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

[Mr Zoat]

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggghhhhh
Darn it

I open my eyes even before I'm fully conscious, and realise that that probably wasn't the sensible thing to do. I'm… Lying in an open-top sarcophagus riddled with Apokoliptian technology. I… Can't move? No, I can a little, but I think that someone's.. turned the gravity up or something.

Good to hear from you again, Lantern Grayven.

I frown.

I've been taken prisoner and-

I look down and see that both rings, Mother Box… All my equipment is still in place.

-they left me with you?

These people aren't stupid. That means that either the mechanism they used to subdue you prevented them from removing them, or they consider them to be irrelevant.

Easy way to-

A vague yellow glow forms around my right hand, failing to form any sort of stable object.

-find out."

Curious.

I'd like a little more than that.

The strength of your constructs is based on-

The fear I inspire, I know.

-the fear you inspire is the most important factor, yes, but there are others as well. The fear you feel can be used. Indeed, it's necessary to form the initial connection, though constructs created purely using such fear are… Initially unreliable. As you learn to command your fears, they improve. But the ring will respond to general, background fears as well, providing you with a basic level of construct strength.

So what does that mean?

A sophisticated empathic barrier, most likely based on the 'soul power' of whichever New God has taken you captive.
-
I'm.. not.. feeling anything. And-. Hang on, if I'm cut off from emotions in some way, how are you still funct-? Wait, are you mentally sophisticated enough to have your own fears?

I can't make any direct comparisons to my former organic self, but I believe so.

Oh. Sh-shazbot. Look, if you want a physical body or something I can sort you out-.

Focus on the present situation, Lantern Grayven.

I can barely move. Can't use-. Ring?

A misty orange glow.

Can't use my rings. Mother Box?

P-ping?

She sounds pained, as if straining to 'ping' at me from a great distance away. I don't know if she can be repaired if whatever's happening here seriously damages her.

Mother Box, do something about this.. device if you can without damaging yourself. Otherwise, don't worry about it. Just remain calm.

Ping.

I try triggering the aero-discs in my boots. Nothing.

Hm.

"Giving up?" Give Up.

A man in black and purple walks into my field of vision from the side of the room. And it appears that I'm upright. The design of his costume is fairly close to what Scott wears, but I can't feel anything Anti-Lifey from him. Which means that he's hopefully not a mind-controlled Scott. Of course, I'm not feeling anything else…

Hang on. Didn't he work for Solomon Grundy in the comics, when he tried to do… Something or other with Red Tornado?

"Doctor… Nobody, right?"

"Doctor Impossible."

"Really?" I frown. Wasn't he a Soon I Will Be Invincible character? Wouldn't that have caused a law suit? And where the heck did I get Doctor Nobody from? "Is there a reason why you're dressed like my brother?"

He regards me disinterestedly for a moment, before stepping back out of my visual range.

"You claim that Scott Free is your brother?" Helpless in my Power.

And there's.. me. Straighter hair than the Universe 16 version, and the armour is a little less ornate, but basically the same in appearance terms. His expression on the other hand… He's genuinely curious, whereas Grayven 16 went right to 'hostile' immediately.

"Yes. Yours too."

"Highfather's son is no brother of mine." He takes a step closer. "What are you? When I heard from the Thanagarians that they had encountered me on.. 'Earth', I had assumed that they were simply mistaken. I was prepared for an impostor, but you matched me. You're a New God." He turns his head to look in the direction Doctor Impossible walked in. "You see? I thought it unlikely that you would be the only one."

"The readings are inconclusive. He could be anything."

"Parallel universe, actually."

"Really." He gives me a closer look. "The face is different, but I suppose that your life has been somewhat different to mine."

"I'm also less proud of my abdominals than you are."

He seems mildly amused. "Have you lived around aliens for so long that you've picked up some sort of.. body-squeamishness?"

"Did you live around Father for so long that your first response to everyone is to demand that they kneel?"

"Father? Hardly. Now that Darkseid is dead, I see no reason to prevaricate. I lead, my followers follow. That is simply the way things will be." Mine is the Majesty!

"How limiting." Cultivate Excellence. "You're using Apokoliptian technology to augment their ships. Don't try and tell me that having them kneel isn't a part of the ritual binding you use to reinforce that connection."

"Very well; I won't. Gordanians have many valuable qualities, but they have no knack for spiritual communion."

"Is that why you wanted the thanagarians so badly? The Seven Devils certainly aren't around any more."

"No. That's why I want Earth."

 

[Mr Zoat]

I beg
Your pardon?
"Yes, you should."
"At the risk of hypocrisy…"

"I may have left Apokolips long ago, but that doesn't mean that I'm ignorant of what occurs there. Darkseid wanted Earth, valued its acquisition enough to spend significant amounts of time focusing his efforts and those of his Elite in attacking it."

"He got fixated on Kal-El, and took it personally when he didn't easily win. A poor decision on his part." Responsibility of Sagacious Rulership.

"Yes, one of many. But Kal-El is hiding powerless in his arctic hermitage."

"He was hardly the only reason."

"Yes. Kara In-Ze thwarted Darkseid's effort to destroy human civilisation with a comet. But Kara In-Ze is stranded on Thanagar, along with the rest of her Stormwatch colleagues. Not to mention several of the surviving Justice Lords." He gestures to me with his right hand. "And you dealt with SHADE and their Anti-Life fragment. And as for whatever's left… I have a fleet."

"Rayner could get Stormwatch back in plenty of time to attack your ships."

"Yes, and if I hadn't picked him up at the same time I did you, I may have had to hunt him down in person."

"What have you done with him?"

"I have secured him in a cell some distance from yours. Separated from his ring he's little threat."

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but why leave him alive?"

"If I were to kill him, the Guardians would simply anoint a replacement. And most likely revenge themselves upon me. No, far better to hold him incommunicado until after my conquest is complete."

"And… You think that will prevent him acting against you?"

"The Guardians have a record of acting against interstellar conquerors which can at best be described as 'patchy'. Once I establish myself, so long as I do not behave in a completely monstrous manner, it is unlikely that they will take any direct action. Lantern Rayner is far more manageable as a solo agent."

I catch myself about to nod, then nod anyway. Not like I would behave differently if I had his objectives.

"You're conquering Earth because Father couldn't?"

"Why would you assume there to be a single reason? Yes, when I conquer Earth I will prove myself to be a more capable ruler than Darkseid, but more than that: the authority I gain will bring the fools burning Apokolips down around them to heel."

"I suppose that will make it easier for you to kill them."

I blink, but now that I've said it… Yes. I could use a Fury, perhaps even all of them. But Granny Goodness, if she fell into my hands? Desaad? Even if they made willing noises, even if they actually submitted spiritually… They're just too… Not-With-The-Program. They'd take the initiative in stupid situations, monster it up for the heck of it.

Grayven 50 smiles. "Yes, it will. This is genuinely fascinating; I've never encountered anyone quite on my wavelength like this before."

"You implied there was another reason."

"I know what you did for former Green Lantern John Stewart. Humans can become as we are, their souls reforged by the power of the Source. You were right; Apokoliptian technology requires New Gods to use to its fullest extent."

"Human lieutenants can do more for you than gordanians or thanagarians. Lizarkons?"

"No better than the gordanians, and less reliable. It will be a generation before I will be able to trust them with anything significant."

"But do you know how humans get their god-names?"

"Not yet. But there are six and a half billion of them. I'm certain that I'll work it out before their population drops to unsustainable levels."

"Or you could ask for volunteers, which would generate less unrest and make it easier to control the independent variables."

He frowns. "That doesn't sound like me. Why are you so hesitant?"

"Because I'm permanent; here for the long term. Yes, grabbing people off the streets makes a bigger impression but it doesn't get you the solution any faster. With six and a half billion potential volunteers you're not going to run out of willing participants any time soon, and with no other New Gods working with you you'll have to do everything yourself anyway."

"But making an impression makes it easier to ensure compliance with my domain powers."

"Not being an arse about it means that you don't have to use them in the first place."

"That explains your relative inability. Still… There may be something in what you say. How much of the Earth of your parallel have you conquered?"

"I don't directly rule any of it. I've deliberately tried to avoid doing anything so divisive. I'm heavily invested in a few places, but making it look like local work prevents other interested parties complaining too loudly. Ultimately, I want people to acknowledge me as their sovereign because I represent a more appealing prospect than their alternatives. How did you take over the gordanians?"

"I made an offer to the survivors of a small clan, educated them, built them up and then used them to dominate others until I was hailed as Chief of Clan Chiefs."

"You were recognised as legitimate because you co-opted their social conventions. Human society does not have an equivalent mechanism."

"Then I'll build one." He shakes his head. "I'm really not sure why you're so insistent on soft-pedalling them."

"Every time you wilfully, unnecessarily make an enemy, you create an extra opportunity for things to go horribly wrong. Why are you in a hurry? What do you lose by soft-pedalling them?"

"Pride." "Military conquest."

"My Lord Grayven." At the very edge of my vision I see a… Tamaranian woman? "The fleet is ready."

"Good." He turns away from me and activates a view screen. "I am aware that you have been augmenting the Justice Lords' home with Apokoliptian technology. No doubt that was how you arrived on Thanagar without me immediately feeling it." The screen shows a view of space as seen from his ship's approximate position. "And of course that could be used to bring your allies back."

A giant, ship-scale-. No, fleet-scale boom tube opens in the region of space directly in front of the point of view. Through the tube and off to the right I can just about see Earth and its moon, while the foreground is rapidly filled with gordanian ships. Hro Talak's prediction coming true a few months late.

"Target acquired, my lord."

"Charge and fire."

Nothing happens for a moment, then there's an explosion in near-Earth space an instant before a red beam connects it to this ship. The firing pattern of the hyperblaster main gun.

"Advance."

The point of view leaps forward an instant later, the gordanian ships falling aside and…

The wreckage. There isn't all that much left, but… There were only two things of any size in near-Earth orbit. And those parts aren't Thanagarian. He just shot the Watchtower. Rex, Batman, the genomorphs.

Sunset.

I try to stretch out my arms, pushing against whatever energy field is keeping me here! I Will Overcome!

"No, you won't."

Grayven smiles smugly as I make no progress. "Fond of them, were y-?"

"Life=Pain."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Life=Pain.
Life=Pain.

The girl I took into my home, took into my family, the bright and vibrant young thing who blossomed under my tutelage was just casually killed by my alter-ego.

Grayven cringes and grabs his head while the tamaranian takes a fighting pose, a glowing starry-blue claw forming around her right hand. I walk out of the upright sarcophagus, my steps leaden.

I remember her infectious enthusiasm, the joy she felt at arcane discovery and her anticipation for her return to Equestria, where now I will not even have a body to return to her former mentor.

"Anti-Life, he gave you-!"

"My Lord?"

Her face her face her face her face-

"No. You can't control it!" He smiles, an expression I'll never see on Sunset's face again. "I will learn so much from your-."

"Pain."

He staggers. "No no! You-!"

"There's nothing to control. It just is."

"Madman!"

"Every action you take, every thought you have."

The tamaranian's claw strikes my armour, biting at it but failing to penetrate.

"Life."

She looks up to the sky and admires the beautiful fires in the sky which she learns were the Citadel and gordanian landing craft when one drags her away-

"Ah!"

-to begin her life as a valueless slave. She will be violently raped for the first time that evening, back before she learned not to try fighting back.

She stumbles, half-collapsing, her claw fading away into nothing.

"Pain."

"Tube!"

Boom!

"Life."

Grayven darts forward to grab the tamaranian, then dives for the tube opening. I could follow, but why bother? It works out the same anyway.

Life=Pain

I made Lynne a safe home, and now one of her friends is dead. It was bad enough when Father showed up, but this? The idea that any of her friends could just be gone in a moment will drive her to shut down once again.

Why am I even standing? It will…

Why did I chase them off?

I-.

Sunset's dead. Rex is dead too, from events his infant mind couldn't begin to-.

"Grayven? Oooooh no."

I look up as Scott tries to decide whether to leave the room or not. It won't matter. In here is the man who brought him to the attention of his Grayven, out there the angry New God who has certainly decided that keeping him alive is no longer necessary.

"Anti-Life infection. Mother Box?"

"Ping." / "Ping-g."

"But just a little one. Ah, okay."

He leads the gordanians away from the refugee extraction point, smiling as he dodges around their fire and the force fields close around him and his instinct-

"Yeah, but that was then-" He steps forward, taking hold of my hands. "-and this is now." Always a Way Out.

-deserts him-

"Which was pretty scary, I don't mind telling you-"

Fear.

"-but it just made me want to get free that much more."

...

"Uuuuhhuuhuhuh."

"Yeah, you can say that again."

I'm shaking as I meet his eyes.

"You know, out of the two Grayvens I've met, I definitely like you the best."

Sunset's dead-. No, no, that way lies the death spiral.

"You're.. only joint first, for Scott Frees. Your Barda's bringing up the rear."

"What did you do?"

"I've got an Anti-Life fragment inside me. The-. Your Grayven destroyed the Justice Lords' Watchtower. A dear friend of mine was probably on it, and the son of a couple of other friends. I was trapped in that-" I glance backwards at the machine, whose tron lines are gently smoking where they tried coping with the Anti-Life and came up short. "-device and it was the only way I could come up with to get out."

"Well, thank you. I was trapped in another one until you did that. The guy in purple and black was blocking me somehow. Constantly changing what the Sarcophageus was doing to keep me inside."

"'Thank you'? She's dead, Scott-."

"Not necessarily. Batman… Is a very cunning man. They might have made it out. You don't know that she's dead."

"I-." Intellectually, I know that he's right. There are ways they could have escaped. And I know that how I'm feeling is an effect of Anti-Life exposure. I should focus on the feeling of hope in order to free myself faster.

But I'm just not feeling it quite yet.

"Barda?"

"Somewhere else, I hope. Mother Box?"

"Ping."

"Looks like black-and-purple is blocking my boom tube again. Can you get up?"

"I think.. so."

I plant my right hand on the floor and push, get my feet back under me…

Sinestro?

Still here, Lantern Grayven. Please try to avoid situations where you might need to do that again.

Will.. do.

I nod to myself. "Where do we go from here?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:08 GMT -5

"He was preparing to leave when we arrived."

Scott checks both directions, his multi-cube set to a sensor-disrupting configuration.

"You bet he was. I doubt he was expecting you to turn up, but this whole set-up was definitely intended to lure Stormwatch away from Earth." He glances back at me. "How are you holding up?"

"I'll have nightmares for weeks. And I'll need Scott Sixteen to check the containment; I probably wrecked-"

Sunset frantically shields herself with magic as the station is destroyed around her, her weak defence lasting just long enough that she knows that she'll die before it breaks and her lungs collapse. She shouldn't have come here.

Hinon's words ring true and the Dog Soldiers burst through the walls, their blasters scything down the few who dared dream-.

"Whoowph." Freedom from Limitations.

I pick myself off the floor as Scott holds his Mother Box up to me. I feel… Better…

"Ping."

"How exactly did the other me contain it?"

"'Exactly'? I don't know. He said that he made a pearl from my soul to surround it. I felt better after reaffirming each part of the emotional spectrum. Would you mind helping?"

"I'll do a lot of things to stop that leaking out again."

I nod. "Are we in the clear?"

"For the moment, sure."

I hug him, pulling him tightly into me. Scott takes a moment, then grips with his left arm so he can pat me on the back with his right.

"You know, for some reason, I never get this from Orion."

"Or Kalibak. You should visit. I can't imagine not having Lynne with me, and I owe that to you and Barda."

"Alright. After we deal with Grayven the Anti-Hugger. Ah. You gunna let me go..?"

"Yes." I release him. "But I may need to grab you again later."

"Alright." He peeks out of cover again, then leaps, sticking to the wall and scrabbling up until he reaches the ceiling. He then proceeds to scurry out of my line of sight.

I know that I wasn't entirely coherent last time this happened, but I remember feeling really weak. This time… I didn't feel any physical weakness when I used the Anti-Life fragment against Grayven and the tamaranian. Psychologically, yes, it was horrible… Darkseid certainly wasn't weak, for all the Anti-Life fragments he acquainted himself with. I wonder what was different this time?

Scott drops from the ceiling, twisting as he does so to land lightly on his feet. "One squad of guards who won't care whether we walk past them or not."

"Ah."

"Because I dosed them with something that inhibits their initiative."

"Oh. I wasn't sure-."

"Bodies would be a giveaway. Your alter ego would probably feel it if a soldier sworn to him died."

I nod. "True. I don't suppose they're coherent enough to know where Barda is being held?"

"No. I don't even know that she's on this ship." He holds out his Mother Box and waves her around for a moment.

"Ping."

"I suppose it's as good a direction as any other."

He leads the way down a corridor which looks to me like most of the others.

"Wouldn't Barda have broken free at the same time as we did?"

"Barda doesn't have the resistance to the Anti-Life equation that we-. Ah, that I do. She might not have got away before the Sarcophageus reactivated."

I should be thinking, but I can barely focus well enough to trudge after Scott. Frustrating as I'm sure this weakness would be if I could focus well enough to get properly angry, it's.. interesting. Grayven 50 fled rather than confront the Anti-Life, and I'm.. if not exactly skipping like a summer lamb, then at least functional.

"What do we do after this?"

"After we free Barda and Kyle?" I nod. "Try and stop Grayven. I don't think he'll destroy the Earth, but I still don't want him taking it over."

"Why?"

He stops, glancing back at me. "You do remember what I'm the god of, right?"

"Do you remember what I'm god of?"

"Ah. Actually, no. I don't think anyone ever told me."

Oh. "Conquest."

"Huh."

"I'll kill him for killing Sunset and Rex, but that's personal. If you look at the governments of Earth, why are you certain that Grayven is worse?"

He snorts quietly. "You or him?"

"Both, I suppose."

"Earth has hundreds of different ways of ruling. Grayven can use his divine powers to make himself supreme."

"Yes?"

"So that's it. No one will ever try out other systems of government again. I'm not just 'I'm free now', I'm 'I'm becoming free'. I'm recognising the value of freedom. I can live with a degree of tyranny as long as people can see it for what it is and fight against it. If Grayven takes over, that's it. No more systems, no more noble experiments, just Grayven, stamped on the face of the human race, forever."

How melodramatic. "Are you coming over all libertarian on me, Scott?"

"No, because I recognise that threats to freedom don't just come from governments." Break the Wheel.

"Heh. Tell you what: once I become an absolute autocrat of somewhere I'll invite you over and see if you can find any actual faults in the system I create."

"And if I do, you'll give it up?"

"No, I'll fix them. I want my people happy-. Well. Generally satisfied and happy at times. An external hostile viewpoint would be useful in identifying problems."

"I think you're missing the point."

"We are rather different people, but I prefer engagement to-."

The wall in front of us explodes, and-! Barda stomps through.

"Scott, you found him for me."

"Barda." He holds up his hands in a placatory gesture. "He's not the Grayven from this universe."

"I know. And?"

"We might need him." She appears sceptical. "And he's carrying an Anti-Life fragment. We don't know what happens to those when the one carrying them dies."

2nd Best Barda growls under her breath, then glances back through the wall rubble as a ringless Rayner emerges.

I nod to him. "Rayner. If you're injured, I've got a purple healing ray."

He nods. "Yeah. Thanks." I remove one from subspace and toss it to him. He catches it, examines it for a moment and then plays it over his body. "So. What's our next step?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:12 GMT -5

I frown. "Rayner, can you feel your ring?"

"N-."

"Oh, and is that motley of yours armoured?"

"No. I can't feel it and it's not armoured. I don't think I could get any armour on Earth that would stop a gordanian blaster."

Sadly, the closest New Gods have to a 'Jesus Christ' is standing next to me and wearing red, yellow and green and fiddling with his multi-cube. But how is this man still alive?

"Yes, if only you had a device which allowed you to travel to other worlds in search of better equipment. Rayner, I don't care if you want to be a prat when it's just your life at risk, but you're on a team with my brother and I'm not happy about you imperilling him. Here."

