Jessie scribbled over another half-baked design idea, groaning in frustration as she tossed her empty Chinese takeout container towards the trash can. A clatter and rattling sound indicated that she had not 'swooshed' it. Whatever. Farnsworth would get it. As if on cue, a mechanical motor sound filled the space as her robotic butler-that-totally-wasn't-a-repurposed-Roomba got to work finagling her trash into the can from the floor. Sighing to herself and shaking her head, Jessie turned to her computer. The inspiration just wasn't coming, she couldn't form any new ideas! She needed some space, maybe someone was streaming...

No Little Lightning Bolt.

Nothing new on HeroWatch

VigilanTwitch was... Oh shit, shut down. Well, she'd have to look into that more later.

Damn it, absolutely nobody was on--

Ding

Jessie turned back to her computer, checking the email alert that had just come through. 'Arsenal is now streaming' The alert said, and Jessie swiftly clicked the link. He was sort of an anti-hero type, but he wasn't too bad for Jessie's money. And besides, she was bored! She stared at the information on the screen as the stream started up, watching messages roll into chat. She squinted at the images on the screen, her lips tightening. She knew that ATM... What the hell, he was in Coast City!

Transfixed to the screen, Jessie watched the anti-hero draw on the thief and take him out swiftly, giggling at the use of the net arrow. Did he design and build all these himself? If so, the man had some talent. She was about to donate and send him a 'Welcome to Coast City' message before she heard the sirens. Scrolling back up the screen, Jessie growled at the whistleblower. Damn buzzkill was probably the same guy who got VigilanTwitch shut down too... Making a mental note to doxx him later, Jessie quickly sent off a larger donation and signed off.

She had an idea.



Jessie flicked on her microphone again, snapping her fingers to sync the audio with the security footage she was recording in the lab. Since her inspiration earlier in the month, she had halted all work on new VR programs, relying on the myriad of popular games to run the store for her while she worked tirelessly on her newest design. She had spent more nights crashing at the upstairs apartment with Beka than actually going home to her nice big mansion. But that was all about to be worth it. Jessie traced her fingers over the sleek gunmetal paint of the device, grinning madly. She may have gotten away with the aesthetics, considering she wasn't even sure if it'd work this time. But that was just how she worked! Settling her green goggles over her eyes and slipping her gloves on, Jessie hefted the curved bow and turned towards her firing range.

The MARAUDER project had been a subject of vague interest to her for a few years, ever since she stumbled upon references to it while researching plasma-based technology. Basically, it was a hairbrained scheme that somehow got government funding that nobody expected to work... That did work. And then was immediately classified. But there was still some information out there. It used toroids made of plasma spun at high speeds using magnets to accelerate more plasma through the rings of the toroids and create something called 'hypervelocity projectiles'. She'd begun her initial designs while still trying to break into the government databases and get more current information, and when she had finally done that she threw out all the new info in favor of her own designs and theories.

Jessie tugged on the carbon nanofibre cable that connected each end of the bow, watching the purplish-whitish veins along its surface light up. A high-pitched whine kicked in as the vents opened to collect oxygen from the surrounding air. She'd have to fix the noise issue later. Once filled, the vents sent the gathered oxygen to the plasma compression chambers, a series of miniaturized generators located along the limbs. Those chambers would heat up using power drawn from a built-in Ectoan energy crystal, heating to 174,500 degrees Kelvin, ionizing the oxygen and generating plasma. From there, electromagnets would begin to activate, spinning and shaping the plasma in the limb chambers, creating the donut-shaped plasma toroids. The vents would activate again, drawing more oxygen into a pair of chambers at the very tips of the limbs, generating more plasma, which would soon be propelled at unfathomable speeds by passing through the highly magnetized plasma rings contained in the other compression chambers.

Jessie blinked. Her shoulder was sore. She glanced over, realizing she had drawn the bow back fully now. It was ready to go, judging from the glowing veins and the gentle vibrations. She'd gotten so caught up in the technical specifications, she wasn't really sure how long she'd been standing there with the bow drawn.

Clearing her throat, Jessie turned to the floating microphone that had followed her to the firing range and began to speak. "Right! So! This is practical test one of the MARAUDER plasma-caster! Proof of concept tests have been good so far, everything works in isolated conditions. But this is the first test where we put everything together!" Jessie turned back towards the target ten yards away before pausing. "I should probably have rigged a remote system for testing this. But fuck it, right?! Firing in three... Two... One..."

