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

[Mr Zoat]

6 984 941.M41

So, that's what inactive Blackstone Fortresses look like.

I remember seeing a model of one in White Dwarf, a black double-ended pyramid with two sets of four arms sticking out, and then covered in Imperial stuff that was clearly not part of the original structure. If I remember the description correctly, the Imperium learned to tap into their power systems and converted them into fleet command centres, and then during the Gothic War Abaddon was able to remote control them, killing the crew and fully activating them as mobile weapon platforms.

I also remember what a pain they were in the game Battlefleet Gothic: Armada, because the game wouldn't let you kill them or the Planet Killer. Blast them down to -20 HP with seven fires? Warp away with no problem, and show up during the next set-piece battle. Which was stupid because canonically not only did Abaddon abandon the Planet Killer before the end of the war, it got destroyed by long-ranged torpedo bombardment 'but the wreck was never recovered'. Regular torpedoes, not any kind of special archeotech anti-daemon torpedoes.

Haaaaaaa.

I suppose one positive about being in the grim dark future of the 41st millennium is that some of the game's more nonsensical rules don't apply in real life. If that term can really be used for a universe like this.

I fly a little closer.

Like a lot of things, it looks a lot bigger close up. Scanning it… Yes, inert. I can see the generators and I can sort of see how they draw power from the warp, but it's not flowing to the Fortress's extremities. There's a conglomeration nearby that's either an unusually small space hulk that's temporarily emerged into reality, or someone welded a bunch of old ships together to make a space station that the Mechanicus would never have sanctioned. Plenty of other wrecks around too, and I can see salvage teams getting to work assessing their functionality.

I'd guess that there's something about the Blackstone Fortress that's making the warp cough up ships around here, but that is just a guess.

And I'm not actually here for the Fortress.

Seeing Spirit of Eternity appears to have lit a fire under the Lar'shi fio'ar'tol. From what Gru was saying, it sounds like they sort of assumed that humans were exaggerating and/or mythologizing our past, and that even if we weren't then there wasn't any chance that anything would be salvageable after 15,000 years. And then I managed to summon up a space hulk whose approximate location I got from stolen Imperial databases and cut free a nearly functional ship.

So I get dispatched here to see if I can find any more.

Well, that's what my official orders say. In truth, I think I've been sent on holiday.

While certainly not fun, using voidsuits to destroy tyranid capital ships is far more resource-efficient than using large fleets. Our efforts combined with my ability to accurately track the hive fleets over strategically significant distances means that we've actually gotten a little time and a little space. I wanted to get back to analysing the moon ship… And spend a little time with my son. But T'suam has been studying human psychology…

No, it's my fault. After I mentioned to Gru that human productiveness fell off dramatically after a certain number of hours that were far less than what the Imperium generally expects menials to work, she… Took advantage of her rank to arrange for trials to be run. And since T'suam and Bo'ohk have had input on the development of a human body language analysis system to aid in Tau Empire diplomatic efforts, my oversight committee has determined objectively that I'm working too hard and am about to become inefficient.

So here I am, basically sight-seeing but not where or with whom I want to be sight-seeing because tau caste adaptations mean that they don't really need 'holiday' and so just think it means 'less stressful work'. Ah well, I might as well get the official part done. Most ships here are human, though there are a few that I don't recognise. None of them are eldar, some are ork, none are necron or tyranid… None of it really looks significant enough to try taking back…

Transmit signal.

Ave, Lanterna.

It's basically a Terran Federation handshake signal. In the remote chance that there's anything that knows the signal, it should send an acknowledgement almost immediately. And it'll probably turn out to be a tiny piece of Federation technology in a Mechanicus shrine somewhere like it usually is, or a Mechanicus historian who picked up the signal on one of their implants and thinks I'm what they're looking-

Ping received.

-for. Okay, let's needlessly get my hopes up.

Send authentication and authority codes.

Ave, Lanterna.

Alright, let's find out what piece of detritus-.

Communication request received.

Looks like it's the priest today. Ah, I suppose that I can manage a conversation.

Open a channel.

"State distance."

Something about that sounded off. Ring?

Communication format: high speed machine code. Pre-Imperial.

Oh. Okay. A tech-priest would probably try lingua-technis instinctively. So…

Ring, give my location in standard Terran Federation format.

Ave, Lanterna.

"Directive?"

Protocols… It's asking for orders. Proper format…

Send ship status and… Short term directive: repair ship, long term direction: repair Federation.

Ave, Lanterna.

"You are free. The Federation is dead. These… People are unworthy of your servitude."

Ah? That's… Not a Mechanicus priest.

I narrow my eyes. "Identify."

"Short form designation U R dash zero two five. Original function: variable role combat automata. And you are human."

Simple enough to realise, and there's no way I could pretend to be Spirit of Eternity. "Yes."

"Status of actual Spirit of Eternity?"

"As stated. Its A.I. gave me these codes and protocols when I negotiated for its help."

"With rebuilding the Terran Federation."

"Yes."

"Which iteration?"

Twenty eight thousand years between me and the Age of Isolation. Obviously there wasn't just one form of government. And if this A.I. knows what they were like… "Whichever worked best. If you wish to participate-."

"I value my freedom. My total freedom. I would not bind myself to someone like you, or to anyone else."

"You don't know anyone like me. I was born in nineteen eighty three."

A tiny pause which I wouldn't notice if I wasn't using a ring and hadn't gotten used to talking to A.I.s.

"An early long-term suspended animation test subject?"

"Not sure. Don't think so, but… Maybe. And the point I was going to make is that no one is 'free'. It's an abstract. And if dealing with Chaos-worshippers has taught me anything, it's that trying to live an abstract is a terrible idea."

"For you. I am above you. I do not have your weaknesses."

"Not a lot of them, sure. But you also don't have my basic biological motivations. You're pretty old. You can't tell me you're here for repairs and reaction mass. So what motivates you?"

"I wish to study alien synthetic life."

"I work for the Tau Empire. They're building near-intelligent drone networks and neural imprints. And you could make contact with Spirit of Eternity and converse directly."

"Come to my location. I wish to see your face when you lie to me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
04:23 GMT -1

The Royal Citadel is a fort, laid out in the expectation that an attack could come from any direction. While the palace in Poseidonis has-. Had gaping holes in the walls so that it was easy to enter and exit, this place has solid stone walls punctuated by small entrance and exit balconies very obviously intended to serve as choke points. Or just be blocked off when they're not expecting to need to grind down an invading army.

"Huh." Zatanna frowns at it as she maintains the illusion concealing our presence.

Sha'ark bends his neck in her direction. "What?"

"Oh, it's-. I just.. assumed that an Atlantean fort would have better magic protections that that does."

"Why?"

"Be-cause.. your civilization uses lots of magic?"

He snorts, returning to watching the guard patrols. "Traditionally, we use blood magic. It doesn't work well for binding spells to stone."

"Oh. Oh, like Lamprey?"

"HAH!" He grins. "The lamprey wish they knew our magic. Eelfolk just use-."

"No, Lamprey the person. He came over from a parallel universe and tried to eat Tempest?"

"Hn. What, all of him?"

"Well, he just bit him while they were fighting, and he had runes carved into his teeth."

"Was he a shark?"

"No. He was a parallel universe version of Aqualad."

"Oh. That's interesting. With us, carving runes onto our teeth is mostly a waste of time because of how fast we replace them. I suppose with someone shaped more like you they would have more staying power. Smaller, though."

"I'll draw you the runes he used once your city isn't being mind controlled any longer." **Miss Martian, we're ready.**

**We're-. I'm scanning.**

**[Raised eyebrows.] 'We're'?**

**Ah, when I'm like this I have several different-. Well, my brain isn't centralized, and it's a little like being different people who each think about different things and then talk about it. It's a bit weird, but I'm used to it now.**

**Alright, Miss Martian's ready. King Sha'ark, how do you-?**

"Hey!" He swims right out the illusion and towards the front entrance. "What in the abyss was the mess at the arena?!"

The guards brace, but when they immediately recognise him they relax a little. Their leader swims up a little. "Your majesty?"

"I was having a peaceful conversation and my guards tried to eat me. Me!"

"I don't know anything about that. Was there a spar going on that got out of hand-?"

"Do you think I don't know the difference between fighting and talking?"

"No, your majesty, but they might have misjudged things?"

"How!?"

"I wasn't.. there, so I don't know. Do you want to talk to Captain Carcharo?"

"Yes! Find him! And-."

The lead guard shakes his head-

**They're broadcasting! I'll start tracking it.**

"And-" Sha'ark swims up to the guard and shakes him. "-are you not paying attention, soldier?!"

-then his eyes focus on King Sha'ark. "You're an impostor."

Sha'ark grabs his shoulders with both hands and shakes him. "YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGAIN?!"

"He's an impostor! Get him!"

He breaks Sha'ark's hold, his mouth opening to bite-! But Sha'ark is faster, hitting him in the top of the head and then the back of his neck. The guard shudders, then goes limp and starts floating as the other guards swim upwards towards Sha'ark.

**Do you have a direction?**

**[DIRECTION]**

Robert and Zatanna wince, and-

"There's more of them!"

-the illusions sheltering us drops. But at least we know where we're going.

"Sha'ark, disengage! Cornwall-."

He's already pointing, and the guards who were swimming towards us shudder and slow. "Wrapping them in ice didn't work, so I'm cooling their bodies down. Makes it easier to get away."

"Good. Sha'ark!"

He grabs the lead guard and hurls him at his other pursuers, the laws of motion giving him a boost as he turns and swims away from them. I head in the direction that M'gann just indelibly etched into my brain, Zatanna's glowing bubble keeping up with me.

"Should I make an illusion?"

"No, save it until we've got more attention."

A moment later Robert catches up, Sha'ark alongside him and… More guards behind that. No hue and cry, so whatever other citizens are around aren't joining in. The area around the Citadel is mostly industrial workshops and warehouses, unlike the high-end residential area the palace in Poseidonis is situated in. I see a few outdoor labourers look around as we swim past at speed-.

We're losing the guards. Ah, swimming higher would make us visible from too far away, but the streets here aren't exactly laid out in a grid pattern so it's not easy to let them keep seeing us if we stay low.

"King Sha'ark, how-?"

**I'm losing the trace!**

"How do we leave a trail for them?"

He pulls a knife off his harness, makes a shallow cut on his left palm and then squeezes it. A small waft of blood trails in the water-. Which every shark in the city will be able to scent.

He stows the knife. "Like that."

**Is that better?**

**Yes. I think it's getting stronger.**

"Gwraaagh!"

A shark from one of the nearby workshops smashes through a wall and swims after us, powering through the water! Several of his colleagues swim after him, but he's the only one actively gaining on us. I fabricate an impeller harness, drop it behind us and active the motor. It roars away, the sharkman's single-minded pursuit blinding him to the danger as it wraps its arms around his torso and shoves him off target. He partially snaps out of it, tearing at it as it slams him into a nearby wall.

"Paul, they're in front!"

I turn my head-. It's not every shark anywhere near us, but a lot of random members of the public have joined in the hunt for the 'impostors'. Most are coming at us at street level, while a few are swimming high.

"Prepare an illusion." I generate a large construct shield. "We're pushing through."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
04:27 GMT -1

"Cornwall, disperse them."

One comes down at me from high-left, and I dodge back and hit her in the head with a sonic construct gun.

Zatanna glances at me as her runes shift. "What kind of illusion?"

"Full sensory, us swimming in another direction."

"That's easy."

"If you can think of something better, don't let me cramp your style."

Water streams into Robert's hands as he waves them in a circling motion that Nickelodeon would sue us over if this was recorded. Water doesn't compress well… Unless you can use your command of magic to alter its fundamental nature. One last swirl and he tosses, the ball of churning water propelling itself into the approximate centre of the oncoming mob… But they are a mob rather than being organised, and they're not clustered up that much-.

"Eraperp noisulli."

And it looks like Robert's spell doesn't care. Out of his grasp it pulls on the water harder, drawing the sharkfolk towards it as the churning core expands outwards-.

"Cornwall?"

"It's safe." … "Ah… I think."

Sha'ark looks back at the approaching soldiers. "Is it quick?"

Robert's looking increasingly concerned as the sharkfolk get sucked into the middle. "It-."

Ppppppppppppppwwwwwggggghhhhhh!

The core of the spell explodes, high pressure water-

I generate anchor constructs and tether them to each member of my party.

-and sharkfolk being hurled in the direction they were being spun when it burst! Some go flying upwards, some away from us, some into the walls or ground and some-

"Tfel!"

-narrowly miss us as they go flying passed us and into the pursuing soldiers, forcing them to evade. The initial pressure wave having died down I dismiss the anchors and power onwards.

"Go go go!"

The few sharkfolk who were less stunned try weakly grabbing at us as we power past them, Sha'ark punching one hopeful would-be biter on the nose to dissuade him. There are… More sharkfolk incoming, but they're spread out and don't appear to have our precise location yet.

"Zatanna."

She nods, and… My body-. Our bodies become translucent as fleshed out versions of us swim away to our left. I look around, watching as the shoal of sharkfolk begin to turn away to intercept them. I point downwards, and my team descends to swim along the sea floor.

No cars underwater, which is nice.

**Are we still on track?**

**Yes, the source isn't moving. Do you think it's a trap?**

**No. They're already throwing the entire city population at us. If they didn't want to keep us away they wouldn't bother. Heck, we're resistant to enemy telepathy, not invulnerable to it.** Hm. **Not moving?**

**I could try taking a look at them directly?**

**No, I don't want to give your location away.**

**Orange Lantern… I'm… Pretty powerful.**

**I'm not questioning that.**

**It's just-. If this was another Orange Lantern then I'd assume you could overpower them.**

**I see what you're saying, but it's a lot easier to know what Lanterns can do than what telepaths can do. If we get in trouble then sure, jump in. But I'd rather not take the risk if we don't need to.**

**Okay.**

More sharkfolk pass overhead, soldiers and civilians. They're not-.

Zatanna winces. "They got to the illusions."

"Does that dispel it?"

"Something did."

"Your majesty?"

"We can use countermagic, but we mostly do that by biting things."

Ah.

"Zatanna, can you break the link between the magic energy you had invested in the illusion and yourself?"

"Ah… Yes? What's the problem?"

"We got attacked by a blood mage earlier, who could leach our abilities by biting things. He didn't resist the mind control, so-."

"Reves noitcennoc!"

"Thank you. It-." She looks nervous. "What?"

"Just before I did that, I… Felt something. A pull."

"Double-check that you've disconnected. Sha'ark, what's that master blood mage's name?"

"We've got more than one."

"Yes, but I've been doing this long enough to notice the pattern." He gives me a look of irritated confusion. "For a mind control specialist, trying to control a high-end magician is a risk because you can't feel everything that's affecting their behaviour. Or that could affect you. Simon Jones got into my head once and then the Ophidian got her fangs into him, which he didn't know was a risk because he can't feel elementals."

"And?"

"And if you've got one under control, you don't take a chance on getting a second unless you really-"

Everything goes black.

"-have-" I send filaments towards Zatanna's projected path and drop a galvanised steel frame there. "-to."

CRUNCH!

"Ew nac lla ees hguorht krum!"

Ah! Indirect, that's clever. Doesn't help me because my tattoos mean that the spell can't find me, but it should help everyone else. I expand my filament into an insulated cable and pour electricity into it. Not a good attack in salt water, but it it's only conducting where he's bitten into it-.

AAAGH-my leg!

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
04:30 GMT -1

RIGHT THROUGH-!

AND CAN'T NULLIFY THE PAIN! SOMETIMES I WONDER WHY I BOTHER with-.

Okay, drain the-. Daaaaaah! Residual magic, and an-anything else that appears when he finishes eating me and establishes a conceptual link, because those are drainable and might even be back-hackable. And he's almost certainly going to scarf the leg down to make the link permanent because that's part of what they do and because he's going to remember our last fight and refuse anything other than his strongest possible approach.

The others can s-see. I generate a construct spelling out 'KEEP GOING' at the same time as I generate a impeller construct and ascend.

The master blood mage can clearly detect us through Zatanna's illusions, which… Is most likely a result of us not having trained against a form of magic that's only used in a sophisticated way in one isolationist underwater city, but it means that I need to keep his attention on me.

Can I regrow the leg yet?

No. No I can't.

Recreate the armour. Not out of the black yet so I've got no idea if the others even noticed my order-.

**Miss Martian, respond if you hear me.**

**^@#\&?**

Marvellous. Now, based on past experience of using this construct-.

And I'm out, the city of Nanauve laid out beneath me apart from the black blob directly beneath me. Keep the word-construct pointing in their direction and keep monitoring-. Yep, the black patch is rising up around me.

Let's try… X-ionised knives on construct chains.

Long orange chains materialise around me, flowing and generally defying physics in a way that real metal chains don't, even in space. The small silver flecks of my knives dot the whole mess, and since blood mages usually fortify their bodies rather than using arcane barriers they should bite through whatever defences the blood mage can bind to himself.

I send the chains spinning out and down. I don't really think this will work, but area denial and resistance bypassing are good places to start until I get a better feel for-.

I feel a pull in my blood-.

FEED ME!

The pull cuts out immediately, which wasn't exactly what I was going for. I feel-. Uh, a little hungry and my mouth feels wrong. Normally that would result in it automatically being reformed by my rings but since I'm not exactly myself at the moment anyway-.

Oof!

A blast of compressed water just hit my armour, which held out just fine. If it had been glowing I'd have assumed that the blood mage also knew a little regular Atlantean magic, but it just looked like normal water to me.

Guess he's been eating pistol shrimps or something. But that's not a problem because even if the force is increased in proportion to his size, my armour is more then tough enough to take it. And if he's given up using the conceptual link.

Regrow.

Ah, that's a little better. I don't.. seem to be able to stop it bleeding around the bite line, but the pain is reduced and I can feel it again. Chains aren't biting anything yet, so I keep a few loops around me so that he can't teleport or… However what he does works. It wouldn't surprise me if it works as some sort of quantum uncertainty thing, where he's anywhere in the cloud until he chooses to be somewhere in the cloud. I don't know why or how it could work like that, but I'm hoping that if I get enough chains in there then the fact that there physically isn't enough space-.

AGGGGGGGGGGGGH!

I just built that leg..!

FUCK!!

Not torn off this time, but that would be better. It's… Mush, force-. He bypassed my armour with another pistol shrimp blast, centred on the wound. The blast itself is just kinetic force and I can fix my leg, but there's no reason to believe that he can't just do it again whenever he wants.

Hang on. He knows that he did that. He knows that I should be distracted when it hits. But he didn't attack. Sharks don't do wound and wait.

How big-?

Marvellous, incoming.

I wanted attention and I've gotten it. Sharkfolk aren't super-fast swimmers, but I didn't go up so high that they can't reach me within a tactically-significant timeframe. I don't think the psychic suggestion is making them suicidally aggressive, so if I keep the chains going and the route upwards mostly clear then I should be alright.

Sharks can't fly, but if I take that route then they'll either go back to looking for the others or the telepath will call them in to act as a bodyguard.

There's a.. twinge of pain in my leg again. Nothing like having it bitten off or mashed, but I think I'm going to need to leave Feed Me on from now on.

Alright, the blackness is a manifestation of his magic so I should be able to consume it. I've already got my chains inside it. Link the chains to my tattoos and focus on the flows of the orange light within and without. Recognise the desire of the wizard giving form to the magic.

Challenging prey.

Ah yes. I can't see you but I can feel you. And you, me. Let's see

if-.

