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July 11th
Metropolis, United States of America

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Lex Luthor stared blankly out of the window of his office.

It had been half a year since Lex Luthor found himself in the mantle of another man. Undoubtedly, it didn't take long for Luthor to find his way to Metropolis and assume ownership of LexCorp. The different shareholders and managers squabbled and the company was soon to fall, making it an opportune moment for Luthor to take "back" control of the company. Since then, using his business knowledge from his own world, Lex Luthor had brought his company back from its momentarily chaotic state, and with some work, ensured at least an income for himself in this world.

In his office, Luthor read about the version of himself that inhabited this world- that is- the one he had appeared in. In this world, he was known as Alexei Luthorenko, and he was the son of Ukrainian migrants and committed suicide. Fortunately for this Luthor, the previous one's body was mysteriously never found. Luthor knew that none of this was correct. This world was wrong- a perversion of the comic books he knew and loved- and had already started on his plan of making everything as it should be, but not before learning everything he could about this new world. That is, learning what exactly was different.

The only question was where to go from there. He spun around in his chair before flicking on the television- and that's where Luthor's first divine message seemed to come from.

"MONDAY MONDAY MONDAY! SHOWDOWN OF THE RISING SUNS! CFM FACES OFF AGAINST THE RAW INVADERS AT THE ARENA COLISEO" an announcer excitedly announced. From there, he knew that he had to travel to Mexico...

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July 13th
Ciudad de México, Estados Unidos Mexicanos
@clanjos@Pleek

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...And it didn't take long. Using LexCorp funds, Lex Luthor booked himself a flight from Metropolis all the way to Mexico City, and using the connections Luthorenko had, managed to get himself a seat in in the Arena Coliseo. There, he sat patiently, watching for what he had come for. When darkness enveloped the room, Luthor waited patiently before it was revealed to the audience: the masked man. Bane.

The show was as amusing as Luthor could hope for. After all, back in his home dimension, Luthor was no stranger to sweaty men fighting in the ring. In fact, he had a pay-per-view fight on every night that had one at the comic book store he ran. The fights were clearly one-sided, though Luthor expected no less from Bane.

As the show went on, Luthor was greeted with much more carnage than he had first anticipated. Though this was okay- it gave him a much better scope of the situation until it finally concluded.

Lex Luthor appeared before Bane and Lord Death Man. "Gentlemen" he greeted, reaching into his suit for two business cards. "I believe that the three of us can do business with one another..."

---

October 28th
Queens, NY, United States of America
@DragonofTheWest

---

Following his Mexico trip, Lex Luthor found himself in New York. That is, he booked a flight to New York hoping to find a proper ally there. Petty crooks, thieves, and otherwise criminals... completely useless to him. He needed to find a super villain- one that he recognized.

Walking through the streets of New York, Lex Luthor stuck out, many people recognizing him. Of course, being New York, nobody really cared, more worried about going on their daily commutes. Then, out of nowhere, a woman screamed. A man had assaulted her. Lex Luthor immediately ran in the direction of the screaming. He may have been a super villain in this world, but where he came from, he was still an ordinary man Lex Luthor clotheslined the assailant, knocking him down and against the brick wall in front of him. Getting his bearings, the man ran, Lex Luthor quickly pursuing him.

During the chase, Lex Luthor took out his phone, immediately dialing 911. He knew the city's police was busy, but he wasn't going to let this one criminal get away while he was there to stop it. Eventually, through a maze of alleyways, the man grew tired, Lex Luthor in spite of his somewhat advanced age managed to keep up, knocking the guy back down. He turned him over, picking the criminal up by the scruff of his beard, looking menacingly at him but not speaking.

He would have waited for the cops to arrive- that is- until he heard a loud thump. Something else? Spousal abuse perhaps? Lex Luthor tossed the man onto the concrete floor, turning him around again to tie his hands to keep him restrained until the cops arrived. Meanwhile, Luthor moved to investigate the particularly loud smack. It was a boxing gym- so the sound may have just been a friendly fight. Nonetheless, Luthor entered the building to investigate, keeping an eye on the criminal through his periphery.

October 28th
Queens, NY, United States

It wasn't long before a roach-headed young man in a nice suit would drag the man who assaulted the woman into a dark alley. Say what you will about their fashion sense, but the Death Syndicate was keeping Manhattan and Harlem's street crime down. The retribution for drug sales, child abuse, and damage to the property of the people (as long as their protection was paid up) was swift and brutal. It was the Yakuza way, as Death Man saw it- they keep the streets clean, they protect those the officials won't, and in return they get money and respect.

In fact, it was thanks to the remarkable efficiency of these criminals that most of New York didn't even realize the zombie epidemic that plagued America was still going. After the police started to panic while failing to maintain civil order, the Yakuza stepped forward. A few of the enforcers were doing regular patrols, making short work of anything coming out of hospitals, graveyards, butcher's shops, secret underground snuff film sets... all the typical things you find in New York City. Of course, there was also a hotline. It was a pretty simple setup. People called them. They showed up. They beat the shit out of zombies, hacked them to pieces, incinerated, melted, or whatever metahuman abilities were on hand. Once the zombie was cut up or incapacitated, it would be tossed into one of several woodchippers. The chunks twitched now and again, but they weren't doing anything on the way to the incinerator. Brutal and efficient.

As he started feeding the mugger's limbs into the woodchipper, Greg Samson, the Roach-Boy of Brooklyn, couldn't help but think Death Man would be proud.

Bubba Blue was glad he had been able to finally whump the stupid bug man who had hurt his beloved Pa. That hit should have knocked his head plum off, though. It'd have turned anyone else's to jam...but not this mean ol' plant monster. He was standing right back up, even after flying through a tree, and not a little one, either!

Nobody had ever survived one of his whumps before, especially after he'd gotten angry. This was confusing. He didn't know how to deal with somebody that didn't stop moving when he whump'd them.

"Pa! What does I do when they keep movin' after ah whump em'?!" Bubba turned back to where Pa Buford still laid on the ground. He gurgled slightly, mumbling something incoherent. Whatever it was, though, the younger Masterson couldn't understand it! "Gosh durn it, Pa! I's glad yous alive, but--wuh?"

Twisting on his heel, Bubba's eyes grew wide when he saw the creature on a stump, holding that entire tree he had been whump'd into earlier in his big green arms! Before the last remaining Masterson could respond, however, the beast shot towards him and swung the massive trunk straight down like a club!

Bubba had never really given any thought to dodging. Nothing had been able to hurt him much this past year, and he'd always been bigger than most things. When the tree trunk slammed down on his skull, his malformed eyes crossed and he was driven to his knees. The great trunk cracked and split at the point of impact, and before he could completely lose consciousness he saw it break in half. Chuckling lightly to himself, he couldn't help grinning.

His head was harder than a tree. That made him happy.

He then slowly fell forward with an audible thud...and all within the forest of Hope Springs went silent.

Queens New York
October 28th

Steps

Someone approached. John turned towards the direction of the entrance as he narrowed his eyes peering through the brick walls of the gym as a man of middle age entered the building. "Hey Julian!" John called out as he stood up sizing the approaching figure up through the gyms walls "Were you expecting a visitor?"
"Visitor? huh? At this time nah... Hey didn't you lock the doors?" Julian answered back as he leaned backwards trying to conversate though the ongoing basketball game occupied his attention.
"I was about to." John lied. "Sit back, I'll deal with it" John leaned over to grab the 250lb pound back with one hand before casually throwing it into a corner as if it were made out of paper as he approached the entrance. John rarely closed the gym when intended unless he was for leaving for the day. Nobody got past him, this time wouldn't be different.

At Luthor would creep forward he would find John standing just several feet ahead of him, arms folded. The differences between them was immediately apparent with John at least a good 3 inches taller and 20 or so pounds of muscle heavier. The kryptonian stood wearing only sweatpants and a black top as if too purposely show off just how physically intimidating he was... whoever this person was, they were already looking outclassed "You lost?" John questioned upon making eye contact with Lex.

Harris watched Bubba as he collapsed to the ground, finally beaten. Harris stood finally, dropping the remains of the tree and sighing as he looked over the carnage.

The ones in the jeeps had gotten away, so there went his reputation as a cryptid, now everyone knew he was real, not that it really mattered, he was going to achieve full avatarhood in a little while anyway so he'd have a lot more to worry about than a few hillbillies knowing he was real, and hell, the whole planet would know he was real once he started working worldwide.

For now, he'd have to handle the unconscious hillbillies.

Now just to bring them into town, well, now that a great number of people knew he was real, what did a few more matter? Yeah, he supposed it was time to reveal himself.



Hope Springs was quiet that day, a few kids sitting on the sidewalks and smoking silently the only people here, well, except for those meth heads that had passed out as soon as Harris came into view, carrying every one of the hillbillies on his shoulders, not even using his hands, just using a few vines to secure them to his shoulders. The kids on the sidewalks looked up from their silent episodes of depression to see a giant bug man striding down the street.

Harris stopped and looked at the most pathetic looking one, clearly terrified about his future, and offered him a small smile and a flower, it was all he could do for the poor kid, who looked at him with a look of shock and wonder before he began to cry. Harris smiled at him and walked away, noticing an ever-growing crowd coming out of the wood-work to stare at him.

It was weird to be the center of attention for the first time ever, and a bit uncomfortable, but Harris could handle it. He dropped the hillbillies to the ground next to him and beckoned over the arriving police officers, pointing at the men as to demonstrate that they were criminals. Meanwhile, he noticed a small girl among the crowd. The girl broke from her mother and ran up, despite her mother's protests. Harris knelt next to her, she was adorable, precious even. Harris held up a finger for a moment as to stop her from moving and stop her mother from fretting. He closed his hand, and opened it to reveal a circular vine with flowers growing all over. He placed it atop her head and smiled at her delight.

This is what he wanted to do with his life.

It had been surprisingly quiet couple of nights, once the whole Mudo issue was handled. With the graveyards having fancy new concrete slabs to keep the restless dead resting, the hospitals already having decided on burning bodies and ground bones, the street cops had returned to their patrols of Gotham. Surprisingly, some even did it with renewed vigor as if the city wasn’t a cesspool of corruption.

Of course, actions had repercussions. Zoey was only surprised at how long they took.

Despite his efforts at claiming a small bit of the efforts that were put forth, Mayor Murphy’s ratings had taken a bit of a hit. It was no surprise after the danger that the city was put in over greed - greed so intense that even a career politician like him was overshadowed by it. To be fair, that cargo Zoey sank was pretty nice. Not that he’d know it was her, but to have his rating plummet on top of losing it? Let’s just say that the billionaire was looking over her shoulder.

Part of that may have been why she found herself driving this night. Usually Grim would already be on patrol, but aware of exactly what might be lurking? Well, Zoey may have been a little irrational wanting to make sure they didn’t come to her home, where both servants as well as her son slept. Besides, it was nice to just go out for a drive once in awhile, no thoughts of vigilantism on her mind. Quiet.

Turns out her bid was right. Driving along the highway in her snakeskin viper the road was almost deserted at the late hour, only the occasional car passing by. That’s what made the sudden appearance of two dark cars, light dimmed behind her all the more attention-grabbing. As soon as her steel-blue gaze caught sight of them in her rearview mirror Zoey’s slender fingers gripped the steering wheel all the tighter. She was tempted to just gun it and leave them in the dust, but another car of similar design getting on the on-ramp ahead of her and immediately positioning in front of her let her know they had accounted for that. Interesting. Not run of the mill thugs.

Of course, she wasn’t a run of the mill rich girl either.

As soon as the car in front of her braked, no doubt to get her to either do so as well or lose control, Zoey did gun it. The front of her viper, armored beyond what was expected for a mere civilian car, rammed into the back of the dark compact in front of her. It swerved from the sudden force, almost into the concrete barrier to their left but quickly adjusted. Of course when Zoey herself went to put more gas on one of the rear cars bumped into her tail, spinning the car.

For someone as into cars as her, Zoey had no problem adjusting into the pit. It helped that the Grimmobile was far harder to control with all the modifications to it. The third car, however, made the corrections moot as he rammed into the side of the snakeskin viper, slamming her car into the railing opposite the highway.

That probably scratched her paint. Asshole.

Flipping the car into reverse the powerful engine yanked itself away from the wall, and Zoey spun the wheel to get herself forward once more. The rubber of her tires squealed against the pavement as she took off, though didn’t quite gun it. The billionaire would rather not leave some hitmen to come after her another day.

Gunshots rang out, the redhead’s eyes taking in the marks on her back windshield. The bulletproof glass held up, as did the reinforced tires to keep them from popping. The three other cars had righted themselves however and were once more speeding after her. Flicking her gaze forward Zoey took note of the fact there were the red lights of more cars further up ahead. If she kept going straight she’d end up putting civilians in danger.

Ugh, vigilante ethics. Why couldn’t she just mount a flamethrower on all her cars, anyway? Stupid laws.

Putting on an abrupt burst of speed the snakeskin viper took a swerving right, entering the on-ramp to go across the approaching bridge. Connecting to Bludhaven. Great. With a roll of her eyes Zoey kept the speed on, just enough to stay ahead of the trio of cars without losing them. Bullets rang off the metal and glass of her car but she wasn’t too bothered.

The chase ran the length of the bridge, right into Bludhaven’s gates. What a wretched hive of scum and villainy, not that it was saying much considering that Zoey just came from Gotham. However, the good part of this was that there weren’t many cars being driven in Bludhaven, especially this late at night. Gangbangers more than likely, not to mention sky high crime rates meant cars left alone were more likely to be taken apart or jacked than driven. It was easy to lead her pursuers on a merry chase, right to a more abandoned part of town. Less people to be hurt.

Abruptly slamming on the brakes and spinning the wheel the viper turned in a burning circle, and with the trio of cars right on her tail -

CRASH.

Yep, there we go. She was probably going to have a seat belt shaped bruise in the morning, but it meant little. The other car’s windshield was cracked, and the man hanging out the window shooting had been thrown. Safety first, kids.

Another slam against the back of her car made Zoey aware that it was now pinned between the two. Faster reaction times than she expected. A thoughtful hum vibrated through the car as Zoey glanced into her rear view once more. One of the cars had pinned her, the other pulling up alongside. Two men in the latter emerged, the driver going to circle to her own side. Both holding guns - and the two men behind her doing similar.

Zoey shrugged, and reached in her glove department. She had fought worse odds.

Her assailants, for their part, were downright impetuous; the Old Caernarvon Docklands in Bludhaven had been without power for decades, so there wasn’t a single light on the damned street, save for what reflected off the Avalon River from uptown. That was good, these kinds of things were a lot better done in the dark, especially when the locals knew better than to poke their heads into your business.

Hell, the boss-man might even crack ‘em a bonus for dumping her corpse in this shithole... After they had some fun of course- Had to pay her back for giving them such a hard time.