FWOOM

Jessie was grateful for the automatic dimmers she'd built into her goggles, because that could have blinded her. As the dust settled and the smoke cleared, Jessie was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. The simple target she had set up, a stack of leftover pizza boxes, was just... Gone. Not even a trace of it left. No smoking pile of ash, no debris, not even a scorch mark. Jessie immediately figured that was the reason labs used oxygen plasma for cleaning work, it really does destroy all organic matter.

The moment of silence was broken by a whoop of exultation as Jessie lifted the bow above her head and jumped in place. She had done it! She had built a miniaturized MARAUDER weapon using nothing but earth technology and a single alien power crystal, in the style of an idolized livestreaming star!

The rest of the night was spent documenting the successful test, finishing details in the blueprints, excitedly radioing up to Beka, and finalizing her Whistleblower-Buster program. Finally content with her days work, nearing midnight now, Jessie sent an email to Arsenal via the personal email server she had managed to dig up on him thanks to her computer relations skills

To:Leo$@bingfreeserver.com

From: GirlGeniusJ355@ihavemyownemailservice.pizza

Subject: A gift from me to you!

Body: I saw you were in Coast City a few weeks ago, and I wanted to put together a 'welcome to town' present! Unfortunately, it took longer than I thought, but San Diego isn't too far! See the attached images to check out your new gift! Also the WB-B attachment should help stream snipers fuck off from now on.

Regards!

A genius fan.

PS: If you want your gift just email me back, I'm sure we can figure out a pickup spot.

Leo rose from his seat at the bench as the hour struck, seeing the bus driver open the doors to his bus. After this one reaches Primm, he'll have to wait another day for the bus to Vegas. He approaches the bus, pulling his ticket out of his jacket, and steps aboard, pulling along his duffle bag and suitcase. The bus driver himself was probably in his 50's, and just looked so eager to drive a near-empty bus for hours on end. He spoke to Leo in a tired voice.

"Ticket, please."

Leo hands the driver the ticket and begins to find a seat, but was stopped by the driver.

"Hey, one carry-on only! Anything else has to go in the storage!"

Leo looked around the deserted bus station outside, finding not a single soul but him, the driver, and the ticket-booth attendant waiting lazily in his little box, watching something on his phone. Leo turned back to the driver.

"C'mon, man, there's nobody else here. And do you really want to get out and open up the compartment, or do you wanna get going?"

The bus driver stared him down for a second, before sighing and letting him pass.

"... Oh, go ahead, I don't give a shit..."

Leo nodded his head and walked to the back of the bus, where the cool kids (and formerly oppressed minorities, but that's besides the point) sit, picking up the man's thoughts on his way:

BORING AS HELL
TIRING AS HELL
STILL GETTING PAID

What a sad man. Leo takes a seat with his belongings and the bus, after a few hopeful (and legally required) minutes of waiting, shuts it's doors and begins it's journey.

Leo whips out his phone and notices a new notification. An Email, seemingly from a fan. But but this wasn't on his Arsenal fanmail email, it was his personal email. That's concerning. He read through the email thoroughly, partially out loud as he does when thinking. Good thing he was in the back.

"To Leo, from 'GirlGeniusJ355' at... She... She has her own email...?"

Leo, now incredibly interested, continues to read on:

"... 'A gift from me to you'... Saw you were in Coast City... Welcome to town present... do do do do... See attached images."

He opened the attached image, and saw the gift that was prepared: a futuristic-looking bow, with all sorts of fancy doodads on it. Leo can't exactly tell what they do, but it appears to have vents with tubes. Definitely for some sort of oxygen compression. Pneumatic, maybe? But then there's this crystal... What was that for? And what mineral was it?

But the questions can wait. That bow looks fucking awesome. Leo wants to shoot with it. Case closed. Continuing with the rest of the email:

"... The WB-B attachment..."

Leo cautiously opened up the code and gave it a look over. This "WhistleBlower-Buster" program was... Well, Genius. He didn't even know what most of this meant, but he could tell it was some high-level stuff. After double-checking the code for any malicious code or backdoors, he sent the code to one of his Admins to implement it into the site. He finished the email:

"... Regards... 'A genius fan'... Yeah, no kidding."