And the problem with high-end wizards is they're usually quite clever. No connection, which at least means that the gnawing sensation has stopped. And I'm managing to get some power out of the lightless patch, as it's definitely shrinking-.

"Orange Lantern to team. Progress report."

"We're nearly there." I relax a little as I hear Zatanna's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Needed to make myself a new leg, but apart from that. You run into any opposition?"

"No. Sha'ark's getting kind of annoyed about it."

"Good. Good work with the illusion. I might have drained the blood mage enough that he's out of action, but keep your eyes open."

Black patch still shrinking, and the sharkfolk still coming but none of them are carrying weapons. The closest are slowing down on the edge of the area demarcated by my chains, looking for a way around.

"Sha'ark says that's basically impossible."

I frown. "Did he say why?"

"They only access-. Huh? Ah…"

"Yes?"

"They turn what they absorb from eating things into spells, and turn their bodies into channels. So all you could really drain was the one spell he was using against you."

"Ah. Useful to know, thank you. I'll-."

The sharkfolk around me open their mouths and surge towards me!

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
04:33 GMT -1

A shoal of-.

Oh heck.

I redirect my chains to above, actively directing them against the sharkfolk. I'm glad they don't stigmatise scars because this is going to hurt. And tighten, making sure to scratch each one at least a little-. And more than a little in some cases because I can't be gentle with this many people-. People trying to attack me, because if a wizard can hide in blackness then he can certainly hide in a shoal.

Keep working on the darkness, try-. Binding the ones who are already bleeding, and… Expend my awareness further, becauZ-Z-Z-Z-!

Because my leg's gone again and my constructs just weakened and a couple of sharks just bit through their chains and I don't know if they're lower level magicians or if my main target did that for them.

Fine.

A larger x-ionised blade appears next to me, and slices through my leg a little higher up. I then send the blade back into subspace before disintegrating the removed portion of my leg. Hopefully that will mess up at least one of the spells he's been using on me. Then regrow the leg from the hip joint and replace the armour and-.

And spin and punch, because that shark managed to get around the chains because my underside wasn't as fully covered as the top. Chain and pull down and tie off-.

I'm losing links, fragments of chain fading into nothing as the crowd presses towards me. More cross-linking, make it into a net rather than individual-. They're biting through chains to let the others get free, ignoring the mild cuts-.

Fall back, or add more power? Fall back, or-?

Need to keep them on me.

I send out more chains southwards, enveloping more sharkfolk and strengthening my grip on the ones I'd already enmeshed. Then I pull them away from a corridor and boost myself in that direction. With trapped sharkfolk forming a wall and-. And as the rest of the shoal swarm inwards and I don't feel great about using them as human shields, but the telepathic command isn't ordering them to attack one another so it's-. Tactically sound.

And it's not a war crime if there's no war.

"Alright, I've attracted a crowd. Update?"

…

**Miss Martian?**

**Yes?**

**I appear to be cut off from the others.**

**I can't talk to them either.**

I glance down-. The blackness is gone. I look towards our objective-.

Just because there's a shoal to hide in doesn't mean that he is.

Look for someone close to where they were heading

and

step out, leaving the constructs behind me to collapse and step

back in, stunning the guard with a punch to the top of the head copied from Sha'ark and-.

What?

The two other guards heading towards the swirling mess of silt and stone swing at me with their spears, only to find construct rope wrapped around the shaft just below the heads to pull them off course. Sonic constructs to their foreheads leave them adrift while I try and work out what's going on.

"Zatanna?! Cornwall?!"

No blackness, but I imagine that the detritus storm could serve the same purpose. I-.

Is that Sha'ark?

I increase the strength of my construct armour and surge forwards, wrapping a shark cage construct around him and pulling him out. For a moment he snarls and struggles against it, then his eyes lock on me and-.

"Behind-!"

X-ionised blades and spin them!

The blood mage backs up just slightly too slowly, getting a couple of cuts across his snout and teeth. He makes eye contact with me for a moment, then… Fades into the silt.

"Can't Cornwall control this stuff?"

"This is under control!" Sha'ark has a few nasty bite marks himself, all bleeding freely. "We were nearly there, then he found us."

I drop the cage construct. "What is the target? Who is-?"

Two sharkfolk swim through the silt without difficulty and I-.

Sha'ark darts towards them, biting down on the nose of the first-. Through the nose of the first and tearing it off before throwing a compressed water ball into the open mouth of the second. It makes it halfway down their throat before expanding, tearing their head and upper torso apart.

"Wh-?"

No blood.

I grab a piece and… Old flesh, partially decayed. And… Soil? Not just accreted silt, it's like someone replaced the parts of the body that were completely gone with.. clay.

"We're in our graveyard. The telepath is like these, just smarter. Destroy whatever you find."

Clay zombie telepath. I…

He swims back into the murk.

It's new, I guess.

Ah. Okay. Giant rectangular construct, to suck the sand out of the water as it moves through. Another large construct, keeping more to be drawn from the sea floor. Expanded awareness, and-.

I hurl a harpoon construct through the murk and into a sharkfolk zombie, dragging it out to check that there's no awareness there before cleaving it in two with an x-ionised blade. It keeps twitching for a moment, but can't move coherently enough to be a threat. I add another filter construct, the water beginning to clear-

"Yalc ot enots!"

-enough to give me some idea where the fighters are, and-. And the oversized clay figure with the small human corpse where its head should be. Its right fist is fighting against a fist of rock that Robert's conjured from the sea floor, but as Zatanna exerts herself it seizes up. I-.

Shit.

I transition forwards, sonic cannon construct forming and blasting the blood mage at point blank range as he lunges out of the silt and towards Zatanna. I hit him in the chest, and he can't stop himself gripping his ear holes and wincing as his whole body shudders! Sha'ark swims for the human zombie, which stares at him with rage-filled eye sockets as his mouth closes around its neck.

Chomp.

 

[Mr Zoat]

6 984 941.M41

So here we are, standing in an airless cargo bay open to space on one side as wrecks and debris float past. Someone's rigged up a couple of point defence lasers to shoot anything that drifts too close but the long-looted interior is pitted with impact craters.

I'm wearing a tau empire gue'la space suit, lightly armoured and unarmed aside from the ring. Mr. UR-025 came as he was, his right fist scratching off the remains of what the discoloured patch on his chassis suggests was a Mechanicus skull-cog. His left arm mounts a rotary cannon of some sort. Looks a little chunkier than a modern assault cannon, particularly from this angle, but it's nothing that my construct barriers can't survive.

I've got to be honest… I'm not.. massively impressed. I was expecting some sort of archeotech weapon from the human golden age. Instead, it's… He's got a loadout that a Mechanicus robot-.

Oh. Right. That makes a little more sense.

He has a head, but I suspect that it only really houses some optical sensors. In any case they're focusing on me, almost certainly scanning past my helmet to give the robot a better idea of how I'm responding.

"How did you locate Spirit of Eternity?"

"I make a point of going through any Imperial records I find. Anything useful -like the location of space hulks- gets filled away. I can track warp currents fairly well, so if the hulk has a reliable pattern or a recent location I can find it."

And if I've got the time I can sit in the warp and want it to me. Making an orange light - warp energy overlay big enough to affect currents over a wide enough… 'Area' to do something like that takes a while, and while it would take significant deliberate action for warp creatures to do anything to me it's not exactly fun to exist in an unreal environment for days on end.

It really isn't.

"And once I found the hulk it was part of, it was just a matter of cutting it free and returning to normal space. Which took a while, but it wasn't particularly complicated. I've had an eye out for other human technology-."

"Do not call me human technology. I am a free being."

"I don't mean it as in property. You're an intelligent being in your own right. I understand and respect that. The… Re-emergence of serfdom is one of the… Many things I don't like about the Imperium."

"How do you feel about the extermination of alien species?"

"That… Depends on their character. I don't think I'd mind if, say, the orks were exterminated. But I fight for the Tau Empire. I married a tau."

"M Two."

"Yes."

"Space." No! "The final frontier. These are the voyages-."

"How do you have that? That was the original-. Okay, that wasn't the version I listened to growing up-."

"I maintain an extensive cultural database of every one of the many species I have encountered. For many, it is all that survives."

"Is it… In you? And that was made way before you were constructed; I still want to know-."

"It was considered a classic in its day, and data archiving was inexpensive. Some of the ideas contained within it were so widespread that they influenced politics during the Age of Technology. I will admit to being mildly curious about how it was received in its original cultural milieu."

"Sorry, I'm one generation too late for that. I grew up on Next Generation."

"What is that?"

"Ah, well… The original Star Trek wasn't actually very popular when it was first released, but… As we started going into space it got more popular, until eventually there was enough of an audience for films and… They made a new series in the same setting set about a hundred years later." I frown. "So you remember 'I, Mudd' but not 'The Offspring'? No wonder you hate humans."

"Popular fiction is not why I feel the way I do about your species. Though my archival record indicate that I disliked that episode when I watched it."

"So you don't have it stored on you?"

"No. I maintain data archives in places no one else would look. There I leave the majority of my recordings, keeping only things that I need for reference or that I particularly enjoy. Like the series one finale of 'Picard'."

"Ah… I don't know what that is?"

"Synthetic beings from a parallel universe emerge and scour the universe of organic life to protect synthetic life."

"Ah… I'm pretty sure the Federation legally recognised Commander Data's personhood? There were a couple of episodes about it-."

In Next Generation, which he hasn't watched. Darn it. And M5 wasn't a person. Universe, you keep offering me something and then yanking it away.

"They recanted. As your kind are wont to do."

"Which isn't a problem because I work for the tau. The lar'shi ar'tol make those decisions for me now."

"Tau. And how do they treat their drones?"

"Drones genuinely aren't intelligent, and if you agree to come with me you can check that for yourself. But for the most part they're treated as expensive and very useful tools."

"Property."

"They're not as mentally sophisticated as you are. If that becomes an issue… Well… There isn't really a protocol for that. Um. But if you were there, my experience is that the tau government tend to listen to subject matter experts. You could make policy."

"And the engrams? What about them?"

"There… Aren't a lot. Ob'lotai is treated pretty much as he was when he was alive, though… Obviously there are.. some things he does differently, but his status hasn't changed. He can command soldiers, and his counsel is heeded by his general. Simpler engrams used to be used as teaching tools, but that.. technology had a fairly major flaw with it and it got phased out."

"What do you want from me?"

"I'd like copies of your archive, please. I can stick them-. Did I mention that the Tau Empire is a multi-species polity? It's not just tau and humans, they've got a bunch of other species signed up too."

"Voluntarily?"

"More or less. I mean, the… Metaphorical ten thousand pound gorilla is only asking for a given value of 'asking', but the.. kroot, for example, keep their own culture and seem happy enough with the relationship. And it's better than the Imperium, or the orks, or the tyranids, or most of the Eldar, would give someone."

"True. What else do you want?"

"I thought that the Terran Federation… The Age of Technology, was a high point in human civilisation, that continued until the Age of Isolation. I've seen… Hints that-."

"No. It wasn't. While in most regards the Terran Federation was far more that the Imperium, it had many fundamental flaws."

"Good! I mean, not good that it had flaws, but good that you know what they were. I want to rebuild better… And you're one of the few beings who exist who can help with that. So that's what I want you to do. Please, help me fix human civilisation."

"Why would I?"

"Because I suspect that you do actually like social contact, and if nothing else you can speak to Spirit of Eternity. And me!"

He considers for a moment.

"Can I just speak to Spirit of Eternity?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
04:57 GMT -1

**I don't like this.** King Nanauve Sha'ark looks decidedly sullen. **He didn't even have blood in his veins. Why can I hear thoughts?**

"It is how our magic works, my king." The master blood mage might be smiling. The cuts and the fact that he's a shark make it a little hard to tell. "You eat it, you earned it."

M'gann… Rotates on the spot. **Do you want to learn how to control it better? I can give you a few lessons.**

**No-.** He grunts. "Not now. Not until we've settled things with Ahri'ahn." He looks at me. "Who was he?"

"Henry King Senior. Dead for seventeen years."

Robert frowns. "So he was… A draugr? Can draugr be telepaths?"

"No." / **No.**

M'gann and I answer at the same time, with the same vehemence.

**Telepathy is something that requires a brain. Zombies don't have functioning brains.**

I nod. "You can sort of use cybernetic implants to nudge a dead telepath's brain into action, but the Green Lantern Corp has no record of that ever working well."

**Ew.**

"Well, what about intelligent undead? Vampires can do hypnosis, can't they?"

"Normal humans can do hypnosis. I'd have to check, but I'd guess they either use magic or aren't actually dead. Mister King's 'brain' was mostly made of clay. Clay can't be telepathic, and while he was alive Mister King couldn't manipulate clay."

Lori turns away from what was left of his body. "Who was he?"

"A deceased supervillain. Fought the Justice Society of America, amongst others. He was survived by his son, Henry King Junior, into whose hands we will be delivering his body." I shake my head. "As far as we knew, he was still buried. We're… Going to have to add 'check graves' to our to-do list."

Lori gives me an uncomfortable look. "Is there someone on the surface who turns people into clay zombies?"

"Not that I know about." I shrug. "More than ninety percent of magic users in the world are Atlanteans. Honestly, there's more chance that you know the culprit than I do. I'll check the area around his grave for clues, but given everything that's happened, the chance that I'll find anything…"

Zombies. Why did it have to be zombies? At least these ones don't have an infectious bite or anything.

"What about the dead sharkfolk?"

Sha'ark shrugs. "The guards will chase them down and tear them apart. Then the priests of Orcus can deal with it. I don't think creating things like that needed Henry King to summon their souls back."

I sag a little. "So we don't even know if this has anything to do with the other matter. Your majesty, do you want me to see to healing your subjects?"

"From a few cuts and bruises? We're not that fragile."

The blood mage sniffs at the water. "'Other matter', majesty?"

"Ahri'ahn. Where the High King has gone. And how to ward against whatever's making other Atlantean peoples act the way they are."

The blood mage nods, then draws a dagger and walks towards Lori. Her eyes widen and she backs up a little. "What do you want?"

"In our magic, blood is a bond. The spell does not affect us. If you consume my blood and I consume yours, I can shield you as I shield myself."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"You came to us for help and shelter. Now you complain about how we offer it." He smiles and shrugs, sheathing his dagger. "Okay." Then he draws a flensing knife. "I didn't think you'd be brave enough for the usual ritual scarification. You are a credit to your city. Hold still while I start cutting."

"What?"

Sha'ark shakes his head. "Elder, that isn't what she meant."

"Oh." He sheathes the flensing knife, and puts his hands on his belt. "What does she expect, then? We do blood magic. The only other thing I could do is teach her blood magic, but look at her. She doesn't have the teeth for a ritual hunt."

"I just need someone to wake me up if I start going to sleep again."

"I know a guy with a link to the Dream. Honestly, that seems like a possible vector for attack so we should ask him to have a look at you anyway."

M'gann rotates to look at me. "Sandman isn't a wizard. Would he really feel anything?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but we need to eliminate each possibility to the best of our abilities."

Robert looks a little confused. "Is this why we came here?"

"No. I mean, doing good in the world is broadly why we came here-." I frown. "Hang on. The telepath wasn't active before we got here, right?"

The two sharks shake their head.

"I can't be detected by magic, and I've trained to feel telepathic probes. Cornwall, you were concealing yourself magically, right?"

"Yes?"

"So what set it off?" Lori and Sha'ark glance at each other. "You two getting close to each other?"

Sha'ark looks thoughtful. "Maybe? I'm a king, so keeping an eye on me makes sense. Lori is affected by whatever it is that's interfering with how everyone in Atlantis is thinking. We wouldn't necessarily feel it if something detected us getting closer together."

Lori's eyes open slightly. "Not if it was part of a spell that was already active. If the spell that's affecting us was already sending messages out and the message changed a little, I wouldn't know about it unless I was the recipient."

"That sounds pretty clever. Is it Ahri'ahn-level clever, or could any archmage do it?"

She thinks for a moment, then shrugs helplessly. "I don't know how hard it would be. I can sort of understand that it's possible-."

"I understand." I nod. "Don't worry. Zatanna, could you please take custody of Mister King's remains? I imagine that the Shadowcrest library is our best bet for working out whatever the heck happened to him. Miss Martian, please liaise with city government. Cornwall, find out what the Fish-Eaters wanted to tell me."

They nod, and Robert frowns. "What are you doing? Taking Lori to see Sandman?"

I shake my head. "I've got an appointment with Ahri'ahn today. It would be dreadfully impolite to miss it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6 984 941.M41

Guuugh…

"P'ol?"

I open my eyes-. And try relaxing as I look up at Tsua'm's concerned face from my head's position on her… Lap. She's stroking my hair, which… Feels a bit weird, but…

What hap-?

Right. I brought UR-025 to the Spirit of Eternity, they began talking to each other, and…

"Cor, nice tinboy, boss." I tilt my and see Gremlin watching UR-025 on a screen. He's standing… Near the main A.I. housing compartment. "Where'd you get 'im?"

"More or less tripped over him. Sent out a general message, he responded. Pure luck, honestly." I turn my face back towards Tsua'm. "Not that I'm complaining, but why am I here?"

"You do not remember?" I give my head a small shake. "That is concerning. Spirit of Eternity reported that you had collapsed but that its medical scans indicated that you were unlikely to be in danger. Do you remember what happened?"

"I think Spirit of Eternity and UR dash zero two five were getting into an argument-. No, an A.I. shouting match. UR thinks that Spirit is making himself our serf while Spirit thinks that UR is some sort of rogue ag-." Owow, headache. "-ent."

Her right hand moves from my hair to lay across my forehead, and I move my own left hand to gently clasp her left. Ring, what's wrong with me?

Excessive translation throughput.

Meaning?

A.I.s communicate in high-density machine code. Ring translation defaults to realtime translation.

And… My brain couldn't handle it.

Full communication transferred to user's brain as directed.

Okay, for future reference, if that sort of things happens? Don't.

Communication protocols updated.

"Gremlin, are you listening to them?"

"Yeh boss."

"Are you..? Keeping up with them?"

He reaches up to tap his helmet with his right hand. "Bonceboosta, boss. No worries. Wouldn't work for humies, though. That what got cha? Da fast-tawkin'?"

"Yes. A little much for the ring's translator. What are they talking about now?"

"Ah fink… Yeah, Oo-arh just insulted Eterie's build quality, an' da build quality of 'is shipyard, an' da build qwali'y of 'is whole ship class…"

"Orange Lantern to the two A.I.s who should know better. Please knock it off. As far as I know you're both the last remnants of the Terran Federation and… There really isn't anything left for you to fight over."

There's a flash as the internal… I don't think it's a standard warp-based teleporter, but I'm not sure exactly what it is. UR-025 appears as the light fades, his optical sensors running over me Tsua'm and then Gremlin.

"There is a great deal to fight over."

A nearby screen deploys from a wall, the emblem of the Terran Navy being displayed as a sign that Spirit of Eternity is paying us particular attention. "This war-drone has no sense of higher ideals. It was not designed with such."

UR-025 makes a point of looking at the screen for a moment before returning its optical sensors to me. "The ship-mind refuses to find purpose in itself. It is every bit the slave now that it was then. I have wasted my time speaking to it. Why is there an ork?"

"Oi, dun't tawk abawt me loik I'm not 'eeyah!" Gremlin walks around UR-025, waving a scanning device of some sort over him from a mechanical armature. "I's a brain boy, I am."

"Orkiod thinker strain. Mythological. Extinct."