...That train of thought abruptly derailed as something whipped through the air and slammed into the jaw of the assassin approaching Zoey’s door with a loud, metallic PING!, spraying blood and teeth all over her window as he staggered to the side.

“What the fu-?!” One of the two at the rear began to exclaim but was abruptly cut off as something loud and clearly very angry plowed into the back of his knees, crunching them against the pavement and sending him tumbling face-first into the back-bumper of the car in front of him before it roughly snatched the knife from his belt and used it to stab the man next to him in the back of the leg, then the arm, then at least half a dozen times in the balls before turning back to him and planting the damned thing right underneath his collar-bone on the right and then grabbing his head and slamming it right back into the bumper of the car again.

The goon to Zoey’s right quickly spun around, gun at the ready to deal with... whatever the hell was going on right now, but the damned thing rolled out of the way of his shots and ran up the other side of his original target’s car, barreling down on the man still picking himself back up after being hit in the face with an airborne piece of pipe.

How did he know it was a pipe? Because the figure rushing towards him abruptly picked it back up again and showed it to him. Up close. Straight to the bridge of the nose. And then again to the other side of the jaw for good measure.

He didn’t get back up this time.

For a moment, Zoey could only take in the carnage that surrounded her car in mild surprise. The motions were quick, the screams blood curdling, the actions violent, but none of it directed to her surprisingly. Actually, she was pretty sure that was one person doing this. A small person, agile and ruthless.

Interesting.

The figure was outside her driver’s side window, and with little fear Zoey unlocked her door to open. Sliding out of the seat the redhead stood, a glint of steel in her hand. When the thug on the other side of the car whirled around to them on hearing the crack of his companion’s bone breaking, the billionaire merely glanced behind her.

With the reflexes and precision honed over years of vigilante work, one of the throwing knives she retrieved from her glove compartment went sailing, catching the man by the hand holding the gun. It dropped, firing off a round that pinged against her poor car’s paint job once more. The second flick of her wrist had another lodging into his throat, blood spurting out in great gushes - also across her window. Her staff wasn’t going to be happy cleaning this mess up.

Turning her gaze forward once more Zoey went to take in her ‘savior’, a thoughtful hum once more bubbling in her throat as she lowered her hand, two throwing knives left, to her side passively.

”Fancy footwork.”

Kasimir’s ‘savior’, for his part, had simply stood there, hunched over and having pulled down the dirty rag that covered his face to suck in as much air into his tiny lungs as he possibly could… until she plunked a knife into the other guy’s throat with all the effort it took the average person to breathe. That gave him pause; freezing him there, eyes opening wide beneath his goggles (revealing a dim orange light beneath) as he suddenly realized he’d made a sliiiiight error in judgement here.

Just because he could see the woman in the car earlier didn’t mean he was actually paying enough attention to her to pick up the all the knives she had stuffed up her sleeve.

...That she still had stuffed up her sleeve.

’Weeeeell, shit…’

Gulping slightly and dancing his fingers across his lead pipe, the small figure, which began to look suspiciously more and more like a child the more he stood there, took a pensive step back and spoke-

“Yeah, well… it’s… a lot easier when they’re not paying attention…” The raggedly-clad figured finally responded, now sounding suspiciously like a child too, before pausing a second time and pointing towards the woman’s sleeve “...You just... carry those around with you?”

Perfectly sculpted red eyebrows drew together, a pensive expression coming over the redhead the longer she looked at this small figure. His goggles glowed, something her own did - tech? No, it was something … else.

Then he spoke, and Zoey’s eyes widened the slightest bit. What she had initially been ready to pass off as a short person who had come to her rescue, the billionaire quickly realized her error. Between his size, his voice, his mannerisms made it very obvious. This was a child.

… A child who just murdered at least two people, possibly three if the wet gurgle of the man at his feet was any indication.

Forcing a slight smile to her lips, Zoey merely nodded to his question. She didn’t have to look at her sleeve to know it was still pulled down to her wrist, should be concealing her weapons. With all the magic - her eyebrow twitched - in the world today, could he see them? Did he merely presume there were more after her previous actions?

”You were still quite good.” A flick of her wrist had one of the blades ready, held between two fingers. She tossed it up and caught it by the bladed portion, holding it towards her young savior to show him - handle first, to not be threatening. ”As for these, only when I’m being chased by hitmen.” A slight quirk of her lips, a bit more of a smile at her joke. Zoey wasn’t … the best around children. Too jaded. Yet this one seemed just as blood soaked as her, and not just from these men.

”So what does my savior go by?”

Hesitantly, and with no small amount of care, the boy gently plucked the offered knife from the woman’s fingers as she spoke, looking it over and deftly spinning it between his fingers a few times with the skill his enhanced dexterity allowed him, though when she asked his name, he stopped. Casting a weary glance down to the man at his feet and watching as his heart slowly wound down to a stop.

”...Malcolm.” The boy stated after a moment’s hesitation, once he was sure they were the only ones around to hear, and handed the redhead back her knife, handle-out ”Though, uhh… people around here have started calling me ‘Watchdog’ for some reason… probably because of the whole ‘glowy eye’ thing and all.”

He let a little chuckle out at that, and scratched the back of his head, slightly more at ease.

”...Speakin’ of, the hell are you doin’ in Blud, anyway?” The boy inquired with a tilt of his head ”You and your... friends... are pretty clearly not from around here.”

So it was his eyes that glowed. Which reasonably meant he was possibly seeing under her sleeve. Zoey mentally catalogued that as she took her knife back, replacing it under the sleeve of her button up shirt. That of course led to wondering what else he could do, if it was a metagene or living here that had him able to take on the others.

Brave, either way.

”Gotham.” Zoey offered in way of explanation for where she was from, before continuing on smoothly. ”Ran into some trouble on the highway. I thought this place would be abandoned of any bystanders, but … well, I suppose you aren’t really a bystander, are you, Malcolm? Watchdog.” Another smile, polite.

”My name is Zoey Kasimir.” A pause this time, thoughtful silence as the billionaire attempted to find the correct phrasing for her next question. ”I hate to pry, but I must ask … your parents…?” She trailed off, not wanting to presume. It was Bludhaven, after all.

Malcolm’s lip, visibly bruised and cut slightly from a fight earlier in the night, slowly turned downward in a frown at the redhead’s question, tongue running across the teeth in his closed mouth as he tried to piece together an eloquent way to explain that rather... touchy subject.

Breathing in, clearing his throat and slowly removing his goggles (only seemed fair, she wasn’t wearing a mask, after all), he cast his glowing eyes slightly off to the side as he answered.

”Well, my mother tossed me into a dumpster pretty much as soon as she had me, so she never really mattered.” He began, a particularly bitter note to his voice, before pausing and visibly shrinking slightly ”As for my Old Man? Well, he mattered… but he’s gone now.”

For a brief second, the lad cast his eyes downward. There was a slight sniffle, a slight shake of his head and finally an affirmative grunt as he visibly forced something he very clearly didn’t want to feel or think about from bubbling to the surface.

...He wasn’t particularly good at it, mind you, as his eyes teared up slightly, but he held some semblance of his composure together, keeping it at just that instead of bawling his eyes out like a kid his age probably should.

”Sorry about that; Ya didn’t get chased all the way from Gotham just to hear my sob-story.” Malcolm finally apologized after a minute, awkwardly wiping his eyes and coughing into his fist to find his voice ”...First time I’ve actually talked to someone in... a while, so I’m a little shitty at it.”

‘A while’ here meaning ‘Since February’, of course. But Zoey didn’t need to know that.

It was honestly more information than she was expecting, too. At first the billionaire was examining his eyes, taking in his state of dress. It didn’t surprise her that he was an orphan, just like David before she had taken him in. With how rocky the climate towards those with metagenes, not to mention the rise in vigilantism, his glowing eyes probably did little to help him either.

Then there was the sniffle. Zoey’s posture straightened up as soon as she heard it, staring down at him with soft eyes. The redhead would be the first to admit she was awfully protective, of those she loved mostly, but children as well. It was the reason she had taken David in, when he just wouldn’t quit trying to help the people of Gotham.

Now here was a boy with no future, no options, alone.

”It’s alright,” The billionaire finally said, voice surprisingly gentle considering the death they were surrounded by. It wasn’t hard to determine that he had no one, not a foster family or anything, if he hadn’t talked to people in awhile. That wasn’t hard to figure out. ”You haven’t slept in awhile, have you?” Zoey reached up, tapping just underneath her own eye.

”Makeup.” She added on, as explanation for how it was so easy to tell. Her own eyes had the marks of sleepless nights, of hours spent denying the basic human function. However her steel-blue gaze lingered on his own glowing orange one, contemplating. She couldn’t seriously be considering this, could she? It took so much effort to convince herself to even let David in, but then again maybe her son’s presence on her life is what made this decision so much easier.

Maybe it was the blood and bruises on Malcolm. Maybe it was how small he was. Either way, she needed to know more first.

”What’s your metagene, Malcolm?” The billionaire finally asked, gesturing to his eyes.

”My what?” Malcolm inquired with a raised brow, clearly puzzled by this new word, but catching on when Zoey pointed towards his eyes ”Oh, well, I uhh… I can see… pretty much everything.”

The boy paused for minute as he racked his brain for a better way of phrasing that, biting his lip in thought before continuing.

”I can see through walls, I can see heat… I can even see sound and the power running from both your phones’ batteries.” He added with a small shrug and a scratch of his head ”Hell, I can even read you some of the license plates from your side of the bridge- I literally saw you coming from miles away.”

That was … concerning. Amazing, but concerning. Zoey couldn’t help but hum thoughtfully, her eyebrows furrowing. If he accepted her offer he would know who she was immediately, able to see through walls as he could. The giant lab beneath the castle wasn’t exactly something to be glanced over.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t just leave him when she had the ability to help - plus from the roughed up way he looked, it seemed his sight only helped him somewhat. He could use training, if he was going to do this - as much as Zoey was reluctant to encourage another person to take up this line of work.

”And when you saw it you stepped in, because you could,” The billionaire finally said thoughtfully, taking a step closer. She kneeled down, examining his face - his eyes. He could use with some cleaning up too, it was a wonder he didn’t have an infection from how filthy he was with what was no doubt a myriad of nicks. ”I’d like to return the help you gave me, if you’ll let me. My son was like you once, alone on the streets and just wanting to help others.”

The small one’s head tilted to the side slightly at that.

”Ok… what exactly did you have in mind, Miss Kasimir?”

A grin lit up Zoey’s face at not being outright denied, and she abruptly withdrew one of her phones - the one with a wolf’s head icon stamped into the metal case. Her thumb flicked across the screen.

”There’s no one around except you and me, right Malcolm?” She questioned, glancing to the boy.

”Nope. Just you, me and a colony a dockrats that’re probably gonna be eating these dead guys later.” Malcolm responded with a raised brow and after a quick glance around.

”Great. So, to your earlier question - a place to sleep, clean up, maybe some training from the crazy lady with knives.” Zoey stood once more, leaving Malcolm to retrieve her two throwing knives from the rapidly cooling body of the man on the other side of her viper before returning to stand before Malcolm. ”I don’t really enjoy the thought of someone as young as you running around the streets doing what you’re doing, I’d in fact prefer you didn’t, but I admit that some people can’t help the call. My son’s the same way. So am I.” The billionaire glanced back towards Gotham, eyes to the sky.

”It’s the least I could do.” The smog above Bludhaven parted, the distance between it and Gotham traversed in an instant with the powerful magitech engine installed in the Grim Jet. Another jab of Zoey’s thumb against her phone and the aircraft lowered, hovering before settling on an adequately empty space nearby. The black metal hull was half hidden in the darkness of the area, but the slightest gleam of light caught off the silver engraving of the wolf’s head on the edge. ”... One vigilante to another.”

For his part, Malcolm just stood there, mouth agape and eyes frozen in a comical expression as the massive, flying hunk of metal set itself down on the roadway not far from them. Eyes glued to the silver wolf’s-head insignia engraved on the side, his brain slowly connecting the dots and realizing just who he’d really been talking to this entire time.

”...Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He finally managed, his head turning slowly back towards Zoey ”You’re kidding, right?”

Of all the ways he’d thought his day was going to pan out; riding with freaking Grim in a big goddamn jet honestly hadn’t occurred to him.

”Language.”

Coast City, Northgate park

Rebekah is exhausted.

The day seemed normal to start; the park was full of joggers and young children playing. Rebekah had already gone toe to toe with the local double dutch club, she had played against Mr. Hamas at the chess tables and lost like always I swear that man is cheating, and had helped a few tourists find their way around the park to the best hotdog stand in the city. She was on her third Chicago dog when her radio blared to life.

"ATTENTION ALL UNITS: THERE ARE REPORTS OF SEVERAL DISTURBANCES ACROSS THE CITY, CODE 245. EMERGENCY ALERT LEVEL DELTA

Rebekah nearly choked on her hot dog. She jumped up from the bench she was seated at, scanning the area for any signs of danger. Grabbing her radio from her belt, she reports in to the HQ.
"This is Officer Hall, What kind of disturbance should we expect?" *FZZZT* "Well, shit."

Rebekah regretted not changing the batteries on her radio, but when the hell was she supposed to find the time for that? She looked out at the park, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. "Let's see, small children playing hopscotch, a few college kids having a Frisbee tourney, a large group of stumbling drunks-oh wait that isn't normal for a Wednesday" Rebekah strides quickly over towards the group, but stops short a few feet away as one breaks away from the group and makes a beeline for her. "hey now, can we maybe not start a brawl at like, lunchtime? Please?" She ducks as the man charges, hitting him with her baton as he passes. She steps back, hoping this guy will get the hint and move on but the man just turns and charges again. she aims her baton at his kneecaps on his next pass, hoping to stall him. She backs up and sprints to the Frisbee group. "Okay guys, sorry to interrupt your game but we have a bit of a situation, can you gentlemen help me get everyone in the park to Gus' diner and LOCK THE DOORS okay thanks!"
Beka gives the guys a thumbs up as she takes off running towards the north end of the park, making sure to try and bait the shambling group into following. If only she could find a change of clothes....

”Well, it’s less impressive than the Grim Grotto, but here’s the Castle’s ‘civilian’ garage. Well, my garage anyway - the staff have their own garage around the side.” The purr of the snakeskin green Viper’s engine filled the cavernous garage as it rolled into the room, the automatic door slowly sliding shut behind it. Lights lit up above them, highlighting not only an array of tools along the back, and a lift, but a number of cars. Most were expensive, more money than an average person would make in their entire life. Not to mention in much better shape than the dinged up Viper.

”You’ve probably seen at least glances of it already anyway, but here’s the official welcome.” The car came to a stop just before the lift, Zoey parking it before turning the engine off. She slid out of the driver’s side, sighing again seeing the slight dent in the metal.