He noticed the P.S under the farewell, and his tone started getting excited.

"P.S.... 'If you want your gift just email me back, I'm sure we can figure out a pickup spot'?! Oh dang!"

The bus driver gives Leo a look in his rear view as if saying "Quiet down, I don't need this right now". Leo got the message and piped down his happiness. He proceeded to type out a response in silent joy.

---

To: GirlGeniusJ355@ihavemyownemailservice.pizza

From: Leo$@bingfreeserver.com

Subject: RE: A gift from me to you!

Body: Hey there, person! Thanks for writing. Not even gonna ask how you got this email, because judging by your work (and username), you're pretty smart.

I've already got my site managers working that program you gave me into the site. The code was absolute brilliance. I'll be able to stream for a longer amount of time now. Thanks!

But now let's talk about that bow: it looks WICKED. I'm not entirely sure how it works besides the oxygen compression, but I'm sure I'll find out!

... Some packaged instructions would also help.

I'll be in Primm tomorrow on the 22nd before I head to Fabulous Las Vegas. If you can, I'd like you to drop the bow off on the roof of the hotel there. I'm sure you have a way. If possible, I'd like to send a gift of my own back! Least I can do!

Anyway, always nice to hear from a fan. I'm glad you enjoy my stream! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to have peeps like you as my fans!

Love,

Arsenal

---

Aaaaaand sent. There we are. Leo switches to a music app and puts a pair of headphones on, drifting off to sleep as the bus makes it's journey to Primm.

”...And how many stories did you say it was, again?” asked Aelia Marcella de Herlua, gazing up at the American branch of Harlow Enterprises from the street. She paid no mind to the slack-jawed expressions of the yanks surrounding her, an overreaction to her use of a simple gateway spell to travel here from her home in Essex. She sincerely hoped that not everyone here would be so melodramatic in the face of their betters.

“Thirty-five, ma’am,” said Charles, her uncle’s valet, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

Aelia sniffed the air in mild disappointment. ”Not quite a skyscraper, is it? Oh well, it’s merely a side branch, after all.”

Proceeding past the crowd—who gave her quite the wide berth—and through the revolving doors, she was lead to a lift. Rather than ascending, however, they were taken below the ground level. Down, down deep below the city. When the doors parted, Aelia found herself within a vast chamber of steel and rock

A field of panels could be seen in the distance even from the lift, devices created not to absorb sunlight, but to draw upon the leylines. It was the company’s current pet project, and her father had sent her here to lend her formidable arcane abilities to Uncle Marcus, the head of their American branch.

Arching her brow at the sound of distance explosions, she shifted her icy blue gaze to Charles.

“Durability testing, ma’am,” he said. “As they are so very expensive to make, your uncle therefore wishes them to be difficult to break.”

Aelia nodded and started in the direction of the distant thunder. It was fortuitous that a company of good moral standing such as Herlua Enterprises was pioneering this technology—far too many corporations would have been all too happy to simply overcharge for easily broken panels in the hopes of turning an additional profit from the frequent replacements.

She wondered what sort of weapon he had chosen to test on them, however. In this age of fake Magi playing dress up, there were simply too many ways for their products to meet an unpleasant end.

Spotting her uncle standing on a platform overlooking the panels, she wasted little time in ascending the steel staircase to greet him. Drawn by the sound of her approaching footsteps, the bespoke-suited Herlua brother waved to his niece.

“Ah, Aelia! Good of you to join us, welcome!” he said jovially, rushing forward to embrace her. “My, you’ve certainly grown, haven’t you?”

”Well, that tends to happen when you never visit, Uncle,” she said, glancing down at the panels. It had been a couple of years since she had seen him, which was rather hurtful considering he could simply step through a portal to see her if he really wanted.

Raising her hands in mock defense, her chuckled. “I’m sorry, Aelia, really—things have been terribly busy over here, new research, you understand, I’m sure.”

”Father did say that you achieved quite the breakthrough while I was attending college. I take it these panels are the fruits of your labour?”

Uncle Marcus grinned eagerly. “They are indeed! These panels will revolutionize how we consume energy. In fact, I dare say that it will bring an end to the race for renewable power.”