A basic plasmic shield generator attaches itself to his waist.

"You know, Kara tried to tell me you were faking the whole 'alien warlord jerk' thing, but you really weren't, were you? You're an alien, a warlord and a jerk."

"Yes, healing you and upgrading your equipment. What a jerk. Scott?"

"I think I got him." He nods to himself. "The other Grayven is preventing me from directly tracking his location, but this is an Apokoliptian ship. It's designed to allow the New God commanding it to feel the whole thing."

I nod. "And you and your Mother Box can track it back?"

"… No. But I can set up a boom tube that can take us right to him, wherever he is."

Barda pats the head of her mega rod against her left palm. "How close?"

"About ten feet away."

Hm. "We'll be surrounded, reinforcements will be upon us sooner rather than later and he can just boom tube away again."

"No, I can stop that. Not.. usually my thing, but 'freedom' includes the freedom to take the consequences. He could run on foot, but I don't think he will."

No, me neither. I raise my hands slightly, examining my rings. If we go through Rayner will die. Without a ring, he's basically useless even as a human shield. "Rayner, how good are you at focusing your fear-"

Lantern Grayven?

"-or your avarice?"

"'Huh' and 'don't know'." He follows my gaze. "Wait. Do you-?"

"You can't fight like you are."

"Hang on." Scott fiddles with the multi-cube a little more. "Oan technology should stand out. It's the only major thing around here that isn't designed to conduct God Speech."

Rayner and I watch him for a moment while Barda starts pacing. A moment later his proddings become less sure.

"Which.. also means that there's nothing to connect to it."

I shake my head. "Rayner, can you do remote ring control?"

"Yeah, close up. Not from the other end of a huge starship."

I sigh faintly and then step towards him, laying my hands on his shoulders. He looks a little puzzled, particularly when I make a point of rubbing them.

"Er… You wanna tell me-?"

"Scott, is him calling the ring enough for you to trace it?"

"Maybe. It might let Grayven know we're here, but since we're going to be moving anyway, I guess that doesn't matter."

"I'll boost your calling ability. On two?"

He frowns faintly, then nods. "One, two."

Stalwart Retainer's Determination.

"Oh Whaw. Ring, get over here!"

Rayner gestures towards one of the walls with his right hand.

"Scott?"

"Not.. sure. I think the ring's in the same place Grayven is."

I nod. "Makes sense. Can he use it himself, or have someone else use it? Maybe.. by cloning Rayner's skin to make a glove?"

"Why are you asking me about the interactions between New Gods and power rings?" He points at my hands. "I'd have thought that you'd be the expert."

"Jack of all trades, I'm afraid. Haven't really studied the interaction in any detail. Last time someone took one of my rings I stabbed them until they gave it back."

"Hm. Well, I expect that the Guardians of the Universe would give it better security than that, but there's still a cachet in wearing one. Particularly to species from Vega."

"Alright." I nod. "Rayner, get your ring back as fast as you can. Barda-."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I will attack targets of opportunity. You hang back and keep an eye on everything while your good lady wife does as she feels appropriate. All s-?"

There's a quiet puff sound as an object-. As Rayner's ring punches through a wall and lands on his finger.

I release his shoulders as construct armour flows over his body. "Good enough?"

"Ask the other Grayven. Watch Scott's back?"

He nods. Right then. Sword of the Fallen as a finisher, daiklave, fusion cannon as a chaff dispenser. Cast Down the Rival.

Barda takes position as close to me as she can stomach and then-

Boom!

-the tube opens and I'm charging through. Grayven's on a command dais ahead of us and to the left-

I take a blaster shot to the left shoulder as one of the more on-the-ball gordanians takes a shot. My return shot incinerates him and the three standing next to him.

-while next to him stands.. Bernadeth? What's she doing-?

Grayven's eyes glow for a moment, then a beam of red energy zigzags through the air. I counter by dumping a lump of steel directly into its path. The steel is vaporised when the omega beam hits it, the blast exploding across the room with enough force that I need to reinforce my armour to avoid being knocked back. Barda throws her mega-rod at Bernadeth, who darts aside and draws a short sword. Most of the explosion passed, I leap at my alter ego, daiklave slashing at his eyes. He activates his armour, causing it to expand to cover his entire body in solid metal plates, then steps forward, using the thick armour of his left forearm to expertly turn my blade aside.

I raise my gun to shoot him in the face as he fires his omega beams again.

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:16 GMT -5

His head jerks back as the stream of ions hits home, but he manages to redirect the omega beam, the glowing red lines hitting my fusion cannon construct-.

"Errugh."

Construct, destroying it with enough power left over to severely abrade the armour protecting my right arm. I know that Kal-El could take hits from Darkseid 50's omega beams without being disintegrated or disabled so I.. ssshould be able to do the same. But let's not take a chance.

Two hammer constructs slam into his head, first from the left and then from the right as I fabricate a quick-drying super adhesive. Kal-El disabled Darkseid 50 by covering his eyes and causing a flashback into his skull, and even if I can't replicate that blinding him would be pretty darn helpful. The hammers fade and fracture as they hit him, so I create a third and bring it down on him.

He intercepts it with the back of his right hand, obliterating it with casual ease. I stab my daiklave forwards, point aimed once more at his eyes, but he claps his hands around the flat of the blade and holds it in place. Resistance is Futile.

He presses, but the blade survives his effort even as I fail to push it forward.

"Resilient."

I could invest power in it and try and push through, matching my soul against his. But while my rings give me adaptability I'd be astonished if he didn't have the edge in raw power. And-

"But insufficient." Unstoppable Advance!

-the daiklave blade snaps, Grayven 50 smiling faintly as the shards fall to the ground. His smile obscured a moment later as I spray his face with my adhesive. I pull my hilt back and -no point keeping it- drop it to the floor as he swings for my face with his left fist. I turn the blow aside as he tries wiping the gunk coating his face off with his right, failing as it flexes under his fingers.

Okay, with all that armour his face is the only obvious vulnerable spot. Try using the Sword of the Fallen? No, not yet. I use my temporary hold on his left arm to pull him closer and strike his abdominal armour with my right knee. Ugh, the force of the hit lifts him slightly off the ground, but I'm pretty sure that his armour took all the damage. He's not braced against anything, striking isn't going to work.

Red light seeps out from the thinner bits of Grayven 50's facemask as ohshit. The covering atomises as a point blank graaagh!

"You may use the Anti-Life, but I was born to it. Moulded by it."

My face is on fire, every nerve screaming! Eyes blinded or gone. I haven't quite fallen but my stance-.

"A pale imitation."

I feel something strike me in the chest and the floor disappear beneath my feet. I get just long enough to think 'good, he's a clumsy fighter too' before I hit… Something, something which craters around me. I take a breath… Yes, breathing fine.

Sinestro, eyes.

At once, Lantern.

And I grab a chunk of deck and use it to block his omega beam shot just in time to prevent him shooting me again.

"I was getting tired of seeing my face on someone else's skull."

He walks calmly towards me, negligently grabbing a guard rail and throwing it to intercept a smash from Barda that would have crushed Bernadeth's skull. Rayner is using his armour to protect him as he takes pot-shots at targets of opportunity, though I see his personal force field shimmer as Doctor Impossible works out the green laser trick. Scott's taken cover from the fire from the remaining gordanian marines and is trying to do something with his Mother Box.

I take a minigun out of subspace and fire directly at Grayven 50's face, solid slugs hitting his still-glowing eyes and causing him to blink and cancel the omega bolt he was preparing. I step forward, an odd feeling coming from my flensed face as my nervous system tries to interpret input from exposed muscles and bone. As we're in near-Earth space my mana siphon will work to reassemble me, but I'm sure that I'm looking the worse for wear right now.

As we close the distance Grayven 50 reaches out and grabs the barrel of my gun, the motor fighting briefly against New God strength and burning out as the muzzle deforms under his fingers. I reach down with my left hand, draw the Sword of the Fallen and stab him in the chest as he smiles, confident in his victory. The Sword pierces his armour easily and-

"Too short a blade."

-doesn't reach his skin beneath before the hilt catches. I jerk it back just before he can bring his right hand down in an attempt to disarm me. Slash, and it turns out that the thick armour on his bracers is enough to prevent me striking his flesh there too. Still makes his head the only viable target.

Then his helmet extends up from his gorget and covers his head as well. Aside from the two glowing red wells which mark the location of his eyes.

Before he can fully adapt to his new visual field I take an iron beam out of subspace and smack him around the eyes with it before firing a heat beam, melting it onto the front of his new helmet. Doesn't look like it's really sticking, but it should buy me a moment.

I've got a small radion blaster, but much like how the thanagarian fighters had to blast through my construct armour in order for it to do anything, this armour… Definitely has some non-Apokoliptian elements. I switch my heat beam to a cold beam construct and fire it at his chest as he pulls off the lump of semi-molten metal and throws it at my face. I ignore it as-. No frost build up, his armour is-.

Hah. I redirect the beam to the stab hole I made a moment ago, the beam piercing the armour's insulated exterior for a moment and penetrating the internals.

"Hurr."

He half-turns to block the shot, interposing his right bracer as I move the construct to keep the puncture in sight. An omega beam lances out of his eye slits and destroys the construct but I'm already changing tack, punching him in the face plates the moment the beam fades away. I - won't - penetrate - it - but - it -doesn't - appear - to - have - a - self - repair - func-.

His eye holes flare red as he punches me in the right wrist with his right fist, his eyes glowing red again. This time I just fire a construct through his eye holes, trying to force a feedback blast by applying pressure to his eyes. There's a red flicker as the construct dies, but no actual beam, which is definite progress. Alright, just cut the fucking helmet off and then-.

Boom!

I spare a half-second to glare at my sort-of brother. "Scott!"

"It's inbound!"

"And?"

There's a click from Grayven 50's bracers. The one I stabbed doesn't really do much, but the other has an unsettling red glow-.

"Agh!"

Whatever healing my face had managed is undone as Grayven hammers his left fist into my face! Not a full-on omega beam but ow! My vision goes for a moment as it disrupts the constructs I'm using to see with, and I fly to the side to dodge any follow up attack as I reinstate them.

"Is that it?" "It appears that I am the superior manifestation of Conquest."

People coming through the boom tube… Granny Goodness. Right, construct armour covering my face and Apokoliptian armour, he's clearly Grayven, let's have her-.

"Grayven, dear child!"

Huh?

"Granny has brought her best helpers, as agreed."

"Good. Kill my brother, the traitor and the Lantern. I'll finish the impostor."

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:18 GMT -5

Yes, I suppose that I should have realised that Grayven 50 would have some sort of contact with the factions of Apokolips. On the other hand, Granny Goodness is wearing her default outfit and not any armour. But-. She's the faction leader. If I kill her, Grayven 50 can step into her place and take her resources. She might be willing to tolerate him at the moment but she doesn't work for him. Unless she.. thinks that he's a reasonable Darkseid stand-in? How loyal was she to Darkseid?

And the others? I'd rather rehabilitate the Kryptonian boy. That means that leaving Lashina alive gives me the best chance. She won't be happy if I kill the other Furies. On the other hand, is there any real way out of this that doesn't involve killing Grayven?

No. No there isn't.

Stompa leaps through the boom tube as Granny Goodness steps aside, angling her feet at Rayner. He evades easily, then robotic arm construct which grabs her and throws her at Mad Harriet, knocking the lunatic off her feet. Lashina comes through next-.

Grayven 50 returns his attention to me, his eyes glowing again. I drop a bucket on his head and then create jet engine constructs and blast myself across the room. Weak blaster shots pitter patter off my construct armour, and I intercept a ribbon from Lashina with the Sword of the Fallen. She tries to bind my weapon but her whip fails to entangle it before it slices the ribbon in two. She scowls under her mask and leaps at me with her severed weapon held between both hands so I slam a pile driver construct into her abdomen and shove her back.

Granny Goodness spots where I'm heading just fast enough to turn away and scramble for cover, but not fast enough to actually get away. I strike her in the back with a smile on my face, only my right arm wrapping around her shoulders preventing the impact from sending her flying. Seize the Initiative.

"Granny-." So Grows-.

I draw the Sword of the Fallen with my left hand and slash it across her throat, blood spurting across the deck as her arteries are severed. I'm not sure whether wounds from the Sword will kill New Gods outright or just prevent regeneration, but that should do it in either case. I release her and cancel my jet construct, allowing her soon-to-be corpse to slam into the wall as I use my ring to absorb my momentum. She ragdolls, blood still spilling from the wound as her left hand tries to grip her throat and her right-.

I dart towards her and grab her Father Box before she can call up a new boom tube. Mine Now. Then I grab her by the hair and hold her up.

"Now-!"
Unwilling Servant [subverts] Seize the Initiative.
The omega beam from Grayven 50 hits her in the chest. Her body explodes, though fortunately for me it's a clean explosion without any of that unpleasant goo-splatter.

"Granny!" ˥ǝssous ˥ǝɐɹuǝp.

Lashina's distraction allows Barda to get a solid hit to the top of her head, knocking her to the ground. Stompa and Mad Harriet appear somewhat discomported, while Bernadeth's too busy dodging Rayner's strikes to pay it any attention. I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised that Grayven 50 did that. We did both agree that she needed to die, and he did prevent me from showing off. On the other hand, he just acted against a member of the group the Furies belong to. He'll have a harder time getting them under control.

Whatever. I take a replacement daiklave out of subspace while frantically transmuting and x-ionising a series of metal darts just a little smaller than the eye openings of Grayven 50's armour. Then I march towards him. Unstoppable Advance.

His eyes glow and I grab a console, ripping it from the deck as I pass. The omega beams lance out and I move to interpose-. The beams slalom around to my left before darting back in, and I'm forced to dash forward to avoid being struck by them. They curve back around, but this time I just throw the console at them too quickly for Grayven 50 to redirect. I accelerate as the blast wave passes me.

"Hm." I Stand Inviolate.

Grayven 50's eyes glow again and I raise my right arm, forming a coilgun and loading an x-ionised dart. Track, aim for the left eye, fire!

The red light seeping from his helmet flares slightly just before the dart hits home, but he-

"Agh!"

-staggers anyway, his right hand instinctively rising to shield his injured eye and incidentally blocking my shot at his other eye. No matter. Three paces, two paces-

He drops his hand and one-eye omega beams me, striking me in the chest. "I will strike you down!"

Aaaaaaaaaaagggghhh! The pain is-. My armour smoulders and my ring flickers, but I can't stop! Grayven 50 takes a step back as I keep coming, his eye glowing-

"I will make your power mine!" "Your power will become mine!"

-another coilgun shot forces him to look away! I swing my daiklave across, biting into the right side of his helmet and knocking him off his feet! The helmet has a vicious tear in it where the daiklave hit -not enough, not unless he stops moving entirely, but I'll take it- and he's a little slow in rolling to his feet.

He gives me a one-eyed glare. Not By Strength,-

Something.. changes…

I duck, and the radion beam goes over my head. Who-? I look in the direction it came from and just catch the muzzle of a radion beamer poking through a hush tube. Given how brutal we are there are only so many New Gods who could pull that off-. Kanto.

-By Guile.

Orange light leaps out but the gun is withdrawn and the tube closes before it can penetrate. Great, my chest is still burning from the omega beam, my rib bones are.. humming, breathing hurts, and now this arsehole can make attacks of opportunity. And that wasn't a knockoff weapon like the thanagarians were using. The version used by Darkseid's personal assassin probably would punch through my ring-based defences.

No.

I swing my daiklave at Grayven 50 but he slams his right hand onto the floor, causing his whole body to leap off the deck and back to his feet.

How do I persuade Kanto to stop? Convince him that he's wasting his time on a lost cause?

I maintain two gun constructs, one loaded with darts and the other a cold gun. A freeze shot to Grayven's head probably won't kill him, but it will hurt. Rather than risk him wrecking my backup daiklave I keep it moving, swinging it in his direction. He's forced to assume a boxer's stance, his gauntlets up and ready to block serious shots as he backs up. I step forward a little quicker than he's expecting, blade slicing through his left guard. He retaliates immediately, right fist swinging at the flat of the blade -I pull it back- and then he surges forward, body checking me and pushing my daiklave aside. This close it's useless so I drop it, can't reach the Sword-.

His right eye glows next to my face as my ring and aero-discs struggle to keep me upright! Can't get the dart gun in place, but the cold gun-! I can't get a decent grip on him but I yank him left as best I can while tilting my head right-!

The cold beam hits his left eye hole, the beam continuing to pour on as he tries to maintain his focus-.

"Ruuuuuugh!"

He loosens his grip, pushing me back as he turns his head away. The omega beam leaps out a moment later, but he targets my construct rather than anything vital. It's destroyed, but now I can bring my hands up. I grab the Sword of the Fallen and swing it at the crack in the side of his helmet-.

And a blur in black armour punts me across the room!

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:20 GMT -5

I-

Wall!

-just about keep my grip on the Sword of the Fallen, but my construct needler and supply of needles are gone. No immediate follow-.

I see the gun muzzle and interpose a construct shield just before it fires, energy washing over it. The shield survives, but it's so heavily abraded that I abandon the construct as the gun retreats.

Would Kanto keep attacking if I killed Grayven? Can't really see the New God of Assassins stopping just because his sponsor is killed. On the other hand… Is he the New God of Assassins? I shouldn't assume that just because he's a New God who works as an assassin. He might well be God of Intrigue or something and Darkseid found him most useful as an assassin. If that's true, he wouldn't kill me unless there was some sort of payoff for doing so.

Grayven 50 is still standing, but there's a slight shaking in the damaged parts of his armour that suggests to me that it's taking an effort for him to maintain the front. Rayner is fighting the handful of Dog Soldiers who came through the boom tube before Scott shut it down while Barda and Stompa are whaling on each other with abandon, blood seeping from a dozen wounds on each. Scott and Doctor Impossible are.. dancing around one another, although I dimly get the impression that there's more going on than that.

Lashina has made her way over to the injured Grayven, her son floating protectively above them. Looks like they've made a few alterations to his helmet. I suppose that even in times of hardship the elite can generally get hold of what they need in order to remain effective.

"Lashina. Apokolips is a dung heap. I will offer you and your son sanctuary and a far higher quality of life than you presently receive if you'll step aside." Majestic Generosity.

"You.. killed Granny."

"I think he-" I point to Grayven. "-got in there ahead of me."

I remember in the comics that Parademon rather liked being tortured by Granny Goodness, and slept better after being seriously hurt than he did usually. With both Darkseid and Granny Goodness dead, Lashina… Probably doesn't know what she's supposed to be doing.

"There's no one to tell me what to do anymore."

I glance at Bernadeth. "Except Bernadeth, Desaad and… Kalibak? Look, even if you win… How do you benefit? You get the same position under Grayven that you had under Darkseid, only he's far weaker. The gordanians won't follow you, I doubt that you have the knowledge to control or repair this ship. Be sensible." I spread out my hands. "Heck." I toss Granny Goodness's Mother Box to her. "Feel free to just take off. Go somewhere nice."

"Ping."

"I…"

"Lashina." Grayven 50 pulls himself to his feet, left eye managing a weak and sporadic glow. "Obey me or be unmade." I Command Here!

The response is immediate and obvious. Lashina attaches the Mother Box to her… Belt-thing, then adopts a combat pose. "Kill him, my son."

I generate a reflective shield just in time to catch his heat vision, the thin line of wavering air bouncing off and striking Lashina's right shoulder. She winces and sidesteps to avoid it, but doesn't cry out or otherwise react. But I know what's coming next. Inertia shield. The boy spots what I'm doing an instant later and cuts it out-.

And he's in my face again, punching-! The shield soaks it again, but this time he's not committing to individual strikes so much and his hand doesn't get caught. Just a volley-.