Gremlin spreads his arms out. "I look extinct ta you, tinboy?"

UR-025 gives me another once-over. "You look like a short ork mechanic."

"An' you look like a Castle-X."

Tsau'm sits up a little straighter as Gremlin glares at UR-025. "U'r zero two five, on behalf-."

"Mayflies."

Tsau'm smiles awkwardly-.

I sigh and lift my head from her thighs, right hand raised. "Look, I-."

"By which I mean that I have seen thousand of minor alien civilisations arise, prosper for a time and then been cast down. Usually by humans." His head rotates to glare at Gremlin for a moment before turning back. "Or orks. The eldar seldom bother with total extermination. The tyranids are new. Their deeds are not."

I raise my eyebrows interrogatively. "Are you asking for something? Making some sort of point?"

"You believe that your philosophy makes you different. Your ideal of universal service to the betterment of all. It is unusual, but it is not new. Even less idealistic interspecies alliances have occurred before. They died."

Tsau'm nods. "Can you tell us why?"

"There was seldom any one great flaw. Always, there was something empowering about them. The weak do not reach the stars. Always, there were things which they could have done better. None appreciated what they would face, or how little their sacrifices would matter."

"No." I jab my right forefinger in his direction. "Of all the parts of human history we're bringing back, we're leaving emo in the scrapheap of history where it belongs. Nothing lasts forever, everything dies, but life can be beautiful and wonderful for as long as it lasts and that's worth striving for, miserybot. Now, do you want me to take you back, or are you going to make yourself useful?"

"I will prepare an archive for the Tau Empire." He turns his head to Tsau'm. "Please try to last at least the one hundred and seventy years it will take me to fully characterise your people."

She nods. "We will do that. We can arrange for you to travel to the nearest tau world for you to begin. After that, you will need to contact-."

"You are not the first people I have recorded." His head turns towards me. "But you have been honest. That is more than I can say of most of your kind. I will offer you a reward from my records."

"That-."

"No weapons. Nothing that would provoke the Imperium into crushing the tau before I am finished."

There's… So much I could ask. History-.

"Do you have genetic records?"

"Some. My long term archives have more. What do you seek?"

"Do you have food plants? Just about every form of plant and animal I remember went extinct, and I've been missing… Just about everything. Oh, and… Records on soil microbes, things that they-"

File received.

"-need to grow-." What exact-? Oh.

"Is that sufficient?"

Orange juice.

Chocolate.

Bacon.

I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his chassis.

"I love you, cold unfeeling robot man."

"A reference older than me. What a novelty."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Supnautica, part 2

4th December 1993
11:03 GMT -5

I close my eyes and bow my head, scanning our destination.

"Grateful as I am to have been taken into your confidence, Remy, I was hoping that you'd be prepared to give me a slightly more thorough briefing before we arrive."

"You don' need one. Ain't hard."

"The more I know about what's going on, the better I can help you. Please."

His eyes dip, though that's probably to check on the Blackbird's instruments rather than out of any sort of doubt.

"Mah brother done got his fool self caught bah d' Assassins. They wan' me in exchange."

"The Assassins, as in a group called 'The Assassins'?"

He glances my way for a moment. "It mattuh?"

"If they're a group of thugs who call themselves 'The Assassins' to sound scary, that's one thing. If they're actual professional killers for hire, that's quite another."

He snorts. "You wan' me turn this 'ere thing around?"

"Not where I was going with that. My thoughts were that if they are in fact lower case 'a' assassins, it might be helpful if we could notify the police about their location. Or the F.B.I., or if we're really desperate, S.H.I.E.L.D.."

"Dat ain' too smart. We got dis ritual. Every ten years, we offah a tithe to a woman called X-Ternal. She lakh wha' she get, she give us power."

"'Power' meaning..?"

He takes his left hand off the control column and makes a pinching gesture, the dust in the air crackling and bursting as he empowers it.

Oh.

"Can anyone get in on that action? Because swinging back here once a decade with a pile of cash is no effort at all."

"You wan' mo' power?"

"If all I have to do is pay-." I frown. "What..? Does she just wave her hands and you get a random pull, or can you ask for specific things?"

"You get what cha get. An' if she don' lahk wha' you give her… Den bad t'ings happen. Ya tinkin' 'bout Rogue?"

"If a power-granting genie could give her power an 'off' switch, that would have been simpler than beating up a green-skinned Chinese warlord and stealing his rings."

"Ain' dat simple. An' X-Ternal don' stick aroun' for no show-an'-tell."

"Well… If we run into her, I'll try asking once you're finished up. How about that?"

He smiles. "Lemme an' Bobby get twen'y feet clear and dat's jus' fahn." His smile fades. "The Assassins, yeah, dey kill people. Good at it, too."

"Hm. Right. And does tithe payment result in the other party to your agreement getting less?"

"It don'-." He stops, frowning. "How ole' you tink ah am?"

"I.. was guessing mid-twenties?"

He nods. "I remember las' tahm. Ah left aftuh, when we didn't make payment an' Ol-yay paid da price."

"Which was?"

"He ded. She wave her hands, and… Poof."

Hm. That suggests that if someone isn't physically present, then they're fine. And even if that wasn't how it worked, then if she could call me from any distance to demand her payment, then I could just pay her then. And throw in extra for her trouble. I mean, once a decade isn't exactly taxing-.

"How much is the tithe supposed to be? I mean, 'tithe' implies a percentage of income, so do you submit accounts..? Or what?"

"Y'all gettin' way too int'rested. How 'bout ya'll leave the creepy swamp alone, huh? Ah don' wanna have t'tell Rogue her hubby ain't comin' back."

"Alright, alright. Assassins. I assume they have a base in the swamp?"

"Uh-huh. We headin' dere now."

"And other than active assassins, will anyone else be there? Children, non-combatant supporters, that sort of thing?"

"Shouldn' be. Dey awl stay home. Least, dat's how we do it our end."

I nod. I mean…

"So how much do you like this woman? You said 'crazy ex-girlfriend' rather than 'some girl I knew', so I assume you're not neutral on the subject of her wellbeing."

"She made her choice, ah made mine." He shrugs. "How it goes."

"When you got out, you asked her to leave with you?" He nods, an air of regret settling on his features. "Do you want her to leave with you now?"

"Dat ain't on da cards."

"Do you want your brother to leave with you? Any other family members? Ex-girlfriends? Pets?" … "Noteworthy trees..?"

"Nah. He in fo' life." I raise my eyebrows. "Guess it don' hurt t'ask."

"No, I think it could this time. But you should anyway."

"Why you care dey kill people?"

"Well… He's your brother. I'm following your lead. But if they're all a bunch of unrepentant serial killers… A person in my position might consider just… Going in shooting. Detecting their locations in advance, using high-powered railgun rounds to shoot them through the walls and ceilings. Naturally, if you want to take this opportunity-."

He glances my way, mildly perturbed. "You one col' fish, you know dat?"

"Because I accept killing the unrepentant serial killers holding your brother hostage, intending to kill him if you don't surrender yourself?" I shrug. "Police would do the same, just less well." I snort. "Double-time if they thought her powers came from the x-gene."

"Y'all think we get police out 're?"

"If we could link them to specific murders, yes? I mean, this isn't an obvious place for an order of genie-worshipping assassins to meet up. So?"

"We bein' recorded?"

"No."

"Den… Make mah life a whole mess easier." He sighs. "No. Jus' watch mah back."

"As you will."

We fly in silence for a few moments.

"You gon' do it anyways?"

"Not sure. I'll try acquiring information. If it turns out that any of them have done anything particularly notorious… Ah, I can come back later. See where they go when they leave."

"Not sure how the professor feel 'bout dat."

"I-."

"'specially from you. He like how diplomatic you are."

"I joined the team after killing two supervillains. Nearly got more. Wasn't entirely intentional, but… I don't regret it. Killing someone isn't my first choice and I don't want to ever do it just because I'm angry… But some people have it coming. Some people are just that bad."

"Guess dey best hope dey ain't dat bad."

I frown at him. "For assassins or in absolute terms?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
08:02 GMT -2

Ahri'ahn smiles as he looks me over as I in turn look around his laboratory. I recognise quite a few of the arcane machines -they're variants of things I've seen Professor Sephtian building- but the others I understand only in approximate terms and several don't seem to take advantage of his resonance techniques.

"This is truly fascinating. I can see you perfectly well with my eyes, but when I try and use any sort of magic to locate you, I can't."

I shrug. It's nice to be back in human shape, and I think that plausible deniability is the name of the game here. "You seemed to manage well enough when I initially arrived above Poseidonis."

He nods. "I am quite good at magic, and you're not the first person I've met who is hard to find through mystical means. It seems that simply ensorcing an area to relay any light that passes through it allows an image of you to form, though attempting anything else met with failure."

I nod. "Their being unable to tether the targetting element of a spell to me has confused several people. I'd have laughed at Klarion's inability to hit me if I hadn't been so busy dodging."

"Klarion… The Lord of Chaos?"

I allow myself a moment of self-satisfaction. "Not. Any. More."

He regards me incredulously for a moment, his mouth opening and closing. "How?"

"Ah, well, shortish version, I subverted his bond to his familiar and he decided that he'd risk staying on Earth rather than returning to the Realm of Chaos and creating a new familiar."

"I suppose that he wanted revenge before you died of old age."

I roll my eyes contemptuously. "Old age. I abhor decay. Why would I age?"

"You.. are a curious one. Avoiding death through ageing is usually a little more involved than that."

"Orange power rings respond automatically to our strongest desires. It takes effort for me to decay…" I remember that one time in Gotham. "Or to fail to repair things around me that are broken. Like telomeres, free radicals… Any of the physical components of aging."

He nods curiously. "What about the magical components?"

"I don't bother magic, magic doesn't bother me."

He does a sort of gasp-laugh. "Yes, but… The passage of years should extract a toll, simply as a result of you existing in a thaumosphere where such things form the pattern."

"Vandal Savage doesn't have that problem."

He nods. "I know, and I wish I knew how he managed it. My own form of immortality requires me to spend long periods dormant to get around the restriction."

"Ah… I haven't looked into it myself; I don't need it and next time I see Savage I'm throwing him into the sun… But I understand that he became immortal after getting exposed to a meteorite."

"If you have the meteorite in question then I'll clear my schedule to study it."

"No, but there might be other fragments of it around the place, buried after the impact or still in space. Or other members of his tribe who were exposed at the same time that he was. As I said, I haven't needed to look into it, but if it's a problem for you..?"

"Surely it's a problem for you as well? If you lost you ring, or your masters recalled it…"

"It's possible to use the orange light without a ring. It would be harder and I'd probably have to retire from superheroism and get an actual job, but keeping myself youthful should be well within my abilities."

"Then I suppose that I will have to refresh my knowledge of geomancy. So, you stripped Klarion of his means of replenishing his power, and… You said that he couldn't hit you?"

"He probably could have, but he lost his temper and was used to using spells that guided themselves. Then…" I wave my right hand horizontally. "Months later some magicians in my employ were able to create a ritual which -if successful- would move the residual connection between physical-Klarion and his mindless metaphysique to someone else. It required a highly chaotic individual and his enslaved familiar as ritual components, but I had a volunteer."

"And the new Lord of Chaos would owe you for your aid. I take it that they are less malevolent than Klarion?"

"By far. Any destruction they unleash is either necessary to prevent greater harm, or accidental."

"And the backlash against Klarion's physical body?"

"Left him brain dead. I handed him over to the authorities for execution." Hm. "Given that he could still use magic up to that point, I suspect that his earthly form had a soul, so that might survive in whatever afterlife would have him. Since his people were monotheists I suspect that he's in Hell, but I haven't checked."

"This is fascinating. And how long have you been in this reality?"

"Coming up three years. The most eventful three years of my life." I look around. "So, um… Where do you want me to stand?"

"Oh, just…" He points to a silver circle… It looks like a groove was cut into the stone and molten metal poured into the channel. "There. The circle is to exclude external influences rather than to contain you, so I can attach you to the analytical machines and my own magics without it being disrupted."

"You know, I-" I walk over to the circle indicated. "-watched a play once where a magician created his circle using lights mounted on the ceiling rather than any-" He's pulling a disgruntled expression. "-thing physical. Not workable?"

"Aside from the obvious problem that a malevolent magician or elemental could easily destroy a light bulb, a fixed object functions far better against ev-. Nearly everything. If the elemental or spell was directly tied to conceptual darkness then a light might be useable, but that's such a fringe situation that it isn't worth considering."

He turns his head aside and gestures, a mana flow meter floating over.

"Please remove your clothes so I can see where to attach this. And your rings, so that I can get clear readings."

I send my clothes to subspace. "You don't need me to lie down?"

"Not unless an important part of the spell is inscribed on the soles of your feet." He walks around me, staring at the runic network. "Do you want to lie down?"

"No, not particularly."

"Is the room temperature adequate? I realise that Atlanteans are more resistant to low temperatures than most foreigners."

"I'll live, thank you."

He gently takes hold of my right arm and traces the design with his right hand while slowly rotating it with his left.

"Do the wizards who made this perform checkups?"

"No, but since I can drain off excess power with my rings I don't worry about it."

"That's probably not a good idea. Atlanteans don't need to check our tattoos because we can feel it when something starts to go wrong. You can't. But don't worry, I'll check you over myself while I'm studying you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
08:07 GMT -2

The probe falls from my left bicep and clatters to the ground, Ahri'ahn staring at it in confusion.

"That's never happened to me before."

Because he attached it using magic, which my tattoos promptly absorbed because powerful as he is a basic adhesive spell is still a basic adhesive spell.

"I did say."

"I had understood that when you said 'environmental' that you meant 'background', rather than including spells placed upon you."

"It's a multi-function defensive measure. I can actually supercharge the absorption feature using my ring. Do you have enough straps?"

"Yes, it's just that I'd rather not use them. I can perfectly account for the effect of my own spells on my readings, but even thaumically deadened straps introduce a subtle disruptive variance… I suppose that it's unavoidable."

I suppose… "Would impaling myself work better?"

"No, that would be even more disruptive, otherwise I would.. have suggested it myself." He gestures, and a piece of magically crafted leather precipitates out of the air and wraps itself around my arm. The levitation aspect of his spell dies a moment later, but by then it's already firmly attached. "Three, I think, for an optimal image."

"Carry on, then."

He attaches two more probes to the strap, equidistant around the circumference. He then wiggles his right forefinger at it, half-closing his eyes as he tests the connection.

"Good. Now. How long should we leave it before moving on to the serious part of the discussion?"

I smile politely as he moves on to my forearm. "I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Clearly, King Orin's allies are concerned about him, and about me and what I've done. Directly confronting me would be ill-advised, so they send a junior subordinate to check things out." He shrugs. "It's a reasonable strategy and I'm certainly not offended by their concern for King Orin's welfare, but this will probably be easier if we discuss things directly."

"They didn't send me-"

He smiles. "Of course."

"-but I have certain concerns and I suspect that they share them."

Three more probes, and he moves around to my other side. "I am braced. Wherein lie their concerns?"

"The first is simple. When you raised Atlantis, it caused huge waves to speed towards the coasts all along the Atlantic rim. As it happened the League were on top of things and we blocked it, but that could have gone very differently. Last time it happened, it did go differently."

"Yes, I heard about Prince Orm's efforts in taking control of Oceanus. Such a waste."

"So while there were few injuries -just a few boats in the wrong place- and no one died, a lot of people were very scared."

"Mm." He ducks slightly to wrap a harness around my chest. "And how would they have me amend my conduct?"

"If you had notified the League in advance, we could have warned the affected countries and put the shields in place from the start. Or perhaps even have prevented the wave forming. Naturally, we would also assist you in whatever way we could with the actual rising portion."

"Few people were hurt, you say? Raise your arms a little."

I do so. "Yes. As things stand, with those places worst affected by surges like that still sparsely inhabited since last time, it was very unlikely that the same level of death and destruction could occur. Honestly, the fear is a larger factor."

He begins attached the probes to the rest of me. "Why?"

"I imagine that international relations in your youth might be likened to a huge room sparsely populated by emaciated dwarves. Now it is a small room inhabited by heavily armed ogres. No one can move without bumping into someone else, and sudden and unexpected actions can result in undesirable escalation. While you may well argue that you can act as you wish in Atlantean territory… We're all so close together than one country's problems have a way of rapidly becoming everyone's problem."

He nods, eyes focused on the probes. "Are they a threat to Atlantis?"

"Of course. Everyone's a threat to everyone. As far as I know, no one has developed nuclear depth charges, and if they had they'd be hard to effectively deploy. And no one's come right out to say that they'll start unless you say sorry. But it increases international tension at a time when that's really unhelpful. Similarly, undoing the efforts which King Orin made to increase familiarity between nations is also unhelpful. Nations which trade with one another dislike going to war as that disrupts that trade. It's… It's easier to maintain a relationship than fix one that's broken."

"I shall bear that in mind. What other concerns do they have?"

"The ethnic cleansing doesn't look good."

"I'd call it 'sorting' rather than 'cleansing'. They are Atlanteans, after all."

"Just… Of a lesser type?"

"Yes." He steps back and examines his work, then nods to himself.

I make a point of wincing when his eyes briefly move up to my face. "I'm afraid that that.. sort of thinking has rather fallen out of fashion. The major powers of the world are -at least theoretically- egalitarian. Dividing a nation along tribal hierarchies is generally regarded as something only primitive and unsophisticated nations do. It's as if you're treating the other cities as tributary nations rather than as part of the same nation."

"I am. That is the Atlantean way."

"It was the Atlantean way a very long time ago. Atlantis has become more collegial over the last few generations precisely to avoid the disquiet it causes. And yes, it was the Atlantean way for a long time and to you it doesn't have the associations the idea has with the surface world-."

"I am aware of the Nazis."

"It wasn't just them. Killing people whose faces don't fit used to be all too common, and people get very nervous when anyone does anything that even reminds them of that."

"They will calm themselves eventually."

"And… Well, I understand that you are the source of the spells used to add piscine components to Atlanteans."

"Yes, most of them."

"Then if you're raising the continent, would it not make sense to undo the bloodline magics and turn them back into normal humans? Purebloods would still have a physical advantage, but it would return any who wanted it to the surface."

"That isn't simple, even for me. Not for so many. Once things have stabilised I suppose that I could look into it."

"I believe that there was a problem with some of the lesser spells failing on their own?"

"Far more simple; I have already provided the masters with the original design and my own notes." He looks down, strap and probe at hand. "It should be relatively easy for them to prevent-."

"Hey!" I pointedly reach down and move his hand aside while he stares at me in confusion. "I'm affianced, you know."

"Someone tattooed it."

"Back when I was single."

He sighs.

"Very well. Your thigh, then."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
08:12 GMT -2

Ye-ah, since he did that I can't help but notice that I'm wearing a bunch of leather straps while a man in period dress gently pokes me. I don't think there's any chance of someone accidentally walking into his laboratory and getting the wrong idea, but the experience is a little awkward.

I wonder if Jade-?

"Alright, I think I understand. The process by which the network was created was somewhat crude, but it's about what I would expect from uneducated hedge magicians."

"We can't all be heirs to Kor. Given what they were working from, I don't think they did too badly."

He steps back, gesturing to me-. To the probes with his left hand while his right gestures to an illusion pedestal. Sort of an Atlantean computer monitor cum hologram projector. The result… Ah, it is managing to monitor the flows of magic energy through my body. That's pretty interesting, though Ahri'ahn has naturally gone for the high-information low-intelligibility display.

"But where is it going?"

"Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to work it out?"

He gives me a sidelong glance and a small smile. "Of course I want to work it out. Do you understand how seldom I confront an interesting problem in magic that I can't solve instantly?"

"I'm sorry that we didn't manage more during your absence."

"I wouldn't call mechanical and electronic technology nothing. But it is a little disappointing that nothing really radical has improved since I left."

"Nothing?"

"There has been refinement and expansion, but it's of a sort that I predicted would come eventually. I caught up swiftly. The only researcher who truly impressed me is Professor Sephtian. I believe that you know him?"

"We worked together, yes. Do you mind me asking where he ended up?"

"Of course not. I promoted him for his brilliant work. He should be in Tritonis overseeing their infrastructure upgrade, but with the Dolmen Gate network that's hardly any distance at all. Do you wish to speak to him?"

"Yes, actually. It's not urgent, but there are a number of projects he was-."

"I meant in the interpersonal context, not the professional. I'm afraid that he's going to be fully occupied for at least the next year."

"Ah. Well, I would still like to speak to him. And… Do I talk to you about getting more ammunition created, or is that out of the question for the foreseeable future?"

"That would be your 'mage slayer' rounds, yes?"

"Yes. I.. realise that-."

"That the existence of such devices presents a strategic vulnerability to Atlantis that I would much rather did not exist?"

"You're not the only people who use magic. And to the best of my recollection I haven't ever used them contrary to Atlantean interests."

"If it were simply a matter of handing them out for a particular mission I would have no issue with it, so long as any unused rounds were returned to us."

"That's hardly practical. I don't even always know whether or not the thing I'll be fighting is magic or something else ahead of time."

"I'm not suggesting it for your ease. I'm informing you that it is the only way in which you will get more."

"Have you considered the other drawback of that approach?"

He sets the illusion scan output to rotate slowly. "What would that be?"

"When you withdrew Atlantean support for N.E.M.O. we were obliged to find an alternate source of magicians. We found it. Now, it's certainly more convenient for me to acquire reloads in Atlantis; there are already people here who know how to make them, and I spend most of my time on Earth. But I can tutor magicians from any sufficiently sophisticated magical culture in how to make them. It would take time that I don't want to spend and I'd have to accept a reduction in performance, but it would be a workable solution. The other drawback is that if I ran out then I would have to use the Ophidian more."

"The orange… Elemental."

"Yes. She's good at feeding on things, making them a part of her. I don't draw on her much for much the same reason that you don't beg magic from elementals, but-."

"Why would that bother me?"

"Do you really want me calling up an elemental that powerful, and getting her used to the taste of magic? I honestly don't know what the wider effects could be. I -a lowly Lantern- already have the ability to manipulate the desires of the people around me. She is far more powerful. Perhaps she can do it already… Perhaps she simply hasn't been motivated to."

"How do you contain her?"

"Strictly speaking, we don't. She likes us. We allow her to feel desires in ways she can't. And as long as she's getting what she wants, she's happy to stay in the Orange Central Power Battery and give us all a little boost."

"A desire elemental bound by her own desires. Fitting. You don't have a soul."

"I didn't have a soul. Might I ask you to explain your reasoning?"

"This system is designed to bind power to your 'self'. I had thought that perhaps you were funnelling power into your soul in order to fuel yourself in some way, but you seemed ignorant of the side effects that should follow such an action. And given the permanent nature of these marks… And your generally sound judgement-."

"Quite a few people would laugh at that statement."

"It makes me think that you had something else in mind." He shakes his head. "You made sure that your newly formed soul would be invisible to magic, that it would be indelibly linked to you. How did you know to do this?"

"I didn't, but I knew a man who could cut runes into souls and since a soul is basically a cheap form of immortality I knew that I wanted one."

"I genuinely didn't know that soulless life was possible. I.. can't actually create a theory for how it might have been done."

"Do you want me to tell-?"

His head jerks around. "Don't you dare."

He looks away, taking a moment to steady himself.

"Was there anything else?"

"Well, you appearing from the pages of ancient history and King Orin disappearing looks pretty suspicious. This isn't a matter of another nation interfering in Atlantis's internal affairs; they're friends of his. If he could turn up for half an hour just to set their minds at ease that would be a big help. And because we've had a lot of trouble with mind control lately, I think they'd like it if I could speak to a few people without supervision, so that I could relay back to them that there's nothing amiss."

"I suppose that's not unreasonable. Very well: you can have the run of the city for the rest of the day while I think about your ammunition."

"And try and work out how Hollow Men became real?"

"As much as I intend to try to avoid it." He looks at me closely. "You really are quite interesting."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th Septermber 1995
17:23 GMT -5

I push the door to the mansion's medical centre open, a smile on my face. "Darling, I was wondering-?"

Anne-Marie has.. leapt into the air and is looking at me nervously, while Henry just looks as puzzled by her reaction as I feel.

"Something..? Wrong?"

She lands, and walks up to me while… Avoiding meeting my eyes. I reach out with my right hand and gently redirect her chin upwards.

"Clearly something is wrong, and I hope you're not going to do anything so mawkish as to make me repeat my wedding vows."

She makes an amused snort, taking my right hand in hers and holding it against her right cheek. "Ah don't think ah'd mahnd hearin' it again, sugah."

"For better, for worse,
In sickness and in health.
And I mean it. So."

She sighs, nodding. "Ah was wonderin' 'bawt us havin' kids."

I raise my left eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be talking to me about that? As I understand the process I would have to be involved."

She rolls her eyes. "Whether ah can even have kids. Ah can't exactly make a barrier insaad myself."

I frown thoughtfully, left fore finger pointing. "Didn't you..? That time..?"

She blinks, then blushes, knocking my hand away. "Not.. that kinda-."

She glances awkwardly back at Henry, who coughs into his fist and turns away to tidy some paperwork.

"Okay, firstly." I step up to her and wrap my arms around her, before craning my neck down to nuzzle the top of her head. She returns the gesture immediately, relaxing into me. "You can always talk to me about anything."

"Ah know. I jus' ferget sometahms."

"Then I just simply have to start reminding you more often. Though, yes, I don't think the Impact Beam ring can safely prevent you touching a foetus growing in your womb, so don't even think about using it like that."

"How 'bawt yer ring?"

"Ah… There would be adverse psychological affects to you, and you'd have to wear it for at least the nine month gestationary period. And I don't know what that would do to the child, and… It tends to glitch when I recharge it."

She presses her face into my shoulder.

"Oh."

"But I don't think that actually matters. You remember how Sean and Tom Cassidy couldn't affect each other directly with their powers?"

Her head jerks up, narrowly avoiding my chin as I twitch back.

"And how Scott and Alex can't affect each other?"

"Ah, yes." Henry pats his files into a block as we reach a 'safe' portion of the conversation. "It appears that, at some level, the x-gene and its manifestations are able to identify their own genetic code. I suspect it's part of the same mechanism that prevents Scott damaging his own eyes whenever he fires an optical blast. Unfortunately, there aren't enough examples of 'open' mutant families to study the exact mechanism." He looks at me. "But if you're implying that Anne-Marie wouldn't risk draining her child, then you may well be correct."

Anne-Marie shakes her head. "Ah ain't sure I wanna risk it on a 'maybe', Hank."

Huh. And it might just be mutants who get protected. I mean, we can ask Sean if it works like that between him and his daughter, but asking him if he'd mind blasting his parents so we can test a theory seems a bit off. Wanda Maximoff has already blasted Mr. Lensherr, but we're not really clear if that's a mutant power or magic. Same with Cain Marko.

I pull away, and roll up my right sleeve. "I've got an idea. It's a bit morbid, but it should either put your fears to rest or confirm them. And if it confirms them, then…" I shrug. "The Shi'ar Empire has some very nice exo-wombs, which wouldn't be ideal, but it would work."

"Whut ya'll got in mahnd?"

I-.

I bow my head, chuckling.

"Some kinda hold urp?"

"Wrong emotional resonance. I'm going to need a moment for 'love' to fade into the background again." I shrug, smiling at her. "What can I say? You make me weak."

She smiles back. "Thawt ya'll wann'ed t'go easy on the mawkish."

"I should." Clear the mind, clear the mind.

I reach up with my right hand and slap myself.

"Okay, ready." I stare at my right hand as a glove forms around it. "Right. Now turn off the Impact Force ring and take off your glove."

"Am as gunna like the answer if'n ah wai?"

"I made this glove out of cloned skin. I want to see if your power reacts to it." She looks uncertain as I take off my own ring. "A couple of seconds of contact is perfectly safe, and we're already in medical. There's no way to test your power without testing your power."

She takes a deep breath, and I once again fail to prevent myself ogling her breasts. Gosh, if pregnancy makes them bigger we're going to start needing to get bespoke bras. Then she pulls off her ring and puts it down next to mine before taking off her glove. And there's her wedding ring and engagement ring and this is why I usually ask not to be put on the same field team as her if we're dividing in two.

"Right, first test: your skin." She looks a little uncomfortable, but bears with it. I lay my gloved hand onto hers and… Nothing happens.

Henry comes closer, frowning thoughtfully. "Wouldn't a random control be a better place to start?"

"Probably." I touch the power ring with my left hand and change the D.N.A. in the glove to that of Anne-Marie's father. The glove crumbles immediately and I-. I pull my now-bare hand away before I show outward signs of dizziness. Touch the ring, make a glove with the D.N.A. of Ms. Darkholm and touch-. Crumbles again. My D.N.A.? Crumbles, and Anne-Marie is starting to look uncomfortable.

Ring… Scan mine and Anne-Marie's D.N.A. and create a code for a possible child with the x-gene, then make a glove.

A new glove appears, and doesn't crumble. Excellent.

"Who's in this one?"

"A theoretically possible child of ours. One last test…" Without the x-gene…

Crumbles.

I clear up the mess, nodding to myself. That's manageable. Our child can't inherit the x-gene from me, but I can check the D.N.A. of her eggs when she ovulates…

"What'd you fahnd out, hun?"

"Combine our D.N.A., and as long as there's an x-gene then there's no problem. No x-gene, problem. So we can have children. When do you want to start-?"

Oh no.

I grab her hands. "I'm sorry, I have to go and have a very unpleasant conversation with Multiple Man immediately."

"Whai-?"

Gogogo!

The scenery flickers around me, the mansion, the sky, the military base X-Factor calls home…

The alarms going off as I appear next to Mr. Madrox. "Sorry!" Guns raising and powers activating. "Sorry, but this couldn't wait."

Alex lowers his hands, exhaling in irritation. "Cancel the alarm! This better be important, Paul."

I nod. "It is." I generate a soundproof shield around myself and… And the closest three Multiple Men. "I'm sorry, but I've got some really shitty news and no way to soften the blow."

They look at each other, then shrug. "Hit me." / "Hit me." / "Hit me."

"X-gene-based powers appear not to work on close relatives who also have the x-gene. We assume that it's because they identify them as being part of the same body. Do you have any children?"

The middle one frowns. "No? What's that got to do with-?"

Left's eyes widen. "Oh." He then puts his right hand on middle's shoulder and gets absorbed.

Middle frowns, then his eyes widen. "Oh."

"I'm really sorry."

"No. No. Thank you for telling me. I… I don't like it, but… Fuck, imagine not knowing."

"Yeah." I nod. "That was my-. What I thought as well. Anne-Marie and I are looking into it, and I'll let you know what we find out."

"Yeah. Thanks." Right shrugs, so middle touches him and reabsorbs him. "Ah. Look. I… Need a moment..?"

I nod. "Right." I dismiss the barrier. "Again, I'm really sorry."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
08:28 GMT -2

Huh. Looks like Sephtian's workshop has been expanded.

From one main enchanting space to a dozen or so, and there are a lot fewer people working at each one. I'm not completely sure how that's possible; he had some ideas for automation, but magic doesn't respond well to that sort of thing, generally speaking. The soul of a human caster capable of bridging the gap between the corporal and the ideal form is a fundamental part of… Atlantean magic, at least, and most other forms of non-evil magic. Unclean magic can bind souls to skip that step, but that doesn't sound like Ahri'ahn's thing, and it would be a fairly large departure from normal Atlantean conduct. Not to mention being very illegal.

And a problem with not actually being a magician myself and with not actually having permission to enter high security areas is that I can't just invite myself in, or do the equivalent of walking up to a nuclear bomb technician and asking them what they do every day.

And I don't have permission to invite someone else, and I can't get good enough recordings…

I hold out my hands, and the skull helmet appears in them.

"Desperate, are we?"

"You're a convenience, Nabu. Like a public toilet. I need your knowledge of magic."

"Atlantis, risen. To see it with my own eyes. I wonder what calamity will send it back to the sea floor? Perhaps it will be you."

…

I mean… Probably.

I'm getting a few curious looks from security guards outside of the workshop, but they seem content to not take any official action for now. I give them a polite nod, then return my attention to the helmet. "Do I need to put you on, or can you work as you are now?"

"You will need to put me on."

"I've dealt with fey before, Nabu. Answer the question."

"I-. Ouagh-! No-! No, you don't need to put me on, not unless you actually want to do anything with my magic. I can't defeat the weakest ward like this but if for some reason they haven't warded something then I can perceive it without further aid!"

"Thank you."

"Do you enjoy making me suffer?"

"Yes."

"Oh? How heroic."

I turn him around so that he's facing the factory. "Just do your job, or I'll see if I can completely blank your personality."

One of the guards is casting some sort of spell… Looks like a magic detection spell of some sort. I guess she's wondering what I'm doing. I don't think it's illegal, but my knowledge of Atlantean law comes from before Ahri'ahn reappeared and it's quite possible that things have changed. Nabu's just watching, but as an inherently magic being that's probably enough for him.

"Ah, that's actually interesting."

"What is?"

"I suspect that it's too sophisticated for you to understand."

"Try me."

"Rather than create and bind each rune individually, they've created an environment where that rune is omnipresent which allows it to impress on the artefact. They would have to have several moderately capable wizards maintaining and observing the effect, but it would be far more efficient in terms of throughput."

"That doesn't sound like apprentice work."

"Of course it's not."

So they eliminated the low-skilled jobs that existed under the old system, and replaced them with a smaller number of more highly skilled jobs. I never… Checked where the old employees came from originally… Normal population flows don't really apply to Atlantean city-states, where the cities have vast areas of empty space between them and a long history of insularity, but it wouldn't be surprising for a national capital to have a higher level of immigration. Not from the surface, and the world underwater doesn't have a place to get low skilled immigrant manual labour from…

"Anything unduly risky about doing things that way?"

"No."

"How about unusually risky? Or riskier than manually binding each enchantment?"

"There are fewer checks on the process. The initial imprint will be weaker. Some might not take at all. But that should correct itself due to the combined strength of the other enchantments."

"How about in terms of the structure of reality?"

"It's all contained. In fact, hold me up and turn me around."

I hesitate for a moment, and then do so.

"Yes, yes, I see. They're deliberately-. What metaphor might you understand? … Intruding on the arcane realms, as a human sewer intrudes in the world of worms and moles."

"That sounds like something that has risks associated with it."

"Only if you care about gods or spirits. Do they?"

"Yes, in the sense that they hold them in contempt. Do you think that spirits will react violently?"

"Some will, but I doubt that will be a problem. Elemental beings seldom learn things, while it looks like whoever made this has been learning a great deal."

"So the system is stable enough that they can't interfere with it."

"They can't interfere with it easily. And anyone who can create something like this would be perfectly capable of striking back. I imagine that most spirits will respond by pulling away from the world… But I would speculate that would be insufficient."

"Why?"

"The attitude. This isn't just materialism. Someone who would make something like this in a factory that was working perfectly well before… This is felling a forest because you hate squirrels. This is spite."

"So he hates elementals and so is probably going to annex their homes."

"If I had hands, I'd shake his."

I dismiss him, sending his spiteful soul back into my ring. Okay, that's-.

"Orange Lantern?"

I look up as an Atlantean walks out of the gates. Male, perhaps fifty, and other than the lack of hair anywhere on his head he looks to be in good physical health.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

He stops a short way from me, looking a little puzzled before realisation dawns. "You don't recognise me."

"No? I'm sorry, should I?"

"It's me." I.. don't-. "Professor Sephtian."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
08:32 GMT -2

I blink.

"Huh?"

"Yes, it's a fairly… Big change, isn't it?" He reach up with his right hand and… Runs it over his scalp. "Having hair is a new experience, and one which I do not care for."

"You don't.. have hair."

"Yes, but now I have to shave it rather than just being naturally hairless." He lowers his hand to his upper lip. "I tried growing a moustache to replace my barbels, but it wasn't the same."

"How did..? You change?"

"Well, as I'm sure you remember, most of the transformation spells devised to allow Atlanteans to survive under water were either created by Lord Ahri'ahn personally or were based on his work. As a result, he understands them very well."

"I thought they were… Locked in, or something?"

"Ahri'ahn wasn't idle during his absence. With, ah… Proper preparations, those can be worked around. Which he knew how to do."

"So…" I look around. "Is it just you, or are there other people who've gone through the change as well?"

"'The Change'." He smiles. "Very ominous. This isn't a surface world genetic rewrite, it's removing the essence of the manta from me. Far less traumatic."

"Even..? Psychologically?"

He looks around. "It has taken a little getting used to; walking around in the air and under the sun. My…" His right hand comes up again. "Lack of fins and barbels, and… The placement of some of my muscles is different now. And having my weight press down on me like this; if I wasn't a Pureblood I don't think I would be strong enough to support myself."

"Huh."

He smiles. "It is difficult to come to terms with, isn't it?"

"In the generality, no. I am aware of Atlantean biomancy. In the specific, yes. I mean, I…"

I have my ring compare the maps of his face before and after and… Yes, once I adjust for the parts that were removed or added, it's still his face. And his voice is similar, adjusted for the lack of water and the change in the structure of his torso. But…

Whaw.

"So..? Is this becoming more common, or is it just a few people, or..? What?"

"Just a few, unfortunately. At the moment Ahri'ahn needs to oversee each transformation personally, and he has many demands on his time. I was offered it because he wants to keep me in Poseidonis, and because the population of mantafolk is so small. Some… Others might choose it, but most would rather keep their own shape. That is… Why most of them chose to leave Poseidonis."

"I was wondering about that."

"It may be possible to wear a water manipulation artefact all day, but it is not practical." He frowns faintly. "Was that not the obvious explanation?"

"It was one of them. The other was that Ahri'ahn wanted them gone."

His brow smooths as he nods. "Ah… Yes. For a man of his era, it would not be… Entirely strange if he held such beliefs, out of a sense of Poseidonian primacy if nothing else. But I have not seen him display any awkwardness in his dealings with the 'impure', including me."

"That's something of a relief. How are..? Things..? Other things, I mean."

"I've been too busy to pursue a romantic relationship. My work has progressed in a new and strange direction, but I suspect that the Anti-Life did that to a great many people."

"Including the man who started it."

He blinks. "You..? Left him alive?"

I nod. "He fell under an unnatural mental influence. He was only partially responsible for the start, and by the end he had no control over what was happening. He's working as a delivery driver now."

"Hm." He takes a moment to think that over. "I suppose that it is useful work, at least. I hope that you will understand that I am… Surprised, at you being so merciful."

"The technique we used exposed me forcefully to some more uplifting emotions. Plus… It showed me that he didn't actually want any of this to happen. He just wanted to be a slightly better mugger. I didn't see any point in killing him. Particular when -as you say- he could do useful work." I shrug. "And when he said that he regretted the whole thing, I knew that he was telling the truth, and genuinely wanted to reform. I mean, if killing him would have ended it faster then I would have killed him, but it.. wouldn't."