”I’ve read the reports—a mere three or four can power an entire city alone indefinitely.”

“Right you are,” said Uncle Marcus briskly. “Herlua Enterprises will be the world’s number one provider of clean, renewable power!”

Another crash of thunder rattled the platform, Aelia now being close enough to see the flash of orchid light. ”...You’re using magic to test their durability?”

“Ah, yes!” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to see if a sudden influx of magical power would overload them. I hired a...well...err, she’s a Mage, of course. She’s been very helpful, for the most part. Lots of fascinating data from that one.”

Aelia nodded. ”May I see her? I would like to know who I’m working with.”

Uncle Marcus shuffled about on the platform for a moment, but ultimately sighed. “I suppose you’ll meet her sooner or later. MISS RUSH! Hurry up and join us on the platform.”

“Ay ay, boss!” Came the vibrant voice from below, followed by the fast pounding of shoes on the metal platform’s stairs only moments later. Emerging at the top, having taken the steps two at a time, the athletic and tanned - plus slightly singed - girl that emerged offered the two a broad, lopsided grin.

“Boss,” She greeted, before turning dark glittering eyes to Aelia. “And ma’am. ‘Sup, doll?”

Aelia wrinkled her nose at the other woman’s dishevelled state, eying her from head-to-toe. When her uncle had spoke of hiring a mage, this was certainly not what she had expected. And did she just refer to her as “doll”? The disrespect!

”I am Aelia de Herlua, niece of your ‘boss’. You shall address me as ‘Miss Herlua’,” she said tersely. ”I understand it that you’re a Mage? From what family?”

The girl just tilted her head, curly dark hair bouncing in her ponytail, before of all things - she laughed. Laughed!

“Haha, whoops!” Was the flippant response, accompanied by another grin. “Sorry ‘bout that, doll - Miss Herlua,” She finally corrected, only to offer a flourishing bow.

It may have been slightly mocking, as well.

“Victoria Rush. Only mage in my family - well, obviously not the only mage, but the only one that can use it to any degree.”

”Dormants, then?” said Aelia, suppressing a sigh. ”Well, so long as you’re useful and show the proper respect, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Uncle Marcus was chewing on the edge of his blond moustache, glancing between them. Aelia hadn’t the slightest clue what he had been thinking when he had hired her—surely there were better options available to him? Or had he simply taken pity on her?

”Tell me, Miss Rush, what exactly is it that you do here?”

“Well, Miss Herlua, I am the Chief Durability Inspector.” Victoria leaned in, her next words a stage whisper. “I try my hardest to blow your Uncle’s machines up to bits.” A laugh bubbled up in her throat, and she waved a hand - what appeared to be orchid lightning dancing just beneath the skin of her arms.

“I don’t have much formal training, but I’m told I have a metric ton of raw power.”

Aelia nodded, observing the sparks dancing up the other woman’s arm. Not bad at all for someone completely untrained. ”And what have the results been thus far? How many have you successfully broken?”

Though, “success” might not be the best word to use, it was ultimately necessary to stress test their product. If it was performing inadequately, it was better to know now then when the inevitable deluge of complaints began flooding their offices.

“Eh, I think about a half dozen?” Seeing the unimpressed look on Aelia’s face, Victoria bristled. “Hey, I used to average a lot more per day, but the whole point is making them stronger!”

“Quite so,” interjected Uncle Marcus. “Our recent improvements have led to a marked increase in their overall durability in the face of kinetic and magical trauma, both of which Miss Rush specializes in unleashing.”

Aelia nodded in understanding. ”I’m glad to hear we’re making progress, then. I suppose you’re already working on the next iteration?”

“That we are! The final one, I’m hoping—I suspect even Miss Rush won’t be able to damage our completed product!” said Uncle Marcus, practically glowing in anticipation.

“Aw, boss, I hope you’re not that eager to get rid of me!” Victoria sighed dramatically, only to shrug and offer a grin. “He’s right though, I’ve only managed to completely destroy one of the panels this time - the others have only been partially damaged. Real sturdy stuff, there, ya should be proud of your family’s work.”

For the first time since had arrived here, Aelia permitted herself to smile. ”Of course. I would expect nothing less from seventeen hundred years of arcane knowledge!”