There's a flicker of red from behind him and I throw out my legs, falling onto my arse as the omega beam blasts into the wall just above me. The boy kicks at my head but he's sufficiently distracted that I'm able to catch hold of his leg with my right hand. I grip it as tightly as I can but some combination of the armour and his innate toughness means that my grip doesn't do any damage. I get my feet back under me as he attempts to use his innate flight to loosen my hold. Not a good plan: experience tells me that he'd do better manually prying my fingers off. I use the opportunity to exert myself and smash him into the deck. Then stamp-.

Darn, he dodged! He kicks my left leg-. Ow, armour holds, but he's strong enough to hurt me anyway. How do-? Air, his armour doesn't have an air supply. Purification filters? Gold kryptonite dust, transmute it. He kicks again, and my leg goes out from under me. I don't fall thanks to my rings, but it's-.

Uragh! Do-wd! Nugh!

R-right! Cold zone! Let's see how well insulated that armou-!

The kryptonian stops, falling to the floor a short distance away from me, a film of hoarfrost covering his left side. I-. Shit, how do I breach his armour? My daiklave is.. over there, there's-.

I snatch a dart and stab it into the jaw area of his helmet. It penetrates, and I see a small amount of blood-. More gold kryptonite! Gold kryptonite laser!

"No!"

Lashina darts towards me and I take a step back, dismissing my constructs. "He'll be fine. I don't like killing children. Yield."

She slows to a stop next to her son, her eyes darting from me to him and back again. Then she picks him up and flees.

"Okay." I float slowly towards Grayven 50. The flesh on my face is now just about covering all of the bone, there's a wobbliness in my left leg which suggests that the bone's broken and I think I'll wait until my torso is healed up before returning to the Mountain-. Before confirming Sunset's death. "That it?"

His eyes are both flickering now. I think that cold beam did more damage than I was expecting.

"No." "There's always another layer."

"Desaad as we-?"

There's a flare of light as the palm of my left hand evaporates in a blast of radion. Mmmm! My fingers and my ring drop to the deck and then the muzzle appears in front of my face.

"Humans know how to resurrect your wife."

The tube aperture moves backwards revealing the lithe form of Kanto, his gun pointed carefully at my head. "I doubt that."

"Lazarus Pits, cloning combined with a séance, there are plenty of ways to manage it. I'll help you if you help me. She was killed by your predecessor, wasn't she? By an essentially conventional weapon? What has my alter ego even offered you?"

"A return to normalcy on Apokolips."

"I'm pretty sure I can match that."

"Impress me." "An alliance of convenience until it is no longer convenient."

He vanishes again, taking his gun with him. Fine. I'll need to cut off my stump later so it will regenerate, but I can function like this. I call the ring to my right hand instead, then look at Grayven.

"And now?"

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:23 GMT -5

Doctor Impossible vaults through one even as streams of heavily armed gordanian marines storm through the rest!

"Scott!" "There's such a thing as too much freedom!"

"This ship is my bastion, the cornerstone of my empire." Gordanians with large shields lead the van while others with heavy guns follow behind them and open fire! "You will not take it from me." Empower the Loyal Vassals.

Construct armour forms around my body as I lunge at the closest group, weathering the fire in order to get into melee range. If my armour was anything like in one piece I could probably take it but as things stand-.

Owowarrrrgh. None of the shots penetrated me before the construct went up but I've got a painful burning sensation everywhere their shots landed. High-end plasma beam projectors. Gordanians back in Universe 16 couldn't maintain those at their level of technology. As things stand I'm going to need to hug their lines, use them to queer one another's aim in order to avoid getting shot dead by minions.

The shield-bearers brace themselves and activate the force field emitters contained within their shields as I generate a construct power fist around my right hand and slam it into them! The shield-aura buckles for a second and then fails, the feedback from whatever system they used sending the two closest flying backwards at a considerable speed! The rest shuffle closer to re-establish the shield but I'm pulling my daiklave over from where it fell even as my fist strikes home-.

Boom!

I don't even look around as three more gordanians get pulverised and my construct armour breaks -ahrgh- and the shots from the gun-armed ones start hitting me again. Right, grab gordanian before they can put the shield back together, chuck him at the rest, reclaim the daiklave and swing wildly!

"Augh!" / "Nhh!" / "Aaiy!"

"Metallica, cover his eyes!"

"You got it, Uncle Scott!"

And there're the shooters! A short-lived orange shield absorbs most of their point-blank volley and then the daiklave slices easily through their armour. Their armour does nothing to impede the blade, and as chunks of lizard-soldier fly through the air I feel the rest of them begin to quail. Sinestro, you there?

Self-repairs are mostly complete. Simple constructs-

The gordanian unit around me starts to try falling back. I focus on the largest group and begin klaving them into pieces.

-are available, but I won't be able to actively assist you.

Another shield unit begins closing in around me-

"Rrrrrrrraaaaah!"

-but a heavily built man charges into their side, circumventing their force fields and knocking several down. That appears to have been his objective as he stops to stomp on each of the fallen. Their armour… Kind of holds, but it's damaged and it doesn't look like the wearers are getting back up again.

That's the youth from the SHADE facility. Brute. Seems that he likes his-.

Ow! Shot me in the.. head-! I grab a shield from one of the fallen before charging the rest of the second shield squad. Something else I need to be mindful of: I'm decidedly not immune to the effects of blood loss. Which is why I can't afford to cut off my left forearm at the moment. I need to consider-. If we've gotten boom tube access again, I could pull back.

There's a flash of light as Grayven 50 fires a large gun at Barda, who takes the hit and is sent flying with what's left of her armour a smouldering ruin. A moment later a cloud of iron filings wraps itself around his head as a woman apparently made of metal directs it to prevent further omega beam shots. Char is using some sort of staff to focus his energy projection ability, sniping gordanians from behind a shield that Rayner has erected to protect Barda. No sign of Stretch, but with the amount of fire being thrown around that's probably for the best.

"Hey, my man!" Brute smiles at me as I slash a gunner's chest open vertically. "Good to see yah again!"

I crouch and shield-block as another volley of shots comes my way. "Really?"

"Sure." He stands and takes it, his costume rapidly being abraded but his skin being unmarred. "I mean, you look like shit, but a'm always up for fightin' aliens!"

Fire slackens and we charge.

"See how pretty you look after being hit by the omega effect."

"Nah, I'm-" He punches a gunner through his gorget, pulverising the lower part of his head and sending him crashing to the deck. "-good."

Flickers of light emerge from Grayven 50's helmet as he burns through the metal coating with the omega effect.

Okay, I can klave through his armour, then stab him. There can't be many more things he can pull out of his arse.

"Brute." I point to Grayven 50. "That way. Metallica, try ripping open his helmet!"

"You got it!"

The doors out of the room open as more soldiers storm in, their weapons trained on myself and Brute. They're smaller than those used by the hit squad, but I shift position so that I'm behind Brute because I'm not all that confident I could survive the extra attention. Nearly-.

There's a flash as Grayven 50 gets his eyes clear and takes a shot, hitting Brute in the chest and sending him crashing to the floor! I leap over the youth and swing, daiklave shearing through Grayven 50's helmet and cutting into his face! He strikes the blade with his still-active gauntlet and wrecks it, but I use the opening to grab his shoulder and stab the Sword of the Fallen directly into his head!

"Argk!"

And stab again and again, until I'm sure that he's not moving. Then I take a firmer grip and slice around what's left of the gorget until the helmet falls off.

Damn. He looks nearly as bad as me.

The eye which I shot with the dart is mostly there, though whether that's because the shot was only partially successful or because he regenerated I'm not sure. The side of his face which I cold beamed is frozen in places, solidified and unmoving even as his muscles go slack across the rest of his face.

Right, stare at his ugly mug later. I hack at his neck, lift his head free and then hold it out at the gordanians. They stop firing.

"He's dead. You can retreat to the rest of the fleet and go back to Thanagar. Or you can die, along with all of your comrades once I take control of this ship's weapon systems."

Squad leaders look at one another for a moment, then one of those who came in by boom tube beats his chest with his right fist. I don't hear anything, but from the way they form up and march out I assume that whoever that was gave them orders by a radio built into their armour.

I drop the head, then turn and-. The rest of the youth squad are checking over Brute. The skin has been burned off his chest, exposing muscles and.. even bone in a few places. He spots me looking at him.

"Guess you were right."

I trudge closer, Char looking at me as if he thinks I can fix this. Lucky for him that he's right. Brute doesn't appear to have accelerated regeneration, which means that these injuries would be crippling without exotic healing. I take a healing ray out of subspace and fire it at him. The others don't recognise it, shrinking back for a moment before they spot his flesh knitting back together. Once he's mostly intact again I toss it to Scott. Barda's conscious but not exactly full of the joys of spring. He nods in gratitude as he catches it.

Mother Box, open a boom tube to Thanagar. Bring Stormwatch and the Lords back. I need to give John, Shayera and Richard the bad news.

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th December 2004
22:31 GMT -5

I can feel it through Grayven 50's command ship as the gordanian command carriers begin to disengage. The New God technology he built into their ships makes it.. easy. And a part of that might be due to me being spiritually similar to him… I don't know. I presume that they're heading back to Thanagar, but frankly I don't care all that much. It's possible that with their paramount chief dead that the gordanian clans who unified under him will fracture once again, or maybe like the clans who followed Genghis Khan they will remain organised in the manner he arranged them.

I imagine that it left rather an impression.

They could have stayed. The more intelligent amongst them must have realised that I couldn't get full control of Grayven 50's command ship as quickly as I implied. But perhaps the issue there was that Grayven 50 wanted to conquer Earth in order to recruit a new generation of officers. With his death that same incentive doesn't exist. However useful they were finding New God technology, they don't have anyone else who can use it. They might not even be able to build it any longer.

"And done."

Zatanna 50 steps back as I tentatively raise my right hand to my face. Well, for better or worse, it's back again. I then raise and flex my left hand.

"Thank you. Have you gotten practice since my last visit?"

"I've had practice." Zatanna glances at Barda. "You aren't the only New God who takes a lot of punishment."

I nod, standing as I do so. Sinestro, armour repair.

A glow covers my body as he gets to work. Mother Box will need to finish it off, but for 'simple' transmutation work it's easier to just leave him to it.

In progress, Lantern Grayven.

Richard turns away from where Scott is interfacing his Mother Box with the ship's systems. "Feeling better?"

"Physically. I'm sorry about your father."

He shakes his head. "I'll believe he's dead when I see the body."

"Hyperblasters don't leave bodies."

There's no view screen to look at, but he glances away for a moment. "John's not coming back in until he finds something. Shayera's not either. I… Look, if you think you'll have an easier time of using the ship's sensors than Mister Miracle-."

"I'll try. But-" I shake my head. "-I'm not expecting to find anything. I'd like little better than for Sunset, Rex, Batman and the genomorphs to still be alive. I just don't think a version of me would be that sloppy."

He nods. "No, but look anyway."

I nod back and head over to where Scott is regarding his Mother Box with a degree of puzzlement. "Having trouble?"

"How much contact with Apokoliptian warships do you think I've had?"

"Scott Sixteen had some. They were training him as an aero-trooper before he left Apokolips." I attach my Mother Box to what's left of the console next to Scott's. "Mother Box, interface."

"Ping."

Like when I felt the gordanians leave, I don't technically need Mother Box for this. In much the same way that companies managed perfectly well with filing cabinets before electronic databases were invented. I can feel just fine but it I want precision in a timely manner a Mother Box assistant is very useful.

Right. I Am Your Master.

Ping.

Scott looks at me appraisingly and Barda stares as the texture of the space inside the ship changes. I hadn't noticed it before… Perhaps the sarcophagus and the Anti-Life were disrupting it? The ship doesn't have a Mother Box equivalent or a more conventional AI; Grayven 50 probably didn't need one. Alright, records and sensors.

Ping.

"It's showing me organic chemicals. The Watchtower's waste disposal was located towards the base of the structure, wasn't it?"

Scott shrugs and looks at Richard.

"Yeah."

I use the ship's records to map the effect of the shot on the Watchtower. Grayven 50 was more concerned with demonstrating his power and undermining me than he was with making certain that everyone on the station was killed. Which makes sense; if I was going to do anything the first shot would have spurred me to act, and he could have finished off any survivors afterwards. Which he didn't do, because he was busy getting his head back in order after the Anti-Life exposure.

Faint hope. What was it Moist von Lipwig said about hope? I actually don't remember. Something along the lines of it making you buy any con just so you could convince yourself that you weren't being fooled. I'm not going to find anything just looking like this.

"Mother Box, boom tube to the Mountain."

Ping.

Boom!

The portal opens in front of me.

Anyone make it back there?

Ping.

No, I didn't think so. Close it down.

I go back through the logs for the ship's esoteric sensors. There weren't any New Gods in the target area, and I assume that Rex won't-. Wouldn't have been displaying his father's innate green light manipulation abilities. Or perhaps that would have been something he picked up later. I don't remember whether Jade was green from birth or not.

The New God technology I built in registered, but the targeting system was only set to compensate for shields and weapons. Shields… They were a little further down. They didn't have enough New Gods to get full use out of them or maintain them, and it would have interfered with their stealth systems. If… They got out, it would have been by the one boom tube I built or Sunset's magic. The ship can detect shifts in magic fields, but it didn't really have a background standard for Earth.

"Zatanna! Could you check to see whether someone used magic in the area of space where the Watchtower used to be?"

"Not easily. New God weapons and technology mess around with magic too much."

"Alright. Sinestro, connect me to John's radio."

"Stewart here."

"John, we're looking for bodies that aren't there. Either they were totally destroyed, or they got away."

"You got a better idea?"

"Create a construct-replica of the Watchtower. There are hiding-spells that are triggered by the existence of a safe space at the exit point. In theory, Sunset could have cast one." I look around. "Zatanna, Richard, could you pop down to Earth to make sure that they haven't appeared there?"

Boom!

I frown. That wasn't-.

Kanto strolls through, no longer holding his anti-New God gun. "I believe that you may have misplaced something."

Sunset walks through, looking around in obvious alarm, Rex on a sling across her chest. "What the buck happened?"

I dash across the intervening space, hauling her and my godson up and embracing them as tightly as I dare. "Where have you been?"

"There.. weren't any New Gods on the Watchtower so.. I went to Themyscira. I took Rex because Batman said he needed to get out more. Why?"

"My alter ego destroyed the Watchtower. I thought you were dead."

"Ah yes." Kanto smiles smugly. "About 'being dead'."

"Next thing I do after returning Rex to his parents."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th February 2012
22:43 GMT -6

"…in front of him, then showed him my diplomatic passport."

I take a sip of my drink, which in defiance of my usual custom is actually alcoholic. I'm even letting it intoxicate me a little. Just a little, but… I'm still feeling unhappy about Vega. Perhaps a mild amount of mind-altering will give me a new perspective?

"Are you rilly supposed t' use it like that?"

I sit back in my seat. I think Harleen just shifted from 'casual' to 'slightly professional', which… That's not a terrible idea. With someone like me -including me- the people around me have good reason to want to make sure that I'm thinking straight.

"Generally, Queen Hippolyta is happy for me to use it to duck certain vexatious consequences of my work as a superhero. Specifically…" I shrug. "I'm honestly not sure if she's ever touched a computer in her life, so I've got no idea how I'd even start explaining 'microtransactions' to her." I smile. "Though if they try talking her into rescinding my immunity, I'd love to watch them."

"Yeah, but it's kinda out of charactah, ain't it?"

"Y-ess… Sort of." I slightly raise my left hand and rotate the rings so that they're 'sigil up'. "Just because I can focus on long term things, that doesn't mean that I don't still feel the same impulses to implement quick fixes to the things in my immediate environment. I just think twice before I do it. And after the week I've had, I felt the need to do something a little impulsive."

"What happened?"

"Some.. people I was giving a great deal of leeway to used it in a way that I'd rather that they hadn't. And now I'm giving serious thought to whether I need to keep closer watch on the people I give rings to."

"How bad are we tawkin' here?"

"Hard to say. I'm not even completely certain that they were in the wrong." I shake my head. "There was a planet inhabited by a really evil species. And I don't.. mean just.. 'they had a bad government' or whatever, they literally biologically and sociologically engineered themselves to be as cruel and vicious as possible and to enjoy it."

"'Was'."

"Yeah. The thing is, they had a lot of 'test subjects' on their planet. And they were planning on fleeing the region. I'm not usually one for palming problems off when I can resolve them, but if they'd offered to trade their hostages for the ability to leave… I'd probably have agreed. As it was, they were all killed and only a handful of their prisoners were rescued. And… A lot of people I trusted… To a degree, anyway, went out of their way to keep me out of the loop. And… I effectively decided not to deal with the problem myself, so I'm annoyed with them for excluding me but also annoyed at myself for being annoyed about them taking the initiative. I mean, orange light; their desires aren't going to line up perfectly with my own."

"You should probably-"

"Talk to them about it." / "-tawk t' them abowt it."

We both chuckle quietly. It's an oldie, but… Yes. Talking to Komand'r and Koriand'r about what I expect from them and what they expect from me is something I'm going to need to do. In a little while. Let things settle down. I checked before I left and there really isn't anything they have planned that I don't approve of.

"Hey, lady. Halloween was five months ago." I look over towards the door as the doorman intercepts my other guest. "And I'm gunna want to see some I… D...."

A slightly-built figure in an all-enveloping cloak and wearing a decorated porcelain mask stares at him for a moment and his whole body locks up. Then she walks past, a damp patch appearing at the crotch of his trousers and trickling down his right leg.

I hold up my right hand in a wave to get Melinoë's attention as she studies the bar. She spots me, but keeps going until she has the whole place surveyed and the bouncer partially collapses against the wall before heading over to us.

"That ain't somethin' you see every day. Do I run now..?"

Melinoë stops at our table and stands there motionless. Alright, I suppose that it's for me to make the introductions.

"Thank you for joining us."

"Father insisted."

Her tone is frostier than usual.

"Have I done something wrong?"

She folds her arms across her chest and looks away.

"I am unhappy to be called upon in this manner. My brother has been making.. lewd insinuations, about our interactions."

"I'll put him straight when I see him." I turn to Harleen. "Doctor Harleen Quinzel, this is Melinoë, chthonic nymph of-."

"Madness. Yeah."

"Madness and nightmares. Don't assume that I can't touch you just because you're sane."

Shadows coil under her, forming themselves into a stool. She sits, then removes her mask and places it upon the table. Harleen blinks in surprise as she gets an unimpeded view of Melinoë's face. The lighting in here is too low for her to see the skin tone clearly but the horns are very obvious.

"Why am I here?"

"Since I've been helping your father find new relevance, it hit me that I could do the same for you."

"Ahum..?"

"You want me to spread madness and nightmares?"

"There was a short story written by my favourite author, in which a travel agent tried to convince the devil that while no one wanted to be stuck in Hell permanently, plenty of people would pay to go there temporarily. People like dabbling with fear or horror in controlled environments. That's.. basically what horror films are."

She regards me carefully. "Go on."

"It wouldn't take much effort to make marker tokens, which could be taken by people who actively want nightmares. Then you could practise your trade upon them."

"What sort of idiot would volunteer for something like that?"

"Hey, that's your future cultists you're talking about."

"And you think people will volunteer to be struck mad too?"

"For just a little while?"

Melinoë deigns to look at Harleen. "That is within my power."

"Are you-? Yeah, just abowt ev'ry shrink on the planet. You could get all kinds of insight if you could get a disordah for a whyle then go back to bein' neurotypical."

She seems genuinely excited at the idea. Melinoë just looks puzzled.

"Perhaps I was premature in my assessment of your mental state after all."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th December 2004
14:13 GMT -4

"I'm… Curious." Kanto watches me cautiously as I study the five hundred year old mortal remains of Claudia Romanus. "You were not in attendance at Darkseid's court when I gained my god-name. Kanto Thirteen hadn't the wit to speak of my time on Earth. I chose not to, and I never heard Lord Darkseid do so. So how did you know of it?"

Sinestro?

I'm sure that you can come up with a convincing lie on your own, Lantern Grayven.

I meant, with the reconstruction.

The basic structure is simple enough. However, without a portrait, it simply isn't possible to recapture the specifics.