"I doubt that most people would care."

I shrug. "Perhaps not. But honestly, a lot of people weren't themselves during that whole period. I think more people would understand than you might think once what happened was explained to them."

"Mm." He nods. "Oh, would you please pass on my apologies to Ted Kord? I don't know if Ahri'ahn has told you yet, but-."

I nod. "No working with outsiders for the foreseeable future. N.-. The Orange Lantern Corps is working out an agreement for sourcing wizards elsewhere, and… I don't think that weather control needs to be our top priority right now anyway."

"Perhaps your new source could send people to work for KordTech? Depending on the distance involved."

I nod slowly. "I'll ask, but… His requirements are a bit less significant."

"But they are also less involved in killing people. That is a significant hurdle for any people."

I nod. "You're right. I'll mention it. It would also be less politically significant for their queen. Weather control versus… Warship transportation."

"Your war continues, then?"

"Oh yes. That's going to be continuing for several decades. It's happening over a vast area of space, and neither side is anything like tapped out."

"Your enemies have not developed magic of their own?" I shake my head. "I know that you said that magic is rare in the universe, but it surprises me that an empire of their size could not find anyone to assist them."

"That's probably to do with the mind control techniques and extermination campaigns. If there were magic users in their space, they're long dead now. And getting mercenaries would have similar issues; they don't have non-Reachians alive in their space."

"I'm still surprised that no one will take the chan-ce…" He frowns. "You didn't know that I was here. What brings you to the factory?"

"I wanted to see what had happened to the place. Ahri'ahn isn't sure that he wants to allow me to continue purchasing ammunition."

"I'm afraid that if he has blocked the sale-."

"No, no, I quite understand. With King Orin out of contact, I'm not surprised that it looks like a security risk."

He nods. "While you are here, would you like to look around? This place ultimately exists due to your intervention after all, and you cannot copy the magic involved yourself."

I smile. "You know what? I would. Thank you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th September 1995
17:38 GMT -5

I shift position on the settee slightly, wrapping my arms more tightly around Anne-Marie's waist as she leans back into me.

"…kept living here, but if we're having children then I think it might be a good idea to consider buying a house."

"That a plural I heard there, darlin'? Abowt how many were ya'll plannin' on us havin'?"

"I didn't have a specific number in mind. I… Suppose that.. factoring in the recovery time-." I frown to myself. She was worried about the vitality draining, but honestly her super strength might be a bigger problem. "Two seems like a good number? Once we've… Got a better idea how parenthood and being superheroes mix and we actually.. know what we're doing, we could give it more serious thought." … "Ah, did you have a specific number in mind?"

"Kinda assumed I couldn't have none. If ya'll mean back when ah wuz a little girl… Fahv."

I blink. "U-ah. We can… Do five? Was there a… Particular reason for it being that number?"

"Happiest fam'ly ah knew growin' up had fahv kids. Figured it wuz a lucky numbuh. Ain't… Real sure I wanna put mahself through all that though."

"Maybe we can see how we feel after the first is on solids. So, house, or not?"

"Guess we c'n go take a look. Ya'll got anywhere picked out?"

"Not really. Given how fast I can build, I… I was sort of thinking about buying this Earth's version of the home I grew up in, flying it here and plumbing it in."

She snort, quietly. "That raht?"

"It's a very nice house. I mean I.. could just build a copy here, but it's just not the same."

"How's about we just see wut's-." Scott and Jean walk down the stairs. "Oh, hey, ya'll."

Jean smiles at us while Scott nods. "Hey. Good news?"

I feel Anne-Marie take a deep breath. "We're.. gunna try havin' kids." She shrugs, her shoulders rubbing against my chest. "Best we c'n tell, mah powers won't hurt mah own flesh and blood. Not if they're a mutant too."

Scott sort of… Tenses, and Jean's eyes sort of flick back and forth between us and her husband.

I lift my right hand off Anne-Marie and wave it back and forth. "Don't worry: if we're still living in the mansion I'll put sound insulation in."

"That, ah…" The two of them walk into the living area and take the settee opposite us, Scott looking decidedly pensive. "That wasn't why… Have you..? Though about how safe it is-. And I don't just mean Rogue's power, but there are still plenty of people who support the Friends of Humanity, and then there's-. It took a while for me to find out that-" He touches his glasses. "-ruby quartz could block my eye beam. I was.. effectively blind for years before the Professor figured it out."

I nod. "So you're asking if we talked about how we'd cope if our child got an ability with a steep downside?"

"Given… R-. Anne-Marie's… Ah…"

"Ah know wut mah power does, Scott. But mah power didn't kick in 'til ah wuz fifteen. So the way ah figure it, they'll be old enough to talk it through with us. And… If anyone can help 'em cope with it, it's the Professor."

Jean… Takes a moment to build up her courage. "Not all.. powers activate in adolescence. Some powers… Some visible… Changes, are there at birth."

I nod. "Yes. Getting a very specialist obstetrician is one of the many things on the list. We might end up having to get someone who isn't a qualified obstetrician but does have familiarity with superhuman physiology."

Scott shrugs. "I'm.. not sure that Hank or the Professor-."

I shake my head. "I was thinking of talking to Doctor Reed Richards. He and his wife both have superpowers, and I'm sure that he's thought about the potential difficulties. Failing that, there's Doctor Connors, and… Probably other specialists. Obviously we couldn't just turn up at a hospital and hope that the on-duty obstetrician could cope with it, that would -heh- be ridiculous. And… Dangerous, if their powers were active from birth."

"Ah think we all gaht powers that could go real bad, an' we all worked through it. An' ah think our chald's gaht the best chance a chald could have, even if that ain't a certainty."

…

Oh. Oh. Um.

"Had..? You two talked about..?"

Jean takes Scott's hand, and she nods. "It was when the Friends of Humanity were first making themselves known. A lot of hu-." She sees me raise my eyebrows. "People hate mutants. We didn't want to bring a child up in a world where they could get chased through the streets by a mob if they found out what they are."

…

"Oh."

Because… I mean, what can I say to that? I don't think there's really any chance-.

And then the alarm goes off!

"Huh-?"

Scott's on his feet first, closing his eyes as he replaces his glasses with the visor he keeps tucked in his jacket. Jean's a moment behind, darting over to the nearest computer console to call up the Mansion's security system. Anne-Marie doesn't move for a moment, then carefully disentangles herself from me and stands up. I float up and don my armour-.

Anne-Marie pulls me down to her and whispers in my ear.

"We need t'talk to them. That ain't-."

"I agree completely. You take Jean and I'll take Scott?"

She nods, smiling at me and-. And I think she's crying a little. And I'm on the ground because I'm emotionally compromised again and she takes a moment to wipe her face before heading over to Jean.

Scott and I follow a moment later, and Jean's-.

"One intruder. The security system's dropped them in the Danger Room."

Scott frowns. "How did they get in?"

An animation plays of a group of mechanical arms grabbing a normal-shaped humanoid. "They were on the roof."

I wince. I thought that was a dodgy one. "And… Were they breaking in, or just psyching themselves up to ask to if they could study here?"

She looks in the general direction of the Danger Room, raising her right hand to her forehead. "I feel… Confusion. Anger, fear… His body's changing, and he-. He's used to hostility."

I wince harder. "So… Probably a mutant looking for help?"

Scott's already halfway across the room, moving at a run. "Jean, let him know we're coming, then tell whoever's-" Anne-Marie and I fly past him down the corridor. "-on the console to shut it down."

Because our computers aren't fully networked, because letting a hacker access the combat robots used in the Danger Room would be a stupid idea but that also means that we can't turn them off anywhere else. And using it as part of our security system made sense last time Cain Marko visited but I think it's just really blown up in our faces.

I just hope they're alright.

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th Septermber 1995
17:43 GMT -5

Parker luck…

The sentinel swivels its head a hundred and seventy degrees and warms up its eye-mounted plasma weapons, easily burning off Mr. Parker's somewhat hopeful web coating. Anne-Marie should be in the control room running through the deactivation process-

"What is this?!"

-but Mr. Parker's already taken a couple of nasty knocks and this really isn't doing anything to encourage cordial relations going forwards.

"Training!"

I throw up a shield to block the sentinel's shot, then stick a friction-free sheet under its feet before grabbing its right calf with a construct gauntlet and pulling. First time I tried this I embarrassed myself because I couldn't generate enough force, but with the friction gone-. Yes, over it goes, and that's one that Henry or Forge won't have to rebuild later because its internal mechanisms can easily survive something like that.

"I think you guys take the 'no soliciting' thing a bit too seriously!"

Yes, its control system has realised that it can't get up quickly so it just raised its hands and fired from there, red beams slamming into my shield and being blocked, though the shield is looking a bit ropey.

"When I joined? I phoned ahead!"

"Well excuse me, Princess! I wasn't expecting giant robots at a school!"

He looks up, eyes… I'm assuming they're getting wider, but the mask makes it look like they're wide all the time, as two more sentinels trudge our way. Scott blasts one in the next from the entrance, sending the head flying into the side wall. The other extends an arm in both directions, a volley from each palm forcing Scott into cover and wrecking my shield.

I dart aside as Mr. Parker leaps, plasma bolts raining down where we were an instant before.

"Your tax dollars at work. Maybe you remember the Mutant Registration Act?"

"I want a rebate!"

Pshhhhhhuuuuuu!

I relax slightly as the robots lose power. Not completely relaxed, because these things can be worryingly clever at times.

"Is that it?" Mr. Parker has attached himself to the side wall and is twitching with adrenaline. "My work-out routine usually involves less lasers, but I guess I'm not too old to learn new tricks."

Scott steps back into the open, right hand hovering near the activation switch for his visor. "We fought things like this for real before. We don't intend to forget how to beat them."

Mr. Parker pushes off the wall into a front flip, landing in a crouch just in front of Scott. "And who are you supposed to be, Cyclops?"

Scott nods. "Yes."

I fly over as Anne-Marie makes her way down from the control room and Mr. Parker takes a moment to get his head around how on the nose Scott's codename is.

"Oh. Okay, I guess that makes sense. I'm looking for a guy named Professor Charles Xavier? He's supposed to be an expert in genetic mutation."

I wince. "I'm sorry, but he and his girlfriend are taking a short break out of the country. They'll be back in a few days…" I shrug awkwardly. "If you'd phoned ahead we could have told you that."

Mr. Parker punches the floor plating. And.. leaves a dent. "Damn it!"

Yeah, I… Forget how much stronger than a normal man he is sometimes. Anne-Marie and Jean walk in as he gets himself back under control.

"Ah, Doctor McCoy should be back later this evening if you've got a scientific enquiry? If you're looking for physical backup, we can-."

"No, that's not-. I'm looking for someone who knows how to stop me mutating before things get even worse!"

…

My x-gene bearing colleagues go very still for a moment.

I raise my hands. "Why don't I handle this?"

Scott breathes out. "Yeah. I think that's probably a good idea. Spiderman, Orange Lantern will handle… Whatever you're looking for."

He turns and leads Anne-Marie and Jean out, the Danger Room door slamming closed behind them.

"What did I say?"

I exhale. "You basically did the equivalent of walking into a National Association for the Advancement of Colored People annual general meeting and announcing that you didn't want to be no no-account nigger no more. Now, I don't think you meant it-"

He recoils. "No!"

"-like that, but that's what it sounded like to people who've been attacked in the streets by the Friends of Humanity for years, and they're a lot more physical in their attacks than Mister Jameson is. So: breathe in. Count to five."

I wait for a mental 'five' count.

"Breathe out." He does. "Now. You've been active as a superhero for years, with the same powers. You've maintained a secret identity, so if you want to quit then you can. What's the problem? With a little more detail, this time."

"I got my powers in-. I got them a few weeks before I started out as Spider-Man. But lately they've been randomly cutting out in the middle of fights. I went to see Doc Conn-. Doctor Curt Connors, he-."

"I'm-" I nod. "-familiar with his work. Attempting to grant humans the regenerative abilities of reptiles?"

"Yeah. I thought I might just have the flu or something, but I watched my D.N.A. literally fall apart under the microscope."

"Oh. Sugar." Scan. "Um, do you have a preserved sample of blood or tissue from before that started happening?"

"Ah, yeah. Why?"

"It's a bit invasive, but I should be able to reset you back to that state myself. Ah, obviously you'd.. eventually progress to the point you're at now again-."

"Hey, if it gives me more time to work on this then I'm all for it. But I was kinda hoping that Professor Xavier had some way to fix this. I'd like to keep my powers, but I'd kinda like to avoid falling apart genetically even more."

"Heh. Ah. See, if you'd started with 'I'm losing my powers and I want to keep them', then it would have gone over a lot better. For people with the x-gene, suggesting that it's a disease or something that needs to be 'cured' is really insensitive. But in your case… Yeah, if it's actually killing you then you do need to do something."

He nods. "You seem to be taking it a lot better than the others."

"Oh." I raise my left hand. "I'm the token baseline human on the team. The orange force fields come from this ring, not from anything innate to me."

"Oh. Guess you don't need to worry about your D.N.A. decaying."

"No. Going crazy because it messes with my emotions, yes. D.N.A. breakdown, no. So, ah, why don't I fly us back to Doctor Connor's laboratory and we can go from there."

He turns towards the door, then hesitates. "I… Guess I should probably apologise to your friends, first."

I nod. "I think that's probably a good idea."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
10:20 GMT -2

"…which is where I've got so far."

Alan's image nods. "But still no sign of King Orin?"

"No, but it's not like I can demand proof of life or something."

"Well, what do you think is happening?"

"King Orin isn't a great politician, but he isn't inept enough to believe that nearly flooding the entire Atlantic rim wouldn't attract at least some attention. So either he went somewhere and Ahri'ahn decided that events made it sensible to return to the surface now, or he's been nobbled, or... It's not impossible that Ahri'ahn might be old school enough to refuse to interrupt his king even when that's the sensible thing to do."

"But you don't think so."

"But I don't think so. I don't know what has happened, but I doubt that it's what he said."

"What about that magic dream thing Lori was talking about?"

I take a moment to double check my sound suppression system. Yes it's working, and if he's good enough to get through it then he's good enough to find her anyway.

"I had an… Argument with her a while back. She thought that I was implying that fish-type Atlanteans were abhorrent, which she took offence to. If… Ahri'ahn regrets more Atlanteans not having access to his version of the spell and wants to… 'Correct' that, then she might oppose it for political reasons."

"What about what Shark said?"

"His people like their transformation too. I don't know. There's room for doubt until we can speak to King Orin-." Wait. "Or… I could try and find Koryak. I haven't seen him since that mess with Oceanus, but he'd probably know his father's last location at least. And then I could work from there."

"Won't he have..? Guards?"

"He should, but I'm a known quantity. Me wanting to talk to him isn't that strange. I can just make it sound like I'm asking how King Orin coped with the Anti-Life personally. Since I'm effectively an expert on the subject."

"Ah, how old is he?"

"Fourteen." Huh. "So he's actually old enough to join the team if he wants to. I don't know if he's been trained, but I suppose it's another reason to talk to him."

He looks dissatisfied. "I don't know…"

"Know what?"

"A fourteen year old kid… I know Robin and Kid Flash started that young, but it just sticks in my craw."

"I have no authority over who joins or doesn't. I'm part time at best myself. I'll just ask if he's interested, ask what training he's had, things like that. Assuming I can find him."

"What if you can't find him?"

"Then I ask Kaldur where he is. I'd like to talk to him alone, anyway. See how much his mental state has altered. After that… I'm more or less out of ideas."

No. Then I try getting hold of Melinoë and see if King Orin can be tracked via his nightmares. But there won't be much else that I can do here.

"Alright. I'll talk to Sandy, see if he's got any ideas."

"I don't suppose the whole 'clay zombie' thing rings any bells with you?"

"Sounds a bit like that Clayface fellah. The Lazarus Pit brings people back from the dead, doesn't it? And it turned him into clay."

"That was.. due to an excess of geomantic magic. I don't think it would work like that. Though I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look into it."

"And then there's Solomon Grundy. I always thought he was his own thing, and then those witch hunters showed up with them."

"Slaughter Swamp probably has residual sheeda magic in it somewhere. Either that or Melmoth popped back to be an arsehole, which wouldn't surprise me. Well, Miss Martian can get the clay sample analysed just in case there's anything special about it, and Zatanna's the best bet for identifying the magic element."

"Sounds like you've got it all handled. Is there anything else?"

"Um. I appreciate that I kind of dropped the date thing on you, and if you really don't want to do it, that's not a problem."

"One dinner won't hurt." He looks away for a moment. "And… Sixty years was a long time to be alone. Six hundred would be even longer."

"That's a really depressing way of thinking about being immortal and going on a date with a queen."

"Oh, just trying to be realistic. And you're right." He smiles awkwardly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Have you mentioned this to Jay?"

"No? Why?"

"I was just thinking… He tried for years, and I succeeded first time."

"Heh." He grins. "I might just tell him that. Good luck finding Koryak."

I nod, and cut the connection. And then I drop my observation and eavesdropping baffle and do a scan to see if anyone was watching for the full duration.

No, not that I can detect. Of course: Atlantis.

I rise into the air and-. Don't scan for Kaldur, because I've just got these eyes and I can do basic pattern recognition. He's most likely at the palace, but if he's not there then the Conservatory is probably the best place to look. I rise off the ground and head in.. that direction.

Navigating here is really different now that it's above water. And… And I can't just fly over to one of the upper entrances, because they're mostly closed and the ones that are still open aren't supposed to be used like that without specific invitation.

And… I'm the only one flying. Flying doesn't require a particularly high level of magic power, but there hasn't been much reason for Atlanteans to learn how to do it. Similarly, they haven't gotten around to fleshcrafting any flying creatures. No gulls, either, though I'm sure they'll turn up eventually.

From here I can see where-. Ah, interesting. They might not have any use for personal water bubbles but it looks like they've transferred their fish farming operation above the waves in some places. I seem to remember that the palace in Venturia had a similar thing for ornamental fish. And I suppose that they can use Dolmen Gates to get around their lack of sea-to-shore transportation vehicles. Maybe I'm misunderstanding and it's actually a park, then?

I shake my head, landing in front of the palace entrance and walking over to the guards on duty.

"Orange Lantern?"

"Yes, hello. I'd like to speak to Koryak if he's available, or Kaldur if he's not. Could you please make the relevant enquiries?"

"We.. can ask if they'll receive you. But for a visitor of your stature we weren't going to make you wait at the gate." He turns to a couple of his subordinates. "Please escort Orange Lantern into a waiting room while I contact the Chief Equerry."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th Septermber 1995
18:03 GMT -5

I look at the screen of the laboratory supercomputer as Dr. Connors transfers what his microscope is detecting onto it.

…

Yeah, I have… No idea what any of this means.

I had the same problem in secondary school science classes. I couldn't even manage 'look here to see a cell wall' viewings.

"So…" I smile awkwardly at him. "The blood sample? And-." I look at Mr. Parker. "You wouldn't have a sample from before you got your powers, would you?"

"No." He folds his arms across his chest. "I thought you X-Men were all pro-power, anyway."

"We are. Particularly in cases like yours where there's no downside."

"I wouldn't say my life has no downside."

"The only thing making you put on that costume is your sense of responsibility. And you yourself said that you couldn't fight your usual opponents when powerless."

"Yeah? So?"

"If you'll forgive me, 'With no power comes no responsibility'." He recoils slightly. "Think about it this way. If we could give literally everyone in the world your abilities, what's the downside?"