Aelia turned to stare out over the field of panels, raising a limp wrist to cover her mouth. ”Herlua Enterprises will forever change this world for the better, Miss Rush, have no doubt of that. With the energy crisis solved, hunger and disease are certain to follow! Soon, the entire world will sing the praises of the ancient House of Herlua! OOOHOHOHOHO!”

“... Haha, what the fuck, lady?”

"Jesus..." Bucky collapsed onto the ground, staring intently at the trail of blood that had followed his foe as he fell off of the building.

"We did it Buck... we..." Thinker collapsed onto the roof, gasping and staring at the sky.

"Yeah! Take that ya... ya fucking asshole." Bucky's wit had failed him after the long fight he'd just suffered through.

"Well, remember when we said we weren't gonna save the world or some shit?" Thinker asked, still breathing heavily. "Well we just fucking did it, maybe not the world or nothin', but we saved our lives, man."

"Yeah... hell fuckin' yeah."

---

"See the two uniforms on top of that building ahead? Those are your targets, Agent Wojownik."

Bang hung in the sky overlooking said building. There were in fact, two people standing on top. Apparently they were dangerous metahumans, and judging from the lightshow that had just been let off from around that area, intel was right in that regard.

"Yessir, that there looks like a pair of metahumans for certain."

"Remember Agent Wojownik, as much collateral as possible."

"'S what I do best!"

Bang dropped from the air and propelled himself toward the building, a bright yellow blur smashing into the building and sending a huge sound vibrating through the entire building.

"Hell of a fight you three, got the strength for a round two?"

Their faces appeared absolutely bewildered.

"W-wha-"

Thinker had a beam of nuclear energy shoot right through his abdomen, killing him instantly.

"Harry!"

Bang tapped his helmet in a bored manner.

"Oops, my mistake, thought he'd be stronger than that."

The other one, Harry's friend he guessed, looked pretty pissed, Bang guessed that Harry was pretty important to whatever anti-American things they were plotting. Just thinking about that pissed him off, but he'd be able to hurt him for daring to do such things to his country.

He slowly approached the man, taking lazy steps and heating the air around his fingers.

The man glared at him, and Bang saw just how furious he was; his teeth bared, his knees bent, he looked feral. Bang smiled, he was gonna get one hell of a fight.

"You son of a bitch... I'm gonna rip you to pieces!"

A neon image of a bear appeared behind the man's head as he charged. Bang would have wondered what that meant if the man's fist wasn't becoming acquainted with his visor. Bang was sent flying off of the building, noticing that the man had managed to crack the glass. That was new, he'd very rarely fought someone strong enough to do that. He noticed an eagle appear, just as the bear had, and swiftly the man began to pursue. Bang swiftly righted himself and moved to defend himself, only for the man to fly above him.

An image of a whale appeared behind him.

That was bad.

Immediately a massive weight slammed into Bang's stomach, sending him crashing through floor after floor of an apartment building, destroying furniture, carpetry, and staining his suit with what was either wine or animal blood.

He took his hand, heating it as hot as he could make it, then held it against the man's face. He screamed. Suddenly the weight on his stomach was gone.

He crashed into solid concrete.

Well, that should be enough collateral for now. Time to do the Lord's work.

He stood, spotting a now burned man about to dive onto him, and sped upwards, tackling the man and driving him into the air. He punched his face, then spun into a heel kick to the chin. He again spun, wrapping his legs around the man, and corkscrewed downwards, dragging the man with him. He released, and with one last spin, drove his helmet right into the man's skull.

The man's form crashed into a basketball hoop, flattening it, before bouncing into a nearby parked car.

Bang flew down, staring at the man's seated, brutalized, and very bloodied body. He gazed up at Bang, shaking and clearly almost dead.

"Thanks man, y'all have given me a real party."

He held his hand out, and blew up both the man and the car, watching the huge fire consume the air above.

"Excellent job Agent Wojownik. We have a number of other contracts available if you're willing to listen."

"I think I'm a good listener, lay 'em out."

"Excellent. Number one, 'the Demon', a strange creature sighted around West Virginia, which I am led to believe is your home. Number two, 'Watchdog', a vigilante on the same level as persons such as 'Grim' or 'the Question'. Views with alternate camera views suggest he gives off far different radiation from the usual, he has been active in Gotham, and we believe it is no coincidence that he became more active around the same time that billionaire Zoey Kasimir adopted a street child."