"Are you sure that you don't have a portrait?"

"It would have been hard to explain to her brother why I, a lowly page of insignificant birth, wanted a picture of his sister. I intended to have one commissioned after the wedding, but alas that proved impossible."

I can still see where Kanto 13's bomb tore open her abdomen; the damage to the bones of her ribs and pelvis is quite significant. The metallic residue suggests that her mortician more or less had to use some sort of metal corset to make the corpse stay in one piece. I hope that she lost consciousness quickly.

"If you don't mind me saying, you're being surprisingly easygoing about this."

"I don't mind you saying that at all." "You heard what Lashina said when Granny died?"

I smile. "Alright then. Have you considered the possibility that Cesare Borgia wrote something about his most unusual page, the man who married his sister?" "Yes, of course."

"Considered. And dismissed. He wouldn't write anything so frivolous. One of his courtiers might have done, but the chance of it surviving for so long is… Slender." "She was bound to Granny Goodness, as I was bound to Lord Darkseid. With his death, some of the truths he impressed upon me seemed somewhat less true."

"I spent some time in a parallel universe, far more removed from this one than the one where I now make my home. There, I read it in a comic book."

"Hm. And how did the author know, I wonder?"

"Pass. Look…" I gesture to Claudia's corpse. "I've got a full genetic work-up, and the analysis of her bones gives me enough information on her general state of health and diet that I can mostly repair her body. But without a visual guide to work from it won't be exactly the same, and even as an aristocrat her health would have been less good than that of a modern human."

"Your alter ego's entire reason for taking Earth was to turn humans into New God lieutenants. And if learning such a technique was within his grasp, then it puts a new spin on the abilities of this Sector's former Green Lantern."

"Yes, thanks to the Father Box of Desaad Sixteen, I know how to do it. But perhaps we should give her a little time to adapt to being alive once more before revealing that her beloved is an alien god-assassin."

"And of course you'll need to decide what you want in return."

"No. That isn't how I conduct my affairs." I theatrically hold my hands over the bones and begin. Restoring the bones to pristine condition is simple enough, though if there were any older breaks in the time-eaten parts those will be vanishing. Then comes cartilage and connective tissue. "Spend time with your wife, live the life that Kanto Thirteen and Darkseid denied you. And then, at some point in the future, if you actually want to work with me, then get in touch."

"What happened to you, to make you this different? Or am I similarly liberated in the universe where you make your home?"

"I've never met Kanto Sixteen-." I frown as I reassemble Claudia's muscles and organs. "You know, given how Kantos used to be numbered, using 'universe numbers' to refer to the different versions of you is a little confusing."

"I know who you mean."

"Well, him. So I've only got Desaad's old notes to tell me about his behaviour. But nothing there suggests that he's all that different to you. But consider the issue: the bonds binding you to Apokolips exist in your soul, tied to your god-name. The core of your identity is indelibly imprinted with that way of life. So if you want to leave…"

Kanto frowns at me, then his eyes widen and he actually steps back. "You would have to destroy-! You did that?"

"From what I remember, yes." Nerves, veins and arteries, brain… No way to actually make the neural connections that she would have had in life, but I can create an unspecialised network. Skin and hair… And a dress where it won't matter if it gets coated in Lazarus goop.

"I'm impressed."

"Putting a person back together isn't that hard with a power ring. Even the Green Lanterns can sometimes manage it."

"No. Your determination. Your single-mindedness. You destroyed everything you were in order to become yourself."

"If I could have killed Father instead, I would have." I cut off the flow of yellow light to the now-repaired corpse. "Does she look like you remember her?"

"As close as I could expect a lifeless corpse to." He reaches forward and picks her up. "Still confident that you can deliver on your bargain?"

"More confident than I would be about having you coming after me and mine."

I lead the way over to where Sunset and Richard are checking over the Apokoliptian device I created for this process. The local version of Ra's al Ghul apparently didn't have quite the degree of knowledge that my version had, and even though it meant taking the construct-Lantern out of the basement where I'd had him writing his memoirs I felt that the increased reliability was worth the mental discomfort. But neither my Ra's nor the records Richard had access to via Batman could explain what this thing did to recapture the soul of the one it resurrected.

Which is why in place of the pool or a sarcophagus, the gently-bubbling goop fills one of Grayven 50's modified Sarcophageuses. Those things are designed to play about with souls, and with my Mother Box plugged into it to provide a link to the Source… That should be enough to return her soul. I still don't know enough about mind-soul interfaces to know how much she'll remember… Well. If this fails then I'm sure that Sunset will embrace the challenge of improving the system.

Speaking of-.

Ping.

Good show. "Now, Kanto, I must warn you that people resurrected by the Lazarus Pit are usually somewhat insensible for a time. And that there is no guarantee that we will succeed on our first try."

"I understand." He reverentially lays her in the goop bath, then steps back as Sunset presses the button to submerge her.

Hm. I should probably stick around, but this whole process could well end up taking hours. I sidle up to Richard.

"How are you and Timothy holding up?"

"I still can't really believe that he's dead."

"I realise that you're not certain of your own feelings towards him, but he had a major impact on your life. It's only natural-."

"No, I literally can't believe that he's dead. He had a minute between the boom tube opening and the Watchtower being destroyed. There are dozens of contingencies he could have activated in that time."

I nod. "I see. I hope that you're right."

"How are the Lords settling in in your mountain?"

"Well enough. Diana appears to be enjoying training with Knockout. I don't suppose-?"

"I've thought about it. I think maybe we could have them join the team. Eventually. But not yet. And I'm sure they're due some parental leave."

I nod. "I'll pass that on." We watch the goop for a moment. "Hey, is there any chance I could take the ship off your-?"

"No."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Guys from Gotham

16th February
20:12 GMT -5

Huh.

That's… The bat-signal. I'm honestly… A little surprised that a twenty-first century Gotham uses it. I mean, it sort of made sense when Batman was first published. Telephones were strictly fixed point and connected to traceable wires, and Batman would have to have been waiting around by it to get a message. Or Mr Pennyworth could have taken a message, but the man himself might not have picked it up for hours. And a radio wouldn't have been much better. But… Even in the eighties a bat-pager would have made more sense. It's not as if a giant light shining up into the sky is a subtle signal. Criminals would know that the police were calling in Batman anyway.

Maybe… To get around jamming? But it doesn't work in the day…

Pass.

Actually, where is Batman?

Hm. Well. I suppose they can't expect him to turn up all the time.

Still, I am… Living here now. And Richard has school tomorrow. And I'm not.. doing anything this evening that I can't put off.

I smile and raise my right index and middle fingers to my forehead.

Commissioner James Gordon, Detective Harvey Bullock and a couple of uniformed officers I haven't met before are standing next to the signal on the roof of police headquarters. Gordon's holding a paper folder-

How quaint. Ring, copy it.

Compliance.

-in his right hand. None of them seem particularly excited, but then I suppose that they're used to Batman taking a while to arrive. And a person's capacity for being horrified… Takes a bit of a beating in Gotham.

Well, let's see what's going on. I let my environmental shield glow as I head towards the rooftop. Harvey spots me first, and subtly makes eye contact with Commissioner Gordon before gesturing to me with the end of his cigarette. Then Gordon spots me and… Doesn't exactly look thrilled.

"Something I can do for you gentlemen?"

"Orange Lantern." The Commissioner walks to the edge of the building closest to me as I stand in empty space adjacent to it. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"No?"

Harvey frowns at me. "What you doin' here, anyway?"

I smile. "You'll laugh."

"Yeah?"

"I live here now!"

He drops his cigarette, but his facial expression doesn't change all that much. "Since when?"

"Christmas. My girlfriend moved away for work but she wanted to keep the place, so I'm house-sitting for her."

Harvey snorts. "Yeah, word of advice, buddy? If she moves to a different city-."

"Planet."

"That too. Then she's gone."

"I can instantly teleport interstellar distances, so it's not really that far… It's like she's got an overseas posting with the army or something."

He looks sceptical. "If you say so, buddy."

"So… What's the signal for?"

Gordon turns to me after wandering back towards the signal. "It's for Batman."

"I'd… be happy to help?"

"Orange Lantern. I'm… Grateful for the offer, but last time you were working in this city we got invaded by plants, zombies and plant zombies."

"That wasn't last time. Last time was when I apprehended Otis Flannegan."

"It stuck in my mind."

"I didn't bring any of them here."

"And then there were the angels. Do you know how many religious crazies we had to deal with because of that?"

"Hey, I was the victim there."

"We'll wait for Batman. If he wants your help, fine."

"Could be a long wait."

"Batman is a highly skilled criminal investigator with an excellent understanding of the minds of deranged criminals. We need his intellect. We don't need your… Firepower."

Harvey snorts, while Commissioner Gordon looks hopefully at the bat signal.

"I just.. happen to know that he's in the Ukraine right now and probably won't make it back."

Commissioner Gordon sags slightly.

"Come on: don't look a gift-Lantern in the-" Hm? "-mouth."

I look up as Batwoman cape-glides down from a nearby building and lands just in front of Gordon.

"Batman is unavailable."

Gordon glances my way. "We heard." He lifts up his folder-.

Ring, summary?

Thefts of chemicals and medical equipment have led Gotham police to believe that someone is creating Smilex. Joker is still confined to Arkham Asylum. Thieves unidentified, but not wearing Joker motifs.

Can we scan for Smilex and its derivatives?

Smilex found.

I'm sorry, say that again?

Smilex found.

Huh. Someone's not connected to the criminal grapevine very well. I'd gotten a bit used to not being able to skip to the end like this. I mean. okay, those concentrations are probably left over from one of Napier's old crime sprees, but… Yep, that's the stolen equipment.

I transition across the city, to a professional-looking low rise business complex. Just the sort of place for start-ups, and my target isn't the only one with gas tanks. Hah, reminds me of that time back on Earth Prime when the Cells4Life lab team left a nitrogen tank in the hallway and people started panicking about it. But that's definitely Smilex and a.. few novel variants. One man inside. Smilex is very illegal, theft is somewhat illegal and I'm pretty sure that he's breaking zoning laws too.

I drift towards… Whoever that is, the walls and racking in my way breaking into bits and floating aside. He draws a gun -just a chemical kinetic pistol- and I bind him in construct chains before shutting down and grabbing all of his equipment.

Right, that's… About everything. And transition.

"Commissioner?"

They look up in astonishment.

"Looking for this?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
21:27 GMT -5

I watch as Talia feeds another swab into a DNA analyser.

"You know, I could probably do that faster, too."

"If you cannot remain quiet while I work then you are free to leave."

The Morpheus-lookalike I picked up from the laboratory is apparently called 'Doctor Kaligari'. Can't say I've ever heard of him, but then Gotham generates more lunatics than any rational person could possibly remember. Or… Do they go mad and then come here? No idea what his real name is. Shouldn't be too hard to track a man with his physical oddities, but with government computers now virtually all warded I can't just casually mass-hack the whole system any longer. Which I intellectually appreciate is a good thing…

"Did I do something to annoy you lately?"

I casually scan the laboratory equipment I recovered, uploading-. Using a construct cable to connect my ring to the cave's computer and uploading everything I discovered. None of the prints are reliable enough to identify anyone with any certainty, DNA samples… Don't prove anything other than that some dead skin or hair blew in through an open window. Blood would be a bit more telling but it wasn't likely that any would remain on laboratory equipment.

Talia looks up as the computer reports the upload. "Your time would be better spent analysing the Smilex-derivative."

"Alright, but you haven't answered my question." Hm. "Looks… Weirdly short-lived. The result would be a lot more subtle than the usual 'laughed themselves to death' effect of the stuff Napier uses. And… Given the psychoactive component-."

"Recreational."

"Perhaps. It was originally intended to be an anti-depressant." In much the same way that Viagra was originally intended to be used to treat high blood pressure and angina. It does work for that purpose, but that's not what anyone thinks of when they hear it. "Ah… I think the results would be… Heightened aggression, intense bursts of emotion and an altered perception of reality. But what that would actually mean for people's behaviour… Not sure."

"They would become like the Joker."

"Or they'd become a slightly more vicious breed of drug-addled lout. The Joker… I've never really understood what's so special about him."

"Neither have I."

I could make a crack about Ra's al Ghul playing second fiddle to a clown, but… As a villain, Ra's makes a lot more sense to me. His goal made a sort of sense to me. Even his mistakes make sense to me in terms of who he is. Napier… I don't.. think that plot armour really exists, but I'm struggling to come up with reasons for Napier not to be dead.

I'm not sure what I'd do if he got out of Arkham again.

"Yes, but… I mean I don't understand the chemical processes which turned a failing comedian into a serial killer. He's clearly a lot more intelligent than he was before…"

"My father once tried to identify the precise mechanism by which Jack Napier became the Joker. He thought that it was more likely to be alchemical than chemical."

"Did he learn anything?"

"Only one test subject survived. He and the four Shadows he turned were killed attempting to murder my father a few days later. The behavioral changes he showed were in some ways similar to those experienced by the Joker, but clearly dissimilar in others. He described it more in mystical terms. Dissecting his brain revealed a few changes, but as you say, it is difficult to draw hard conclusions."

"Just as long as you're not going to suggest that we try the stuff."

"No, that would be foolish. And I am annoyed with you for undermining me before Commissioner Gordon."

"Then you should learn to make better use of your assets. I may not work for you, but I'd be happy to cooperate."

"If you disliked my command style then you should bring the matter to me in private."

"Okay, stop you right there. I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. Remember all of those people who turned up when the angels murdered me? Yes, I'm the second in command of that organisation. I'm not one of Batman's projects. I'm a capable superhero in my own right and the only reason I take orders from Batman on team missions is because it's more efficient than bringing in enough assets to create my own organisation from scratch."

"You -on the other hand- would be in prison serving multiple life sentences right now if Mister Wayne didn't love you. I neither need nor want your permission to operate in Gotham, or talk to Gotham police, or stop crimes in Gotham. You do not outrank me. I do not take orders from you. When I offer to cooperate, that is what I am offering to do. And while you are free to respond in a truculent manner, the result will not be me throwing a teenage tantrum and storming off to my room to sulk; the result will be me investigating without you. Up to you."

She regards me-.

"Hey Oh El." I look around as Richard enters the cave. "Making friends?"

"Seems unlikely. D-?"

"Robin." Talia turns to her adopted son. "Do you have any new information about a Smilex-based narcotic?"

"Ah…" His eyes narrow slightly. "No. There's been a little more cocaine on the streets and a little less heroin, but nothing exotic." He walks slowly down the steps into the cave-proper. "Is that what the Bat-signal was for?"

"Orange Lantern decided to retrieve the chemist and his laboratory in a flamboyant fashion. We will investigate, but I suspect that the mastermind will go to ground."

"Ah." He nods, then looks at me. "Oh El? We usually avoid doing things like that because it makes it a lot harder to find anything out."

"That may well be, but it did get several gallons of Smilex-derived narcotic off the streets, along with the man making it. And, frankly, I think that's worth delaying the investigation for." I turn to Talia. "Why don't you leave this part of the investigation to me and.. go out and interrogate some drug dealers?"

"I don't trust that you won't miss some useful detail. You depend on your ring for such things. You do not have the training that my beloved has, that I have, or even that Robin has."

"Ah, thanks."

"So? Richard's here. He and I have worked together plenty of times. And it'll be far easier for us to look at the stuff the police are holding than it would be for you to examine it in detail."

Talia considers that for a moment.

"Robin, is your school work complete?"

"I'm good for the next few days."

"Then you will guide the Illustres as he examines the materials taken from the laboratory while I pursue leads in the field. Contact me with updates every ten minutes."

"O-kay?"

Apparently dismissing us, Talia stalks back towards the car.

Richard and I look at each other for a moment.

"Alright then. Ring, list local companies who could have provided the non-stolen components."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
21:32 GMT -5

"Huh."

It's kind of impressive, really. The days when only a few companies could produce this sort of equipment are in the dim and distant past. Still, I'm a little surprised that so many of these fairly specialist medical device manufacturers exist in Gotham.

"Yeah, it's not just WayneTech anymore." Richard sets the computer to look for patterns of ordering, and I smile at the idea that Batman clearly has access to data sources that I don't, casually breaking laws I'm semi-obliged to pay attention to these days. "With Gotham's crime rate being a bit less crazy these days, plenty of other companies are setting up here."

"I imagine that rent and labour costs are still below-average."

"Gotham's got a bit of a niche workforce."

"Ex-gang members?"

"Sometimes. But there's a surprising number of specialists around. Chemists, logistics experts, middle managers…"

"Chemists? Drug manufacturers?"

"Sometimes. But Joker and Scarecrow don't make all of their own product."

"Crane didn't? I thought it was a point of pride with him?"

"He made the doses he uses when he fights, but he couldn't make enough for his big attacks all by himself. And anyone who's ever worked with him takes lab safety really seriously."

"He's still-" I turn, looking in the general direction of the twisted strands of light which mark out Arkham Asylum and looking for the pattern of beating, interwoven threads which define Doctor Crane. "-in Arkham, right?"

"Last time I checked. Which was about six hours ago. After the last big breakout Batman had an independent surveillance system added in."

"Yeah, he's still there."

He glances back and sees where I'm looking. "I didn't realise you could see that far. I thought it only worked with your normal vision."

"Arkham's only… Seven miles from here? If it wasn't for all of the stuff in the way, you could see it from here."

"All the people in the way aren't a problem?"

"It blurs the detail, but Doctor Crane has a distinct shape." I turn back to him. "Did Batman tell you to pump me for information, or are you taking the initiative?"

He smiles. "What, I can't be a little curious?"

"I don't know. Is what I just said going on the bat computer?"

"Not until I can test it objectively."

I snort. "If you want to test me objectively, you can just ask."

"Yeah, but it's more of an accomplishment if I set things up without you noticing."

I snort again, but it's more of an amused snort this time. "We're not going to have to talk to Napier about this, are we?"

"Why would the Joker worry you?"

"I've been struggling to come up with reasons for not killing him. So long as I'm not in close physical proximity, it's easy to just push him from my mind."

"He's insane and in a secure hospital?"

"But he's never going to get better, is he?"

"He might. Weren't you going to talk to Melinoë about that?"

"Melinoë doesn't so much heal the insane as.. stop doing it. And she didn't have anything to do with him."

"So who's the Greek god who cures madness?"

"Apollo, probably."

"Isn't he the one you..?"

"Yes." I look up at the screen. "Any leads?"

"Too many. None of the equipment they had is all that special. And whoever is backing Kaligari was smart enough not to buy everything from the same place."

"I don't suppose that there's anyone else who uses Smilex? I mean, how rare is the stuff?"

"Most people think of it as something the Joker uses as a weapon, but-" He pulls up some statistics on narcotic usage. "-low concentration versions have been sold on the streets since… Well, before the Joker got a hold of it."

"So whoever commissioned this batch doesn't need to have had anything to do with the Joker?"

"Joker kind of eliminated the other suppliers. There might be some of them still around, but they'll be hiding pretty well."

I look at the search summary. Hm. Hundreds of buyers who could have assembled all of the equipment. Ring, start checking those addresses.

Compliance.

"So how would you follow up on this?"

The ring creates a grey ring in my head, the colour gradually turns to orange as it checks that real companies exist at the stated locations. It's not taking all that long.

"If you'd been a bit quieter, we could pick up the guys that Kaligari was using to carry out the robberies. Honestly, that's still probably the best option. It's that or interview someone at every one of these companies."

"Done."

"I know you can teleport, Oh El, but I don't think you talked to them all that quickly."

"No, I was just checking if every company listed as a buyer genuinely existed. Three are no longer at their delivery addresses and have been listed as 'closed', two with suspiciously short lifespans."

I connect an orange wire to the batputer and pipe over the analysis.

"And the identities of the owners…"

"Lawyer. I know the firm; they've set up front companies for the Penguin a few times."

"Are the companies dodgy like 'tax planning' or are they actually illegal front companies?"

He smiles at my use of the word. "Dodgy."

