?"

"Maybe? There's drugs that-."

Artemis rolls her eyes. "Hey, Paul? Wanna catch a movie later?"

I think I can probably handle that. "Ah, yes, that sounds nice."

"Huh." Wallace steps aside as she comes forward to cut me free. "I see what you mean about the smile. It's about ninety percent less serial killer."