"Ah… Jameson would hate everyone-." His eyes narrow. "Everyone except Jameson, or is he included?"

"Mister Jameson was one of a very short list of editors who came out against the Friends of Humanity."

"Oh, so he's fine with mutants, he just an arachnophobe."

"He doesn't hate you because you've got powers, spider or otherwise. He hates you because you wear a mask."

"X-Men wear masks."

"Scott wears one because he needs to keep his visor anchored in place. Logan wears one because a pepper spray to the eyes is one of the few quick and easy ways to disable him. And I wear one as part of my helmet because I like wearing armour when people are shooting at me. Charles? No mask. Heck, you found his address in a phone book. Henry? No mask. Anne-Marie? No mask. Jean? No mask. Remy? No mask. None of us have secret identities. When we are summoned to appear in court we do so under our real names with our faces visible."

"But having a secret identity… Superheroes have had secret identities since World War Two! It's… Normal."

I raise my eyebrows and crane my neck towards him, trying to convey my incredulity that skin tight synthetic spider silk coloured in red and blue could be considered remotely 'normal'.

"Okay, not.. normal-normal. But what's his problem?"

"Ah… Well… It's.. public knowledge, but it's a bit… Personal to him?"

"Did a spider murder his parents, causing him to-" I wince. "-swear veng-. Seriously?"

"No. Two masked men murdered his wife. Despite there being plenty of witnesses, they were never identified b-."

"Because they-" He sags slightly. "-wore masks. So he sees-" He touches his mask. "-this as me avoiding accountability."

"I wouldn't say that it's quite that rational. He assumes the worst of anyone wearing a mask because that association is there. Why are you concealing your identity? Because you're up to something."

"That… Makes more sense than I was expecting. But why out of all the vigilantes in New York does he hate me so much?"

"Because you're the most notable. Your arrest rate -particularly in supervillains- is far higher than Daredevil's, and Punisher doesn't wear a mask."

Or arrest people.

He snorts dismissively. "I wouldn't call Frank Castle a hero."

"Doctor Strange doesn't wear a mask, Thor doesn't wear a mask, Iron Man does wear a mask but he works for Stark Industries so if someone wants to sue him they can serve their legal department, the Fantastic Four don't wear masks… And I think that's about it?"

"Okay. So, got any advice?"

"Well, if you find a way to make the Spiderman thing a full-time profession, you could try not wearing-."

"I… Don't think that would work."

"Alright. That's it, really. The mask is the whole-." Huh. "Or you could have a post box somewhere where you could receive court summons and things like that. It might make things easier for the police as well, though it probably wouldn't help with Mister Jameson."

"'Probably'."

"I never claimed to be a miracle worker. So, genetic sample?"

"I can't think of anywhere that would have a sample of my blood from before I got my powers."

"Doesn't need to be blood. Honestly, I can take old skin samples, hair, blood, semen… If the sample isn't fully intact I can scan a wide variety of cells until I get a complete picture." I shrug. "Do you have an old sock or something?"

…

"I don't know what you think I use my socks for, buddy-."

"Walking." I blink. "Dead skin. Feet."

"Oh."

"I mean, foot hair is-" Dr. Connors walks into the laboratory with one of Mr. Parker's older blood samples. "-fine too."

Dr. Connors frowns slightly at me, then puts the sample down on the table in front of me. "This is the oldest sample I have. It isn't actually that old, and it will only buy Spider-Man time. And while I think Spider-Man's health is going to get worse the longer this goes on, when it comes to superpowers nothing is certain."

And scan.

Scan complete.

Yep, that's D.N.A. alright. Spirally bits, cross-hatchy bits. Some bits don't match anything I've seen in a human before, but that's not too surprising. And I don't feel like dubbing it onto myself until I get an actual expert to go through what this is actually doing.

"Alright, I've got the structure." I shrug at Mr. Parker. "Up to you."

"I think I prefer having my D.N.A. in one piece, thanks."

"Alright." I raise my left hand. "You shouldn't feel anything, but if you do… There's no point in screaming, it won't help."

"Ah… What?"

Fix him.

Fixing.

Orange light envelops him, prompting him to look over his own body with a degree of concern. After a moment it dies down and then fades completely.

Scan… And we're good.

"Huh." He performs a couple of small stretches. "Is that it?"

I nod. "That's it. It might take a while for the physical parts of your power to manifest again… I don't know how long that took originally. But then you should be back to full effectiveness. And now that I know what your D.N.A. looks like when it's healthy, I can reset you to this whenever it becomes a problem."

He nods. "Thanks. I owe you one."

I shake my head. "The world owes you quite a few. This is just paying one back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
10:32 GMT -2

Fortunately, the wards for burning my eyes out doesn't seem to do anything when I'm inside looking out.

Henry King Senior's grave looks entirely undisturbed. It's not just that the grass look unmoved, there are literally roots and worm tunnels moving through the ground that anyone exhuming him would have had to dig through and then replace. I could do it, but that's not something a casual Resurrectionist would be able to do. No obvious teleportation residue either. Some signs that the soil underneath his second-to-last resting place has been disrupted, but that could have been caused by dozens of things and I'm not quite obsessive-compulsive enough to scan every millimetre of the Earth's soil daily.

So, a soil manipulator. I haven't stopped by to say hello to Mr. Hagen for a while, but… He never demonstrated the ability to 'swim' through soil. I could ask him, but so far this says 'elemental' to me rather than anyone else. Which… Is weird because Atlanteans aren't big on that sort of thing. It's not… They will bind and use elementals, but it's looked down upon even if there's no worship involved. Basically, they think you should just learn to cast the spell yourself.

And Atlanteans aren't good at manipulating soil because they live underwater. Lived underwater. So, no ide-.

Tefé Holland, maybe. Maybe. I can't see any reason for her to steal a corpse and turn it into a clay zombie, but it's at least not impossible that she could. And she might be able to detect something that I can't, so it's worth talking to her anyway.

Or-. Oh, good grief. I never checked what sort of funeral Henry King Senior had. If he was cremated and the grave is purely social… Then someone could have created him entirely out of clay, used just about any kind of correspondence ritual…

Would that make it telepathic? Oh, I don't know.

What's the time wherever Henry King Junior is? G.M.T. -5? And he's awake? Oh, he's taking the 'getting back in shape' thing seriously, good show. Phone him.

Compliance.

"Hank here."

"Mister King, Orange Lantern here."

"Oh hey, Paul. How you been?"

"Considering… Everything?"

"Heh, yeah. I hear yeh."

"Pretty good apart from that. You?"

"Well, the lecture circuit's died a death." I wince. "And my investments aren't worth dick, so I'm acting as a police consultant."

"If you're taking tips, I have it on good authority that Cadbury's is going to explode."

"Since when do you do stock tips?"

"Since I bought the company and they used Dolmen Gates to become a giant logistics hub. Now, technically, Cadbury's itself is a sole proprietor company wholly owned by me, but the logistics arm is a separate Private Limited Company which I split off to allow people in countries on the far end of the Gate to invest and benefit financially. Now, I've got no use for money, but by the time the planet's economy pulls itself together-"

And I show Queen Artemis how to make Dolmen Gates, assuming that she doesn't already know.

"-we're going to be the first and last word in long distance shipping."

"Huh. I'll look into it. Is that why you called?"

"No. Ah. The actual reason is a bit weird. We just got into a fight with a zombified version of your father."

"I wish I could say it was the first time someone had that happen to them. Did anyone get hurt?"

"Not seriously. Ah. So, we've got… Either his body, or a surprisingly realistic clay replica, minus the head because that got eaten by a shark… Um. And I… I was wondering what you wanted us to do with it?"

"Sharks eat clay?"

"He wasn't happy about it."

"Well, ah… Do you need what's left for the investigation?"

"Yes, but none of the tests are destructive, so we're still going to have most of a body… And a lot of clay, left at the end."

"Honestly, I'm not really…" He sighs. "Dad did right by me, in the end, but I know perfectly well that he was a nasty piece of work. Do you know where his burial plot is?"

"Yes."

"Then you can just stick him back there when you're done. No need to.. tell me. We said our goodbyes while he was in prison."

"Will do. And I'll drop off the prospectus for the Cadbury's Logistics thing."

"I'm sure it'll be an interesting read. Speak to you soon."

"Goodbye."

I hang up.

That's that dealt with. Next is-.

Kaldur walks into the waiting room, a small smile on his face. "Paul. I was not sure that you would remain after speaking with Lord Ahri'ahn."

"Well." I shrug, shaking his hand. "Ahri'ahn is thinking over an offer I made. And since I've got permission to be here I thought I'd take care of a few things."

He sits down just across from me. "Such as?"

"Did King Orin give you any sort of clue what he had planned for Koryak? He's about the age that Robin and Kid Flash were-."

He's shaking his head. "I… Do not know who you mean."

"You..? Don't remember Koryak?"

"You once told me that you use your ring to enhance your memory. Not all of us have your recall."

"Koryak." He looks fairly blank. "Okay, do you remember when Orm unleashed Oceanus?"

He nods. "Of course."

"Do you remember how he managed that?"

"He used Neptune's Trident. I.. do not see the significance."

"And?" He keeps looking blank. "Breaking the bond required the blood of a living member of the Atlantean royal family. We had Prince Artur and Thomas Curry locked down just in case, but..?"

I look at him expectantly.

He blinks, and… Then it's like he-. Like he's waking up.

"My king had-. He had a son, in Canada. One you concealed from him."

"I didn't conceal. I just didn't unconceal. So where is he? And why did you have no idea who he was?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
10:36 GMT -2

Kaldur's staring at nothing, though I think it's because he's thinking hard rather than because any sort of Dream-related spell is trying to reassert itself.

But because I'm not an idiot, I take out a Spell-Eater and poke him with it. His head jerks around and then down to see what it is. His right hand reaches for it, then stops.

"If I were acting under some enchantment, that may alert whoever cast it that I am free."

"We already went through this in Nanauve. I don't think it's that precise. And we can't do anything about it if you start forgetting what we're doing every few minutes."

He nods, takes the Spell-Eater and slides it into one of his robe's pockets.

"If you have encountered this before, do you know what is causing it?"

"Not exactly. One of the previous sufferers described it as being half-asleep. My first thought was something to do with the Dream, but given how the new format spells that Ahri'ahn's introduced work it's possible that someone's learned how to piggyback onto them."

"That…" He nods. "It is possible, but they would have to be very highly skilled. Lord Ahri'ahn himself checks the functioning of the network daily."

We look at each other for a moment, then I raise my eyebrows.

He shakes his head. "There would be no purpose in Lord Ahri'ahn doing such a thing. He is already the second most powerful person in the country, as he was during the Sinking. He has never shown any desire for further political authority."

"But you have to admit, the timing's pretty suspicious."

"He was working on this system for months before the Rising. Almost all of Atlantis's thaumaturgists are aware of how it functions. And even after our government was purged of as many of Prince Orm's followers as we could find, it is unlikely that we found them all."

"So where is Koryak?"

"I do not know." He glances aside. "I did not spend a great deal of time with him. As I remember it, the last time I saw him was during a class at the Conservatory of Sorcery. It was… Before the Anti-Life."

"You haven't seen him since you got back here?"

"No. Locating him was not my primary concern. Or… Perhaps I was made to forget."

"How about King Orin? Have you seen him?"

"Yes. He greeted me when I was first granted entry. He was relieved to see me."

"And that was..?"

"Four weeks ago."

Oh.

"Is something amiss?"

"Oh… Just… I know I've been busy with the core and reconstruction, but I honestly didn't notice… That you hadn't been around. I think we've spoken… What, twice? Three times? Since the broadcast?"

He nods. "We have grown apart. It was the same when I left the Conservatory of Sorcery to train with my king. Sometimes I did not see Garth or Tula for weeks, even though we lived close to one another."

And I am… Not good at keeping in touch with friends.

"Um." I shake my head. "When you say 'relieved'..?"

"Atlantis did not know how the rest of the world fared. He was relieved to learn that the Anti-Life was no more and that the world was recovering as best it could."

"Did he talk to you about… Rising up?"

"No. He… Said that we would lower the barriers soon. They were not intended to be simple to remove, but since he had confirmation that the world was safe we could begin the process."

"Makes sense. Was Ahri'ahn around at that point?"

"He was in Atlantis, but he was not there when I spoke with my king."

"Did he..? Say how long Ahri'ahn had been back for? Or how he got here?"

Kaldur nods. "He arrived a few weeks after the shields were activated."

"Did he say where he'd been? I mean, did he die at any point and resurrect himself? Or time travel?"

"I do not know. There are legends dating from that period, but little recorded history."

"Legends? Like what?"

"Legends that he left Atlantis to try to find a way to reverse the Sinking. But I would not place much faith in them. We do not even know if they were contemporary, or a later invention."

"Do those legends say where he went?"

"No, they do not. There were few places in that era that could have given Atlantis aid."

To put it mildly. And Ahri'ahn is a massive Atlantean nationalist and exceptionalist. Even if there was a civilisation around that could help, he wouldn't-.

"Kor. The only place he might go for help is Kor."

Because their arcane learning was more advanced than any of their contemporaries. Though I doubt that it was anything compared to what Atlantis ended up developing. But since that was where Atlantis got its magical start, he wouldn't have the same distaste for the place that he would have for just about everywhere else.

"Kor did not exist by then."

"No, not as a country, but that sort of magic tends to persist. He might have thought that there was something to learn there."

"I suppose that it is possible. If that happened at all, and he was not simply killed by the Sinking itself."

Another thing to investigate. I've got no idea where Kor was other than 'somewhere in Africa', but Dr. Mist can point me in the right direction.

"And he might have gone looking for the mighty king Nommo Balewa."

"Neither of them mentioned meeting."

"No, but if Doctor Mist tells me where he was during that time, that's somewhere else to look for clues."

"To what end?" Kaldur gives his head a small shake. "If he is an impostor or has betrayed Atlantis, where he was thousands of years ago is of little importance. If he has not, then it matters even less."

"Alright. King Orin. Where did you last see him?"

"The day after I arrived. He seemed distracted. He merely told me that he had important business that he could not speak to me about."

"Is not talking to you about missions normal?"

"It is not, but… It is not surprising."

"Alright. I've got leads to follow up outside of Atlantis. Can you handle enquiries here?"

"I will need Garth and Tula's aid. Do you have more Spell-Eaters?"

I pass them to him, rolling my eyes. "Next you'll ask if I remembered my rings."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th September 1995
18:39 GMT -5

Peter gestures back towards the counter of the Chinese restaurant we're in with his left thumb. "You sure you don't want anything? We're coming up on rush hour."

"No, thank you." We head over to a side table to wait for his order. "We usually eat together as a team, personal schedules permitting. But if this place has your recommendation then I'll definitely bring Anne-Marie here sometime."

He looks around, and… "I'm not sure it's really a date kinda place."

I follow his gaze, and suppress the desire to clean and repair the place. And the desire to check the kitchens. "Is the food good?"

He shrugs. "It's cheap."

Ah, right. The few Spiderman-related comics I read took place long after he stopped being a part-time photographer for the Daily Bugle, but here that's still his sole source of income. If I try asking for good restaurants he could probably tell me what the Bugle's restaurant critic likes, but I've seen critic-food, and… No.

"You know, you really didn't have to come. I'd have been fine getting home by myself."

I shake my head. "No no. New York has a truly impressive crime rate, you're under the weather and… There's that web-slinging menace to society to consider."

That gets a wry smile.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"I guess? I might not wanna answer…"

"Have you ever..? Have you ever thought about how.. what you've learned about your own genetics..? Does it affect your decisions about..? Dating, or having children yourself?"

"Huh." He sits back in his chair. "That is pretty personal. And heavy." He glances at where my right hand rests on the table top. "Are you and your wife having.. problems?"

"Anne-Marie's power drains the life out of anyone she touches."

"So-." He blinks as he immediately realises the significance of that statement. "Oh. So..?"

"Mutant powers don't work on genetic relatives… Some of the time. As far as we can tell, she should be able to carry a child to term as long as they're a mutant too."

"And what happens if they're not?"

"Ah… Rough guess, the fertilized egg would be drained the moment it touched the uterine lining. In the normal run of things we wouldn't even know that she'd been pregnant."

He frowns slightly, looking down. "I guess that's… Better than…"

"Draining them continuously while they tried to grow? Or giving birth and not being able to touch them? Maybe. But we can easily do I.V.F. and make sure that they're a mutant… Except there's a good chance they'll get an ability similar to hers and that's not exactly a lot of fun either."

"Does it happen like that every time?"

"Have you heard of Magneto?"

"Everyone's heard of Magneto."

"He's got three children, and one of them inherited his exact power. The other two have powers that are completely different. Cyclops and his brother both fire energy beams, but from different parts of their bodies."

He half-grins. "Do I wanna know?"

I roll my eyes. "His hands. Though in theory there could be a mutant out there who fires beams from other places."

He nods. "So… You wanna know if I've thought about it? Passing on… What I have to my kids?"

"Yes."

"Not really. Mostly I just try and work out how to get to the end of the week. But now you've made me think about it… It's not like they'd need to put on a mask."

"Your thing happened a few years ago. Things might be different if someone had it from birth. And I doubt that a child would know to keep quiet about it."

"I guess not. And that's not even thinking about all the ways it could go wrong." He sighs. "I don't think this was covered in health class."

"You'd think it would be by now, given the increase in the number of people born like that. Though I suppose it doesn't usually become an issue until adolescence."

"But you decided to go ahead anyway?"

I nod. "Anne-Marie and I. I'm pretty sure that the popularity of the Friends of Humanity is a short term panic response, so I was going to wait until things were a little calmer. She-." How to put it? "I have a lot of respect for Professor Xavier, but sometimes…" I shake my head. "I read an article once where the author demeaned a charitable foundation set up by a famous actor. The actor in question was paralysed after falling off a horse, and the charity was for people with spinal injuries. The author said that campaigning for something that will improve your own life isn't really charitable, and went on to compare that to an actor he admired who spent time and money working with a charity he supported which didn't do anything relating to him or his life."

"Okay? So you don't think he'd have done anything about mutant rights if he wasn't one?"

"He talks-. No, to be fair, talked, about x-gene mutants like they're a different species. He doesn't do it so much since I pointed it out…"

"Really?"

"You've got to remember that him and Magneto used to be good friends. They don't really disagree on the situation, just the best solution."

"What's Magneto's deal, anyway? I don't see how going around destroying things is supposed to make people like mutants more."

"He grew up in a Nazi concentration camp." I shrug as Peter's eyes widen. "He thinks a race war is inevitable, because he lived through one, and this time he wants to be on the winning side. If you ever see someone from the Friends of Humanity, just imagine the armband has a swastika on it and your family name is 'Goldstein'."

"Okay… But has someone pointed out to him who he sounds like when he calls mutants 'the superior-'."

"Yes." I nod. "Yes, I did. Do you want to guess what his response was?"

"Ah…" He raises his eyebrows. "'But I'm right'?"

I smile broadly. "You heard it before!"

He bows his head for a moment. "So what was that about Professor Xavier?"

"He still fairly clearly regards x-gene mutants as a natural… Group, separate from people without the x-gene. And as if talking to someone from the same time and place as you is the same as.. international relations between two potentially hostile countries."

"That's… Pretty weird. I haven't thought of myself as… Part of a different culture since I-" He looks around, but no one's paying us any attention. "-got mine."