"How is Mister Cobblepot these days?"

"We haven't caught him doing anything major. Hm." He thinks for a moment. "It might be worth paying him a visit. He won't want Smilex on the streets any more than we do."

"Because he isn't in that market?"

"Him and the Joker never really got along. Think you can visit him without killing him?"

"Think you can get into a place that sells alcohol without getting carded?"

"Pretty sure I can pull it off."

"Are you going to get into trouble with Talia about this?"

"Only if you don't finish all of the analysis work she was running first."

"Okay. Give me… About a minute?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
21:38 GMT -5

I stroll through the Iceberg Lounge's entrance without being stopped by the bouncers, though the thinner one started muttering into his microphone rather urgently once he thought that I was out of listening range. Still too early in the evening for this place to be at anything like capacity, and this is a school night. A cross section of Gotham's rich young things are scattered around the bar area and dance floor, presumably the minor thrill of osmotic criminality making up for the classical tone of the music. I recognise a few of the faces-. And there's Jacopo Inzerillo. He looks up at me like he's completely confused by my presence; not offended, just like it's a thing that doesn't make any sense to him. I politely raise my right hand in a small wave and he nods back before returning his attention to his conversation.

Nice that no one's fleeing, though I suppose it's only been a few moments.

O.. kay. Mr Cobblepot himself makes regular tours of the main hall, making sure that his guests feel valued. However, his position as owner and proprietor means that he spends most of his time in one of the offices. Richard will be working on sneaking in… I need to draw a degree of attention without wrecking the place.

Hm.

I increase power to my environmental shield, float over the railings and drift slowly towards the bar. Getting a few stares and a little pointing, but no one's doing-. Well, after Commissioner Gordon brought up the religious crazies, I've been keeping half an eye out everywhere I go and it doesn't look like any of this crowd are going for their crozius arcanum just yet.

I land just in front of the bar, and smile politely at the young lady working there.

"Sarsaparilla, please."

"Certainly, sir." She turns away, heading for a mini fridge. "Would you like ice with that?"

"No, thank you."

She removes a bottle, removing the cap using the bar's built-in bottle opener with her right hand while picking up a glass from a rack with her left.

"We also do a range of non-alcoholic cocktails, if you're interested?"

"I somehow doubt that I'll be here long enough for a second drink, but I'll try and be a little more adventurous next time I'm here."

She puts the glass down on the bar and I pick it up and take a sip. I'd never had sarsaparilla before I came to Earth 16, and its taste… It's growing on me, slight tint of dentist-water not withstanding.

I take another sip and turn around, looking around the room-.

There's a quiet 'bang' and a rapid series of thumps from the direction of the offices, the momentary stab of alarm swiftly quashed and focused as Oswald 'The Penguin' Cobblepot is informed that I've arrived and heads out to deal with me. Either that, or Richard really bungled the infiltration-. No, there he is. Hm. Thinking about it, it won't be all that long before he'll be able to come here as Richard Grayson. I wonder if he's given any thought to the sort of shell persona he wants to develop to throw people off the Robin-scent?

Another 'bang', and Mr Cobblepot slows from quick-march to stately procession as he enters the room. And he's not going to head to me immediately. No, he moves slowly, greeting four guests by name and holding a short conversation with the fourth. The fact that I'm an empath isn't a secret. And I don't just mean that I haven't been shy about telling people; it's actually online.

Which means that this isn't for my benefit. He knows full well that I know that I'm the reason why he got up and came out here. But while he might think that his short term survival depends on keeping me happy, these are the people his long term survival depends upon. Customers, business partners, not-entirely-clean political leaders willing to make deals with a mostly-legitimate businessman.

He moves away, stopping briefly to speak to one of his waiters before apparently by chance ambling towards the bar. His eyes pass over me, but his gaze is disinterested. Mildly curious at best. It's a lie, but if I couldn't look inside him I doubt that I'd spot it. He arrives at the far end of the bar and speaks briefly to the head barmaid, then turns and ambles in my direction, grinning.

"Orange Lantern! So good to see you!"

"Mister Cobblepot. I do hope that I'm not dragging you away from anything important?"

"Oh, I've always got time for my guests. Particularly guests as well known as yourself. Do you think you'll have time to have your picture taken? We're got quite a collection."

"I'd be happy to." I assume that's his excuse to get me off the floor so that we can have a work-related discussion somewhere private. I half-turn. "Do you have a studio-?"

There's a flash as a woman carrying an old-fashioned flashbulb camera takes our picture, and I realise that Mr Cobblepot is close enough and smiley enough that it looks both naturalistic and semi-posed. I broaden my smile a little and raise my glass in a salute, but the picture-taker is already heading away.

"So, what brings you here this evening?"

"A difference in epistemology. I'm direct; the Bats are indirect. If I want something from someone then I'll either ask for it or trade for it... Or just take it, because there's almost no one who can threaten me."

"Only 'almost'?"

"No one's invulnerable. There was this alien warlord last month…" I shake my head. "Batman is indirect because he can't survive being repeatedly shot. I'm direct because I can. I don't criticise him for that; it's a rational use of his abilities. But it's not me."

I put my glass down.

"I'm sure that we're both very glad that Mister Napier is in Arkham Asylum. Unfortunately, someone has decided that in his absence there's a gap in the market for a Smilex supplier. I hit a laboratory earlier this evening, but I only caught one chemist."

"Smilex is a dreadful product."

"Why kill your own customers?"

He coughs quietly. "I sell alcohol, Orange Lantern. I merely remark on the dreadful personal and social consequences of the abuse of illegal drugs."

"Mister Cobblepot…" I shake my head. "If an individual wishes, in private, to consume a narcotic which harms no one but themselves, I struggle to come up with a reason to stop them. I don't indulge myself-" I raise my glass slightly. "-but all the evidence I've seen is that marijuana is less dangerous than beer."

"Even before I reformed, I avoided Smilex. Even ignoring the risk from the Clown, it's cheap, unreliable and prone to all sorts of side effects that draw police attention. My segment of the market wouldn't have anything to do with it."

"Oh, Mister Cobblepot, I don't think for a moment that you're directly involved. But… You have old friends, who I'm sure that you're trying to shoo back onto the strait and narrow. And perhaps one of these friends might have been involved in an.. apparently legitimate transaction involving second hand laboratory equipment, or heard something about a theft and… Perhaps they want to pass information on in confidence, before friends of theirs get themselves into more trouble than they've bargained for."

"You see, I was there when Mister Napier was arrested for that whole 'Injustice League' business. I had to talk Teth Adom out of killing him, and… I'll be honest with you, I'm not sure I made the right decision by doing that. I agree with you, Smilex is one of those things that just.. doesn't need to exist."

I make eye contact with him and smile politely.

"I really don't want it to exist."

"No sane person does."

I pass him my card.

"So if you should hear something about.. anything associated with this, I would very much appreciate it if you could pass it on? I'm sure it would save you quite a bit of bother in the long term."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
22:09 GMT -5

"What?"

Richard… Probably raises his eyebrows at me as I fly up to his rooftop eyrie.

"You didn't try and sneak up on me."

"Come on, Oh El. How am I supposed to manage that?"

"I happen to know that Batman still routinely sneaks-."

"Sneaks away from Commissioner Gordon when he's looking in the other direction, I know." He turns away, accelerates to a loping run and leaps easily from one side of the street to the other. I transition after him. "Barbara asked me if it was Batman's idea of pranking him."

"And since you've given me such an open and honest answer, I'll return the favour. Basic magic concealment will shield you from my empathic vision unless I make a real effort, scry warding will stop regular ring scans-"

"I knew that."

"-and other forms of radiation can be blocked in various ways. It wouldn't be easy to set something up without fully enclosed armour, but you probably could. You might be better off going 'full-magic' if that's the way you want to go."

He accelerates to a sprint. His next jump takes him up five floors and across another road.

"What, you weren't satisfied with getting Kid Flash into magic and now you want me to as well?"

"Yes. Using magic equipment, anyway. You can buy directly from Atlantis so I don't have to know what you're getting-. Though you might be better off going through me to buy from Hephaestus."

"Did you ever think about why Batman doesn't buy magic equipment?"

"I've been assuming that it's because he can't maintain it himself. Which… Isn't much of an argument to a Lantern."

"I think it's more because the people he knew who used it didn't exactly understand how it works. Even a guy like Jason Blood usually only explains what he can do in mystical terms. And Zatara doesn't know why things happen when he talks backwards."

"But Atlantis-."

"Batman didn't meet Aquaman until the Appellaxian attack. And they didn't really talk much about Atlantean magic."

"King Orin probably didn't know all that much himself. Not like he grew up with it. But you can get in contact with the Atlantean embassy in Washington and arrange a consultation with a commercial wizard whenever you want. So, is it a prank?"

"I don't think so?" He slows to a halt atop the tallest building in this part of Gotham. "I think in the beginning he wanted to make the police afraid of him too, seeing as how most of them were working for the mob anyway. Now it's just part of what he does."

"Alan didn't do things like that when he worked with the Gotham police."

"Gotham wasn't a corrupt mess in the thirties."

"Alright, but what makes a bigger impression: disappearing in the middle of a conversation or hanging in the air while glowing brilliant green?"

"Batman didn't know who Green Lantern was."

"What, and he couldn't have found out?"

"Huh." He turns away and looks out across the city. "That's actually a good point. He could have found him."

"I mean, I understand why he didn't track down Crimson Avenger-"

"Because he was dead."

"-even though they operate in similar ways."

While Hugo Danner was America's first superhero, Crimson Avenger was America's first masked hero. He also had a rather large body count. I haven't checked to see whether the local version had the demonically possessed handguns of the version I remember, but he certainly shot people dead. I mean, he didn't do it on principle; he wasn't the DC version of the Punisher or anything. But people in America are allowed to own firearms and use them for self defence or the defence of another. Back then -especially coming off the back of prohibition- the 'custom' of heroes not using lethal force basically didn't exist.

Still. Since I'm here, it might be worth putting a little extra effort into hunting down those guns.

"Not that similar." He turns back to me. "So how'd it go with the Penguin?"

"He's going to keep an ear out. How'd it go with the Penguin's computers?"

"I didn't find anything major. I mean, I didn't think he'd get involved with dealing Smilex, but he might have supplied the muscle or the intel." He shrugs. "Nothing."

"Is that unusual?"

"Gotham's economy might have picked up, but it's not so good that people with long criminal records can get jobs easily. A lot of them go to the Penguin…" He shrugs. "But it's not like he runs a labor exchange. Plenty of people don't go to him."

"Alright. What next?"

"Next?" He brings up his arm computer. "I send a message to Batwoman, so she doesn't do anything crazy. Then I go looking for people who look like they're up to no good and ask them if they know anything."

"Might it be worth talking to Catwoman? She lives in the sort of place where the buyers might live."

"It's not just poor people who buy Smilex, Oh El." He exhales. "Not any more. For a little while the Joker was giving it away. He started at low doses, then escalated. People are a lot more cautious these days."

Hm. The only person I remember selling a Smilex-derivative in the comics was Maximilian Zeus. The local version of him is a mostly-recovered businessman who attends court-mandated therapy sessions and who these days studiously avoids anything that would cause a relapse. Or maybe I'm over thinking it: sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

"I suppose." Hm. "Speaking of exotic equipment upgrades: do you think Batman would want a power ring?"

"Ah… Probably not from you."

"I ask because Sinestro's dispute with the Guardians isn't strictly my problem." Richard looks decidedly dubious. "Part of Batman's method involves invoking fear, which would match the techniques needed to use a yellow ring."

"You.. haven't been.. talking to him, have you?"

"No, but Dox did. And I'm wondering if maybe I should. If Sinestro gained access to more rings, I'd much rather he use Batman as a template for his training methods than anyone else."

"I'm.. gunna say 'no'."

"How about if Sinestro had an accident? He is under sentence of death in several places."

"Aren't you the one who said that Batman isn't the DPS guy?"

"I suppose. Alright. I'll go and look for more Smilex, you shake down some suspicious characters. Meet you back in an hour?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
22:23 GMT -5

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Smilex dealer. Do you know where I might find one?"

The large black man with the dreadlock ponytail I'm talking to clearly doesn't quite know how to take that.

"Ain't no Smilex dealers 'round here, man."

"No? You're certain?"

"Yeah, that shit just kills you." His friend, a slender white man with a camo-pattern jacket, looks extremely sombre. "Hey Chuck, you remember what happened to Ernesto?"

"Ah yeah." 'Chuck' nods. "'bout, ah..? Three years ago? Dude picked up some stuff, thought it was acid…" He shudders theatrically. "Poor bastard laughed so much he suffocated. I mean, I only really saw him when they stuck him in the ambulance, but his face was all…"

He makes a broad and obviously false grin, drawing false curves on his cheeks with his index fingers. What does it say about Gotham that he had to be reminded of that?

"Glad to hear it. But do you know of anyone who might lack your good sense?"

"You should try China Town. Ghost Dragons be into all kinds of crazy shit."

"Yeah." The white man nods. "Or… I dunno… The Burnley Town Massive run drugs, right?"

Chuck frowns. "They wouldn't do Smilex. No one would touch their stuff again if they did that."

"I'll try China Town, then. Thank you for your assistance." I rise slowly into the-. "Oh." I stop. "One more thing. You haven't seen any fairies, have you?"

They look at each other.

"'Fairies'?" Not-Chuck shakes his head. "Nah, man. Clean livin' all the way."

"No, not in the sense of drug-induced hallucinations. We're due for an invasion of time-travelling fairies from the far future and I'm trying to keep an eye out."

"Ah… Ooooh… Kay?" Chuck shakes his head. "I ain't seen no fairies?"

"Alright. Keep an eye out, would you?"

"Sure. Yeah, we can do that."

I nod. "Oh. And I realise that lock picks, crowbars and pistols aren't illegal, but I'm going to be flying back this way tomorrow, and I'm not going to hear anything about anywhere being broken into, am I?"

Not-Chuck doesn't conceal his wince quite as well as his partner in pre-crime.

"There's a good fellow."

The universe flickers in the way I've become somewhat jaded to, and then I'm in China Town. A product of the largess of one Mr Lee Walter Travis, this place became the home for a large influx of Chinese refugees during the conflicts which preceded the Second World War. And afterwards, when the Nationalists and the Communists had it out. The Ghost Dragons make their home in a low-rent industrial estate which officially houses purely their legitimate businesses. I think I'll walk there to make the point-.

"Orange Lantern?"

An elderly oriental man.. with three missing fingers, is looking up at me.

"Yes? Something I can do for you?"

"I am wondering… Do you know the original Green Lantern?"

"The original Green Lanterns died millions of years ago, but if you mean the fellow from the thirties then yes. He was my first point of contact with superheroes and I still use his personal lantern."

"He is still alive?"

"Last time I checked."

"That is wonderful news!"

I smile. I really need to talk to Alan about coming back here. See what effect a superhero who isn't dour and menacing has on the place.

"I'll tell him that you said that. I'm sure that he'll be pleased-."

"Nineteen forty one! He rescued me from an apartment fire! And then he caught the criminals who set it!"

"He was very good at his job. Listen, you haven't heard anything about someone distributing Smilex, have you?"

"The Joker has escaped again?"

"No. But any sufficiently skilled chemist can replicate the general formula, and some very naughty person was making some on their own recognisance. I don't suppose that you've heard anything about that sort of thing?"

"At my age, those are not the sort of drugs I take." I smile and nod. "But we have many gangs here. Not all are criminals, but… Desperate people do not make good decisions."

I shrug. "I just want to find whoever ordered it made. If some people went looking for a payday and ended up over their heads… The economy is a heartless beast. I can look the other way as long as they tell me what I need to stop it."

He nods. "Perhaps someone I know will have heard something. I will see if someone will confide in an old uncle something they would not wish to tell a superhero."

"I would appreciate that, thank you. But don't put yourself in any danger on my account; this is my job. You're an elderly civilian."

"I doubt that I will forget that." He raises his left hand to wave. "Good evening, Orange Lantern."

"Good evening." Ugh, maybe I won't walk, then. Fingers to my forehead…

I appear amidst revving motorcycles, ridden by five tattooed gang members carrying pipes, swords and semiautomatics. One points and fires it at a nearby building-.

An orange shield blocks the shots, then I reach out and pluck every gang member off their bikes. Said bikes then carry on without them for a short distance before falling on their sides and skidding along the road to a stop. Interestingly, none of the gang members try struggling. I'm not sure if it's shock or if they realise that they're ridiculously outclassed, but they're all content to just hang there.

Ring, contact the police.

Compliance.

"Now, I can't technically arrest you-." I generate another shield as a volley of automatic rifle fire from inside the building hones in on one of my prisoners. "Arrest you, but I'm afraid that I'm going to be holding you until the police arrive." I turn my attention to the building. "While I understand that you're irritated about being shot at, I assure you that the situation is under control."

A few heads… Ah, those are Ghost Dragon tattoos, stick themselves up. They don't look especially happy to see me, but at least they're not shooting.

"By any chance, have any of you heard anything about someone selling Smilex?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd January 2005
09:01 GMT -6

The United States Disciplinary Barracks in Fort Leavenworth is a formidable-looking structure. The brick and stone frontage, the bars on the windows and the armed guards all give the impression of an actual fort. What it is is the place where America puts the worst criminals in its armed services, one of whom has recently had his conviction quashed. Or the charges withdrawn; the American judicial system is largely opaque to me. But whatever, Guy Gardner 50 is getting out today and I thought that someone should be here.

While I'd rather be here openly, given that the offence which he is no longer considered guilty of is working for me I decided that that wasn't a good idea. So illusion charm it is.

Guy Gardner 16 shivers slightly in his all-enveloping long coat, hat tilted to obscure his face. We couldn't risk him wearing his ring in case the locals spotted it, and as a result he's enduring the Kansas winter chill with only conventional warm clothing. He shuffles in place, looking around for something to distract him from how cold he feels. Then his eyes fix on something in the sky-.

SHADE agent and Stormwatch member Kara In-Ze drops out of the sky, hovering just in front of me.

"And why are you here?"

She's dressed for the weather, though I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't feel it either. Thickly woven jeans, a knitted jumper and a thick coat accessorised with a bobble hat. There's something about the whole getup that makes her look young and sweet. Younger and sweeter.

I smile. "Even though I wasn't the one who put him in here, he did end up here as a result of my actions. I feel obliged to give him the opportunity to have it out with me in person."

She lands, eyes downcast, shakes her head and then looks up at me. "I'm here for the same reason. I actually do know what it's like to have the whole country hate you and stuff you in prison for something you didn't do."

"Really? I only ever got locked up for something I did do. What did they get you for?"

"They put you in prison?"

"I put me in prison to make a point. I lured a mass-murdering wizard into an ambush and murdered him. You?"

She hesitates to respond. Fair enough, I'm certain that I'm not her favourite person in the world, but since she met my children and knows that I mostly kayfabed our original encounter… "When… When Kal-El was mind controlled by Darkseid, I caught up with him at a military base he was attacking. I tried to stop him… It didn't go too well. Then the army hit us both with a kryptonite missile Luthor gave them, and I woke up in a cell."

I frown. "Um. Why?"

"General Hardcastle."

"Look, few people have a lower opinion of the US legal system than me, but…" No, no. I can see the US panicking and putting someone in prison without anything approaching due process. And she wasn't that well known at the time. "Yeah, okay. How long were they planning on keeping you there?"

"Oh, not long. They were going to inject me with liquid kryptonite and kill me."

"What? That's a bit-." I frown. "Wait. Were they… Keeping you there with kryptonite, or red sunlight?"

"Red sunlight." She exhales faintly. "Okay, not.. 'sunlight'. Eight feet of concrete to keep out natural light and some red lamps to light my cell."

"Wasn't.. that the same setup that SHADE had in..?" She gives me a look that's.. surprisingly fragile. "Um. Would..? Would you punch me if I hugged you right now?"

Lantern Grayven, I've changed my mind. Just hand me over to Corporal Gardner when he emerges.