"Hmm... hunt the boogeyman, or beat up the rich and famous... I'mma have to think on that, HQ."

"Of course Agent Wojownik, we'll be in touch."

"Ding ding Miss Beadle!" A bright and cheery voice shouted, shocking Jessie out of her slumber. Glaring up blearily, the exhausted inventor picked out the floating form of the bright pink drone she called Amy.

"... Nu, g'way."

"Sorry Miss Beadle, but we all know how you get when we let you sleep in all day! Farnsworth is finishing up cleaning the lab, Hermes is ordering supplies to replenish stock, and Stabby is complaining about the radiator! Oh yeah, and you have an email from the guy with the bow!"

Jessie shot upright and rubbed her eyes before reaching for her lazily discarded clothes. "Start with that last one!"

After going through the email a couple times, and having Amy google where the fuck Primm was, Jessie bolted out of bed, yelling for her delivery drones to get ready.





Jessie slid her goggles down over her eyes, the HUD lighting up and highlighting every point of interest around her. Her three delivery drones, Amy strapped to the carrying case for the bow, a marker pointing in the direction of Primm, plus her other more mundane alerts. Phil and Rodriguez were attaching themselves to the case, and Leigh was setting herself up at the point to scout the road ahead and plan logistics, which meant that Jessie was just in for the ride. The long, 10 hour ride. She could have made it in less than half the time, but the drones wouldn't be able to keep up, and she wasn't about to carry that bow herself for almost five hours.

Lightning Bug stepped onto her hoverboard, shifting her weight slightly and turning to her robitic crew, catching the attention of the simple AIs. "Right guys, we have a fairly short haul ahead of us today, which is why I'm coming with. I want to be able to deliver this to our client and head back. Once we do the drop off though, we're parting ways. I may stay behind and sleep at the hotel, or I might zip back here ahead of you. If I do, you all know the drill. I don't mind a little nonsense on your way back, but don't cause too much trouble. And I'll be keeping Amy with me, in case I need to get in touch with anyone. Speaking of, Amy can you reply to that email and I'll dictate?"

A cheerful chirp answered Jessie's question, and she began to speak again. "I'm glad you're impressed!" She dictated while swiveling in place and floating upwards. With a wave of her hand she motioned her drones to start following, and the strange convoy began to take to the skies. "I do try to live up to my email address, and I suppose the bow's pretty cool as well. Winky emoji. I'm glad the Buster passed your test, I just threw it together in a few hours! If you have any problems with them getting past the code, I'm sure I can whip up something better.

"I'm having one of my assistants compile the notes on the bow now, I should have it ready for download by the time I deliver the bow itself. In way of a brief introduction though, allow me to introduce the MARAUDER Plasma-Caster. Based on a highly classified US experimental weapons project, the Caster is capable of firing devastating bolts of live plasma incredibly accurately over long distances. Because magnets. And plasma. I can answer your questions about it later. It charges using a bit of alien tech I've been experimenting with, but the rest of it is all mundane Earth technology, not even any magitech! (I mainly did it that way to prove a point, that regular tech is just as good as alien or enhanced.).

"I can meet you at your hotel tonight for the dropoff, probably around 9:30 to 10. I prefer rooftops as dead-drops, but regardless of where you'd like to make the handoff, security won't be a concern. I can make it look like we were never there. Thanks so much for everything you do, it's always hella fun when I see you streaming!"

With that message sent, Jessie could focus on the task ahead. Using Amy as a relay, the technopath could begin making connections in the distant city, using her time to find where Leo was staying, getting access to security footage, door codes, police radio bands, everything she could think of to help keep them under the radar. And anything to keep her busy during this trip so she didn't have to listen to the incessant bickering of Phil and Rodriguez until Leigh snapped at the both of them...

10 year old Daniel was playing in the backyard, throwing a tennis ball against the side of his house. His mom told him to play outside while she was on the phone. He could hear her yelling sometimes. Daniel kind of wanted to see his dad, but his mom said he had to go away. That made him feel sad.

"Hey, kid."

Daniel turn around quickly upon hearing the voice, but saw nobody in his backyard but him. He looked over into the woods at the edge of the yard, but could find nobody in the treeline.

"Up here."