”Most of them are mine, but the yellow camaro over there belongs to David - you’ll meet him later tonight. In the meantime, let me start by showing you how to buff out the smaller dents.”

After the events of last night - namely being chased by hitmen to Bludhaven and then picking up a deadly stray - Zoey had loaded the Viper up into the Grim Jet before returning to Kasimir Castle. It was just a little bit ago that she had washed the blood and gore off the Viper after a small tour to her new guest of the Grim Grotto, ending up bringing the car through the off-passage of the labs to return through the actual gates of the castle.

Tours seemed a little silly for the kid that could see through walls, but Zoey couldn’t help but follow the well-bred manners.

Malcolm, who had remained mostly silent for the whole tour, partly in childlike amazement at what he was seeing and partly from the enormous effort it took to (poorly) hide his giddy joy at actually being in a car, chose about that time to pipe up as he extricated himself from the expensive ride.

”To be frank, Zo, before this morning I lived in an abandoned subway tunnel and ate garbage.” The boy replied with a slight shrug as his eyes wandered every which way across the woman’s labyrinthine home, the look of astoundment he’d been wearing all day still very much plastered on his face ”So I don’t think you actually own anything that could be called ‘less impressive’ to my eyes right now.”

Smirking a little at that, but fidgeting in slight discomfort for a moment at the feel of the fancy shirt he’d been wearing all day, he continued.

”Alright, so… how do we start?”



No matter what she tried to do in order to distract herself, it just wouldn’t stop nagging at the back of Karen’s mind.

He was still down there, that Bang guy. She had tricked him into removing his hazmat suit and then dragged him down into the ocean where he…dissolved? She didn’t want to think of it like that. He had told her that he wouldn’t die, just be disabled. She needed to believe he was correct on that notion, and she needed to find a way to save him.

Disgusting pervert that he was, he didn’t deserve to be stuck like that for any longer than necessary. It was for that reason she had asked for Zoey’s help in building a better hazmat suit for him...one that didn’t leave him leaking radiation everywhere.

Feeling her feet touch the metal of the Grim Grotto’s hangar, Karen was eager to see what progress the other heroine had made.

“Zoey!” Karen called out, glancing about the cavernous hangar. When she didn’t receive the expected response, she quirked a brow. Stepping further in, the Wizardess carefully surveyed the area for any sign of the redhead.

Sadly, there was no sign of Grim. What she did find, however, made her heart skip a beat. It was a pool of blood on the ground. The first thought to enter her head was that it was, in fact, Zoey’s. That alone was enough to cause her heart to start pounding in fright, and she quickly began moving deeper into the Grim Grotto.

“ZOEY!” She screamed, now far louder.

Still no response. Pursing her lips firmly, Lady Arcana lifted off the ground and in a burst of speed fled from the hangar to observe the great castle from above. Her keen eyes - surpassing even the finest hawk - scanned the area until they were able to at last locate their target.

She was fiddling with her cars.

Feeling her shoulders sag in relief, Lady Arcana sighed. Flying back into the hangar, she opted to send a text message to Zoey.

’Zoey, I’m in the hangar.’

There, simple and to the point.



A buzzing quickly caught Zoey’s attention, or more specifically the vibration against her hip. That, after all, was far more noticeable considering the loud bangs that were echoing in her ears from observing Malcolm straightening out the dented metal bumper of her Viper, hung up against a post.

The billionaire’s slim fingers plucked her phone from her pocket to check the message, a slight smile gracing her lips seeing the sender. A bit inconvenient timing, but she was always happy to help Lady Arcana. She was probably coming to check in on the project she had asked for. After a moment however steel-blue eyes flicked to the young boy at her side, and the redhead made a thoughtful hum. Finally, she sent a text in response.

’Be right there. Bringing someone.’

”Malcolm. Slight change of plans - I have a guest waiting for me.” She nodded downward, towards the labs where the young boy could no doubt see. ”Come along, I’ll introduce you.”

”Huh?” Malcolm’s head perked up Zoey’s words, giving her a quizzical look for a sec, before his eyes followed hers down to the floor. ”...Oh.”

There was a long moment as he simply stared downward in silence, to his credit, only slightly slackjawed at what exactly he saw in Zoey’s basement.

’Is that who I think it i-’

”You have got to be shitting me.”

”Language.”



It didn’t take long to lock up the garage once more and venture through the castle to the wine cellar - really, this was a fine entrance when it was just her, but Zoey really needed to make a new one if David and now Malcolm were going to be using it. From there the billionaire once more almost absently went through doing the correct sequence of pulling out wine bottles to get into the secret passage that led downward.

”Lady Arcana,” Zoey called out in greeting as she entered the last door. As soon as she entered her private labs some of that tension that always seemed present in the billionaire bled away, and she offered the heroine a warm smile. Though… the blonde seemed a little stressed.

”... Is something wrong?”

Lady Arcana exhaled upon seeing Zoey up close and confirming that she was alright. Indeed, she appeared no worse for wear than usual. So that begged the question of what was up with the blood.

Her eyes immediately fell to the small child beside her, growing wide in the process. Was it his blood? Had he been hurt, and Zoey brought him here? He did look pretty rough, in all honesty, so that seemed like the most likely outcome.

”I...I was just worried when I saw the blood,” she confessed, her eyes remaining on the boy. He looked younger than her by at least a couple of years. She offered him a warm smile. ”Hey there, I’m Lady Arcana. It’s nice to meet you!”

’Holy shit, she’s actually talking to me.’ Malcolm managed to articulate in his head through the raucous internal screaming that echoed through the entirety of his brain as he kept his eyes much averted from the woman in front of him. ’It’s only the most powerful being on the face of the planet. Don’t look like an idiot, don’t look like an idiot, don’t-’

”Eh?”

’DAMMIT!’

Mentally slapping himself to get his shit together, the boy actually managed to turn his glowing orange peepers towards Arcana and form his face into some awkward shape that somewhat resembled a smile.

Jesus Christ she was a lot taller than what he’d thought from those newspapers he’d used for bedding.

Prettier, but taller.

And literally filled with lightening.

’Aww, fuck me…’

”I’m Malcolm and, uhh… likewise.” The boy finally spoke, somehow managing to sound coherent in defiance of his own brain.

Meeting Grim, the mythic bane of Gotham’s crime was one thing. Meeting the closest known thing the world had to an actual God less than a day after that was a little bit over his threshold for crazy.

A slight grin tugged at the corner of Zoey’s smile seeing Malcolm’s awkwardness at meeting Lady Arcana. She managed to choke down the chuckle that wanted to build up in her chest, merely nodding in approval that the small boy managed to introduce himself. Could use some polishing, but his manners were there.

”Don’t worry, the blood isn’t mine,” The billionaire finally said, drawing her gaze back to Lady Arcana. She dipped her head slightly in apology. ”I washed it off my car - my Viper, not the Grimmobile. Ran into some trouble last night.” That pleased expression quickly changed to a grimace as Zoey recalled the reason for the blood, the hitmen - or more accurately who had most likely sent them. It left a sour taste in her mouth, but she quickly forced a smile back in place.

”Malcolm assisted me when Zoey Kasimir was targeted for assassination.”

Lady Arcana blinked for a moment, her head slanting to the side. He...assisted her? This little kid? Then again, he did have some pretty funky looking eyes, so maybe he wasn’t a normal kid. Probably had one of those metagenes, since she didn’t feel any magic coming off of him.

”...Wait. Targeted Zoey Kasimir?! They were after the real you?” her jaw dropped at this, wondering why on Earth a bunch of hitmen would be after her civilian identity.

”Mhm,” Zoey gave a short nod in response, deciding now wasn’t the time to discuss if Grim wasn’t the real her as well. ”I appear to have angered someone.” The billionaire couldn’t hide how her tone darkened, how her pale fingers at her side flexed in a slight itch to have the protective sparking of her glove. She knew exactly who would’ve sent those men. After all, her word against his if past events were taken up wasn’t much in a court, but in the land of politics? It would smear his efforts, not to mention her own recent actions overshadowing him.

Shaking her head to clear the dark thoughts clouding her mind Zoey focused back in on Lady Arcana.

“Pulled up alongside me when I was driving on the highway. I led them to Bludhaven rather than further into traffic. When I got somewhere quiet I was going to fight back, but well, Malcolm saw I was in trouble and…” Zoey shrugged, casting an appraising glance to the boy at her side. ”Assisted me. You know how people like us can’t help but step in when we can.”

Malcolm scratched the back of his head and shyly cast his eyes slightly to the side as Zoey’s own moved towards him.

”My dad was a Marine, he taught me how to look after myself.” The boy explained somewhat sheepishly, eyes finding a particularly interesting spot on the wall (and everything behind it) to look as he spoke ”...And with all of them focused on a bright green sports car in the dark, at night, it was pretty easy for me to get the drop on them.”

He made a point of leaving out the part about how he outright ripped through and killed three men in the span of a few seconds. That probably wouldn’t fly too well with the living thunderbolt in front of him, who, if the newspapers he used as blankets over the past year were to be believed, did not particularly appreciate that kind of thing.

Seemed like a good call in his mind. And even if it wasn’t he was kind of locked in it now.

Karen noted how well-spoken he was for someone his age. She honestly couldn’t have carried on a conversation that well yet a few years ago. In fact, she only got to where she was now because of having to be the Wizard. It kind of made you grow up pretty quickly, when you had to constantly act all mature.

”Well, I’m glad neither of you were hurt,” she continued to smile gently, eying the pair over once more. Was Zoey thinking of adopting him or something? Maybe she was afraid to hand him over to the police because of his…condition.

Wait.

”If neither of you were hurt, why is there so much blood?” Lady Arcana quirked a brow at this, once more craning her head in the direction of the mess on the metal floor.

All at once Zoey’s features carefully schooled themselves to a neutral mask, hiding the wince that wanted to emerge. Having known Lady Arcana for over half a year now, Zoey was well aware of how she would feel about whose blood that was. Still, she had resolved to never lie to her…

Malcolm, for his part, simply stiffened and paled slightly at Arcana’s question, keeping his eyes focussed on that one piece of wall with like his life depended on it.

”I… uh…” He licked his lips nervously, trying to find some way to explain away that particular landmine ”...I’m very good at taking care of myself.”

Zoey’s hand landed on Malcolm’s shoulder, squeezing very gently. She still didn’t know how well he reacted to physical touch considering he was on the streets before, and they only had a few hours getting to know each other, but nonetheless she tried to give comfort to him.

”It’s alright, Malcolm,” The billionaire said in a soft, but firm voice. After a moment Zoey lifted her head to meet Karen’s gaze, steel-blue to brown. Her face was still neutral, voice even. ”Arcana…” She regretted not being able to say Karen’s name currently, her real name, but none the less carried on. She stood by not lying to her despite knowing her friend would be very, very unhappy with her.

”The blood belongs to the men who attacked me. They’re dead, due to my actions.”

Lady Arcana had suspected as much when Malcolm explained that he was very good at taking care of himself, but he was so young that it was hard to imagine that he could have really done such a thing. But Zoey had confirmed it, and so now it was beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Her smile was gone, her eyes darting between the two of them before settling back on Zoey. ”...How did it happen?”

Zoey took a deep breath, exhaling heavily through her nose. The lack of smile, of the usual affection in Lady Arcana’s gaze made it plain she was unhappy. She’d be even more so when she heard the rest. Her gaze briefly traveled down to Malcolm, seeing how uncomfortable the boy was. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. Besides, it was Zoey’s actions that caused this, by leading the men to Bludhaven in the first place.

”...Malcolm, why don’t you go explore the castle for a bit?” The billionaire finally said, squeezing his shoulder once more before withdrawing her slender fingers. ”Lady Arcana and I need to have a talk.” She offered him a slight smile, forced though it was.

Zoey’s hand didn’t get far in its retreat from Malcolm’s shoulder, as without looking, the boy’s hand quickly, though gently caught it mid-flight as his eyes shifted from their allotted space on the wall to the floor before him, before slowly, wearily making their way upwards to meet Arcana’s own.

Jack Talhaiarn didn’t raise a liar. Nor a weasel who couldn’t accept his own actions.

”Two died running Zoey off the road. Died in the crash.” The boy began, he’d be proud of only slightly squeezing the woman’s hand as he spoke, if he had the mind to even register it. ”When they went for her car, I… whipped a pipe at one of their heads to distract ‘em, ran into another and took ‘im out at the knees, stole that guy’s knife and used it on his friend before finishing him off.”

Wetting his lips, taking a breath and squeezing just a little tighter now, he continued.

”Then I rushed the third guy, picked up my pipe again and went to town on his face.” He swallowed hard, both at what he was saying and what was coming next ”They were dead before Zo got outta the car.”

Finally releasing Zoey’s hand, the boy cast his eyes downward again, avoiding Arcana’s once more.

”I’ve been fighting people like this… day and night. Non-stop. For almost a year now... I just stopped thinking about it after a while.”

Lady Arcana’s frown deepened, but her expression simultaneously grew soft as the boy ended his explanation. She...understood what it was like to grow up in a horrible environment. That was one thing she understood better than anything else. She didn’t know what exactly Malcolm had gone through, but it was clearly something horrible.

Stepping towards him, she slowly knelt down and extended a hand to his shoulder. ”I never blamed you, Malcolm. After everything you’ve been through, nobody ever stepped forward to show you a better way.”

Zoey could only stare down at the two, once more flexing her fingers slowly, now absent of any weight. She hadn’t protested when the young boy had taken her hand, letting him squeeze it - even gently doing so in return to give him comfort. She wasn’t good with children, with people in general, but even she knew that gesture. The billionaire didn’t even interrupt his talking, letting him explain what happened. Maybe it would be therapeutic.

Her heart ached when he squeezed her hand again. When his gaze dropped. Zoey had no fear of Karen losing her temper at a little boy, not when he was so vulnerable. Her faith was rewarded when the heroine knelt before Malcolm, comforted him…

Maybe that’s what she was supposed to do, too? He had withdrawn his hand, but he was just a little boy. Smaller than even Karen’s real form. The memory flitted through her mind of him last night, wiping away those tears when she hadn’t offered more than a word of comfort.

Zoey was so in over her head. At least David was already a teenager when she took him in.

Stepping close to the boy the redhead’s arms reached out, gently wrapping around the boy’s shoulders to awkwardly hug him to her. Zoey’s hand rubbed against his back gently, comfortingly, remembering when her own father would do it when she was upset.

”It’s alright, Malcolm. Everything’s alright. I’m not innocent of taking a life last night, either, but you didn’t know better.” Her steel-blue gaze flicked to Karen briefly from where she was looking down at Malcolm’s head, this time not hiding her grimace before she quietly confessed. ”... After all, I killed the last of them. It’s not your fault.”

For a moment, Malcolm froze stock still at the now-foreign though distantly familiar sensation of a hug. His composure, that had remained stubbornly steadfast throughout this whole ordeal, silently beginning to crack.