She frowns. "No, but only because heat vision is faster. Why are you.. doing this?"

I shrug. "I respect you. I think I'd come to like you if I got to know you properly. And I think-."

My Guy turns his head as the front gate of the prison opens and his doppelgänger exits, right hand holding the kit bag over his shoulder and left hand making rude gestures at the prison guards. My Guy becomes decidedly still as he looks at the living embodiment of how things might have gone. The other fellow takes a look around, his eyes stopping for a moment on the direction of the nearest bus terminal. Then he turns around, drops his pack and sticks both middle fingers up at the gate as it slams shut behind him.

Once he's sure that it's shut and that no one is watching him from the prison side he sags slightly, then bends down to pick up his pack. He takes a moment to make sure that it's properly secured and then starts walking.

"Excuse me, Mister Gardner?"

Kara steps forward, prompting Guy 50 to stop and warily try to work out who she is. The time of his release wasn't passed to the press so there isn't a crowd here waiting to barrage him with questions. I imagine that if there were he'd swiftly find himself saying something regrettable. And then I see the exact moment he works it out.

"What.. the.. fuck 're you doin' here?"

He sounds more bewildered than angry, but given his position I imagine that's a mood which could change very quickly.

"I wanted to apologise. Part of the evidence they used to put you in there was from my report, and… Now that I know why you opened the vault, I can see that I jumped to conclusions."

"Yeah." He nods. "Y' did. You an' everyone else. Fuck alla yah. Anything else?"

It's a sad day when a Guy-variant is so out of sorts that he doesn't bother hitting on a pretty blonde woman.

Kara folds her arms across her chest. "I'm also the reason why your release got expedited."

"Great, thanks, 'cause I've got so much t' be outside for." He turns his head to take in myself and his alter ego. "An' who're you supposed to be?"

"I'm the reason why you went into the vault in the first place." His fists clench instinctively. "I wanted to commend you for your initiative, apologise for my part in inspiring the Justice Department's latest bout of incompetence and offer compensation."

"You can't give me anything!"

"Oh, don't worry. I've made compensation payments to everyone else I injured during my attack as well. It won't look like I'm paying you for services rendered. But, if you really want, you can donate it all to charity or convert it to cash and burn it or… Whatever. Up to you."

"Wait… Were…" He looks from me to Kara and back again. "You two..?"

I shake my head. "No." / "God no."

I smile at Kara's response. "We just saved the world from a parallel universe version of me. Well, I did; Kara had a brief holiday on Thanagar." That earns me a short-lived scowl. She was actually rather busy with the gordanian military until the boom tube opened to bring her back. "So that earned me a reprieve, though unlike you I actually did all the stuff I've been accused of."

"Oh yeah?" He looks at Guy 16. "And who are you? My asshole CO here to apologise too?"

"No." Guy takes off his hat and turns down his collar. "I'm a guy who knows exactly what it's like t' be you."

"The fuck..?"

"I'm a parallel universe you. Only difference is, I had slightly better luck. Got my own power ring. Might even join the Justice League one a' these days. So unlike these two I get alla the crap you went through getting' here. An' maybe I'm the only one you might actually talk to about it. 'Cause I've been where you are. I've been that angry an' I did a whole bunch a' stupid shit." He turns away. "C'm on. Bar's this way, you ain't got nowhere better to be an' Grayven's buying."

Guy 50 looks around in a slight daze, then throws his arms up.

"Fuck it. Why not?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd January 2005
09:56 GMT -6

I glance over to the partially-concealed table where the Guys are having a muttered heart to heart. I actually know what the point of divergence was in their lives, more or less. Guy 16 once told me that he got straightened out by his brother… Before he knew about Mace's criminal sideline. From what I could tell, Guy 50 never had that conversation. Mace Gardner died a year or so early. The nearest Guy 50 had to something like that was joining up with an anti-Lords group while in prison.

Which explains why he's as aggrieved about the whole thing as he is. The military is what he latched onto after the Lords were taken down, and it gave his life structure and meaning. Now, they've kicked him out. Or… Maybe not, I suppose.

I frown at Kara. "So, if he's been released with charges rescinded, does he just show up back at his regiment, or is there some sort of process..?"

At this time of the morning we've got the hotel bar more or less to ourselves. The Guys got a couple of bottles of what appears to be the cheapest beer in the place. No idea why. Kara's got an orange juice while I was mildly pleased to find that they stock Shloer. I suppose the fact that Kansas was a dry state until 1948 might go some way to explaining that, but I've never encountered it outside of England.

"I.. imagine that they'll write him when someone up the chain of command has decided how they want to play it."

I nod and take a sip. There are actually a lot more grape-flavoured things in the United States than I remember there being in Britain. In artificially coloured food, purple means 'grape' here rather than 'black currant' like it did back home.

"How's Scott adapting to the ship?"

"Actually, they decided it would be better if Barda captained it." I nod. Makes sense. I'm not totally sure what Barda's domain is, but it's certainly more associated with violence than Scott's. "Did you know it was called the Absolute Dominion?"

"No, though that does sound like a name I'd give a ship." A big ship, anyway. It would be a bit farcical for a destroyer. "Does it have better crew quarters than the thanagarian ship you were using?"

She shakes her head. "The extra boom tubes are.. convenient, but I'm not going to live there."

"Why not?"

"Because I have a job. I'm a senior SHADE agent, and the agency is still trying to justify its existence. I need to stay visible on Earth."

"What's so great about SHADE?"

"They offer training in how to use super powers and how the law works. And if you're planning on bringing up the children-"

"It did cross my mind."

"-that was the army, and then Father Time personally. Most of SHADE had nothing to do with that. It's.. just a federal law enforcement agency that's responsible for overseeing people with super powers."

"Oh? We're setting something like that up in my parallel." I smile, leaning slightly closer. "We should compare notes."

She peers uncertainly at me. "Are you..? Look, are you actually interested in me, or are you just trying to wind me up again?"

"My admiration for you is entirely unfeigned. You possess all of the characteristics I find most attractive." Ah… "Well, the size difference could be a slight problem, but that aside I very much like what I see and hear."

"A-?" She looks away, blinking heavily and shaking her head. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation."

"Why is it such a surprise? The first time we met I asked you to marry me."

She shakes her head more vehemently, then frowns, looking at me. "Wait, I thought you said that was role-play?"

"A bit yes, a bit no. I enjoy being bombastic and assertive. I like being direct about what I want. Yes, I set myself up as a foe dishonestly, but I really enjoyed the chance to ham it up like that. I was having great fun right up until the nuke went off."

"It took Marvel two weeks before he could taste anything other than that.. spray!"

"And I'm sure that he's now learned to take precautions against scent weapons. He fought much better this time."

"Did Flash even really-." She cuts herself off, eyes widening. "Oh God. That was you."

"Well,-."

"I saw you speeding up when we fought. I thought that maybe you were using Sinestro's ring or you were just that fast. You have some way of giving people super speed, and you pretended it was from Flash."

"And what do you think my motive was?"

"Because you thought it would be fun to abuse her trust? To mock-" I shake my head. "-Flash's memory?"

"Neither John nor Shayera would have tolerated that. We thought that you needed a Flash."

"But why Eliza?"

"She seemed to fit the character profile required. Of course, we couldn't vet everyone… But I think we made a good choice. Does she know?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell her?"

Kara fidgets awkwardly. "I.. don't think so. I couldn't do that to her."

"I think that's the right choice, but I hope that having made it you'll be a little more understanding of Richard and myself."

"Oh no. This is not the same as what you did."

She's staring at me, the determination written clear on her face-.

"Are you getting turned on by this?"

"No, not.. turned on. It isn't sexual. But I do like the fact that you're confronting me like this. I respect the fact that you have clear moral beliefs. You know…" I lean a little closer. "I'm pretty sure that given enough time you could moderate my worse behavioural tendencies. If you were willing to put in the effort."

"What makes you think I'm single?"

"The fact that you haven't brought that up before. But if you tell me otherwise I'm happy to back off."

"And what about you? Too busy conquering the world?"

"I had an.. unfortunate misunderstanding which ended my last serious relationship. We're.. on reasonable terms now, but the relationship is very much over. The last woman I dated rather lost interest when… Well, she'd internalised her enemy's epistemology and might-makes-right ideals, When she realised that I wasn't interested in brute force conquest or unquestioningly supporting her political ambitions her ardour dimmed somewhat. I have female friends, employees, students… But I'm not dating any of them. And… Frankly, if I have to personally oversee every part of a campaign of conquest then I'm doing it wrong."

"What about your kids?"

"I.. wouldn't expect you to take on a maternal role you weren't prepared for. But I hope that if things go well, you'll come to consider them part of your family just as I do."

She looks away. "I can't believe that I'm even considering this."

"You'd be surprised how often I hear that."

"No I wouldn't."

"Oh, I think you would. Where would you like to go for our second date?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
23:35 GMT -5

Detective Foley frowns slightly as he walks back from interviewing a small group of witnesses from the apartment block opposite. "Hm."

"Something wrong, detective?"

"It's this whole 'Gotham not being a nightmare' thing." He shakes his head. "Just a few years back everyone would have clammed up after something like this. Now, I'm gunna have to call in more uniforms just to get all the statements."

"I take it that you grew up in Gotham, then?"

"Uh-huh." He looks around, putting his notebook back in his jacket. "I joined up too late to have to go through the worst of it back in the nineties, but I saw plenty anyway. Heh." He smiles. "I guess this is what it's like being on the police in other cities, right?"

"People helping the police, yes. Drive by shootings, not so much."

"I don't know if this counts-."

There's a flash as another member of the Congregation teleports in, carrying a flask of coffee.

"I thought those guys were all auxiliaries these days. Why not get them to do it? You know they'd love to."

"That's against the rules. Oh, they can type them up and whatever, but actually questioning witnesses? No way. They wanna do that, then they can go to the academy like everyone else."

"Are some of them doing that?"

"Yeah. Which is gunna be fun in a couple of years. Don't think we're ever had metahuman officers in Gotham."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugs. "You'd think with all the crazies we'd get at least one or two." He shakes his head. "No. Guess they figure they can get better offers in Metropolis or something."

"Well… Given the choice…"

He nods. "So… Hey, you don't need to.. stick around. We've got your statement, your recordings. The Dragons aren't going to try anything with all of us right here."

I nod. "Thank you. I'll do that. Let me know if-."

"Detective!" We look around as a uniformed officer dashes up. "Message on the radio! Some gang's attacking the mayor's house! Commish says we're closest!"

"Yeah, probably." He turns to me. "But if we're working with vigilantes now anyway… You wanna chip in?"

Ring?

"Ah, excellent!"

"That's kinda harsh. I mean, I didn't vote for him either-."

"I'm not an American citizen. My ring just showed me that the attackers are wearing Alice in Wonderland-themed costumes! I've wanted to talk to Jervis Tetch for a while. I've got a sneaking suspicion that his hats are based on a stripped-down Thinker's Cap-."

"Whow." Detective Foley looks concerned. "The mind control guy. Ah, look, I don't think Gotham would survive it if he got a hold of you. Maybe-."

I don my power armour. "No, it's fine. Not only am I trained to resist mental intrusions, but this armour has every different sort of telepathic baffle I know about. Including a short term memory backup, just in case. It'll take more than a 'mad hat' to get through. Please organise prisoner transportation for twelve people."

In this armour it isn't practical to raise my right forefinger to my forehead, so I skip that and just teleport straight to the room. Two guards, wearing… Extremely amateurish Tweedledum and Tweedledee costumes. They look like someone tried to design a 'dark and gritty' version, but was hamstrung by the need to make it recognisable as the Lewis Carroll character. They aren't Dumfree and Deever Tweed. Maybe they fell out with Tetch?

Doesn't really matter. I take control of the cameras attached to their jackets and the cameras mounted on the roof and set them to show what they would show if all was well. Then I scan their phones, examine their records… Next call in is in three minutes. I don't need that long. Pick up the numbers and stun them. Subspace their guns and tie them up.

Ten people remaining. Three watching the front, two at the back. Three shepherding the mayor and family into the dining hall. Two waiting there. None of them are Tetch, which is a little disappointing. Maybe that's an Alice? He's found one who's actually criminally inclined? From her dress I'd have thought that she was more of a Duchess figure, but I've… Never actually read Alice in Wonderland. Their clothes are a bit off and they've got themed masks. How important is it?

Probably not very.

I phase through the building, coming out behind the two rear guards. Cameras-. In fact, get into the internal security cameras and make them all send clear images. And stun, guns and telephones. Then I drop, phasing through the basement and coming up behind… Two, the third out of line of sight for a moment. Huh, if I couldn't see emotions this might actually be hard. They're stunned, third guy's stunned, and everyone else is in the dining room.

Huh. No scry-blocking here either. I suppose that there's no margin in it for Luthor to help Gotham crazies, but it's still nice to see the bad guys not being first to adopt new techniques.

Five remain, four armed men and the woman who appears to be in charge. She's carrying a small knife, with another small knife in a concealed sheath. No gun, no armour. The patterns of emotion inside her suggest that she's a good deal less than entirely rational. But: Gotham. At this point that was more or less what I was expecting. Extend filaments through the house and.. transition the hostages to the front door.

I wave to them as the mayor hustles his family out of the house, then amble -in as much as power armour lets me amble- towards the dining room.

"Boss, they just vanished."

"Oh. So they did."

"Yeah, that was me." I stroll in. "You're under arrest for… Attempted murder? I don't really know what your aim was-"

Guns come up and bullets stop dead as they hit my kinetic barrier.

"-here. I've been living in this city long enough that I'm getting junk mail with my name on it posted to me. And even if -for some insane reason- I didn't get called in… Twelve people? Batman's only in the Ukraine, he could be back in an hour if he felt he had to. Robin could take twelve people. Artemis could take twelve people. And Batwoman… Exists."

Hm. Not feeling any telepathic intrusion or detecting any equipment.

"And I didn't want to go there, but that knife? My penis is bigger than that knife. That is not a scary knife. Is Tetch getting here later?"

"I don't work for Tetch."

"You might end up working for him involuntarily if he finds out you've been using his theme. What are you called, anyway?"

"I am Alice, and I will-."

I put a construct muzzle on her.

"Oh, not a good choice of name. I'll see about making sure you aren't housed near Tetch when they take you to Arkham. Now are you going to put your weapons down or am I going to have to nearly make an effort?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
23:48 GMT -5

"I'm glad I didn't have plans this evening."

I note that the police who are loading the gang members into the van are highly experienced in applying straitjackets to uncooperative future-patients. I tried unmuzzling 'Alice' for a little while, but there are only so many insane rants a person can listen to.

Detective Foley nods sympathetically. "You got work tomorrow?"

"I make my own hours, and I don't have any meetings scheduled."

That earns me a smile which is significantly less sympathetic. "Alright for some."

"If you want an orange power ring, you're welcome to go through our training process. We've only driven seventeen people insane so far."

Dox's prognosis -or rather, the prognosis Dox passed on- was that most of them will recover. Shorn of contact with the orange light their minds should be able to return to equilibrium, though obviously it will never be safe to let them wield an orange ring again. I.. don't know exactly the 'drop out' rate I was expecting, but… Honestly, I'm a little surprised it's gone this well.

"They all singing 'New York New York' too?"

"Little more serious than that."

He looks away. "Yeah, I guessed. Think I'd handle it better?"

I stare at him, my eyes flaring orange. Um. Gosh, how the heck did a well balanced individual end up on the Gotham police force? Strands of orange light within reasonable bounds, restrained by socialisation. There's no real core to his identity, no one thing I can point to as his defining characteristic. More green than average, but not exceptionally so. Probably a consequence of having a job that routinely involves confrontation. In the event of an orange light surge… Probably nothing worse than petty selfishness. But at the same time, he lacks the mechanisms to channel the orange light well.

I blink the glow away.

"Yes, probably. But not particularly well, without significant retraining."

He shrugs. "Probably couldn't get the time off work anyways."

"So, again, do you still need me..?"

"The mayor's gunna want to thank you, but he can do that tomorrow. Far as I'm concerned you can go. We know how to get in touch if we've got any other questions."

I nod, wave my right hand and then raise it to my forehead. Alright, where's Selina?

"…quietly as you can."

I'm in a.. small room, an unconscious albino laying on the floor next to an open reinforced door. A mildly dishevelled crowd is creeping out and down a corridor at Selina's urging. Recent abductees? Not a lot of Caucasian faces. Racial targeting or targets of opportunity amongst the unregistered immigrant community?

"Catwoman?"

She looks my way, for a second going into a combat pose before recognising me and returning to her previous level of alertness.

"Can you get them out faster?"

Hm. My vision is being blocked, radio.. also being blocked.

"Where are we?"

The liberated prisoners stop, making way as Selina walks over to me.

"Underneath the Breed Building."

"And why are we being quiet?"

"Guards. One of them was a dog made of darkness. I think there's something magical going on."

I nod. "Are you wearing the spell eater-?"

She nods, smiling. "Never leave home without it."

"Quickest way out is for me to cut a tunnel through the ground. Lots of noise and collateral damage. Or I can fly us out the way you came in, which any competent wizard will have warded."

"How good are you at fighting ancient sorcerers?"

"Really good. The older the better, really; they're less likely to have kept themselves up to date."

I can see the patterns of activity as she thinks it over. While perfectly capable of acts of selflessness, Selina isn't a superhero. She doesn't have the burning need to shove her hands into fires that they… That we do. Given the opportunity to do what she set out to -rescue these people- she's perfectly happy to leave the rest to a professional.

She turns to the crowd. "Anyone up for running away really quickly?"

Several nods, a few of the braver ones even smile. I redon my armour, switching out a few of the anti-telepathy systems for the newer magic-baffles. With three rings' worth of power to draw on the cost of putting things like that in subspace is much less of a problem than it used to be, and something about Larfleeze's ring makes it easier still. Age, perhaps? Prolonged contact with the Ophidian? Don't know.

I generate a large and -due to the space requirements- somewhat flattened crumbler gauntlet construct. They don't usually make much noise, but I'll add a suppressor anyway. And up it goes, cutting a steep tunnel out through the Gotham… Soil, right, transmuting some supports to keep the tunnel intact. The braver prisoners are edging towards the construct-.

Selina smiles as she takes the lead.

"Let's not stick around while a Lantern fights an ancient sorcerer. I doubt digging a giant tunnel under a skyscraper made this place any safer."

And with her in the lead and a worried glance at the ceiling, they're on their way. I cancel the construct as it punches its way through the street outside the lobby. I sliced through some power cables, but this whole building is going to need to be mystically decontaminated anyway…

"Huh. You took down White Rabbit. I wonder if his feet are luckier than the rest of him?"

A woman with white hair and wearing a black mask, tight-fitting black t-shirt and black cycle shorts walks through the door.

"I doubt it. He was taken down by Catwoman. Are you the hierophant of this little cult?"

She blinks, confused. "Hierowhat?"

That sounds like a 'no'.

"Alright. Take me to your leader so I can beat him, her or it into a stupor and get on with my day."

"Yeah, no." Her body begins to disintegrate, the blackness around her taking on a new shape as it does so. "I-."

My world darkens as my photon cannon shoots her in the face-

"AAAIIIIIEEEEEE!"

-and she collapses to the ground, her shadow construct failing and her human body returning. Interesting. I knew there were other people who could draw power from the Shadowlands, but I hadn't specifically heard of this one before. I take a dimensional stabiliser out of subspace along with a set of manacles and start binding her.

Now, while I could probably handle whoever's running the show myself, I suppose that it wouldn't hurt to have some expert advice.

Ring, phone John Quinn.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
23:53 GMT -5

Seriously?

I hold the slime man up in a construct-ball. While somewhat protean he doesn't actually appear to be all that strong. I could.. probably freeze him solid without killing him…

"While I'm not exactly impressed with… Whoever's in charge here's bodyguard, American law allows me to use mentally invasive techniques in order to get information on active supervillains. So you can either tell me who's doing this of your own free will, or without your own free will. You've got until the count of three."