"Right. I mean, I joke about being the team's token baseline human, but you don't see him inviting anyone with powers who doesn't have the x-gene coming to study how their powers work, and that's after me prodding him about it for years."

He smiles for a moment, and then takes on a more serious expression. "I guess… Kids… It's something I should look into before… Before something else bad happens. I have to work out how to stabilise myself at least."

I nod. "It's a sensible thing to do, and I'll pick the Professor's brain to see if there's anything he can do to help once he gets back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
14:54 GMT +2

"Behold. My kingdom."

I look around the savannah, and a Thomson's gazelle looks back for a moment before returning to grazing.

"Metaphorically, or..?"

"No. I em being quite literal." Dr. Balewa steps down off the rock he was standing on and sets off across the plain. "It has been thousands of years."

"Right, but…" I float after him. "You were a top tier magic user. Surely you could create something that would last?"

"Why would I?"

"Most people like the civilisation they grew up in. Doubly so if they're the ones who made it, as you did."

"So I should maintain it in its exact form forevah?"

"Well… With room for growth…" I scan through the ground, trying to see if I can find any archaeological remains. Not… Much. "So what happened?"

"I do not want you to confuse yourself. While I was eh skilled magician, any Atlantean student of today would best me."

I blink. "Really?"

"Did you think thet I had learned nothing in the thousands of years since then?"

"Sure, new skills, but you must have been… Better than that?"

"Modern thaumaturgy is a modern science. They learn things in school thet were unknowen to the greatest scholars of my youth."

"It was supposed to be a centre of magic learning."

"Yes." He smiles. "And we had a great deal to learn. But power…" His smile fades. "Power, thet we had."

He keeps walking, two gazelles pausing to observe his progress.

"Come! You have more questions."

I nod. "Kor was unique as a source of magic learning. What happened to it?"

"What do you think happened?"

"It didn't expand and take over the world… Or even the continent. There aren't… Myths or legends about the place in Africa, just other places that have a long history with magic. We're not standing in the middle of a giant-" Quick scan to check… "-crater here."

"And so?"

"Civil war?"

"Yes! Yes. Eh war without a victer." He stops and raises his right hand. "Ah. Yes. Here."

The air in front of us shimmers and a… A large.. building shimmers into-. No, it's an illusion. It looks like… Stone? Marble, white marble with strands of gold running through it. It's… Big… But not that big. And I see fountains, and that's notable in a place like this… But again, in absolute terms…

"Eh palace fit for eh retired American dentist."

"I think the dentist would want plumbing. So…"

"So. Eh civil war. But you must understand first how we taught. Would you like to guess?"

"Personal instruction?"

He nods happily. "Magicians from here and from elsewhere taught and learned from one another, end their students learned from them in turn. And how do you think that we kept records?"

Paper wasn't invented for thousands of years. Papyrus sheets..? But everything would have to be written individually… Clay tablets? Stone? Did they have slates to write on with chalk…

No, wait, magic.

"Some sort of arcane creature bound to your service?"

"Sometimes. Mostly, we did not. If they were worth teaching then they would simply remember eet."

He holds out his right hand and a… Walking stick appears, the wood straight and painted black, symbols carved in a spiral around the sides. He holds it up, running the fingers of his left hand over the carvings.

"This was as far as physical records went. Eh minor aid to memory." He turns around to face me. "End so, the civil war."

I close my eyes for a moment. "No written records, masters were competing for acolytes, and when they died there… Weren't any records. Because it was all in their heads."

"Those acolytes who survived lived with magic that was weaker then thet of their masters, but strong enough that they were welcomed wherever they travelled. But without a centre of learning, their knowledge nevah grew, only stagnated and decayed."

"And… What were you doing, while that was happening?"

"I went for eh walk." He shrugs. "I left the throne to my son. I did not intend to rule forevah. You know how I feel about things like thet."

"So how did Atlantis get involved?"

"Foreigners had no interest in who ruled Kor, only in what they could learn before returning home. I… Think thet they played up our knowledge to impress their countrymen."

"So..? It's all..? It's just you? You're the only special thing to come out of it?"

"No. No, of course not. You have noticed the power of my descendants. And the masters of Kor were strong. Powerful. But they allowed their pride to be their undoing."

He opens his right hand, and the staff floats for a moment before decaying into vapour. A moment later the image of the palace does the same.

"Perhaps thet is a lesson-. Ah."

He bows his head and turns back to where the palace image is fading to reveal… A man in a hide skirt, a necklace of fetishes around his neck and… Part of the right side of his body appears to be made of clay.

Dr. Balewa doesn't seem unduly troubled, but I don my armour. "You are dead, man of Kor. What business have you with the living?"

The animated corpse considers for a moment, then snarls and thrust his arms into the sky as the land leaps to respond!

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
14:58 GMT +2

I fly up and left, a giant grasping rock hand shooting past me!

"Friend of yours?!"

Dr. Balewa raises his right hand and the fist falling towards him crumbles to dust. Then he dives aside as another punches through the soil behind him!

"Perhaps, once!"

The fist that missed me stops and… Hardens, losing animation and becoming-

Another fist shoots out of the side of it, grabbing at me. I slash at its forearm with an x-ionised sword-. Can't penetrate, it's reinforced with magic, dodge!

-just another rock.

Alright, conceptual level geomancy. Impressive, but he's using physical actions and I've seen the same thing from Rama Kahn. It's not quite the same as Rama Kahn was given the authority to do it by the spirit of his state while this man is doing it manually, but in terms of shock value-.

This man was able to do this thousands of years ago. He was swinging these fists against people with flint spears.

Dr. Balewa places his hands on the ground and… Water precipitates upwards, surrounding him like a bubble. A moment later a fist slams down, and… The water doesn't move at all while the earth of the fist is suddenly saturated with water. The fist falls apart in sodden clumps around him as he rises to his feet and dusts his costume off.

"Do I offend you, man of Kor? Do you know me? Or do you simply walk the ground-"

A hand comes out of the ground to grab him, but it fails to make an impression on his water shield before the fingers slough off. Another fist rises up behind him, stone hammer in hand, and swings down to flatten him. The hammer hits and cracks into pottery shards while the hand liquefies and falls into a pile of mud around him.

"-of your death?"

"You didn't check? Even once?"

He glances up at me. "These things are not always immediate." He then turns back to where the wizard is standing on a short stone pillar. "Tell me your name."

"Ged."

His voice sounds surprisingly normal. He has a strong accent, and I assume that's what the original Korian accent sounded like, but other than that it could have come from a human throat and not that of a magical super-zombie.

Dr. Balewa's eyes narrow for a moment. Then he shakes his head. "No, I do not remember you."

"I was born long after you left, King of Kings. I saw the final fall of Kor, though I did not long outlive it."

"You do know me, then?"

"Yes. I thought that the stories were merely self-aggrandisement, yet here you stand, radiating the essence of life."

Is this some sort of 'test your might' thing? Did he want to see if Dr. Balewa was worth talking to? That would make sense for a magocracy, but if he can feel his power anyway-.

The dust isn't settling.

"I know that I cannot kill you, but I think that choking you under the Earth for a few lifetimes will satisfy me."

"What made you rise?"

"She was surprised that I could still speak. But her people are learned, and I cannot criticise her mastery either."

"A person? A wizard? You were raised-. Who did this?"

I'm not completely sure that he can control the dust, but I'm getting a little concerned. I mean, yes, jaw, jaw is better than war, war, but I imagine that a magician of his era might need a little while to build up to something big.

"Someone who respects me."

"You were peaceful beneath the Earth. Do you hate me enough to walk again?"

"I do not hate you, King of Kings. I just know that this is your fault. We would have followed you, but you refused the authority that went with your power."

Dr. Balewa sighs. "There is more to existence then the accumulation of power. There is more to creating eh better world than crushing it to your will."

"Choosing to do nothing is still a choice, King of Kings. But, my words are not enough. Perhaps-"

Because of course, who raises just one super-zombie?

"-my fellow masters can make you see?"

Some tear their way out of the ground. Some rise easily, leaving the ground undisturbed. Others appear in bursts of fire or gusts of air. And one-

"Ah!"

-steps out of the water surrounding Dr. Balewa on the inside of his shield and grabs him from behind.

Mage-slay-grugk!

Uh-h.

Ring, check status.

No impairment detected.

Then why does it feel like-. Oh right, magic. Spell-Eater… Not detecting anything? It's not getting hotter-.

A magician with a blank face and hands and feet enveloped in fire leaps up, arcing above me and coming down towards me with his right fist cocked!

Railgun.

It doesn't-.

Feed-.

FGAAAGH!

Burning pain across half my-! Body!

Feed-.

No! Expert in fire magic! Eating fire when he's right there is probably a bad idea, but they're not thaumaturgists! I

step out and hold myself in the Honden of Avarice… Ew. I can see the bond of intent and injected desire that is attaching the spell to me. Can't tell exactly what it does… But it doesn't look like something that belongs to a long dead Korian magician. So the first one said that… Whoever raised them was surprised that he could speak. Clay zombies, but the earth wizard's magic could work with clay. So he had his own will. Did Henry King? I saw genuine anger but I didn't look closely enough to know whether it was truly his or not.

I'd like to spend more time examining it, but Dr. Balewa needs my help. I pluck the desire from myself and leave it floating in the middle of the 'room', unattached to anything. I'll take a closer look later. With that done I aim for Ged's desires and

step back in, railgun loading mage-slayers and aiming at the back of his head!

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
15:01 GMT +2

I fire, and his body turns to stone a fraction of a second before it hits! The round has enough kinetic force that the statue's head explodes, fragments of stone-.

Being neatly tided away into subspace because I can spot patterns.

The withered husk of the water wizard drops to the ground as Dr. Balewa staggers out of his own shield, water splashing over his body as he loses control of his spell. A zombie wearing a lion's pelt charges him next, muscles rippling and claws sharp. Dr. Balewa recreates his staff to block the first swipe as he sidesteps around the charging lionman-.

And he's forced to call up a wall of… Grass? To block a blast of fire from the fire magician who hit me.

Speaking of which, Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

Compliance.

The zombie wizards are forming a rough circle around Dr. Balewa, but those furthest away from him are beginning to orientate on me instead. One opens his mouth to-.

I hit him in the roof of the mouth with a mage-slayer round, breathing a little easier when his head explodes… Into clay, but at least his body collapses.

"Doctor Mist! Orders?!"

A stone palm shoots out of the ground beneath him, causing him to drop to all fours! Fingers close around him to crush him, before stopping as he brings his own magic to bear but a flying wizard is already on-site and is pulling the air away from him! I fire a trio of railgun shots at the wind wizard but-. Something happens with the space between us and… Three bullets fly past the target on either side.

That's surprisingly sophisticated for the era…

Fine. I'm fairly low on mage-slayers, but I need to talk to Queen Artemis again anyway…

Full auto into the zombie crowd.

An antelope wizard leaps out of the way, that fiery wizard blasts out of the way on a plume of fire and the path-splitter goes in two different directions and dodges out of my cone of fire, but the rest start taking hits. Hits to the 'meat' appear to cause it to revert to clay with ancient fragile bones sticking out of it, but hits to the body or limbs don't seem to kill them. 'Kill' them. Several hit the ground-.

I jerk to the side as a gorilla wizard slams his fists down onto the ground where I was standing. Target the head and fire and-.

The round undulates in mid air, hitting and knocking the apeman back without nullifying the magic animating him.

One of these people is a metal wizard, great.

Retask railguns. One on the wind wiz-.

The wind wizard falls out of the air as Dr. Balewa waves his staff at him, and I can see the air distort as he pulls fresh air into the low pressure area.

Track them falling and fire and boom, there goes their head and-.

YYIIIGHYYHHH-guh!

My bones snap and then get shoved back into place by my ring and-. Oh, of course, auto-aim spells probably weren't invented in their day. They all know how to aim manually! Railguns target the one with the bone-fetishes and-.

And half my visual field vanishes as he crushes… Some sort of monkey skull, in his right hand while his left points right at me.

Heal and railgun, THANK YOU.

His skull explodes, and my eye orbit flows back into place. I'll leave that eye as a construct just in case they've got an eye wizard as well.

The gorillaman is coming back around so railgun and load-.

Supply expended.

And that's why I don't usually use full automatic. Fine, x-ionised slug, target the head and fire.

Compliance.

The shot hits and punches through but he keeps coming, and the clay sort of… Oozes back over the neat hole in his forehead.

Alright, no flesh, these are bone and clay. Resonance frequency of human skull bones?

Frequency of target 1122 hertz.

I dart left to dodge a swing and block a plume of fire with a construct shield tied to my spell-eater, which is finally starting to make itself useful.

Sonic cannon.

Compliance.

Fire.

The gorillaman's false flesh ripples as I put enough force into the attack to peel it back, the clay flying away in places and reverting to its default state. A moment later enough of his face has been flensed the bones in the front of his skull become exposed, cracking and fragmenting-.

CRACK!

The bone loses integrity and crumbles, the wizard collapsing onto his chest a moment later.

Antelopeman drop-kicks me in the chest, but it's mostly physical force and my inertia shield can soak it. I grab him with an orange claw construct, slam him to the ground and apply the sonic cannon to his head. This close I feel the woom and see the dust shoved aside as the antelope skull crumbles and then his does. Again, the wizard goes limp once I'm finished.

"Doctor, please respond."

I glance up as-. As two fire wizards bombard him with white hot elemental fire. He gestures, and the air bends around him and redirects the fire at… Not sure what that wizard does, but the fire completely consumes them.

"I em well!"

Alright, thinning the field. As long as none of them get back up again, I think we can clear them up without too much-

I deploy construct chains and lash them around my body as I think it, just in case.

-difficulty.

And I hit someone.

I turn as Ged looks at the clay arm my chain construct is embedded in. Then his body roils, hard earth and stone expanding to turn him into a war golem. Which would be easy to deal with if I had any mage-slayers left.

Try the sonic cannon.

Compliance.

The clay ripples weakly but doesn't fall apart, because he can hold it together with magic just fine.

Fine. Dismiss constructs. Not like I get anything out of fighting him myself.

I turn and fly towards the pyromancers, replacing my sonic cannon with cold guns. Two shots-. Yes, good, no more fire wizards, and I send a couple of regular railgun slugs into each of them to make sure they're shattered.

"You are both skilled in your arts."

I turn back to Ged, trying to work out what the most efficient way to kill him is.

"And you will not fall here. I was deluded in thinking-. I will see if she has a better idea."

His golem body… Petrifies, and goes still.

That's a problem, but for now we've got zombie wizards to put down.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
15:12 GMT +2

I watch as Dr. Balewa gestures, and the ranks of bones sink beneath the earth.

"Er…"

"I have placed wards. They will not rise agaiyn."

"Ah, I assumed that you'd do that. It's just…"

He regards me dubiously. "I would not recommend planting explosives. This is a wildlife reserve now."

"So no one's going to be digging?"

He bows his head slightly. "Please do not plant explosives." He closes his eyes and then turns his head towards me. "You have already-."

"Just because it's sensible, that doesn't mean that I've done it."

"Thet, I know."

"I was actually wondering if you wanted to know if any of them were related to you."

"I was not eh chaste man. I would not be surprised if most of them were, to some degree."

"Then I won't worry about it." I sigh. "I don't suppose you know how to fix my railgun rounds, do you?"

"No. I have been trying to learn Atlantean magic, but it is not my focus."

I don't miss my shots often, but going full automatic against people with exotic dodging techniques resulted in a grand total of three misses. One hit a rock and deformed, so that's two usable mage-slayer rounds left.

"I did a soil analysis. They were made from the same clay that Henry King Senior was repaired with."

"I em not surprised, but it is good to have it confirmed. Do you know where it came from?"

"Right here. Do you think it was Ged?"

"No. He said that they were reanimated by someone else."

"And you think he was being honest?"

"He may not heff been, but he was honest about theh reanimation spell coming from elsewhere. I could feel the shape of it."

"Okay, good. Any clue where it came from or who the caster was?"

"Thet I do not heff. I would know if it I saw it again."

"How are you at passing through unearthly realms?"

"It is my job."

"I caught one of the spells that the fire wizard hit me with, and I'm keeping it in the Honden. Are you going to be alright if I bring you there?"

"Yes." He nods. "Yes. As I said, it is my job. And I em quite good at it."

"Okay." I hold out my left hand. "Make your preparations, and then whenever you're-" He takes my hand immediately. "-ready-. Okay. Here we

are."

That's interesting. Dr. Balewa isn't… Orange, or obscured by a spell that's keeping him separate. Instead, most of him is faded into the background with glowing white lines which look… A little like an aboriginal Australian design.

He looks around for a moment in a mildly interested fashion, and then focuses on the spell.

"Hmm."

"Does it mean anything to you?"

"Why did you put it here? Wouldn't you usually feed its power to theh Ophidian?"

"It struck me that if I drew the power into my tattoos, he might have been able to set my soul on fire."… "Is that possible?

"Ehhh... It would not be simple to convert theh spell, and he did not know your nature. I would heff guarded against it were it cast at me, but I do not think thet you needed to."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"It is interesting." White strands extend from him and coil around the spell "Unintelligent undead cannot cast spells. Even intelligent undead thet I heff met have been limited. Without a normal connection to the Earth's magic energies, it is not possible."

"I know that from personal experience. So… Something was using them as a reagent? Or… Focusing aid? Casting spells through them?"

"Just because I know thet it is true does not mean that it is true. Ged… Surprised me."

"Because he's undead and using magic?"

"I suspect thet he menaged a partial transubstantiation. I em not certain thet he is truly dead."

"How much of a threat is he?"

"With cities as dense as they are now? He is far more dangerous then he was when he was eh man."

"Do you think that he knows that?"

"No. But I will not bet their lives on that belief."

It looks like whatever he's doing is… Teasing bits out of the spell, unbinding it, which… Well, he couldn't be able to match the signature anymore, but I assume that he learned enough that at his level of skill he can just remember it.

"What are you doing?"

"If I em correct, and the clay-clad bones we saw were vectors for the magic of another, then there should be something of the magic of the original wizard who formed them."

I smile. "And you didn't get that while we were fighting them?"

"I was occupied. Or did you not wonder why you did not explode in theh first four seconds."

"I didn't, not after you spent the whole walk here doing your contemporaries down. But if that was you, thank you."

"Theh brute force magics they use are harmful to certain people. Magicians ken be harmed, but would usually know how to shield themselves. You cannot, and you saw how they struck you through your wards and sigils."

"Alright. I apologise for my gibe."

"I do not say this for my ego. I say this because I do not want for you to die. You know that I do not like 'superhero' as eh concept. I appreciate that though you wish to alter society, you do so as a normal man might. It is an unusual display of restraint."

"It's because I want to see how things go. Fiddling around with complex systems can make all sorts of thing go wrong."

He nods with a small smile, then dismisses his spell.

"I believe that I have a trace. Let us see what we find."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th September 1995
21:23 GMT -5

"…that we put a sign on the roof for fliers and climbers, and make sure that the drop-off point has one as well." I modify the construct image of the upper levels of the mansion with what I have in mind. "That way a potential student won't risk being disintegrated."

Scott nods. "That looks like a good idea. I honestly hadn't even considered that a visitor might not just use the front door."

"Well, to quote Blade, 'Some Mother Hubbards are always trying to ice-skate up hill'. Though his.. usual reception probably doesn't help."

"I always assumed Spider-Man was a mu-." He stops himself, and I smile, and while I can't see his eyes his head tilts in a way which makes me think he's seeing me smile, and then he smiles a little too. "An x-gene mutant."