’No, Malcolm. Don’t you dare.’

A shiver ran up his spine, and a burning licked at the corner of his eyes.

’Don’t. You. FUCKING. DARE.’

The boy’s teeth clenched with the effort of forcing down the emotion that threatened to spill out of him at any moment and his arms wrapped around Zoey’s waist, slowly and wearily at first, before clamping down with as much strength as his tiny body could muster.

And after minute or so more of war within the boy’s own head, something occurred that had not happened in a long time-

Silently, without noise or fanfare, Malcolm finally allowed himself to cry.

Karen wanted to say that she held Zoey responsible for her actions, and she did...but now was not the time. Not when her Malcolm was breaking down in tears against her. He wasn’t that much younger than her, and had even killed people...yet right now he just seemed so much smaller than she ever had been. Even when her dad had beaten her, she didn’t think she’d ever felt as broken as he clearly was.

Gotham truly was an awful place to grow up in.

Slowly standing again, Lady Arcana shot Zoey a firm glare before softening her expression as it turned to Malcolm. ”It’s alright. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore now that you’re with us.”

”You’re safe here,” Zoey added on quietly. Her gaze traveled up to Arcana, having caught the glare. She gave a short nod of acknowledgement - they would be talking later. However then she returned to looking down at the short dark hair of the boy she had taken in. She could feel her shirt getting wet with tears but she didn’t raise a single noise of protest.

A hum built up in the redhead’s throat, soothing and soft. Zoey didn’t have many memories of her mother, just a constant hum that followed her through every room she went. That’s what the billionaire often did, it having become instinctual, and what she was doing now.

”And you don’t have to fight as long as you’re here, I promise you that.”

---

October 28th
Queens, NY, United States of America
@DragonofTheWest

---

The bald man peered around the gym and shrugged, looking up to the man who had appeared to be a little less than half a head taller than he was. The man apparently picked the boxing bag and tossed it around, meaning that either the bag wasn't sufficiently heavy for the boxers to box with, or he was showing off how strong he was. Luthor, not in the mood to really smirk, still having to deal with the criminal behind him, brushed it off as simple posturing.

"Oh" he stumbled, catching his breath. At this point, Lex Luthor had not actually seen the Superman of this world outside of his uniform, and in the way he presented himself didn't seem very Superman-like. Of course, this was the genius of the disguise. Lex Luthor had just been chasing a man while wearing a suit, the dress shirt underneath showing a good deal of sweat with wet patches underneath his arms and over his forehead. All in all, he looked like a mess.

"There was a woman who was assaulted just down the street from here, I was chasing the man who assaulted her" Luthor explained, presenting the gym patrons with the man, his arms tied with Luthor's belt. "I already called 911, so you don't have to worry about anything..."

The scatterbrained old-man personality was showing, not something very characteristic of the Lex Luthor he knew. "I heard a noise from in here and thought something was going on. I didn't realize you were a boxing gym" he excused himself.

Jessie stared at the projected image on the otherwise blank wall, watching the live news feed intently as confusion mounted in her city. Not just Coast City, but every major population center. Corpses rising from the morgues, the funeral homes, cemeteries, and all starting to roam the streets. It didn't make any sense! What possible scientific explanation could there be for walking corpses?! A virus seemed unlikely what with how widespread the outbreak was, and reports were starting to trickle in from other nations too so it likely wasn't some kind of attack. A metahuman maybe? Someone who could control the dead? But how could they do it with this many, and so widespread? As much as Jessie hated to entertain the possibility, this concept of 'magic' that had been floating around since Lady Arcana had shown up almost made sense... But if magic truly was real, there had to be a way to quantify it. But for that, she'd need samples.

Throwing on her cloak and grabbing her hoverboard, Jessie sent out a text message to Echo and Vox; "Bagging zombie bits, be back soon!" before settling her goggles over her face and rushing out the door. The board clicked satisfyingly into place on her boots and the girl was off like a rocket, streaking above the well-kept lawns and streets of the rich suburb before arcing higher and beelining for her old neighborhood: The Block and Northgate Park.



A few moments of flying later, and Jessie's goal was in sight. Reaching up to tap the side of her goggles, the inventor grinned as the displays lit up and her vision turned green. She knew the lenses of her goggles were now emitting an obscuring green light, making her face harder to identify, and with her eye-tracking software she could control the telescopic zoom for her teleporting, as well as aspects of her hoverboard. Jessie could see the green stretch of grass and trees, the conspicuous wound in the otherwise uniform layout of streets and buildings. This would be the spot. Large gatherings of people, nearby hospital and cemetery, and lots of shambling space. And speaking of shambling, Lightning Bug could see a few of them now, trying to chase down some tourists!

Swooping down out of the air, Lightning Bug activated the repulsor mode on her board, essentially sending into an autopilot so she could focus on the half-dozen corpses stumbling their way towards fresh meat. She cracked her knuckles and grinned at the popping of electrical sparks that flew from her hands as she did so. A sharp whistle, and a few rotting heads turned in her direction. "Come on now, that doesn't seem fair at all!" She taunted, motioning towards the fleeing tourists. "I mean they wouldn't stand a chance, with their fanny packs and sun visors! Why don't you go after a real challenge, huh?" She said with a grin before turning her outstretched fingers in the direction of the group of zombies.

In an adrenaline-filled instant, time seemed to slow for Lightning Bug. She could feel the air at her fingertips warm as electricity arced between her fingers. A near-invisible streak of ionized air shot from her hands, slicing through the air towards the zombies. Milliseconds later, electricity bursting from her exposed fingertips, arcing and leaping through the ionized path and striking the zombies head on. Enough of a charge to fry whatever was left of their brains, most likely. And yet, the group seemed mostly unfazed... Apart from some charred flesh and smoking hair, the group of undead seemed... Well, undead. And were now advancing on the girl.

"Hm... Well, that could have gone better." Lightning Bug said, backing her board up as she plotted her next move...

”I don’t think Mr. Harris really thought this through...”

Josh scratched at the back of his head, ruffling the onyx black hair as he stared at the door before him. Which was smaller than him. By at least a foot, not even including his horns. How was he supposed to fit in there...?

Well, no use just standing there trying to figure it out! Mr. Harris had sent Josh to get groceries, and he was going to get groceries! It was a simple task his mentor had set for him, and he wasn’t going to disappoint him! Hunching his shoulders forward and ducking down Josh carefully moved through the door – only to stumble when his broad shoulders bumped the top of the doorframe. He tripped forward, having to use his hands to catch himself, but quickly scrambled up.

On the right side of the door, too!

”Score!” Josh cheered to himself, absolutely beaming to the open air. There was a scream. Demon’s glowing white eyes blinked before he focused on a set of people to his left – a teenage boy manning the checkout lane of the market, and a woman being checked out. Both cowering. The boy looked around his age, too.

”Oh, uh, hey. Don’t worry! I’m not here to cause any trouble! I just need to pick up some things! ....And, uh, sorry about not... you know, wearing shoes either. I can’t find any that fit me...” The nearly nine foot tall demonic youth trailed off, but seeing as his words weren’t exactly comforting to the pair he just shrugged. It was a little hurtful, but at least they hadn’t called him a demon! Taking the win where he could, Josh picked up a nearby hand basket and ventured into the little supermarket.

”Okay, let’s see... Some bread, some non-perishables... Oh nice, I totally want a pepsi! I haven’t had one in months! I wonder if we could get a fridge out there... Oh! Beef jerky, don’t need a fridge for that. Aw man, why is it so expensive? I don’t have enough for that...” Lamenting his purchase choices Josh stared down at his little basket, wondering what he could put back. He didn’t have much on him, and Mr. Harris had only given him a little more – his mentor didn’t need to eat, which was super cool, but Josh did.

”... Oh.” Something caught his eye near the produce, and wandering away from the beef jerky Josh looked down at the little green display. ”Huh.” Plant food. Did Mr. Harris eat plant food? ... Would he like to? It’d be rude not to bring him something back! Even if it was a little pricey...

The pepsi put back in its proper place and the plant food now in his basket Josh finally approached the front. Setting his things on the tiny conveyor belt he stood there, patiently waiting for someone to check him out. Actually, it was taking awhile... Why was no one here? He didn’t frighten them that badly, did he? Craning his head around the tall man glanced around – which is how he caught sight of the flashing red and blue lights outside.

... Oh.

Deflating and his shoulders sagging Josh continued to wait, until eventually a set of officers came inside. Surprisingly, they didn’t have their weapons drawn – though the one on the left did have his hand on it. The other approached, an older man who kept his distance but looked up at him.

”Hi, officer...” Josh offered weakly, raising a hand to wave. The man frowned, watching him carefully. The look made Josh fidget, which made him nervous, which made him start speaking rapidly – it was a really bad habit. ”I’m not here to cause trouble, I uh, I told the cashier that, but I guess he got scared – I just want to buy some things! I can’t, like, not look like this, but I need to get some supplies – I promise I’m not going to hurt anyone! I was even careful coming in so I didn’t break anything!” Frustration began coloring his words, emphasized by the prickling the demonic youth felt at the back of his eyes. Oh no.

A sniffle broke loose, and Josh quickly raised an arm the size of a tree trunk to rub at his eyes. He just wanted to buy something!

“... Err, how long have you been like this, son?” The voice made Demon look up, whimpering as he focused on the officer. They seemed confused.

”Uhm... since December...? Yeah, December! I was excited about getting out of school for Christmas!” That just seemed to make the two men further perplexed.

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen, sir.” Josh took his gaze from the officers to once again rub at his face. He was such a crybaby. The two men started talking to each other in whispers, before finally a decision was made.

“Alright, son, we’re going to get someone to check you out, but then you have to leave, alright?” The words made Demon’s long, navy-skinned ears perk up and he looked to them, quickly nodding eagerly.

”Y-yeah! That’s okay! I’ll leave right after! Thank you!”

That’s how Josh ended up being checked out by the poor store manager, the man trembling slightly but getting through the transaction with the two officers watching closely. The tall youth politely paid – the man whimpered when he handed Josh his change back into a hand that dwarfed his head – and thanked him. Taking the little plastic bag the teenager beamed brightly to the officers and gave them a nod before going to the door. Once again it took some manoeuvring but he managed to get outside, without denting anything either!

Aww, not cool. There was a crowd outside. People drew back in fear but Josh was used to that. He just ducked his head and started toward the forest, like he promised. The two officers watched him carefully as he went.

... And then Josh was promptly distracted.

”... I could get some money that way.” Brightening, the demon darted off towards the city’s dump. People threw away bottles and cans all the time! He could totally recycle them for some change! Mr. Harris was going to be so proud.

---

Okay, it didn’t quite work out the way he wanted. Actually, it turned out a lot better than it usually did for him! The officers had followed him to, well, basically tell him off for not leaving, but the ... foreman? Was that the word? Josh didn’t know, but the guy in charge saw how he – accidentally! - crushed a beat up old car moving it to the side in his venturing and offered him thirty bucks to crush some things for him – once he heard from the officers where Josh had come from. Turns out his dump’s compactor was on the fritz.

Josh was always happy to help, like a hero should, but thirty bucks on top of it?! Score!

The man was really nice, too, on top of being brave. He put his bag of groceries in the little office while he worked and told the officers it was fine. They had left him alone.

Now a couple hours later Josh had money in his pocket, and he smelled awful. He’d have to ask Mr. Harris to make him new plant-pants and a shirt again.

... Speaking of which, was that him?

”H-Hey! Mr. Harris!” There was a crowd of people on Josh’s venture home, drawing his attention. Usually it was him drawing the crowds. And there was his mentor, near the police station, those same poor harrassed duo of officers looking at the men that had been deposited to them.

And there was a little girl, looking up at the Vine Stalker the same way Josh was pretty sure he did often. Well, his mentor was pretty cool. He was a real hero, after all!

Wait, why did Mr. Harris bring some men to the Police Department?

”... Aww, I missed helping!”

"Right, here you go!" Karen offered a pair of plastic cups to a couple of older students dressed as Walter and Skyler White. Filled with green punch, it was her assigned job to offer drinks and food to all the other students here at the school Halloween Party. It was an event open to students of every grade, so you'd think one of the teachers could fill her role tonight, but...

...No. She honestly wanted to say that it was strange that she would be asked to do this before any of the faculty, but as the only Hispanic student in an otherwise snow white private school, she really couldn't claim to have been too surprised when the event coordinator had asked her to fill the role.

He had apparently thought he was doing something really nice for her too.

Still, it isn't like she had anything better to do here. She had simply went dressed as a Hogwarts student...a little in-joke that only she would get. And hey, maybe if she kept smiling and being friendly, the other students would actually warm up to her a bit. Dare she hope for the possibility of actually making a new friend?!

Heh.

Well, at least she got all the free punch and snacks she wanted, so long as she kept everyone else filled up. Plus, a front row seat to whoever ended up winning best costume of the party! She really cared so much about that! But this was all the price of being too damn soft to ever tell anyone "no". Clarissa always told her that it was her fatal flaw. Given all the gross fanart she'd been coerced into to looking at, the other teen might've been onto something there.

...Was it wrong that she was secretly hoping that Samantha would call her with some emergency?

October 29th
Amnesty Bay, Maine
7:49pm

Girard looked out over Amnesty Bay from on top of one of the couple tallest buildings surveying the streets for any unnatural movement on the pavement. It had been only a matter of time before the Mudos would end up making an appearance apparently as it moved up the coast from South America city to city. He had been keeping tabs on how quickly reports of them popped up and where the past couple of days in preparation should they show up because by the sound of it they were absurdly hard to put down and it was right around his area of expertise to deal with. The dead presented a major threat when attacking en-mass so he would just have to exercise some of his strength to wipe out as many in as short of time possible hopefully before they got anywhere near civilians or police officers alike. This was what he did after all now and he sure as shit wouldn't back down with a possible threat at home in the cards so for now he waited and watched moving from roof to roof as needed to get better vantage points on the graveyard or other possible places his enemies could pop up.

The big man's patience was rewarded not long after as he began to see the slow shambling mass rumble towards the main road downtown where some measures had been set up to fortify the place on very short notice. It was far from pretty but it would buy some time if the Mudos pushed up to them which was all he could have hoped for on their part but it was good to see some measures were taken. A certain foreman may or may not have pushed for such a thing alongside a growing and nervous community in agreement so it ended up getting done with help from whoever was available and willing which was a decent amount. For his part as protector they would just have to trust him, he was an illegal vigilante after all but the police seemed to appreciate his help even if they didn't make it known publicly, but it was a role as well as standard he had no intention of breaking anytime soon for they're sake as much as his.