Snotman just sneers.

"Fine. Brand."

His eyes rotate upward as his forehead glows with an orange sigil, the light turning his translucent body an odd shade of purple. Yes, this one is very much in tune with his lower-order desires. He started absorbing and digesting animals but I can see at least… Seven? People he's done the same to.

This part of the lower levels of the Breed Building has a 'modern fortification meets ancient tomb' aesthetic. Which means that it's probably a relatively young mage serving an ancient one, the worst combination as far as I'm concerned. Not that I'm exactly shivering in my armour given the power level of the help they're employing, but I think I might end up glad that John's on his way.

Brand complete.

"Snotman, you want to be helpful. Also, you no longer feel any particular drive to ingest living things."

"Strega's in charge. She's a powerful sorceress. Though, I suppose that given how powerful you are, you might not care."

"Never heard of her. Has she done anything I might know about?"

"She's killed a lot of people, but not all at once. I don't think she's done anything that made the news."

And isn't that a damning indictment of our society. I'm going to have to talk to someone about setting up a worldwide magic detection network again. I was convinced to put it on the back burner given Klarion's death and the civil liberties issues but if this sort of thing is going unnoticed...

"Does she work for someone?"

"Um. Maybe? She doesn't let us in her ritual room when she's killing them, and she's mentioned a 'lord' a few times. But I've never met them. She might just be religious."

It would be interesting to meet an evil magic user who was religious without actively making pacts with the object of their reverence. But not so interesting that I'd actually want to do it.

I take a giant crumbler gauntlet construct to the stone door ahead of me and erase it, a brief crackle of red light flickering out and then dying as the spell fails to find me.

For a moment I consider shouting something. Maybe… 'Avon calling!' But it just feels inappropriate and… A bit sexist? Oh well.

I walk forward, Snotman floating along behind me in his bubble. The flagstones down here have a clear pattern of wear between the exterior door and the interior, as if someone has been walking the exact same route for a very long time. The carvings on the walls appear to be decorative, though my knowledge of magic inscriptions is almost entirely modern rather than historical.

I create two construct railguns and load mageslayers.

"Strega, you're under arrest! I will warn you now that I am carrying lethal ordnance and am authorised to use it!"

The big stone doors at the end of the room are probably concealing her ritual space. Not like there's anywhere else for her to be. And I don't just mean because of the lack of visible exits; there's only so much subbasement space you can purloin in a city like Gotham before someone notices.

Ah, hang on.

FEED ME!

Stone abrades and fades, Snotman loses physical cohesion in his construct ball and a puff of red mist gets sucked away from an apparently empty part of the room, revealing a half-mask wearing woman with red hair wearing a red costume. Her hands are raised in a stereotypical casting-pose, so perhaps she's not as modern as I thought?

I point my railguns at her. "Last chance."

"How did.. you..?"

The railgun round hits the air in front of her, another puff of red bursting as it strikes a rapidly erected barrier spell. The second one strikes her in the left thigh, blasting through meat and bone and only just failing to tear the leg off entirely. The force spins her around and she collapses bonelessly to the ground, moaning faintly as she does so.

I take another suppression chain out of subspace and attach it to her… Well, there's not much point attaching it to her left leg, but her arms, right leg and neck are solid attachment points. Blood loss and shock have already caused her to lose consciousness and…

I take a quick look at her desire-structures. Ugh. That's unusual. Far older than a normal human lifespan should allow but actually not all that powerful. But I've seen enough to destroy any desire I might have to actually heal her with my rings. Instead I take an x-ionised blade out of subspace, neatly amputate what's left of it at the hip and then carefully seal off the leaking blood vessels. That will keep her alive and I don't feel any further obligation to her.

Now, what's behind the door?

I generate another construct crumbler gauntlet and move to strike the door when a golden ankh flares into being in the air next to me. It flickers for a moment and then stabilises, allowing John Quinn to step through with the helmet on his head.

He takes a quick look around and his gaze fixes on the severed leg.

"Bit of a bloody mess."

"Try reading her aura."

"Not with that chain on-. Oh the leg, yeah." He kneels down next to it in the direction away from the blood pool and reaches out to it. "Ooh. Nasty. Lots of fatal blood sacrifice." He looks up at the door. "What's through there?"

"Let's find out."

I swing the crumbler construct and erase the door. There's a flicker of red light again, but once again the spell fails to find me. Inside the room… Pillars, carvings and a stone sarcophagus a different colour to the stone of the rest of the structure.

"Recognise it?"

"Not really, mate. All these ancient sarcophaguses start to look alike after a while."

I turn up my empathic vision-.

Green mist flares into life around the sarcophagus… Not sure what that's supposed to be doing.

Spell eater temperature increasing.

I add another from subspace and then send the original there to discharge.

"John?"

"Some sort of defence-piercing life drain spell. Don't get any closer than you have to."

"Would you be willing to testify that whoever this is represents an existential threat to Gotham City?"

"That's impossible to know for sure. Yes, they're powerful enough to threaten the city, but that's not the same as knowing that they would actually choose to threaten it."

"Fine." I load another set of crumbler rounds and shoot through the spell, destroying the sarcophagus lid. "Let's ask them directly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th February
23:57 GMT -5

"Uuuugh?"

A lithely muscled old man with a receded head of long white hair weakly tries to pull himself out of the sarcophagus. His eyes are unfocused as he takes a bleary look around the room.

Hm. There was probably some sort of ritual that was supposed to be used to wake him up. Ah well.

"John?"

"I don't know his face, but-" He raises his hands, a small ankh glowing between them. "-his aura's full of violent death, and… He's pledged himself to some sort of life-eater."

"Good enough for me."

I clamp magic suppression chains around him, an action which prompts a sudden increase in his wakefulness.

"Who are.. you? Where's Strega?"

"On the floor trying not to bleed to death. Please tell me who you are."

"Oh." He just about manages to pull himself up into a sitting position and looks past myself and John, spotting Strega splayed out on the floor. "Ah. Well, in that case I'm going to have to kill you and use your life force to restore her. Nothing personal, but I've woken up early and I'm rather hungry."

He gestures at me with his right hand, and nothing happens.

"Thank you! For a moment I was worried about what I was going to arrest you for, but that was clearly attempted murder."

He stares at his hand in bewilderment. "What-? You… How?"

"That chain is capable of containing a Lord of Chaos. You're not quite at that level. Though it is mildly reassuring to know that in other circumstances you might have been a threat. Some of the people I've been wasting time with this evening…"

I roll my eyes as he tries to get his hands working.

"Now, I'm guessing that you've been life-leeching to sustain yourself? Your physical age is about seventy, and given how magic deageing effects tend to decay, I estimate that you'll drop dead before the ten years you'll probably serve for attempted murder elapse. As such I see no need for extraordinary measures."

"WHERE DID YOU GET THIS INFERNAL CHAIN!?"

"Why on Earth would I tell you anything? Now, I don't know how long you've been down here for, but I'll try and bring you up to speed." I frown for a moment. "John, what language is he speaking?"

"He's switching between at least two languages at random, modern English and… A language I don't recognise. Sounds a little like Spanish."

"Have you heard of a country called 'The United States of America'?"

"What? Where?"

"I wouldn't recommend that approach. The Gotham City police are very strict on insanity pleas."

"No. Yes." He lifts his hands up to his head, but stops when the chains clack against each other. "I heard things as I slept and dreamt-."

"Good! That will save your court-appointed lawyer a lot of time. Now: can you get out of there yourself, or do you require assistance and a wheelchair?"

He points his hands to his left, and a hole appears in the air next to him. Through it I can see a white void filled with tiny-.

The portal is surrounded by the upper loop of a golden ankh and floats over to John, much to the ancient sorcerer's obvious distress. John raises it up to his face so that he can get a good look at it.

"From the feel of things, this is a pocket plane filled with magic artefacts."

"How..?"

"You learn a thing or two, living in a dimensionally exotic tower. And… That should cut off your access." He looks my way. "Do you need these as evidence?"

"Probably. Put it somewhere safe without touching anything inside, and I'll try and get a forensic team and a court-appointed wizard sent to you before the end of the week."

"They have those now?"

"After Swamp Thing's attack, Gotham -and Connecticut generally, actually- made a point of getting the most up to date laws on magic they could. Some of the legislation is still passing through the state senate, but they expanded the court's ability to appoint experts to include wizards."

"Is it a salaried position?"

"I don't know. And.. I'm afraid that they'd probably ask for written qualifications, or membership of a known superhero team. Maybe if you upped your profile..?"

"I could give it a try." He waves his right hand, and the ankh and all of the weapons associated with it vanish.

The ancient sorcerer -who has just about managed to crawl his way out of the sarcophagus- collapses to the ground, his eyes fixed in despair on the point where his arsenal was moments before.

"John, would you mind poking around and shutting off any other spells there are on this place? I'm going to have to call the police in, and they're not magic-proof."

"Not a problem, mate." He looks around, the eyes of his helmet glowing gold. "Yeah, this is going to take a while. You couldn't get me a coffee, could you?"

I take the mug of kopi luwak coffee I made for a joke out of subspace and-. And add a heat resistant straw to the mug, then pass it to him.

"Cheers."

He takes hold of the cup in his left hand -straw poking under his helmet- and generates an ankh over his right hand as I create a construct wheelchair and load the ancient-.

"What's your name?"

He looks at me like a man who has just had the pillars of his world kicked over. "I'm not-. Telling you my name."

"Ah, no, see, we don't need your name to use magic on you. We've gotten far beyond that." I wheel him out of the sarcophagus chamber and generate another wheelchair for Strega, sticking her severed leg in the luggage compartment. "We just need something to put on the paperwork. You can make it up if you like, though I'll warn you that if you pick something like 'fuckingshitman'-" Sadly, an actual example. "-that everyone will call you that until you die, whereupon it will be written upon your grave."

"Uh. The city above us. What is it called?"

"Gotham."

"Then… Gotham. Doctor Gotham."

"Not without a doctorate from an appropriately notable educational establishment, Mister Gotham."

I scoop Snotman up in another construct and add him to the villain train. They're never going to fit in the elevator. I'll have to take them up the tunnel I made for the prisoners.

"Now, I should warn you that any casualties inflicted by gods, demons or spells you may have bound here will be considered as having been inflicted by you and taken into account when determining your sentence. Is there anything which you would like to tell me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February
00:21 GMT -5

"Orange Lantern." Dr Balewa looks at my prisoners. "What is this?"

"An ancient sorcerer -allegedly-, his chief acolyte and a collection of minor magic-using criminals. Apparently, there are very few people that the Gotham police are allowed to hand criminal magic users over to… It's basically you, Giovanni Zatara and Angelica."

He gives Mister Gotham and Strega a slightly closer look.

"What became of that woman's leg?"

"It was used in the commission of a crime, so I confiscated it."

"I… See. Will it be returned to her?"

"Well, it's evidence now. That's up to the Gotham police."

I snort with laughter, though Dr Balewa does not appear to see the humour.

"Orange Lantern, are you well?"

I shake my head. "It's been a bit of a weird night. Can you take over here? I've got John Quinn dealing with any dangerous enchantments in the basement and I don't think I've really got anything to add."

"Yes." He nods. "I think that it may be for the best if you call it an evening."

"Probably." I raise my right hand to my forehead and

step out

and reappear on the top of a nearby building next to Selina, who's crouching at the edge of the roof and watching the activity below.

"Everyone away safely?"

I'm mildly impressed that she doesn't jump. On the other hand: Batman. "As safe as Gotham gets. Was one of those people the lunatic who organised this?"

"Yes, the one missing a leg."

She looks at me dubiously. "I know Batman's policy is no killing, but I don't think he's going to be happy about that either."

"Then he can deal with the next evil wizard on his own. Besides, she's going to be executed anyway, it's not like she's going to be disabled for long."

"So is that a policy..?"

"Yes, but not for all opponents. Against a powerful magic user whose precise capacities are unknown but probably quite advanced I'm not going to use rubber-tipped anti-magic rounds. Particularly not in the middle of an inhabited city. Taking them down fast takes priority over taking them down politely."

"Just so long as I don't have to worry."

I frown. "Is that what you..? Thought?"

"You don't have the best reputation for mental stability, and around here…"

"Crimson Avenger shot dozens of people dead."

She looks at me askance. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"America's first costumed adventurer. Wore a red suit?"

She shakes her head.

"He worked in Gotham a few times, back before Green Lantern settled here."

"What powers did he have?"

"I'm not sure he had any innate powers. I remember reading that his guns were possessed by demons who helped him hunt down evildoers, but I haven't confirmed that for myself."

"So the mystery man got shoved aside when the Lantern turned up?"

"No, I said that Crimson Avenger worked in Gotham sometimes. Green Lantern certainly wouldn't have kicked him out."

"I was just commenting on the obvious parallel-."

"He's in the Ukraine and yes, I spotted that."

She saunters over to a ventilation unit and hops up on it, then turns around and lounges on the metal in a mildly provocative pose. "It will be interesting to see how Batman reacts. I've never seen him disappointed in someone else before."

"And this attitude has got nothing to do with the fact that when the two of you were 'togetherish', you'd have been looking for some 'bat-personal time' after a heroic action like that?"

"I'm not confirming anything, but are you and that assassin girl-?"

"Yes, though thank you for including me on your bat-substitute list. It really validates my existence as a man."

She smiles and looks away, the claws of her right hand drumming on the metal.

"What were you doing here, anyway? I mean, good work-"

"Thank you, it's nice that you noticed."

"-but it doesn't seem like your area of expertise."

"People were disappearing. The albino, the one-eyed redhead and the white-haired girl stood out. I got a copy of the building's plans and rode the elevator down."

"Really? That seems a bit…"

"I make it sound easier than it actually was. And your charm helped me bypass their magic security." She thinks for a moment. "The Albino had a sword-."

I take it out of subspace. "I've been looking for a new magic melee weapon. I'll have Hephaestus have a look at it, see if we can find out what it can do."

"How much is it worth?"

"I can't appraise it until I know what it does. Also, I'm authorised to complete the documents required to confiscate supervillain equipment legally and you're not." She pouts. "How much do you want?"

"What, you're not going to haggle?"

"I have infinite money, Selina. There's no market price for magic swords so I can't name that-plus-a-percentage. What do you wan-?"

There's an explosion to the south. We both turn to look at it, and even as I see the extinguishing of emotional lights that indicates people are dying I just feel… Frustration.

Disappointment.

I sigh.

"You know, I've worked something out this evening."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"It used to be that I got annoyed at other superheroes for using their abilities purely for crime-fighting and not using them to revolutionise human society. But I think I'm getting it now. It wasn't that they were.. too stupid to realise the opportunity, no. The problem was that a never-ending cavalcade of psychotic total morons were perfectly happy to throw themselves at them, and they never had the-. Gosh-darn time to do anything but fight them off."

I take a.. deep breath.

"I'm going to go and deal with whatever that is and then go and get this sword appraised. Think about what you want for it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February
00:28 GMT -5

I play my cold guns over the still-burning low rise apartment building, the Kobra wannabes who set the explosives hanging off my construct tethers. Remote controlled explosives aren't that hard to make or… This is America after all, purchase completely legally. But these people decided to try re-enacting a ploy I've only seen in The Nightly News: commit a large crime and then hang about to target the people who respond to it. But whatever superweapons their masters might have access to, this street gang with delusions of mediocrity just have legally purchased rifles.

Of course, in The Nightly News they were targeting journalists and not police or firemen or paramedics.

Fire's mostly out so I switch to transferring out the wounded, causing them to appear around the ambulances. It's… A little slow going, honestly. I do want to help, but the… Not 'altruism fatigue', but… 'Desire identification fatigue'? That's closer to it. I'm being forced to fight metaphorical and literal fires threatening people in whom I have no personal investment. I don't mind helping out once or twice a week, but running to stand still just makes me-.

"Hey, Oh El."

And they're all out.

"Robin. How's your night going?"

"Kinda crazy, actually."

"I know the feeling. Is there something… Some sort of evil stellar alignment which happens in Gotham at this time of year?"

"In the middle of February? Not that I know about. But it's kind of an unknown unknown? I haven't checked." He briefly checks the area. "Do you think there's an evil calendar we could subscribe to?"

"I'll ask Jade."

"What's wrong?"

"I've never had this. A bunch of bad things happening one after the-." I frown. "Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"Not after a night like this. School gets cancelled if things out here get too violent. And it won't be the first time I've had to skip." He looks up at the people I've tethered. "Who are they?"

"They were trying to commit an atrocity in order to pad their resume for their Kobra application."

"Are Kobra even still a thing?"

"We might need to look into that. Or maybe they're just behind with the news." Police cars zoom into the road, only slowing when the officers inside see me floating overhead. I deposit my prisoners next to them, with the evidence and my report landing next to the senior detective. "Does this happen a lot?"

"Remember when you said we should all spend some time in the worst cities on the planet?"

"Yes?"

"They were all worse than this."

"Yes, but… They were places known to be total holes. In poor, corrupt countries with ineffectual states. This is America, and-. Gotham was supposed to be getting better."

"I'm… Kinda surprised that you're this bothered, Oh El. This is just one night. Usually it's…"

He looks momentarily thoughtful.

"What?"

"Unless it's a villain plot."

Like what comic Bane did before he broke Batman's back. Or what comic Black Mask did to beat Batman in a fight. Or Mr Napier did once here just for the fun of it.

"What if it is?"

"Then.. we.. try and work out who it is and what they're planning. Come on, Oh El, I know you didn't sleep through the lesson."

"Sure, and that's… Nice in theory. But there are so many potential culprits-. No, I can't believe that someone coordinated with the ancient sorcerer Selina and I found under the Breed Building."

"Ah… What?"

"Oh, there was a sorcerer in a sarcophagus. Looked like he'd been there a while. The chief acolyte was sacrificing people to him. Those aren't clubbable people, and the bottom-tier supervillain I branded didn't say anything about wider cooperation."

"Would they have known? I mean, gang leaders are smart enough not to tell everyone what's going on, and…" He shakes his head. "Really an ancient wizard?"

"John Quinn and Doctor Balewa are on-site now. I mean, if someone was making a distraction then I'd guess it was them to conceal their abductions. But if things-." No, that would-. The people making diversionary attacks wouldn't be employees or cultists. They'd be third party operators nudged into making their attacks at the same time, they wouldn't have any direct communication. "How confident are you that this is being orchestrated?"

"I don't really have any evidence… But…"

"Right."

I transition down to where the police are checking over the gang members.

"Would you excuse me for a moment? I need to check them over for lingering magic effects and fairies."

"Ah…" The closest detective looks around to see if anyone knows whether I'm joking or not, but they all seem happy to leave it to the man on the spot. "Sure."

"Thank you."

I take a rune stone out and wave it at the closest Kob… Kobrite? That sounds about right. No reaction, and none of the cuts in the back of the neck or spine that might indicate the presence of a spine rider. I move on to the next, repeating the process.

"No, I'm-." The detective shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I can't let that go. Fairies?"

"About two inches high, with the ability to plug into the back of someone's neck and control them. They're from the future and they're evil. Have you ever heard of the late boxer, Mo Colley?"

"Can't say I have?"

"Huge bloke. Beat Ted Grant in his prime. Then he went crazy and murdered a couple of police officers before being shot dead. Spine rider. Forensic examiners don't look for the signs, but in somewhere as crazy as Gotham-" I keep checking, but I'm not seeing any sign that they are anything other than the violent thugs that they appear to be. "-it's worth checking, in case there's a nest of the bastard things."

"Ah…"

"Don't worry, there probably wouldn't be anything you can do at this stage anyway. But you might want to visit the range a little more for when their fleet arrives. Large calibre rifles can kill the soldier types, though you'd need an automatic cannon to hurt the war beasts."

"I'll… Keep that in mind."

"No fairies here, though." I turn up my empathic vision in case that shows anything, but all I'm getting is the standard mix of angry, violent disaffection. "Thank you for your forbearance."

I transition back up to Richard.

"So if this is orchestrated..?"