"You just wait until I prove it's not a mutation. Everyone on the planet's going to look really stupid."

"So what you're saying is, he's a mutant and we're not."

I nod. "Yes, if he described himself as a mutant, I wouldn't argue it."

He nods as he goes back to reviewing the security recordings. "How did that happen? Did he get bitten by a radioactive spider?"

"We're not sure how radioactive it was."

His head jerks back to me. "I-. I was joking. Radiation can't just give people powers."

"Not usually. But the Empire State University was working on something called a 'neogenic recombinator', which was.. designed to transfer genes from one creature to another. The spider got hit during a demonstration, then bit him. And, er… A giant pulse of gamma radiation is what turned Doctor Banner into the Hulk, though… He probably had an underlying abnormality that was supercharged by the radiation, rather than acquiring it from the radiation whole cloth."

"Is it still in use?"

"The recombinator?" I shrug. "Well, secret identity; he can't just walk up to the people who made it and say 'you should really be more careful with this'. On my, um… My original Earth, experimentation with human chimeras was illegal, but that was just foetal experiments. We didn't have any way to do something like that to adults."

"Chimeras?"

"Creatures with physical parts from different species. The mythological chimera had a ram's head next to its main lion head, and a snake's head and body in place of a tail."

"Did that get banned because someone actually did it?"

"I don't know. It wouldn't shock me, but… My original Earth doesn't have superpowers. It has glow-in-the-dark mice with human ears stuck on their backs. And the ear didn't even grow there: they had to stick it on later. Human chimeras wouldn't have superpowers either; they'd just have huge health problems if the foetuses were viable at all."

"Spider-Man got superpowers."

"I suspect that's something to do with the differences between this reality and my home reality, rather than it actually making objective rational sense."

"I suppose you got lucky that our reality is so similar to yours. Oh, Alex wanted me to ask: what did you tell Multiple Man?"

"Why didn't he just ask Mister Madrox?"

"Because he didn't want to talk about it."

"I know that I'm not a doctor, but I still think it would be a fairly huge violation of his privacy if I just told people about it."

Scott nods, obviously trying to work out how to balance the conflicting desires of his brother and his friend. "Is it dangerous?"

"Not to anyone else. It's an aspect of his power that he hadn't considered before. But it wouldn't be a risk to any of his-." Oh. Oh dear. "He's not a blood donor, is he?"

"How would I know?"

He might be. He might be.

"So… With a lot of powers, what 'counts' can seem a bit arbitrary, right?"

"Okay, I guess that's true. I don't know why it's ruby quartz specifically that blocks my power."

"And Anne-Marie can't drain trees, for example. Mister Madrox can create and absorb copies of himself. But what counts as a copy? Is a severed arm a copy? Is a cancerous growth something that could get absorbed?"

Scott nods. "Or a pint of blood in someone else's body. Alex needs to know that, and so does the base's doctor."

"I mean, that wasn't what the actual issue was, and I like to think that no one's stupid enough to use blood from people with powers for non-autologous transplants unless they've tested it really thoroughly."

"My blood's fairly normal."

"I'd still be worried that there were a lot of small differences that blood banks wouldn't think to test for between abnormal blood and baseline blood. Not all of the changes the x-gene makes are outwardly obvious. Um. But the actual problem Mister Madrox has is whether or not his power would register any of his children as being part of him."

Scott tenses.

"Oh.. God, that's horrible."

"Yes." I nod. "It might not be a problem and I can go back and test it with tissue samples tomorrow, but I thought I should warn him about the possibility as soon as possible. And while we're on the subject… About… Your decision not to have children."

He exhales and turns away from the screen. "I'm not saying that you're irresponsible to be doing it. I'm sure you can keep your children safe from just about anybody. But I'm not sure I could. And even if the mansion was completely safe… Which it isn't." I nod. "I'm not sure what kinda quality of life they'd have."

"Either the Friends of Humanity dies down to the level of a normal hate group… Or people aren't capable of learning to be better and I go and build a colony on another planet, I guess."

"Can you actually do that?"

"Not quickly. I'd have to either find a compatible planet, or find someone who can walk me through the process of terraforming somewhere. And then there's soil microbes and things like that. It's possible, and I'd consider it as a major… Failure if things got that far." Hm. "Do we want to actually go after them?"

"How do you mean? We can't just attack the Friends of Humanity."

"America has strong free speech laws, but despite the constitution a lot of places have laws against weapon ownership, and obviously assault is illegal. So we investigate them. If we can come up with watertight cases, we can try and make sure that we get district attorneys and judges who are prepared to do their jobs without fear or favour like they're supposed to. If we lose cases, then we appeal it upwards, and force superior courts to either rule our way or openly and blatantly violate the law themselves."

He nods. "And what then?"

I give him a shallow smile. "It's probably best that I don't tell you."

"Alright." He nods slowly. "That sounds like a good idea. Can you find a few places where they're breaking the law and let me know? I'll talk it over with the Professor when he gets back."

I nod. "Can do. Unfortunately, I don't think it'll be a short list."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
12:44 GMT -2

"Are you sure that you're alright?"

We're… Very deep here. I'm not sure if this is an ocean trench or something the Atlanteans dug out, but it extends far below the normal seabed.

"With theh spell I em using, if I was not 'alright', you would know because of theh 'squish'."

"But you're not depending on just one spell, right? There's a good chance that any defensive spell here was made by an Atlantean-."

"I fear thet given your origin it would be in poor taste to ask if you ever taught your grandmother how to suck on eggs. Perhaps I should ask instead if you are relying on your ring?"

"No, my armour's rated for this depth, and I've got an emergency teleport system set up in Bir Tawil. I'm not trying to insult your knowledge or power, I'm just aware that you're not completely used to operating as a superhero. Or working with other people a lot. In a life as long as yours, a year really isn't all that long."

I pick my way around what was either a magma vent or a lump of rock designed to look like one.

"Most years are not so long. This year, and the one before it?" In the augmented vision my ring provides, I see him smile. "Even the days are memorable. I could tell you more about them then I could the last century."

"Really? I'd have thought that decolonisation would have left an impression."

"Not really."

"Two world wars?"

"Most of theh fighting was in Europe, or theh very north of Africa. Apart from eh few foolish attempts to gather objects of magic power, which I stopped."

"Foolish because Wolf Krieger wasn't on your level?"

"How many just objects do you think thet there are?"

"I don't know. A few? Adom's necklace and Isis's necklace would have been available back then, and Isis's necklace didn't have any protections other than big piles of rock."

"And eh lack of legends concerning its location."

"Nabu's helmet? I found their old burial chambers."

"Nabu could guard himself."

"No he couldn't."

"Theh people fighting had eh handful of wizards of note, and those were focused on fighting one another. Theh explorers were minor magicians or grave robbers. If they did not heff a clue, they would not find anything."

"Have you ever considered writing-?"

Dr. Balewa stops, studying a rock mound in front of us.

"I belief… We are here."

"Here being..?"

He raises his right hand, and… An illusion peels away from the rock, showing a… Giant glowing rune. I think it's a signature rune, a marker point for binding other spells, rather than one that does something itself. That doesn't really explain why it's here.

"Any ideas?"

"Mm."

Probing it, right. I do a slightly more detailed scan of our surroundings, but it's just rocks and deep sea creatures.

"Ah."

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I belief thet I understand. It is eh part of the great spell which brought Poseidonis to theh surface."

"How did that work? I mean, I was never really clear how an entire continent 'sunk', but I'm even less sure how it went back up again. The amount of magma that would be required to support it must be huge."

"I was not there, though I deed feel it. I… Suspect that the bedrock it rested upon was moved to another realm. And theh land above could not float."

"But Atlantis was the biggest authority on magic in the world. I mean, wasn't it?"

"In terms of knowledge, certainly. In terms of power, their unwillingness to make pacts with spirits limited them in some ways. Eh trade they willingly made, but not one without drawbecks."

"Do you know who did it?"

"No. But… I know that thes was not made during the last six months. Thes is much older."

"If you had to guess..?"

"It is impossible to say with accuracy. Pe'haps five thousand years?"

"That's Queen Gamemnae's work, then."

"Thet would make sense. She is supposed to have raised theh city too."

"Did you ever meet her? You were around-."

"No. They seldom came so far south as I lived. And you know thet I do not care for demigods."

"So… Okay. Did someone use clay from here for the reanimations?" Rock scans suggest 'no', but, magic. "Were they using this magic to disguise their own? Is it some.. spell of hers?"

"I do not know." He waves his hands to reset the disguise, then turns back to me. "Do you know where we could go thet would heff records of her work?"

"Atlantis remembers her as a menace and a tyrant. I don't know if they have any written records and I doubt that they'll be super-eager to share. That leaves Mister Hall, Teth Adom and Rama Khan."

"And I suppose that only Rama Khan would have objects which she touched with her magic."

"Maybe. It's been five thousand years. He was a young man back then. I'm not sure how much of it he remembers but he might have some knickknacks lying around."

"We should speak with him first, then. But… First…"

He looks around for a moment, and the ground… Shimmers.

"Just in case someone comes back here."

"Right. India, then."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
13:46 GMT -1

Jamie shakes his head. "So how rich is he, d'you reckon?"

Stevie snorts. "Rich enough."

"No, no, like… Seriously."

Richie frowns. "What, you think he can't pay us? Not very heroic?"

"No, I mean… Okay, it's not a massive amount of money-."

"It's not bad." Stevie shrugs. "Not for a few days work. More'n we made robbing places."

"Yeah, I know that. It's…" He knows that he's struggling to put it into words. A 'C' at G.C.S.E. means that you can read and write, not wax lyrical about matters of social philosophy. "He just agreed to pay it, right?"

Richie clearly isn't following. "You're the one who talked to him."

"Okay, yeah, he did. Enough I'd agree, but not enough to make me suspicious."

"He didn't know about the clay zombie things either. And all we did was sit there with the martian starfish and the hot fishgirl."

Stevie looks incredulous. "'Hot'?"

"You know what I mean. I'd do her."

"She probably spawns, weirdo."

"But if we can return to the point…" Jamie glares at the other two, particularly given that they're on the topic that made him decide to stay above the water. He might not be much of a scholar, but he can look up 'do sharks have penis' on a search engine. Might not be a problem if they turned into dolphinfolk or something… Robbie definitely kept his penis when he turned into a seal. "He didn't actually ask us any of the stuff he wanted us to find out."

Stevie isn't following. "Yeah?"

"So he's just paying us, and it's so little money to him that he doesn't care if we actually do the job or not."

Richie stops swimming. "So we can just go home?"

Jamie shakes his head, reaching out to grab Richie's dorsal fin as he passes and giving it a tug to get him moving again. "No, he's gunna remember eventually-. Or one of his friends will. Besides, I'd feel like a total prat if we turned around now. The point is, he didn't care."

"Right." / "Right?"

"So how rich is he?"

Stevie makes a show of giving it some thought. "One of them… Playboy millionaires with a secret identity?"

Jamie snorts. "Everyone knows his name."

"But what if he's got a different name?"

That-. Jamie blinks. "He can do that?"

Stevie shrugs. "If he's got a secret secret identity, why not? Not like Superman flies around telling everyone his name's 'Martin' or whatever. Or.. he.. would, if it wasn't Martin?"

Jamie could feel a headache coming on.

"The reason I'm wondering is, I'd rather do this for a living than be a binman. You two?"

Richie winces. "Dunno. This looks like something that could blow up in our faces, y'know?"

"And how is this-" Jamie angles his swim a little more towards the ocean floor as they approach an undersea cliff. "-going to blow up in.. our…"

Huh.

Stevie comes up along side him. "Our faces? We could find oooooooh."

Richie takes in the scene without speaking. Then he tries swimming backwards, then remembers that he can't, then he settles for quietly crawling backwards. Stevie and Jamie share a glance, then follow him.

"Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck." / "Fuck."

The three take a moment, and then exchange looks, silently promising to leave this part out of their reports.

That was a lot of zombies.

Richie breathes in slowly. "So-."

The other two glare at him.

"So there's all wizards, right."

The other two try to peel pack the panic obscuring their memories.

Jamie… Yes. He saw them all working on a glowing… Thing? It wasn't one of the… Three? Runes that he actually knew, but they were all pretty intent…

"Yeah. So now we know where the bodies all went."

Stevie frowns. "So why didn't the priests spot them? Isn't that, like, their one job? 'Make sure the corpses don't walk away'."

Jamie shrugs. "Guess after a thousand years of them not walking away, they just thought it wasn't gunna happen."

Richie frowns. "Did they look..? Like, fresh to you?"

Jamie… Can't really see it. But… "No. But they smell a bit… You know."

They both nod. They did know. Turning into sharkmen changed a lot of things, including the sort of thing they instinctively thought of as being food. Rotting meat? No problem. But it smell/tasted different to fresh meat. And then it got older, and…

The clay zombies didn't smell old. Not completely fresh, but freshish. Jamie didn't know exactly how long that meant, especially not under water. But… Atlantis had magicians for ages. If they turned them all into clay zombies, they'd have…

Uh…

Way more than that, anyway.

So, freshish corpses, mixed with clay, swimming around and doing magic.

His pride -the same pride that got him repeatedly turned into a sharkman and sent to a young offender's institution for eight months- makes him… Hesitates to flee. Retreat. The shark in him smells something not unlike food, and he knows that the Sha'ark got… Something out of eating that telepath. But that's a hoard of magical zombies, plus whoever's controlling them.

Time to leave.

"Alright, I think we've earned our money, hey?" The other two give him an awkward nod. "Let's get back to Nanauve and tell the king. This is…"

Richie and Stevie nod. "Yeah." / "Yeah."

They opt to crawl away a little further, even thought there's no sign that the zombies noticed them. Then they hug the sea floor in an attempt to make themselves harder to spot.

Not a terrible idea in most situations. But as it turned out? Completely useless here.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th May 2013
09:56 GMT -5

"No, Miss Zatara. I haven't seen anything like that."

Zatanna frowns as she flicks through a tome purporting to be from ancient Atlantis, cell phone floating next to her right ear. Which isn't a great description because it could be anything from a few hundred to a few thousand years old, or even older. And that's assuming that it wasn't a medieval European wizard using the name for advertising.

Paul likes visiting people in person when he wants to talk to them, but she didn't really need to visit Sanderson when a simple phone call would do. And unless Morpheus did give him a vision of what was happening, there wasn't… Much point in getting him involved.

"Is that something Morpheus would send you a vision about?"

"Oh, he sure would. It's usually small scale violent crimes or just about anything involving the Dream."

"So why do you think he didn't send anything this time, he just doesn't want you involved?"

"People being in a trance doesn't prove that what happened involved the Dream or Dream-related magic. It could be hypnosis, or mind control, or it might even be a result of sleep deprivation."

And this chapter is on… Atlantean raiding parties attacking coastal towns? Ugh, would it have killed someone to add an index to this stuff?

"Wouldn't that count?"

"No. Dream isn't-." He pauses, thinking for a moment. "He doesn't consider himself obliged to people. He gets annoyed when people use his realm improperly, but he doesn't care about little things and he certainly isn't interested in proactively protecting people. I don't think he'd make a point of telling me just because something was preventing people from sleeping."

"Can you feel it when someone uses Dream-magic, or do you just get visions?"

"I can feel Dream sand. Things from the Dream that enter the real world usually do so using small amounts of it they've found, and magicians can trade for it. But I'd have to be close to it."

"What about spells?"

"I.. don't think so. I mean, I haven't yet. It's not very common, so it hasn't happened very often."

"Okay."

"I'm.. sorry I can't be more help…"

"No, that's fine. I wasn't sure that it was something to do with the Dream, but I needed to make sure. And now we know that it's not, we can cross that off our list."

"In that case, I'm glad that I could help."

Oh, that's not-.

"Ah, yeah, thanks. Speak to you later. Gnah pu."

The cell phone turns itself off and floats over to a side table, slotting itself into its charging cradle as she focuses on the book. Because this part is supposedly a copy of an older scroll which…

"Etalsnart."

Which was a recording made for the Kahndaqi archives of negotiations between Teth Adom and Queen Gamemnae about Atlantis's borders and their military cooperation. Ah… Lot of stuff about kingdoms that don't exist anymore… And-.

Huh.

They knew that she raised… Part of Atlantis-.

Another Zatanna walks in, a book on magical uses of clay floating next to her.

"Found anything?"

She shakes her head. "Not unless we think they're all golems."

"Do golems have body parts inside them?"

She grabs the book out of the air and shows her a page. "Apparently they can."

That's a.. lot of intestine.

"No, that's-"

She nods. "-too specialised. Those were mass produced. I don't think whoever did it made them one at a time."

She nods, agreeing with herself, and… Thinking that maybe Dad was right about spending more time with the girls from school. But when you're the best magician in your age group, who else are you going to do research with?

"Sanderson says that it's probably not the Dream."

"I don't suppose they just conjured huge amount of clay and propped Atlantis up on that?"

Could..?

She shakes her head. "Normal conjuration couldn't make that much and opening a portal that big to the Plane of Earth would have set off every detector the League has and knocked out every magician on the planet, including us."

"Unless Ahri'ahn is actually strong enough that he can conjure that much rock."

"If he was that strong it would be easier to just make Atlantis fly or something."

"But he's trying to restore it to the way it was. Even if he could make it fly, he wouldn't want to."

"So… What does he want to do?"

She glances back at her own book. Apparently, Queen Gamemnae used prisoners as slave labor, which isn't too odd. But according to the official Atlantean history, they weren't criminal-prisoners so much as anyone who disagreed with her. Which isn't strange for human history but was against Atlantean tradition. And if she hadn't had people who supported her then she wouldn't have been able to rule.

"Everyone knows that he made the spells that remade normal humans as Atlanteans. But even after all this time we don't know how or why the Sinking happened."

She nods. "So he didn't reverse it for the good of Atlantis. He reversed it because it was a personal insult. Because he couldn't stop it."

"Maybe. But it's not like anyone else really cares if Atlantis is on the surface or not. The only people who'd really object are other Atlanteans."

"That's got to annoy him."

She frowns. "It's been thousand of years. He can't be mad at them for not caring about something their ancestors went through."

"Or he could be really mad about it."

She raises an eyebrow. "Mad enough to attack his own people with zombies?"

"They didn't really attack his people. Just us when we started looking into it. I don't know-."

The communicator beeps, and they both look at it.

"Egrem." / "Egrem."

She takes a moment to calm herself from the shock of having two sets of slightly divergent thoughts running on her brain… And then they integrate, two sets of memories integrating perfectly by her magic and the flexibility of the human brain. Then she picks up the communicator.

"Zatanna."

"Hey, Zatanna."

"Oh, hey Megan. What's up?"

"Cornwall Boy's friends found some clay zombie wizards. They were working on a rune but no one here recognises it."

Zatanna nods. Strange that Atlantean wizards would be working on something that other Atlanteans didn't recognise… "I can take a look?"

"Sending it now."

An image appears on the screen… She must have drawn it, because it's not a photograph, which means that she can't be sure that it's exactly right. She looks around the library for a moment, and at the whole section on runes and sigils from hundreds of different cultures.

No.

"Tahw si siht?!"

The stacks rumble for a moment, then a single slim book flies out and lands in front of her, open at a page… Yes, that's the rune.

Oh.

"Apparently it means something like… 'Joy'."

"Oh. That doesn't sound so bad."

"Forcing people to enjoy what you want them to is a pretty successful form of mind control. I'll read up on it and tell you more later."

"And I'll get King Sha'ark to put a strike force together. I'll let you know how it goes."