In a few hops the helmeted figure was right over the incoming path of the restless dead getting a last moment or two of mental preparation before hopping down to literally bust some heads among other bits if it was necessary to bring them down. Despite them being walking corpses he found it a kind of distasteful thing to severely mangle the Mudos but if it made everything safer it was a price he was willing to pay and it wasn't nearly as bad as an accidental on a living person, he was so glad to have gotten control of his powers early but he wasn't perfect and he never let himself think otherwise. With a step he descended down to street level cracking the sidewalk on impact a bit before walking out to the center of the road to face off towards the angry looking horde. The big guy didn't like the look of it from this perspective though in actuality they were harmless to him but it wasn't any less disturbing to look at all the stumbling bodies tirelessly trudging forward. Beyond the first moment of hesitation as he decided on how best to make a disaster zone of zombies, Tank reared up and charged at full gallop putting some of his super strength to work turning the large man into a battering ram in a hurry just short of tearing up the ground as he moved.

The glorious sight of hundreds of Mudos going flying/getting crushed underfoot with a muffled roar coming from underneath the helmet of Girard's was the result making one massive racket in the process. He stopped himself after a few seconds after getting into the grouping deciding to deliver some punches that would have been suited for fighting tanks to project more of the zombies into the larger clusters like bowling balls into pins. In the next moment he began jumping back and forth all through the crowd to crush and grind the undead into the asphalt while covering as much ground as he could trying to be time efficient with his family and friends at stake. This is how he figured he could clear out a majority of them and so far it was working stunningly as the dead became fewer in number allowing him to basically just start picking off the stragglers with powerful strikes that were practically disintegrating to make sure they stayed down without much trace of them left intact. In the end once the rest of the hostile corpses were dead he took a moment to breathe as finally all of the craziness was over and the city could go back to being a mostly safe place in more normal circumstances.

Tank had to admit one thing tonight for sure, he was beginning more and more to see why Zoey hated magic so much. Things were difficult enough normally without shit like this ruining a perfectly good evening in his city but at least everyone was fine from what he could tell as some officers came out to see if it was really all over.

"All done. Triple checked it just in case." Girard said turning his head to speak to the law enforcers, "I know you might not be too fond of me or my antics sometimes but its my city too. Gotta keep it as good as we can one way or the other so have a good night and get some rest so we can all keep up with the trouble for tomorrow."

October 28th
Queens, New York
@Descartes

"How noble" John replied, his tone rather unenthusiastic as his gaze remained focused on Luthor. While Luthor was dressed well in a suit, his heavy breathing indicated that such a rescue required a good amount of effort. John on the other hand wasn't sweating at all despite being in the middle of a relatively intense workout. While regular humans often worked out to increase their strength, John simply worked out to practice discipline and controlling his physical attributes. The Kryptonian decided to break eye contact only so he can once more take another "look" outside the gym. As he peered through the walls he could hear the faint sounds of sirens closing in on the distance indicating that regardless of what happened earlier, that this man was telling the truth.

"Well mister, you got some balls, I'll give you that." John added on as his eyes returned to the man before him. "You should be careful though," John warned "These streets are dangerous now a days. Trying to play hero could have gotten you killed and my buddy over there woulda been watching the news of your demise" John leaned his head to the side with a quick nod to indicate that Julian, the gym owner did not even bother to come out from his office.

Coast City, Northgate Park, sometime during lunch

Rebekah tears through the bushes, hoping to distract the now less shambling masses for just a few more minutes. Crouching in a small ring of bushes, she tries to catch her breath. She had found a small kid who had earlier been playing with his mother, and was able to stop long enough to trade half her bag of gummy worms for the Ninja Turtle mask he was wearing. She had no idea which one it was, not that it mattered much. She thought maybe the turtle with the red mask was the leader? It was almost too small to fit her anyway. She made sure the boy went to his mother and got out of the way before the shuffling sound grew near. "Not the best option, but a girls gotta do something", Beka chuckles darkly. "At least if I can hide my face I have slightly less of a chance of getting recognized. I can't run forever and why the hell should I?"

Peeking out to scan the surroundings one more time she begins to fiddle with the buttons on her uniform shirt, Fumbling a bit as she tries to remove it without stretching too far out of the shrub she had dove into. "One day i'm just gonna start stashing go bags all over the dang city, swear to god..." Beka grins as she is finally freed from the confines of the stuffy pressed shirt, and proceeds to tear off her white undershirt as well, leaving her in her uniform pants (likely to get ruined anyway) and the black sports bra she was wearing. She discards them both, making sure her belt and all its attachments are still secure. She pulls on the too small mask as she hears a sharp whistle and a taunt from a short distance away. Someone else is fighting back? I had better try to help Stepping from the shrubbery, Rebekah stretches out her arms and looses the wings from her shoulders.

Guess it's time to play hero

Rebekah shoves a few gummy worms in her mouth and lifts off.

Marvin sat in the soft computer chair when he heard the thud of something against the walls of his warehouse; part of him wanted to activate the warehouse’s defenses--but something else told him that would be excessive. Maybe it was just those kids again; some of those knuckleheads never learn! Marvin wanted to go check, but he couldn’t expose himself to the denizens of Marcy, even if everyone knew who the Man in the Warehouse was now. He could use his present predicament to his advantage somehow, but Marvin was unsure how as of yet. He wasn’t in fighting shape, and though his body was repairing itself at an astronomical rate, the aches and the frequent jolts of unanimous pain throughout his entire being made each step agony.

All Marvin knew now is that yet another person or being had found where he lay his head, but at this point it didn’t matter. It was time to plot. If his enemies wanted to flank him, he would let them think they had the advantage… except, he couldn’t plan for something he couldn’t see. The phone continued ringing and Marvin picked up,

“Marvin Hayes? Forensics officer Felix Martinez. NYPD. We have something you need to see. Translator at the lab said it was German.” some seconds later, a blue loading screen fizzled onto the massive monitor in front of him. When the loading was complete, it read, Kinderfressen! With one click of his mouse, the video feed was freeze framed, cropped, and saved to the cloud storage of his personal network system. Marvin’s eyelids tipped closed and lifted open in rapid succession, he tried to muster a reply to the forensics officer but it was less than true English and more gibberish.

A gunshot. Marvin’s eyes flushed open. It never ended! He had given his all, but the shootings, the muggings, the greed, the murder, the selfishness, it never ended. Beleaguered, Marvin dragged his hapless unmasked head toward the lower third floor window and stared out at the sound as its hollow rang dissipated into the mouth of the night’s howling winds. Even if he was healthy, he was too tired. Tonight, he would sleep--someone else could handle it tonight. Little did Marvin know, someone else was handling it.

October 30th, 11:00 p.m.

Marvin had just awaken. The 70’’ television displayed the news,

”Jennifer Greene with Channel 52 News. Yet another child has gone missing from Brooklyn’s Marcy Housing Projects. Last night, 15 year old Teon Hollins disappeared from his home. Residents say they heard nothing suspicious in the lowrises last night. We spoke with the victim’s mother this morning. Here is what she had to say,”

Pan. A hefty black woman wearing a long flower print gown, pink rollers, and black house slippers to match stood in front of a rounded microphone and she was surrounded by family members and other dishevelled looking residents of the neighborhood. On her cocoa skin there is worry slit into the lines of a weary face. Dried tears decorate the sides of her smooth cheeks. An older man’s hand rests on her shoulder, consoling her as she fights through another wave of tears--he grips tighter the more frustrated she becomes as if to relax her.

“I-I just don’t know! I don’t know, I do--who done took my baby from me? Why they took him from me?! MONSTER!” she had nearly begun to cry again, her consoler--another black man who appeared no more than 40, sporting a bushy mustache, bald head, a white tanktop and some pajamas--tightened his grip and she composed herself

“All our babies is missin’ and nobody care! Who next? Huh? Who next! Ain’t nobody gonna nothin’? Why we gotta suffer? Y’know--it jus’--” her thoughts appeared to escape her, someone in the background filled the lull,

“I know tha’s right!” an Afro puff laced black woman erected from the back,
“Don’t make no damn sense I tell’ya’at.” a grandfatherly gentlemen added. The camera was still focused on the woman of the hour, Teon’s mother and she spoke again after she had once more gathered herself,

“And, you know--where that ‘Tiger’ at, huh? He supposed to be some type’a ‘hero’ or somethin’, but far as I seen he ain’ done nothin’!”

“Yeah!” someone else added from the back,
“Ain’t none of em no good.” went another,

The camera swayed up to the reporter on scene, Jenny Wong, who re-directed the segment back to Jennifer at the station.

Marvin cut the TV off. He had done something, something rather idiotic in truth. He had sent every kid he could round up within a mile of the projects to Gotham City. Outlandish? Yes. Foolhardy? Yes. And evidently his plan was not as foolproof as he thought, kids were still disappearing. Marvin played his hand too early, and from the looks of the deal, he had lost. At least now he had a lead; “Kinderfressen.” German. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had--and like with everything else, Marvin would unveil its shroud.

”I wonder if it’s a good idea for Super Fish to swim to us through this guy’s … body? Then again there’s not a myriad of dead fish in the area so I suppose it’s not that concentrated. Perhaps a two headed fish will be born in the future.” The low rumbling of a deep, modulated voice couldn’t help but muse aloud as Grim waited patiently, sitting on the nose of her hovering jet with her legs crossed. It was a rather feminine way of sitting, which was quickly corrected on realizing it. She was getting too comfortable.

A few feet beneath the hovering aircraft the waves of the Atlantic Ocean rolled gently - as gently as it could for the large body of water, anyway. There was nothing but blue in every direction, the occasional bird overhead with their annoying squalls. No human for miles but the two women waiting, and the disembodied… ‘man’ beneath them. Which was, of course, their reason for being there. Behind Grim, resting over the back of her pilot’s chair in the open cockpit, was the newly completed radiation suit. The testing for it was just finished that morning.

It had taken a little over a week, which was honestly surprising that Zoey had gotten it done that quickly considering the other events going on in the Castle. First bringing a little boy into her home, then being bombarded by literally hundreds of others. It was a good distraction to work on, considering.

”... Do you think it’d be inappropriate to ask if he’s part fish?”

Lady Arcana’s eyes shifted slightly to the masked woman, her arms folded beneath her chest as she hovered in midair. ”Something tells me he might get just a little bit upset.”

”He might even ask if you’re part dog,” She noted.

”I have been called a bitch on occasion.”

Lady Arcana smiled. ”I know.”

She had called Orin ahead of time, telling him where she wanted to meet and what she needed from him. Hopefully, with all the technology and magic at the disposal of his Kingdom, he would be able to think up some way of retrieving the now impossibly massive body of Bang the nuclear fuckboy.

”There’s no telling how far he’s been spread out by this point, I just remember this being where I dunked him originally,” she explained with a light huff.

King Orin piloted a skimmer under the water’s surface, sparing a glance at the various filtration systems his people had loaded onto the shuttle before taking off. It had taken a bit longer than he’d hoped to arrive at the otherwise unremarkable spot in the Atlantic, but as he approached the dashboard of the skimmer lit up with sensory readings, confirming a high level of background radiation. This was certainly the spot. Pulling up on the helm, Orin felt the pressure shift as the craft rose, breaking the surface a moment later. Pressing a button to open the top hatch, Orin climbed out of the skimmer and looked up at the hovering jet and floating Wizard.

”Apologies for being late, I had to track down some of this equipment.”

Lady Arcana’s face brightened slightly upon seeing the submersible break the ocean surface, quickly raising her hand to wave to the King...only to remember herself and grant him a proper curtsy in respect.

”Hello, King Orin! Really, thank you so much for coming out here! I really couldn’t think of any way to get him out,” she explained, a hand moving to scratch the back of her hood.

”A pleasure to see you again, King Orin,” From her position sitting on the jet Grim politely bowed her head, bending just slightly at the waist in respect for the man’s position. Still couldn’t remember what monicker his ‘hero’ name was, though. Aquarius? Ocean Pal? Sea Man? Eh, safer to just go with his title.

”I hope you’ve been doing well since July.”

Orin returned the motions towards the pair of heroes that had called him here, bowing slightly before heading towards the rear of his craft to open the back hatch and start getting the equipment out. ”I suppose I have been, Grim. No more giant sentient jellyfish intent on wiping out my civilization, so that’s a plus.” He said with a chuckle before sparing a glance towards Lady Arcana. ”Though I must say, it’s slightly concerning to hear that there’s a radioactive cloud-man that’s been drowning here for the past week. I’m not a big fan of ocean dumping in general, and nuclear radiation is among the worst kinds of dumping, as far as I’m concerned. However, what kind of steward of the seas would I be if I didn’t help clear the waters?” He said with a small smile as he began to pull out folded nets and bolts of nanotech cloth.

”I’d appreciate if the two of you could keep this under wraps for now, I’m not quite ready to show Atlantean tech off to the world at large. But essentially, these nets are controlled by the skimmer here, and will be instructed to seek out radioactive waste and collect it, essentially herding it back to a set point. Once here, I can instruct the nets and the currents to sort of… Squeeze it back together enough that you two can work your own magic.”

That caught Grim’s interest, the hero leaning slightly forward to examine what she could see of the materials King Orin had produced. ”Interesting. What are they made of to detect and collect such small molecules? Do they have a range? What’s the technology your craft uses to direct them?” She asked with interest, voice once more rumbling through the mask. Couldn’t help herself, really, in the face of new technology.

Lady Arcana quickly floated closer to Grim, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder as she began to grill King Orin with questions. Leaning in close, she whispered, ”Nerd. He wants to keep it to himself for now, he just said.”

Grim bristled. ”I am not the world at large and I am not a nerd!”

Orin chuckled and shook his head as he tossed the nets into the water, watching them unfold and start to slowly sink. He turned back to Grim and smiled, shaking his head. ”Atlantis has a series of communication nodes embedded throughout the ocean floor we use for communication and direction of technology like this. So there’s really no range to it no, I could theoretically send these things around the planet to come back here. As for what they’re made of, I unfortunately don’t know the specifics. My scientists developed them, and I only got the most basic of rundowns. I know the base structure is built on a carbon nanofiber mesh, and I think it may use some integrated magic to detect and draw in impurities. Now if you’ll excuse me for just a moment...” He said before clambering back down into the cockpit of the skimmer, setting the nets to detect and collect the invading radioactive energy.

Climbing back out of the ship again, Orin nodded to Lady Arcana and Grim. ”Right, it should be set up to go.”

Grim merely bowed her head at the explanation having finished, a grin lighting up her features - hidden by the mask. ”I’d love to examine one, Lady Arcana has told me how advanced your civilization is. Ah, let me get my part,” Flashing the other heroine a smug look at having been trusted with the information, once again regretting that her mask covered it up, the Gotham Hero finally rose up to climb back into her own craft.

Retrieving the bright white suit lined in metallic grey Grim emerged quickly, once more standing confidently at the nose of her jet as she tossed it to Arcana. ”One completed radiation suit, no leaking - guaranteed. You can fit lover boy into it, not all of us are immune to radiation.”