"I'm not seeing a pattern so far. But someone must have seen that gang who attacked the mayor's house arrive."

I nod. "CCTV room it is."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February
00:33 GMT -5

Detective Bullock ambles ahead of us through the Gotham Police headquarters. "Jeez, don't you kids ever sleep?"

Robin shrugs. "You're awake too."

Despite the weight I've taken off him during our altercations, Bullock hasn't altered his gait or style of dress. Has he..? Not noticed? No. No.

"I get paid overtime. An' anyway, I'll take time off later. Things are going crazy t'night."

"Tell me about it."

He stops just outside the CCTV room, looking back my way. "Some nut job nearly took out the Breed Building."

"It looked structurally unsound to me. Also, I think that might cause your job to become a little easier."

"I doubt it."

He pushes the door open and nods at the people manning the screens. A WayneTech experimental pattern recognition system, it's supposed to be able to detect crimes and notify police faster than someone can phone 911. And it… Kind of works. Except that without a teleportation system all they can do is call the nearest car, so in the case of violent crimes… Well, the survival rate is higher, but at the moment this would have been better stationed in the local ambulance depot.

Richard is already-. Hang on. This place has basic wards which prevent me remote-accessing it, but I don't believe for a moment that the Bat-family don't have a back door. Why are we here rather than the Cave? Can't ask him out loud, not with people around.

"What're you kids looking for, anyway?"

"We want to know where Alice's gang came from."

Bullock frowns. "Alice. As in, Mad Hatter?"

"According to her, no."

He smirks. "If I was fuckin' Hatter I wouldn't 'fess to it neither."

…

U-uh.

"Say that again and I'll make a hologram of it so that you can't get the image out of your head either."

"Okay, I've got the van." Thank you, Richard. "Tracking it back…"

"How did they get in?"

"Looks like they had the key."

"Shit. Has someone checked their cleaner? Gardener? Whoever else-?"

"Why?" Bullock shrugs. "If the gang killed 'em, they aren't gunna get deader, are they? You already got the gang, so we don't need t' rush on their account. Tetch is still in Arkham, you got their boss… These kinda people don't do backup traps for the side-targets."

"You think they're dead."

"I think we only got so many people, an' with other shit happening there ain't no point calling 'em off to go knockin' on doors tonight." He sees my expression and shrugs. "You wanna go look in on 'em while Robin plays with his computer, be my guest."

…

No, I can't. Been a while since I've hit a wall like this, but right now Gotham doesn't feel like mine. It's being stupid, as daft an anthropomorphism as that is. Right now I'm in the mood to kick it, not pick it up. I could fly to their homes… Yes, Richard can contact me by phone when he has something a little more concrete.

"True. Robin, do you need me here?"

"Got it!"

"Huh?"

"Come on, Oh El. It's just tracking a truck. Well, three trucks. And it doesn't look like they got the key from the mayor's staff. Not recently, anyway."

He presses a button on his arm computer, and the image expands.

"See, they switched vehicles twice, but they started out-."

I close my eyes. "An abandoned warehouse on the waterfront?"

"Hey, have you been to Gotham before?"

"Yes."

"Good guess, but no. This time it was an abandoned warehouse just off the waterfront."

"Someone should really pull those down."

"Fewer abandoned warehouses this year than last year. If the economy keeps getting stronger, supervillains might have to start renting."

"Anyone-?" Why am I asking him? Ring?

Unable to detect anyone in the designated building.

"Computer doesn't think there's anyone else there, but that area doesn't have good coverage."

Right. Anything that suggests a resolution. I

step out

and appear at the warehouse, orange filaments flicking out as I upgrade the local camera network so Richard can follow me. Hopefully they only warded the edge of the property, because if I have to manually deactivate a bunch of wards my mood is only going to get worse.

"Orange Lantern to Robin."

"Area looks clear, Oh El. Ah, I know I said they don't leave traps, but they sometimes leave one big one."

I look around, searching for the glow of a sophont mind. "At this time of day the only thing to hit around here is me, and I'm pretty sure I can take a few gas canisters going up. Proceeding."

The chain and padlock on the gate look old, but the lock mechanism is new and well-oiled. They were unchaining it each time. The chain looks about as weathered as the surrounding metal and I'm not seeing an obvious cut point-.

Why am I doing this?

I cut the chains, construct armour appearing around me as I stride forward. Nothing worrying so far. Infrared? No. X-rays? Eh, the metal's too thick to get much that way. Sonics? Nothing of any significance. I reach the warehouse itself and then don my armour and phase through the metal.

Inside… Stripped warehouse. There's a bench with a couple of gas burners which appears to have been used as a makeshift kitchen. There's a plastic barrel part-filled with water and several discarded plates.

"Looks like you were right. People have been spending time here."

Drugs drugs drugs? Some amphetamines. No Smilex. And no Alice-clothing. And no traps. Ring, is there an office or-?

Oh great.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February
00:37 GMT -5

I disarm a couple of thermite mines as I look around what I assume to be 'Alice's' room. Crazy face-collages, crazy drawing and nonsense writing… A small and surprisingly fancy-. No, unsurprisingly fancy wardrobe, come on, this is a Gotham crazy.

"Robin, does any of this mean anything to you?"

"Running facial recognition now."

"I've already done that. And.. uploading. But I'm still not seeing any sort of pattern."

"That.. sort of thing usually takes a while to work out. People like this go crazy in their own unique ways. Or it could just be a decoy. Can you see anything else that might help us work out what they were doing?"

Ring?

Anomaly detected.

Strands of orange reach out and pull down… A Cernunnos statue, similar in style to the one I found in Hub City last year. Marvellous.

"You recognise-?"

"The 'Dark Faith', the crazy Intergang cult. Did anything about the gang look black to you?"

"Not to an unusual extent, but I can't say that I was looking particularly closely."

"Hey, what?"

Bullock sounds surprised, which-. Of course.

"Not 'black' as in 'humans with dark skin'. I see emotions as colours. Black is the death drive, self-annihilation. The last few people I've seen influenced by Intergang's new extremist group were marked by it."

"So were they gettin' mind controlled?"

"Maybe. I'll take a look. But this could just be a statue."

Looking at the statue itself… Nothing. Perhaps I should talk to Vincent Edge, see if he can get in contact with some of his old colleagues. Crime is one thing, but if everyone in the organisation is getting mind controlled or unnaturally mentally influenced then it wouldn't be a betrayal to inform on them. Considering what Intergang appears to be up to I'd be happy to agree to turn a blind eye to some other types of crime so long as they go straight after getting fixed.

"Nothing odd about the statue that I can see." I put it down. "I'll leave it for the scene of crime people. Moving to check the rest of the warehouse now."

"Understood, Oh El. I'll get the computer working on possible links between the people in the pictures."

I walk through a wall and head for a partitioned-off area of the warehouse. Hm. We can probably parse the potential Intergang connection as 'supervillain activity' and use it to justify an intrusive magic probe of the gang members. The Intergang investigation really.. hasn't gotten anywhere. Oh, low level criminals have been arrested but no lieutenants like The Key. Never even found out what his real name is.

I poke through the partition. They've rigged up what looks like a shower system. Not exactly fancy, but there's a suspended barrel and a shower head-. No obvious source of heat. And-. Clamps. This was for torture or interrogation, strapping people down and pouring water on them. Water boarding? Or.. just for leaving them cold and miserable? I can't see any recording equipment-. But phones suffice for that sort of thing these days.

Even if this is Intergang, I'm still not seeing a link between the different criminal groups. Kobra and Intergang might work together in places, but their ideologies are totally removed from one another. Regular-Kobra are heretical Hindus and Jeff-Kobra are messianic murderists, while regular-Intergang are organised criminals and 'Dark Faith' Intergang… Huh. I suppose there is a degree of ideological connection between the Kobra traditionalists and modern Intergang. It would make doctrinal sense for Kobra to encourage a pointlessly evil organisation in order to bring about the end of the age.

So.. there's.. that, but these were Kobra-wannabes. 'Self-radicalised' gang toughs looking for a high-sounding justification for things they were inclined to do anyway, and.. for allies. Opportunities. I'd have put them down as Jeffites without even.. thinking about it. Mister Gotham? Again, Kobra traditionalists are up for anything evil, but the man himself has been down there for a while. Feeding everyone to a life-eater might end up preventing the arrival of the new age… Is Kobra doctrine flexible enough to allow for that possibility? Probably not…

But that fact that they could conceivably be working together doesn't prove that they are. And none of this has anything to do with the Smilex.

"One shower, possibly intended for water-based interrogations."

"So they were planning on bringing the mayor there? Doesn't sound like they were planning on getting away."

"Do city mayors know anything especially sensitive?"

"Gotham's.. kind of a special case. The mayor knows a lot about all of our supervillains and their security arrangements. That.. could be the reason."

Blasted Arkham.

"Breaking someone out?"

"Or looking for their old equipment."

"You keep that? I mean, here? In Gotham?"

"Some of it. Not all of it gets seized when they're arrested. Criminals get their stuff back once their sentences end, and Arkham isn't a prison."

"Supervillain equipment is supposed to get confiscated more than normal property."

"The city keeps some of it in a police warehouse. Some of it gets sold to STAR Labs or WayneTech…"

"So we need to check there next."

"It's.. worth doing just in case, but what are we even looking for?"

"Smilex?"

"We aren't dumb enough to keep that around. The labs only handle tiny amounts to check whether or not he's changing the formula."

"Napier's records?"

"The originals all get destroyed, along with most of his 'gags'. The Joker's not really an inventor."

"The arsenal of dangerous supervillain weapons?"

"All partially disassembled when not being tested. Somebody could put them back together, but it wouldn't be quick. And… This isn't Metropolis. A lot of them aren't exactly world-shattering."

I nod.

"Alright. Since there's a potential Intergang connection, I'll visit and make sure that nothing they've got stored there is magic. Then… Then I'm going home. I don't think I've got much else to add this morning."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February
00:57 GMT -5

Ah, man.

It's like I've tripped and fallen into the sixties.

Naturally, any piece of supervillain paraphernalia that's simply a weapon has to be decommissioned. But now that they're actually doing their jobs the police have to be able to train new recruits on the sorts of things that the mad men, mad women and mad others who inhabit Gotham might use, and since they don't actually want to kill the rookies...

Novelty vehicles from brightly painted cars to parade floats and a couple of aircraft, example costumes and mundane devices with cunningly concealed secret compartments and enough ridiculous costumes to make Elton John have a heart attack.

"So… Like…" The night custodian looks like someone who thought that this job wasn't going to actually involve much actual work. "What are you actually looking for?"

"Honestly? An excuse to go home for the night." I take out a rune stone and walk towards the nearest pile of… Junk? No, the vehicles are still as roadworthy as they were when they were first built. Stuff. Yes, pile of stuff. The products of deranged but surprisingly functional minds. Unsurprisingly, the stone doesn't glow. "This is one of those things where you don't actually expect to find anything out, but you have to check anyway just in case."

"You want me to do anything?"

"Yes please." I use a construct filament to pass him a rune stone. "Hold that near each pile. If it glows, call me."

He takes it and looks at it wearily for a moment. "I need t'..? Rub it or something?"

"No, it comes pre-rubbed. It's not dangerous-" It turns out that the Elvis-Joker costume isn't actually magical. "-at all. Glowing is all that it can do."

"You're the boss." He runs it over the body of Mr Cobblepot's… Aviarymobile. "You know, people always wondered if Scarface was possessed. You know, like Chucky in the Child's Play."

"I don't think Chucky would tolerate someone's hand up his bottom."

Not that I've actually watched Child's Play. For all I know Chucky was into that.

"Batman has destroyed several iterations of the Scarface puppet. None have demonstrated any sort of otherworldly effect. And the magic systems which handle the transmigration of human souls are generally quite reliable."

"Transmawhat?"

"Transmigration. The process of what's left of you after your body shuts down going elsewhere."

"Oh, your soul going to Heaven."

"Or somewhere else. Honestly, at the moment I'd pick Purgatory over either."

"Over Heaven?"

"Dad is the gardener in my family. From what I saw of Heaven, you get either 'pastoral' or 'progress towards full unity with the Source'. I like the world, and Purgatory is the place most like the material world. Also, I know the guy who runs it."

"Conversations like this-" He lumbers over to a rack of Mr Cobblepot's gadget umbrellas. "-make me wish I hadn't skipped catechism class. I just know what you're saying is important, but it's all over my head."

"It's never too late to start worrying about your immortal soul." I frown at myself as I come to the end of a rack. "Until you die. Then it generally is."

"I like to think I've lived an okay life."

"Well…"

"What?"

"Okay, look, I've had an unproductive and frustrating evening, but… So that you don't end up with the default afterlife services provider rather than the one you actually want… As I understand it, it takes a little more than living an 'okay' life."

Another row of clothes, another disappointment. And not all of these people were insane!

"So, what, I gotta start going to church again?"

"Assuming that you want to go to Heaven..?"

"Well… Yeah?"

"You don't sound too sure, there."

"I didn't expect to hear a superhero talking up Purgatory."

"The fact that supernatural things exist doesn't mean that what popular mythology says about them is true. For example, Purgatory isn't where you go while you reflect on your vices on the way to Heaven. Vampires don't stop and count seeds if you throw them at them."

"How about garlic? And.. stakes?"

"The one vampire I've spoken to says that she doesn't like the smell of either the bulbs or the flowers, but she can soldier through it. Stakes through the heart wreck the blood magics which keep vampires functioning, but stakes through the heart generally kill humans too. As well, it isn't any easier to stake a vampire than it is a human, so any film you've seen of a human hitting a vampire in the chest and killing it? Probably not accurate. You either hit a rib, or it gets embedded in the muscle and doesn't punch through."

"Huh. Ah, nothing over here."

"Next pile, then. Honestly, with most vampires, a handgun is a better bet."

"I thought guns didn't work on vampires."

"Why wouldn't they? I mean, they're not as effective as they are against humans, but that's because vampires are tougher and heal faster, not because they're immune to bullets. If you shoot a vampire through the brain or the heart that'll stop it, even if it won't necessarily kill it."

"I guess… Yeah, it makes sense." He moves his rune stone around some sort of giant marble run. "I guess it's like you said: movies and whatever just don't show it how it is. So… Ah, going back to the whole 'Heaven' thing? How do you get in?"

"I'm not an expert. I was extradited there. But… The basic Christian ethos is well known. You know what you have to do to get into Heaven. You're not expected to be perfect, but you are expected to be trying to become a more moral man and ask for God's help when you fall short."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. It's not a secret. Getting into Heaven is simple but that doesn't mean that it's easy. Assuming that you want to."

"And you wanna go to Purgatory?"

"No, I'm going to Erebos. Erebos is perfect for me because I'll be able to stay in contact with the world, have a productive post-life existence and if I for some reason get bored of it I can opt for reincarnation without any of that Hindu karma levels business. For someone like me with no interest in reconciling with the Source, it's perfect."

He chuckles a little nervously.

"You get commission on that?"

"Not these days, though I imagine Lord Hades will shuffle me to the head of the queue when it finally happens."

I look out across the warehouse at all of the exhibits still to go, and inwardly sag.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February
01:26 GMT -5

Charlie the night custodian hands me back the rune stone and I return both of them to my equipment harness.

"Well, this has been fun."

"Charlie, if you think this has been fun-." I frown for a moment. "Then I'm glad we were able to do it, but you may want to consider the fact that most people would have found it boring."

"Yeah, I was just being polite." He shakes his head. "I've seen this stuff, like, every night for six years now. Waving a rock at it didn't make it more interesting."

"How'd you get a job like this?"

"Last place I worked at got burned down by Firefly, and the last guy who worked here got killed by Joker. They were having trouble hiring people, I needed the work…" He shrugs.

"Do you like it?"

"The stuff kinda freaked me out the first few nights, but after a while it just starts being background, you know?" I nod. "It's usually pretty quiet, too. I've only hit the panic alarm, like, twice? I mean, I know there's supposed to be less crime in Gotham these days, but I still assumed that it'd be more risk with it than this. At this rate, management are gunna dock my pay."

"I don't know. Getting an honest and reliable employee in Gotham is a valuable enough thing, even if you aren't getting assaulted by supervillains every day." I shrug. "If you like, I can put in a good word?"

"Nah, don't bother. Best for me if no one even remembers I exist. The less reason people have to come looking for me, the better."

"Ah. Okay. Thanks for your help." He nods politely and turns away. I raise my right hand to my head. "Orange Lantern to Robin."

"Hey Oh El. You done at the police impound?"

"Yes. Nothing magical, no attempted break ins, just piles of stuff that matches the inventory. What's going on in the city?"

"A lot of random acts of violence, but it's all pretty low level. Assaults, attempted break ins… The Commissioner thinks it's drug-related, but they won't finish the blood work until tomorrow."

"Could you do it?"

"I'm not a professional chemist, Oh El. And I don't have time to take blood samples from two hundred addicts at police stations all across the city."

And I.. could, but…

I try creating a construct syringe and… There's a faint glowy orange shape for a moment, but it dissipates almost at once.

"Looks like I'm out of investment."

"If you mean you need to recharge your rings-."

"No."

"If you need a rest you can take off. I can stay here until Batwoman-."

"Robin, what emotion catalyses my constructs?"

"Avarice. Oh. Has.. Gotham really ticked you off that much already?"

"I don't cope well with intractable problems. But yes, I am a little tired. I'll probably feel a bit more helpful tom-. This afternoon."

"So in the interest of Batman's threat evaluation..?"

"This doesn't weaken my defensive abilities at all. But I have to want someone hurt in order to hurt them. I have to want my world my way for me in order to make it that way. I'm not.. seeing this as the actions of a few bad eggs in a city which otherwise works. We joke about 'Gotham being Gotham', but on a night like this I struggle to see Gotham as anything other than a spent cost."

"That's.. pretty harsh."

"If I hadn't watched a planet burned from orbit a little while ago I'd probably feel differently." I shake my head. "Wake me if you need me-need me."

"Okay. See you later, I guess."

"Oh, ah… He didn't want me to say anything, but the custodian was pretty helpful. So if you hear about any similar jobs with better pay or conditions…"

"I shouldn't think he'd be interested. He's starting a pre-college course next month."

"What, like a 'back to school adult education' sort of thing?"

"Oh El? Charles Adelsen is a nineteen year old art and design student."

Scan.

"This place is fitted with wards, isn't it?"

"Everywhere is. It's a contract requirement. What's wrong?"

I march towards the exit. "The man I encountered wasn't nineteen, and he gave me a story about working here after Mister Lynns destroyed his last place of work."

"Got a picture?"

"Yes. Ring, send."

"Compliance."

He's gone. Alright, another git disrupting my mission. Ring, scan as best you can. Wraith, go and find them but do not possess them.

The pale orange shade wafts out of my ring and flies down the corridor ahead of me. Scan detects… Nothing out of the ordinary in my immediate environment, then… A small amount of dirt on the floor. Someone scraping their boots off? The dirt is slightly damp and the last few days have been dry… But sprinklers are a thing, so that doesn't mean anything. Soil chemistry… Could have come from nearly anywhere in this part of Gotham.

"Not getting any return from the facial recognition system. Did you check their security tag?"

"They were wearing one. It looked authentic."

"Empathic vision?"

"I didn't probe them too deeply. Looked normal enough."

Okay, I do have this building's plans. Where would be a good place to stuff a body?

"Did Mister Adelsen log in this evening?"

"Yeah, but it's just a card reader. Visual recognition gets done by the other guys who work there."

My spirits sink. "And they log out the same way, so if someone was quick they could kill them all and the system wouldn't register anything was wrong?"

"No, there's… Cameras-. No, the rest of the detail definitely left. I've got their cars leaving the lot on the traffic cameras."

"With them inside?"

"Confirmed shots on most of them."

"Alright then. So if it's not that, then whoever 'Charlie' was got in later. Heading towards the main entrance now, I'll be out of contact for twenty seconds or so."

I phase and fly through the wall towards the nearest exit.