Daniel looked up, seeing a gray cat on the roof of his house. It sat there, staring at him. Then it began to speak.

"What? You've never seen a talking cat before?"

Daniel stood in shock and awe at the cat for a moment, before responding.

"How are you talking?"

"I'm a magic cat, obviously. I can grant wishes too!"

"Really?!"

"Well, it depends on your wish. Do you have a wish?"

Daniel thinks for a moment. He just found a magic cat that grants wishes! What did he want most in the world? On cue, he could hear his mom yelling at the person on the other end of the phone. He was pretty sure it was his dad. Something happened that made his parents not like each other anymore.

"... I just want my mom and dad to be happy and like each other again."

The cat is silent for a few moments, seeming to consider his wish. This is probably the most intense moment in Daniel's life.

"... Your wish is a noble one. I can indeed grant it."

Daniel was overjoyed, jumping up and down in excitement. The cat hopped down from the roof and started walking towards the woods. Daniel was confused. The cat turned to him.

"Do you want your wish or not? C'mon, follow me!"

Daniel follows with no further hesitation, into the woods with the magical cat. After a few minutes of walking into the woods, the magic cat dashes forward out of sight. Daniel tries to keep up, but the cat's nowhere to be found.

"... Magic Talking Cat? Where'd you go?"

"Over here!"

Daniel follows the voice, leading him to the cat perched on a thick tree. Hanging from this tree is a single golden apple, hanging from a low branch close to the trunk.. The cat explains.

"There you are. Now, to grant your wish, you need to pick this golden apple. I'd get it for you, but then it wouldn't work."

Daniel gazes in awe at the apple, shining in the light. He begins to climb the tree, hugging it as tight as he can. He gets to the apple, and reaches out for it. The tree then pulls Daniel inside itself, it's texture going from hard and sturdy to soft and mushy. It closes around him, the cat and the apple likewise sinking into the tree, returning to being just another tree in the forest.

---

Daniel's mother, Rebbeca, hung up the phone in anger and frustration. That son of a bitch can take his whore and go, but he wasn't taking her son with them. The court agreed with her, and he needs to get over it. Once the divorce is finalized, she's taking Daniel and getting the hell out of this city. She heads outside and shouts out the door.

"Danny, you can come back inside now!"

There was no response. Rebecca stepped out into the backyard.

"... Danny?"

She looked around the yard, but her son was nowhere to be seen. She started to panic, but it was in vain. He was already gone.

"Daniel?! DANIEL?!"

---

The police had looked for Daniel in the surrounding woods, but he was nowhere to be found. It had gotten too dark to search any longer, so they'd given up the search for the night. Rebecca's ex-husband was currently being investigated. Rebecca herself was sitting alone at home, having cried her eyes out for hours. She wanted her son back.

"MOOOOOM!"

The shout echoed outside, and Rebecca perked up. She looked out into the backyard, seeing a small figure in at the treeline. She immediately ran outside.

"DANIEL!"

The boy screamed, being pulled back into the woods. Rebecca was startled for a second, but chased after him. She didn't worry about the dangers. She'd lost him for a moment. The forest was dark, lit only by the moonlight.

"DANIEL, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"MOMMY!"

She followed the voice, finding her son in the fetal position against a tree. She crouches besides him and hugs him, checking him for injuries. She's in tears.

"Daniel, oh my god! Are you hurt, baby?!"

The tree's branches twisted and turned, grabbing Rebecca. She was pulled into the trunk before she could resist, half-phased in. Her son started to giggle as the cells began eating her, and she watched as he stood up, a tree branch connected to his back. Daniel slowly morphed into another person entirely.

"... You know... I don't like to eat children like some sort of boogeyman. The taste isn't really... there, you know? Like wine. Needs time to mature."

Rebecca tried to scream, but the "tree" covered her mouth in it's bark. The cells ate away at her vocal chords next.

"And according to some 'research'... You're pushing on 70.
And when I first sniffed you out, I knew it wasn't some sort of age-defying trick. And from what my cells are telling me, you taste amazing,
just like your boy. You're something special."

Virus eats away at her body, assimilating her slower than anyone else he's eaten. She can't even cry in pain as she sinks slowly back into the tree.

"Don't worry, though. You'll see your son again. Soon."

Rebecca sinks into the tree, and after a few minutes of incomperable pain, she's no more.