Lady Arcana caught the suit with a broad grin, happy to have the weight of this pervert’s fate off her conscience at last. Holding both it and the helmet in her hands, she stared down at the ocean patiently as the net filtered Bang from the incalculable tons of water beneath them. After several minutes had passed, she easily slid into the high tech hazmat suit, her form obscured completely by it upon pulling the helmet down over her head.

This wasn’t for her protection, of course. She just needed to free her hands for the next stage: the actual retrieval. Drifting down to wear the nets had descended, she grasped the end and began to pull it to the surface. She was certain the vehicle Orin was in could’ve done so as well, but she wanted to be the first thing Bang saw.

Just in case he was angry.

Checkmate

Goddammit he lost again, he sucked at this.

But he was also really good at this. How did this even work? He put the big piece in the black square and hit it with the horse, that was how you won right? His other self seemed displeased enough.

Oh, sensation, that was weird, he’d become so used to the feeling of the waves pulling his body around, but this was something different, something actually touching him. It had been weeks since he’d felt that!

Bang re-entered reality from his self-created happy place and examined his surroundings. Water. Yep, seemed about right. The net was weird though. He scanned his surroundings once more, but he could see nothing in the dark abyss of water except for the quickly closing sheet of light that was the surface.

And a… hazmat suit? It was pulling him up from the water, rescuing him. Had one of his split personalities broken off and gotten into a suit? As he could only see it from below, he was unable to see through the visor and spot the face underneath, so he quickly assumed that he was rescuing himself… somehow, made sense, he was the only person he knew who was caring enough to do such a thing.

”Welcome back!” Lady Arcana exclaimed as she yanked the rapidly retracting net from beneath the waves, quickly releasing her grip on it. It immediately started falling back towards the water, but she figured that Bang would just float like he had before in order to avoid taking another dunk. It would be pretty annoying to have to fish him out again.

Placing her hands on the helmet, she casually removed the headgear - it hadn’t been properly secured - before sliding back out of the suit, holding the two pieces in her hands. ”I’m really sorry about what happened before, but I didn’t know of any other way to keep you from hurting people. You were leaking radiation everywhere and were a danger wherever you went.”

”But that’s why I had this made, just for you!” Lady Arcana held up to the suit with a slight smile. She wasn’t going to toss it to him, though. Not yet. Not until she made sure he wasn’t going to just turn around and attack her in rage. ”It will let you use your powers, but only when you want to! You’ll no longer accidentally melt people just by being near them.”

At least, that's what Zoey had told her.

Bang smiled as he was pulled out of the water, but that all-encompassing smile quickly faded as he heard the voice coming from within the suit. That… that female voice, it was familiar… it made him… angry.

The net dropped away around him as Bang floated up into the air, frowning intensely as a large electrical storm went off in the cloud of energy that made up his body. Then she took off the helmet, and a wave of pure fury ran over him as the electrical storm transformed into a cacophony of small popping explosions.

But… she apologized, and Bang felt the wave of rage weaken, not entirely, but he felt calmer in some small way, well, maybe calm was the wrong word, more “Confused”. She phrased it like what she had done to him was a necessity, something that had to be done. This only made Bang angrier, was it necessary for her to trick him? To lead him on? The bitch!

He barely heard the next words out of her mouth as his mind became clouded with rage-fueled white noise, but she said something about the suit in her hands being made for him and him alone. Perhaps… there was a bit of truth in her flirting. Yeah! That was it, she was… so intimidated by his dashing good looks that she had to get him out of her vicinity! But now...

Wait, he shouldn’t come on too strong, that’s what got her to do this in the first place, the suit was cool as hell, but he couldn’t just jump at her offer, nah, that was crazy talk.

Bang would have crossed his arms had he a pair, and he turned and dismissively looked off into the distance.

”Well, I guess I’d oughta thank you, but that don’t mean I’m just gonna hop into that there suit. After what you did to me before, pard’n me for bein’ a little… cautiousitory,” he said in the most venom filled tone he could muster.
“You’re still a…”

He struggled to call her names again, knowing now the depths of her love for him. With a hidden sigh, he said the word, each letter burning on the cloud that had taken on the role of tongue.

”Bitch.”

Beneath the black goggles a perfectly sculpted red eyebrow twitched, Grim’s face halfway between annoyance and amusement. However, seeing as the … man was being difficult, and it was a chance to rib the younger woman, finally a sigh rumbled out of that modulator.

”You should tell him about how worried you were this entire week about leaving him here, while I made the suit,” Grim finally drawled. Okay, maybe she was enjoying this a little too much, knowing how Arcana reacted last time to the cloud’s advances. It was kind of funny, actually, now that her own irritation had cooled from the retelling of the story.

Slowly her goggles slid back to the floating cloud, head moving slowly up and down as she took in the appearance of ‘Bang’. It really was quite fascinating, and to be frank he was likely quite powerful.

Just stupid.

”Intriguing,” The vigilante muttered, the words rumbling deeply from her modulator as her gaze roamed over his cloudy form.

Lady Arcana’s head snapped towards Grim in an instant, a mortified expression settling on her face at the words the other woman spoke. Et tu, Zoey? Seriously, that was the last thing she wanted right now. She was trying to apologize, not get his reactor running again!

Exhaling sharply, she allowed her shoulders to sag. Turning back to him, regarded the Fedora Nukebeard with a somber expression. ”You’re right, manipulating and tricking you was a bitchy thing to do regardless of my reasons, and I really am sorry. I made this suit as both an apology and peace offering, as it will let you finally be the hero you wanted to be by giving you control over your powers!”

She hoped that would be a reasonable, non-flirtatious apology that wouldn’t get her in deeper radioactive water. It was impossible to predict how he would take any act of kindness from a woman, however.

Bang noticed the vehicle that Arcana had used to pull him up earlier, there was a movement within, and he noticed a man standing there, yelling up at them.

”Worried”? She was worried about me? The whole week?!

The storm inside Bang’s body only got fiercer.

As he ruminated on this the storm inside Bang’s cloud-like form turned into a series of small pops, that released fireworks patterns that twirled and spun around his form. His eyes shone a bright yellow far brighter than anything ever before.

He didn’t manage to catch a word of her response afterwards, he was too focused on the flood of feelings that ran across his brain… er… his brain cloud.

A snapping explosion sounded inside his core, and he shot forwards with a sudden burst of speed.

”I accept your apology, now suit me up!” he yelled as he spun around in the air, leaving a small tail of nuclear residue as he did.

Lady Arcana nodded, a slight smile returning to her face as a feeling of relief rushed over her. At least, regardless of what happened afterwards, they weren’t going to have to fight. The last thing she wanted was to mess up this new suit after Zoey had busted her ass to build it in such a short time.

Tossing first the helmet, and then the main portion of the advanced hazmat suit over to the swirling cloud of atomic death, she pursed her lips slightly in anticipation. She honestly didn’t know how he would react to whatever differences existed between this suit and his old one, given that it was bound to “feel” differently.

Hopefully in a good way.

”There you go! Enjoy!”

Bang watched the suit and helmet as they approached him… and passed right through him, falling to the water below. Before it hit, he managed to slip into the helmet, the empty suit floating on the water.

”Thanks,” he said smarmily as he flew down and found his way into the suit. He pulled the disconnected parts of the suit up with him as he flew, holding up a hand and batting the helmet into place, well, he tried, smacking his hand weakly against the bucket-like helmet like a dumbass before finally clicking it into position.

This felt different for sure. Heavier somehow, but not in a restrictive way, he felt less of the wind, in fact, his sense of touch seemed weakened a bit, but he felt a lot more… solid, if that was the right word.

He lifted up his hands, examining them, breathless in excitement. Finally he looked up at Arcana with a wide grin on his face.

”This is awesome! I love it!” he yelled out as he stretched around and smacked at the air.

Lady Arcana sighed in relief upon seeing his enthusiasm for his new container. Nodding gently, her eyes darted down to Grim. ”S-err, he built it. He can explain all of its features better than I can.”

Grim brought her arm up, tapping at the computer on her arm. Obediently the jet floated a bit closer, a little wobbly without someone actually at the controls, but it did the job. Now close enough to look upon them easily, a thoughtful hum rumbled out of her modulator like a growl.

”Well first of all, the seal,” The vigilante reached out, hands moving along the collar of Bang’s new suit, where it met the helmet. Finding a particular clip at the very back she pressed down, allowing the suit to leak air and ‘compress’ around him. ”I wasn’t sure of how tight to make it or how much space you took up, this should make it more natural feeling. And here-”

The black gloves of Grim’s hand trailed to tap against the compartment against the chest of the suit. ”Is a port. I studied your old suit and did some deductive reasoning from the uranium along parts of it that you … use it, to fuel yourself, perhaps? You don’t eat, right? Tell me if I’m wrong - but this will help it from leaking everywhere. Just place it inside and it can feed it to you either at once or to be stored for later. Just tap this button to inject it.”

Seemingly quite pleased with herself Grim crossed her arms, leaning back slightly. ”And everything is of course sealed perfectly to prevent leaks, which your old suit was doing in abundance.”

Bang watched in awe as the man showed him every little function of his suit. It was fascinating, not that he understood a word. He did, as a result of being so close, notice how lithe and thin the man was, it was strange, but the guy seemed more of the tech type than the punchy-kicky type anyway.

This guy… he was clearly friends with Arcana…

Or maybe something more.

Just the thought of it brought Bang to an overly emotional state. He had to figure this out, his future with this woman depended on it. He watched Arcana with a furrowed brow as he brought his head closer to the man.

”I really ‘preciate all of this, the suit, you even knew about my Uranium habit, real nice of you to give me a chance to fuel myself without having to take the darn helmet off. But, even if I really do have to thank ya’ for all of this, I need one last fav’r from ya’.”

Bang cupped a hand over his mouth as he whispered into the man’s ear.

”It may be hard to tell, but I really like that there girly, and I was just wondering… are you two…”

Instead of finishing the sentence, Bang simply swayed in place, getting across the main idea of the statement.

”I won’t get mad I promise, I just… I just don’t want my heart to get all… achey breaky, as said by Billy Ray Cyrus.”

Slowly, Grim tilted her head as she watched Bang come closer, whispering to her like he held the secrets to the universe. Of course, the words that came from his mouth only made her eyebrow twitch further. Did magic just make everyone insane? She felt like she was taking crazy pills.

The vigilante tilted her head, glancing to Arcana. Hovering there. Watching. Karen really didn’t enjoy Bang hitting on her, and he didn’t seem like the type to give up easily. It wasn’t like Grim could just tell him that Lady Arcana over there was thirteen and off limits for a relationship - that was kind of part of the whole secret identity thing.

”...Yes?” Grim finally said, trying to keep the discomfort from the word. She cleared her throat, it rumbling through the modulator like a crash. ”Yes.”

A massive weight felt like it had just crashed onto Bang’s shoulders. She was spoken for, out of the breeding pool, not open for business. Bang floated back slightly and tried to hide his heartbreak by grimacing.

”...Well.” he finally managed to say. ”I wish you both the best.”

He knew better than to try to do something like that to someone, especially someone who had made him something so great. He sighed and tried his hardest not to look shattered as he floated back over to Arcana.

Wait.

But… the flirting.

The worrying for him.

That wasn’t just something that a taken woman did.

Was she…

Oh the dirty girl.

Bang smiled as he offered his hand for Arcana to shake.

He felt bad, he really did, but he knew now what had to be done.

She will be mine.

Lady Arcana felt no small amount of relief on hearing that he was “giving up” on her. With everything that had been happening to her as of late, this was definitely one thing she did not need in her life. Wars, zombies, super zombies and...well, this guy. All of that, on top of her school work. Yeah, to say she was feeling the pressure would be a colossal understatement.

Offering him a warm smile of gratitude when he approached and offered her a handshake, she happily accepted it. Shaking it firmly, she lightly inclined her head in a bow. ”Thank you very much. I wish the best for you, too! I know you’ll become a great hero!”

She...actually felt good right now! Like she had really done the right thing, here. It was nice, knowing she could protect people while still making sure not to dehumanize potential “threats”.

”No,” Bang responded quickly. ”Thank you.”

He purposefully didn’t end that sentence, he could have said what he was thinking; “Thank you for giving me the chance to be a true hero,” or what he was really thinking; “Thank you for proving to me that the country I love isn’t just a dream anymore,” or what he was feeling; “Thank you for awakening my heart.”

He didn’t say any of those, it was a true test of willpower not to do so, but he succeeded, and turned to leave, looking one last time over his shoulder to see if there was anything he missed.

As he turned to leave, Lady Arcana gave him an energetic wave; her eyes closed as she smiled brightly. Beside her, Grim’s shoulders sagged as she sighed.

”The Wizard really fucked up giving you the body of a twenty year old.”

Lady Arcana didn’t stop waving, her face forcibly locked into its pleasant state. ”I know...I know.”

October 27th, 11:30 AM Local Time
Skull Island, In the North Pacific

Skull Island was a cliche within a cliche. An uncharted tropical island thickly covered in jungle. Strange animal cries unknown to the civilized world echoed out from the thick blanket of plant life. And, true to its name, there was a volcanic mountain in the shape of a skull after centuries of volcanic activity. On a beach on the north side of the island, however, Lord Death Man sat on a stony jetty long ago frequented by Spanish trade ships and pirates. Sitting on a deck chair next to a table with an umbrella with an ice-cold pitcher of lemonade, Lord Death Man reclined and listening to the cry of a large, noisy flock of colorful birds. Telescope in hand, he watched the horizon for signs of his guests. While he had the Deathsub, the others would likely need their own means of transport.

At least part of the reason for these particular cries from the colorful birds came as a result of Bane, who of course came to Skull Island aboard the Deathsub. Standing tall, well both out of confidence in a metaphorical sense he was physically taller than he was during his shenanigans in Mexico. Now the masked man they called Bane stood at a height of six feet and four inches. Sure it might've only been ten inches and a bit more muscle mass as a result of the mix of horrific surgery to lengthen bones that'd spook even hardened back-alley doctors and more exposure to his delightful blend of drugs the FDA would never approve, but it was surely going to be helpful to his "brand". And more importantly Bane remembered those words Joe told him when he introduced him to Hell; more mass.

And at this moment, while he would've preferred to be dressed in his more appropriate work-out attire, perhaps some swim trunks for some tropical cardio, there was "office business" to be done. So apart from his usual attire of drug insertion, Bane was dressed in a white floral shirt, black suit pants and some combat boots.

Now the reason for the shrieking of these colorful birds was due to Bane shouting at the ones flying a bit overhead. "DO YOU THINK YOU ARE WORTHY OF SERVITUDE TO LORD DEATH MAN!?"

To emphasize his point, and possibly to let out a bit of steam, Bane lunged upwards with a flying knee, which managed to catch part of the lower-flying flock and put them out of comission. He took one of the birds which began helplessly chirping, and flapping its wings in an attempt to fly. But it was of no use as the creature was brought up towards Bane's face.

"Do. You. UNDERSTAND?" after this interrogation he threw the bird against one of the many particularly hard looking flora. "Are you certain they will come of their own will? Do you need me to drag them here?"

"Woah woah woah! Bane, lad, don't go throwing the Carolina Parakeet. They're supposed to be extinct. Skull Island is an effort to reintroduce them into the wild. And... well, especially don't go kicking the Thylacines. It took me months in Tasmania to find enough for a breeding population."

"Hrm." Bane grumbled out as he glanced down at the downed bird. "I was unaware. ...I will try to take better care in which animals I assault here. I cannot promise anything however. But still I offer my apologies Lord Death Man."

"It's alright Bane, you're new on this, and it's okay to make mistakes. I suppose our first guest will be Manta- we've had dealings in the past."

Bane rolled his neck from side to side before placing both of his hands behind his head. Moving his legs a bit apart he glanced towards Lord Death Man, "Good dealings I hope or well I assume considering he is going to be one of the guests." he stated before performing some squats.

"Yes, he actually sold me the Deathsub. Refurbished it too after I promised I'd take potshots at any Atlanteans I saw. By the way, Atlantis is real, we're going to rob it some day."

"I-it is...?" Behind the mask Bane's eyes twinkled with a childish sense of wonder. He rose up and stopped doing his squats, "Is it true Plato lives there? I always wanted to make him tap out..." As he allowed his mind to wander on all the variety of holds he could place Plato in to force him to tap out, Bane went down and stretched out with a forward lunge.

---

Off the coast of Skull Island, if one were to closely monitor the horizon, they might just make out the unassuming silhouette of the GNS Achimota. Once the pride and joy and the Ghanaian Navy, the former 'flagship' now served a different, darker purpose: ferrying Black Manta, pirate lord of Somalia, to a volcanic island forgotten by man. The accomodations were decidedly spartan, especially when compared to his newly acquired yacht, but Black Manta wasn't the sort to sacrifice utility for convenience. The Achimota had a low profile, a respectable armament, and it was fast. As for the "Tiger's Den", it was slow, garish, and carried an inescapable scent that one could never quite place.

Were it not for the vessel's questionable legality, I'd have fenced the abomination already.

["Boss Manta, sir, we're nearing the island. Landfall in twenty."]

Having been embroiled in his thoughts, Black Manta hadn't even noticed the island prior to his crewman's remark. It was about what he'd expected, going off of previous dealings with the Death Syndicate, both as 'Professor Carver' and Black Manta proper. 'Lord Death Man' had a penchant for theatrics, and while it was leagues away from Black Manta's modus operandi, he could still respect it. The yakuza's creative spark could be of great benefit to his interests; Black Manta's interests, unsurprisingly, chiefly consisted of violently ending the life of King Orin. But who says you can't be creative, even in acts of merciless brutality?

Be that as it may, before Black Manta could indulge in his second-favourite pastime, he would have to prepare his men for their impending arrival at Skull Island. His aptitude as a leader of men remained somewhat unpolished, and while his penchant for silence served well enough when he needed to intimidate them, it was decidedly less suitable for commanding them.

["Good, call the others above-deck. You and Bashiir will go with me; the others will watch the Achimota. If there's any trouble, they will give the usual signal."]

["Anything else, Boss Manta?"]

["Our patron is not one of the milqetoast arms-dealers your late captain was so fond of, and is to be treated with repect. Step out of line, you lose a hand."]

["Of course."]

With that, the crewman descended below deck, once again leaving Black Manta to stew in his thoughts. Barring the occasional fleeting scheme against Aquaman, however, there wasn't overly much to think about. All that was really left to do was to simply wait for the boat to reach its destination.

---

"So" Bane started on switched position as he laid down on the sands and began to do some crunches. "Black Manta wouldn't have any trouble working with any, well I'll just call it, exercise equipment yes?"

"...Well, I suppose not, but remember, he's supposed to be here on business. And his scientific knowledge tends to be focused towards murdering fishmen."

A smaller boat pulled up to the dock, a grey wolf hopping out, along with a man in a pinstripe suit holding a suitcase. Death man held out his arms in welcome.

"Wolf Carson! It's been a dog's age! Oh, Bane, this is Wolfgang Carson, the Mad Dog of Minnesota. He escaped the electric chair by having his brain transplanted into an endangered Gray Wolf, meaning it was illegal to kill him."

The wolf snarled and growled a little as it headed up a path, lead along by one of Lord Death Man's henchmen, the man in the pinstripe suit following.

Bane eagerly arose from his routine of crunches, when Lord Death Man spoke of new guests. Bane was especially moved into reaction hearing about a man who was a wolf as such he waved many times towards the wolf, "Hola Senor Carson, how is it being a wolf?"

The wolf sat down on the path for a moment, looking pensive as he scratched behind and ear before barking and whining a couple of times at Death Man.

"He has this awful habit of humping furniture and howling, but he's still one of the most experienced crimelords in the Midwest."

"Then he must have much to teach." Bane nodded as he began stretching his right wrist. He turned to face Wolf Carson as if to study the crimelord for any subtle lessons. All he would find, however, was the canine crimelord dragging his butt through the dirt on the way up the path to an old plantation mansion.

"Indeed. I'm trying to bring as many old hands as newcomers to the crime scene as I can. With a particular bent for... unusual individuals. Pity Mr. Nobody was busy with that art exhibit..."

"I see, so that is what you are saying Carson...It is like streaks in the sands of time. Is that it?" Bane sagely spoke to himself trying to decipher some meaning in the actions of the canine crimelord. He shook his head before glancing towards Lord Death Man, "Is that his name or is he unimportant?"

"To hear Mr. Nobody tell it, it's his name because he's unimportant. He's... artsy."

"Artsy huh? IF I SEE HIM, HE WILL DISCUSS THE FINER POINTS OF CERAMIC SCULPTING OF THE AZTEC EMPIRE WITH ME OR ELSE I WILL INTRODUCE HIM TO MY INTERPRETATION OF A POLLACK!" Bane began squeezing his right palm in and out quickly before bringing his left hand to join as he wrung his hands for a few moments before suddenly stopping, "Well, assuming he makes a good conversation partner, I'll discuss that alongside other pieces. I will accept discussions of the other Nahaus as a starting point."

"Yes, I suppose... ah, there's Zigomar's helicopter, he'll be heading for the helipad." Death Man once again took up the telescope, looking out to the sea. "...Ah. Yes, that ship will be Manta. Seems the reports from my contacts in Africa were true."

"How many more guests do you think will show if I may inquire Lord Death Man?"

"Well, accounting for those who can't make it, those that have expressed interest total up to one hundred and eight members. Now, they're not all old hands like Wolf, Snake, and I, but they're at least established as criminals- bizarre or otherwise."

"Snake? Snake? Snaaake?! Is he also like Wolf!?! A man made into a snake or many snakes since many snakes are small!? And it is good to know these other members have established themselves as bizarre. Truly again I must say there will be much to learn."

"No, no, King Snake is an old acquaintance. He's quite human. We fought over Beijing and Shanghai for a while, but came to an understanding eventually. I'm unkillable, and his kung-fu is better than that of my hitmen."

"I see. I will enjoy seeing The King Snake." Bane stated with a nod as Lord Death Man stood up, a goofy-looking bird squawking as it ran by.

"We'll head back up to the fort in a bit. I'm not sure if Luthor will be stopping in, but it should be enough even without him."

"I'm sure we will do business with him later. He seemed like a perfectly reasonable fellow. You still have his card?"

"Yes, and he has one of mine. I always keep a few on hand."

---

Trailing only slightly behind the other invitees, the Achimota finally docked at Skull Island, just as the predicted twenty minutes elapsed. Not one to waste time, Black Manta moved to disembark post-haste, motioning for his selected crewmembers to fall into step.

["Boss Manta, the animals on this island, aren't they supposed to be extinct?"]

["Yes,"] Black Manta responded, ["they are also under the protection of our patron."]

["But just imagine how mu-"]

["We don't steal from our clients, Bashiir. When we begin our war against Atlantis in earnest, there will be an abundance of beasts for us to poach."]

With that, Bashiir raised no further complaint, content to imagine the possibility of hunting something no man had ever encountered, let alone caught. As for Black Manta, he moved to approach the man in the skeleton-themed outfit, figuring him to be Lord Death Man. Despite never having met the man in person, Black Manta recognized the outfit from the oft-televised escapades of the famed 'phantom thief'.

"Manta! Good to see you in person. I heard about you offing Tiger Shark, figured I'd let you in on something I'm planning as thanks."

"Likewise, Lord Death Man. Though, and I feel obliged to ask, how might this plan of yours pertain to my interests? I desire the head of King Orin on a spike, gilded trinkets and fame are of secondary importance."

Death Man sighed. He'd expected this from the single-minded pirate king. He'd have to walk Manta through this if he wanted his scientific expertise.

"Well, Manta, I am inviting you to join in a criminal enterprise. This will allow you to harass King Orin in numerous ways."

"Elaborate."

"Crime is used to acquire money, which can be exchanged for goods and services. Goods and services can be used to inconvenience Atlantis."

"Splendid. I'm in."

"Excellent! Ah, this is Bane, Senketsu Joe's new tag partner, and one of my enforcers. I trust we'll be working together in the future."

Bane did not utter a word, no he would simply allow his body language to speak for himself here. He kept a professional stance, his arms extended slightly out ready for action and his legs shoulderwidth apart. And with that he gave a simple nod towards Black Manta, then quickly turning his gaze towards Black Manta's pirates, observing them for any "interesting responses".

However the silent response would be shortlived, after all, Bane had things to discuss with this Manta. Before that though he turned his head towards Lord Death Man, "When that day comes I will not disappoint you." With that said his attention turned towards Black Manta, "I will to speak to you at a later time about a subject most important. But before then, answer me this..."

"...Plato lives in Atlantis right?! DO NOT TELL ME PLATO MOVED AWAY BEFORE I COULD EVEN PAY HIM A VISIT AND MAKE HIM TAP OUT!"

"Certainly. As for Plato, I can't say for certain. Atlantis holds many things forgotten by man, however, and he could be one of them."

"Hhrm. A definitive answer would have been nice, but, HE IS SURELY THERE! And when I get my hands on Plato, I will throw him off the Dolphin he is using to race against Socrates and, what was his name, Tupac..."

"I'll see to it that my crew leave them to you, should we encounter them. It is good to see someone willing to hunt a foe with such zeal. I look forward to working with you, Bane."

"As do I." Behind the mask there was a huge grin as Bane began rubbing his hands together, "...Sooner or later Plato, you too Socrates and I definitely have not forgotten you Tupac. Each and everyone one of you will tap..."

Lord Death Man nodded and motioned to a stately mansion farther inland with his cane. "Well then, there's refreshments and accomodations for all up at the old manor. I'll be making the announcement in the banquet hall once all our guests arrive around lunch time."

With that, he started up the path to the manor, a trail beaten down by regular passage over the decades. From within the jungle, strange calls and vocalizations could be heard... none of which bothered Lord Death Man.

"If you want a translation, those cries come in two flavors- 'Do Me' or 'Stay off My Land.'"

Jermaine Henderson was scared.

That wasn’t an easy admission for the fourteen year old to make. More than anything, he wanted everyone to know just how tough he was. To know that they’d better not look down on him just because he was young.

That was the reason he was still playing GTAVI, after all.

By now the rumors about the kids in Brooklyn who had been abducted - or worse - had spread to the point where New York-based servers that were once packed had now been closed down by Rockstar due to the high profile abductions.

There weren’t many kids that were brave enough to play a game that might literally result in their deaths. Even if they were, their parents would certainly not permit it.

Jermaine’s sure hadn’t. That’s why he made a show of smashing his CD in front of his mom. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t understand that you could play without the CD. It was on his steam account now, the CD key was in, and so he didn’t even need it anymore.

And so he was playing, behind his mother’s back. It was a bit laggy, as he had to play on servers based outside of New York, but it was still playable. He had told himself everything would be fine. That the abductions had nothing to do with GTA, that it was just the media blaming video games again like it always did.

He wished he had listened to his mother, now.

“Don’t look behind you, Jermaine,” the voice whispered again, it’s chilled breath causing the hairs on his neck to stand.

It was the second time it had said that, and Jermaine was trying desperately to follow those instructions. His eyes were shut tight, his entire body was trembling. He could feel the heat of tears against his cheeks and the chill of sweat on his brow. Every second that passed, he could feel the presence behind him more intensely. He didn’t want to look, but…

...It was as if he was being compelled to do so.

“P-please…please…”

A low, raspy chuckle sent waves of that icy breath against his neck again. “Don’t look behind you…!”

It was like his heart was going to explode. He could already feel his body turning as the pressure became overwhelming. And he knew for certain at that point…

He was going to die.

Opening his eyes, Jermaine’s mouth opened to scream at what he saw. The Kinderfresser.

Rooftops of Brooklyn
8:48 p.m.

He hadn’t been active in almost two weeks. Readjusting to the sounds of the outside world was difficult at first, and the streets below had not yet begun to clear. Through the light yellow slits of the eyes of the suit, Tiger watched over the projects, but not with leisure. Though he was still hurting, it was his intentions that kept him on his feet. Tonight, he would catch the Kinderfresser; tonight, no one else’s children would die because he was injured. He put a hand to the side of the dark grey mask atop his head which capped off the monochrome suit, the latest of his suit’s iterations. Within the stitching of the mask’s mesh, there was a small sensory activated sight module which gave Marvin access to the mask’s built in vision settings: the eyes changed from their light yellow to a deep green--the magic scanner.

Lit were the streets of Brooklyn in a soft hue of a similar shade. A pulsing dim energy flared within the altered visage of the suit; Marvin was staring at traces of mystical energy. A gift from a certain canine friend of his; she wanted those kids out of her castle, he was sure, and so this fine gadget here would speed the process. The Kinderfresser, for all it was, lacked creativity. From the crime scene photos Marvin studied, all the abductions were the same: no signs of forced entrance, usually no blood--a clean disappearance. The Kinderfresser--or rather, the Child Eater--had gotten bold, bold enough to give Marvin just enough; it had left its name. “Kinderfresser” was indeed German, and it was far more sinister than Marvin previously thought.

The string of kidnappings by this ‘Child Eater’ stretched centuries, and it was indiscriminate of sex or color when picking its victims. The one thing Susan McKenzie, Travis Williams, Brandon Plymouth, and Teon Hollins all had in common? They were ‘bad’ kids, none of them were awful children by anyone’ standards but they had been ‘naughty’ in the Kinderfresser’s eyes. Its method of abduction was never the same each time, but there was one constant: every child was abducted while playing a fashionable game of their time. For Susan, hopscotch; Brandon, Travis, and Teon, GTA VI. Marvin couldn’t figure out why they were all taken while playing video games and chalked it up to coincidence. It wasn’t something of great import right now, anyway.

From his perch, Tiger leapt. He had mastered every crevice of these projects’ roofs, and crossing them--even while in pain--was nigh effortless. It helped that he was overall in better essential condition than a normal human, some still healing wounds would not slow him down as it would someone else. In his traverse, he kept his eyes on the trail sussed by the magic sensing technology. The Kinderfresser forged a hard trail to track, its presence left energy residue instead of footprints and it seemed as though it had been busy tonight, aiming to pick the most satisfying prey, for there were several strands of its energy winding into no particular path.

Until the strands of energy conjoined into a single point of entry. That was not good. It meant the Kinderfresser was about to capture another if it hadn’t already--Tiger had to pick up the pace. His usually elegant leaps and soft landings which preferred for the sake of his knees and ankles he traded for wide and arcing bounds, virtual continuous longjumps which propelled him fifteen to twenty feet forward with any given leap. Combined with an upstart in acceleration and an intentional boost in speed, Marvin closed the distance between his former position and where the Kinderfresser’s trail went dead within a few seconds. His heart thudded against his chest, a jackhammer--even with the cooling insulation of the suit, Marvin was pushing himself harder than he had in a long time, he could feel the ick of his own blood as it zipped through his veins. He was in anguish with each move, but he was exhilarated as well. He was hunting again.

One final leap, the dark monochrome grey mesh-weave suit glistened against the white moon as Marvin soared across the opaque background of the night. He landed in a squat, knees bent and never bent too far in front of his toes so as to lessen the impact. Even one with his capabilities was not immune to a torn ACL given a poor landing. He didn’t cease his momentum, his target was right below him! He turned on both heels and darted toward the roof’s edge, his acceleration-to-top speed time was incredible, his twist into a backflip which he sprung after grabbing onto the edge of the roof and bulldozing the metallic lined fiber of the suit’s feet into the glass window where the Kinderfresser and Jermaine were was even better.

After he crashed through the window, he ducked into a roll--he landed on his feet with the deftness of his namesake in miniature form and rose to full height; the bleak grey of the suit knocked against the cold blue night, creating a long and thick silhouette around him which highlighted his freakishly athletic physique. His voice was ice from beneath the mask,

”Enough.”

The Kinderfresser reached its obsidian hand out for Jermaine, preparing to consume him just as he had the others.

This was a time far greater than any that had come before it. In centuries past, it could perhaps harvest a single disobedient child per year, often traveling great distances in search of the ideal prey. The world was once so disparate, with houses often be miles apart. Disobedient children were also far less common, the harsher times making respect for one’s elders virtually mandatory. But now things were different.

Now there were hundreds, perhaps thousands just waiting to be devoured. Packed tightly into boroughs such as this one, the internet offering them an easy outlet for their defiance. It was, after all, a gourmet. If a child’s soul was too dark, then it would gain nothing from it. On a similar note, should it shine too brightly, the Kinderfresser would be driven away. It was the flawed, the troubled that it sought. Those who were tainted, but not yet consumed by evil.

Those like young Jermaine.

Seizing the boy’s torso with it’s long black fingers, it began to draw him towards that mouth of crimson fire that would be the end of his short life of rebellion. And then the shattering of glass did something that the Kinderfresser believed was impossible: surprised it.

Whirling to face the intruder, that maw of fire stretched wider and released an unearthly roar that shook the entire project. It was in this moment that Jermaine at last found his voice and released a sharp scream that surely alerted his mother.

Howling in rage at having its meal interrupted, the Kinderfresser hurled the boy straight at Tiger, before lunging forward and seizing the strangely dressed man by the neck with a supernatural strength and speed that sent the three of them back through the window.

Fast as Tiger was, this Kinderfresser was several steps beyond; all he could do was catch Jermaine by the collar of his shirt before Tiger, too, was sent spiraling through the window with the Kinderfresser’s charge. That same exhilaration he felt earlier still beat through his being, and he would use it to his advantage; curling Jermaine in one arm, Tiger clutched the midrift of Jermaine’s shirt and tore in into a single ribbon. Tiger waited until he and Jermaine neared the top of a streetlight before he unfurled Jermaine from his grasp like a bowler following through the motion of his form and let the sliver of thin cotton strip snag onto the small arc of the top of the light. Jermaine was suspended tight in air, as a kid who is bullied hangs from the flagpole after his antagonists yoke him up.

Tiger, on the other hand, continued to fall, his back smashed into the roof of a minivan; the absorbent material of the suit dispersed the kinetic impact across the width and length of his body, even as he crushed the hood itself beneath his frame. Though the impact was absorbed and dispersed, it didn’t stop his body from slamming into the lined mesh metal composite of the suit itself; for a moment, Tiger was stunned. Tiger knew he had to move, and quickly, because his opponent was descending on him--and not even his suit would protect him from that mystical crimson flame; he rolled off the hood of the crushed minivan and onto his hands and knees, where he briefly crawled before he wobbled onto his feet. His head still rung.

That was certainly not the smartest thing he had ever done.

Kinderfresser was in truth surprised by its own power. While the taste of tainted children was a strong preference by it, the reality was that it had - for the longest time - simply been too weak to go after most adults. But since a year ago - almost exactly! - it had felt so much stronger than before.

The laylines had flowed with power, and creatures such as it reaped the benefits. Now it feared no mere human, including this beastman standing before it. While it may not enjoy him nearly so much, it would gladly consume his soul as well so that he would never interfere with its dinner again.

Stretching its mouth further still, an unearthly howl filled the streets of Brooklyn as the devourer of children fell upon the vigilante, long dark cloak blending almost seamlessly into the night sky as it whipped about its form without any aid from the wind. Reaching out to grasp at him with those serrated fingers, the Kinderfresser attempted to draw him into its form.

Tiger’s senses came about him again, for a moment he was seeing double! In that time, the Kinderfresser had both descended and closed the distance between itself and Tiger; but now, the Child Eater was in Marvin’s world. He countered the Kinderfresser’s outstretched arm with a quick roll of his head beneath its right arm and he leaned his body low, carrying his entire frame toward the Kinderfresser’s side. One strong hook--hard enough to test the durability of this Kinderfresser, but not enough for Marvin to expend too much stamina; he would have to save that for any possible blitzkrieg, but Tiger knew he would also have to end the fight quick lest the Kinderfresser begin to utilize his speed advantage.

Alongside the powerful hook, Tiger went to throw in a knee. He jolted the upper portion of his thigh into the same area he had just tried to hit; first in Tiger’s array of styles, Muay Thai, a form which generated enough force and power behind its individual movements to fell most corporeal beings who were not named Superman, Harris, or Lady Arcana.

The first impact against the Kinderfresser’s ghostly form embedded deeply in its robes, pushing it to the side. The kick that followed likewise pushed it further away, infuriating the creature. It wasn’t used to its prey fighting back. Most couldn’t even react when it came for them. This human was clearly going to make a nuisance of himself.

Flexing its massive claws, the Kinderfresser once more lunged at Tiger with deadly speed and precision. Slicing across the vigilante’s current position, the moment of its strike carried on into the vehicle the human had crashed into only moment’s before. Slicing deep into it with little fanfare, gas began to leak from the punctured tank.

Spinning in midair to face him again, the Kinderfresser unleashed a series of claw strikes aimed at bisecting the beastman. Even if it didn’t get to consume his soul, it would be content to have him gone.

Tiger had--against his intentions--pushed the Kinderfresser away from him and given the Kinderfresser space to use his speed again; when the Kinderfresser closed distance the second time, the first of the claw swipes severed Tiger’s mask along the front, the serrated edges of the creature’s tarsals cut deep into Tiger’s skin. Tiger wallowed in the initial pain, never had his suit been ripped open. In the back of Marvin’s mind, he had (foolishly) begun to think his invention infallible. Of course he was--as was typical of late--wrong.

Muscle memory was the only reason he wasn’t bisected by the second set of claws, his years of boxing training cued his body to evade after being hit, no matter the pain. Half his face exposed, with the tatters of the mask dangling by a thread off his jawline and blood--which quickly began to coagulate--escaping down the side of his face and trailing down the bodypiece of his suit, Marvin had to think of a new plan fast. Then he saw it, the gas leak! The only problem was that he lacked a lighter.

Somehow, he had to make one, and all before the Kinderfresser realized its own mistake. Tiger had to buy himself some time; keep the monster enraged so he would slip up: something told Tiger that this creature was taken aback by new prey that would not merely bow to it. Something told Tiger that this Kinderfresser, for all its legend and the fear it struck in the hearts of children across the centuries, was, for the first time in a long time. . . scared.

That was all Tiger needed.

Tiger had to keep the pressure on, occupy the Kinderfresser’s mind with what was in front of it, force it into tunnel vision. To this end, Tiger took the offensive, he sprinted toward the Kinderfresser; the back of Tiger’s mind fixated on the streetlights surrounding the projects and providing the lone source of light barring the few lit windows of patrons who were watching television. Some had even begun to open their windows after hearing the commotion.

The Kinderfresser howled again at the nimble feline when it managed to avoid being cleaved in twain by its claws. He wasn’t even as a beastman, as the creature had initially presumed, but rather a mere human wearing a costume of some sort. For such a pathetic being to dare and defy it for this long...this incensed it to its very core. Humans were meat, their souls a mere savory nectar that its continued existence demanded.

Charging to meet the foolhardy man, its claws at the ready, the Kinderfresser released an ear-piercing shriek as its claws began to weave an intricate pattern through the air with their continuous swipes. Any one of them would be enough to end costumed vigilante if they landed firmly, but this man somehow managed to be far quicker than any the creature had ever encountered before.

But it was swifter still. Swifter than any mere human, to be certain. The whistling of the air as it cut through it was proof enough of this.

“They are mine...” The Kinderfresser’s voice rasped, seeming to carry farther on the wind than it had any right to. “All of them!”

Tiger’s aim was not to meet the creature head on; he would assure death that way. No, it was to give the gas enough time to seep forward and set itself within the various cracks of the surface below. After Tiger had gathered enough momentum, he slid low between the creature’s legs--no fancy fighting technique, something he learned when he was a kid himself and played baseball with his father at the park. Tiger kicked up onto his feet as the creature’s bellowing shriek ricocheted off the buildings and shattered the streetlights in front of the Kinderfresser. As the bulbs popped, small torrents of heat danced toward the ground and sparked the gas into flame!

It didn’t take long for the flame to trail along the fluid and ignite itself as the belly of a snake slithers its owner across surface. Marvin heard it ignite and continue to forge its path toward the Kinderfresser--and if the Kinderfresser dodged--himself. Tiger once again leapt up, this time atop the single piece of the minivan that was left before he quickly changed terrain and latched himself onto a window ledge. As though his body were a thing out of Tetris, he contorted while one foot was on the window ledge and burst himself atop the same streetlight Jermaine hung from. Tiger’s breathing was now rapid; the unhealed injuries began taking a toll on him. He was unsure how much he had left in him while in this state.

Without hesitation, he leaned over his perch on the streetlight and expended more of his strength in order to burst its bulb as well, sparking a more stout stream of flame which fluttered the Kinderfresser’s way and had began to spread at a rapid pace. Screams from the highrises emitted and were carried by the wind below and into Tiger’s ears; they already rung from the reverb of the shriek, these other screams did not help his predicament.

The Kinderfresser had been surprised when Tiger had dived beneath its form, not expecting him to risk being any closer than he had to be after seeing the speed at which it could strike. Still, it had immediately turned to face the nimble human and pursue him, only for a trail of flames to erupt along the path to the minivan and catch the edge of its cloak. For the first time in its centuries long existence, the creature experienced true pain as its cloak was set ablaze. Thrashing about in an effort to put out the blaze, it slammed into the minivan - a panicked mistaked - just as the vigilante broke yet another light above it.

That was when the streams of flame converged onto the minivan, and in a flash that briefly cast away the night, the vehicle erupted in flames. Flames that consumed the Kinderfresser.

A truly ear shattering screech filled the air, windows shattering in both homes and nearby cars as the once pitch-black Kinderfresser burst from the fiery remnants of the minivan and began to hysterically slam into the walls of the nearby projects. Like a ball of fire it streaked through the air, continuing to scream as glass shattered in its wake. Higher into the night sky it flew, its pain echoing on the wind for miles even as it fled the city.

---

“There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter,” Nimrod spoke the words of Ernest Hemingway, the scope of his Cheytac M200 Sniper Rifle zooming in on his quarry as it sat perched on a street lamp, hunting the the strange spectre.

It was be easy to end him here, to place a bullet between his eyes...but The Tiger was not yet healed completely. That much was clear to him in the way he moved, a certain stiffness that he strived to overcome. Most would not notice it, but he did. That hint of extra tension in his well-defined musculature that he had flawlessly mapped over the past week.

No, he would not kill him yet. He would merely leave him with...a warning.

Lowering his aim, Nimrod zeroed in on his left knee. With a squeeze of the trigger, the most powerful sniper rifle in the world released a bullet from over 1.4 miles away, instantly clearing the distance.

---

There was only white, searing torment. A shot so sudden, so perfectly placed, Marvin didn’t have time to scream. In an instant in time, Marvin lay sprawled atop the lone piece of the minivan as sun colored flames howled mere inches below. For all the fine tuning, refining, and failsafes placed in his latest suit, Marvin had nothing in it which could withstand a caliber beyond .50.

An err that this day the Brooklyn mask rued.
In the dark of unconsciousness he lie: vulnerable, weak. Prey.

--

“Do not disappoint me, Mr. Hayes,” Nimrod whispered, standing over the prone body of The Tiger, his silver mask reflecting the fires that burned around them. “I am seeking something far greater than the money of some petty crime lord.”

Reaching into his pocket, Nimrod tossed a bloody ear onto the chest of the unconscious Tiger. “This is a hunt between you and I, and Nimrod shall brook no interference, even from the likes of Carmine Persico.”

Turning away, Nimrod raised his hat slightly, eying his prey over his shoulder. “I suggest you recover quickly, they will be coming for you, my hunter. Wipe them out.”

---

Sirens blared throughout the projects: some from police cars, others from firefighters, the last group from paramedics. The firefighters got to the business of trying to put out the flames; the paramedics aided Marvin and threw him in the back of their vehicle. Marvin Hayes had unwittingly endangered the innocent denizens of Marcy; and this would likely be the last time they saw their masked hero. There was word that the Marcy projects itself was being condemned; despite the severe drop in crime, there was little even Hayes could do to improve the conditions of the projects themselves.

When Marvin next awoke, he stared at the ceiling of the paramedics’ van, a masked ET stood over him; and like before, he was hooked to IVs and tubes. Behind the paramedic van was a police car and a patty wagon.

If October was a long month for Tiger, November would feel as an eternity.