Virus claims another.

Ya know, when most people have their offhand chatter about the Ancient City of Atlantis, and how it’s at the bottom of the goddamn ocean, they usually fail to grasp just how far down that really is.

Or how long it takes to get there by (sort of) conventional means.

A realization Malcolm passed the past twelve hours observing grow on the faces of the other passengers around him- All that joy and wonder of knowing they were about to step into a literal magical kingdom slowly starting to melt away into boredom, maybe tinged just a bit with trepidation at the thought that the only thing separating them from the crushing pressures outside was a thin layer of magitech and Atlantean steel that was beginning to smell just a liiiittle bit like farts.

...To be honest, it was the most fun Mal’d had all week- sitting there in this repurposed Atlantean Troop Carrier, shooting through the ocean at speeds that laughed directly in the face of physics as the surface knew it, laptop open, headphones on, little paper bagged lunch his Ma insisted on making him sitting unopened to his side. Sure, the air-scrubber stopped working sometime after they’d passed Bermuda (hence the smell) and that guy in the back who kept fake-whining ”Are we there yet?” stopped being funny four hours ago... But hey; the food was free. And it didn’t taste like airline food.

See? Silver linings.

It might have been just another long trip for someone like Malcom, having been woven into the rich Kasimir family, but just going down into Atlantis was the journey of a lifetime for Virgil. He had done some moderate exploring when he left to get some air, but it didn’t compare to going to the Sunken City itself.

Virgil himself was seated calmly, jamming out to some tunes to try and drown out the noises of the jokers and whiners. Between his fingers danced purple lightning, tapping against an invisible drum as he closed his eyes and took in the music. Maybe he’d talk to his good friend Mal whom he sat next to on the ride down, but Virgil didn’t want to be another source of annoyance on an already long flight.
”Hello.”

A thin young man stood over Malcolm. He scratched a hand through his blond hair, pushing a few strands out of his face. He nervously smiled, his eyes droopy in a way that seemed disconcerting, but there was this aura about him, something that everyone in the ride felt, but nobody quite understood.

”My name is Bjorn,” he said haltingly, clearly struggling with the English language. ”It’s nice to… meet, meet you. What’s your name?” he said, holding out a thin hand and smiling nervously.

Now, Malcolm wasn’t expecting that.

After the requisite swarming of people badgering him for selfies (as was the norm whenever he was in public) a few hours back, the scarred boy had been left largely to his own devices the whole way down to the bottom of the sea... Which may or may not have had something to do with the other boy seated next to him casually generating visible arcs of electricity with his fingers.

...Not that Mal wasn’t extraordinarily grateful for that mind you, but hey.

Still, pulling off his headphones and flashing a little grin, the Kasimir ward took the older boy’s offered hand and gave it a friendly shake.

”Malcolm. Good ta-”

Admittedly, before he actually got a look at who it belonged to. And felt an involuntary raise of the iconic ‘Kasimir Brow’ upon his own face.

”...Meet’cha.”

Odd.

He couldn’t rationalize in that moment, looking up at Bjorn through his glow-hiding contacts, but something just seemed… odd. Then again, he was also staring directly at and secretly through a person while sitting next to a living capacitor on a boat going to an ancient city on the bottom of the ocean, so he wasn’t exactly in any position to judge, he figured, and buried that feeling and the raised brow that went with it just as quickly as they’d appeared.

He did pick up on the accent though.

”Er du… Norsk?”

Bjorn’s eyes widened slightly, almost unnoticeably, but he quickly shifted into an excited smile.

”Ja! Jeg er fra Trondelag!” he said excitedly. <”You speak Norwegian?”>

A rhetorical question clearly, but it seemed to be more the shock of it than anything.

<”Not good enough to recite poetry, but I can hold a conversation.>” Malcolm responded with a widening grin as he gestured towards the unoccupied pair of seats directly across from Virgil and himself <”Please, by all means. Have a seat.”>

Bjorn nodded energetically, and then took the seat as offered.

Hearing some faint noise and a new person sitting right across from Mal and himself, Virgil pulled on his headphones and flashed the young man a smile. “I’m Virgil, glad shorty here is making some friends.” He felt like it would be too rude to simply put his headphones back on and go back to ignoring the world. With a hand shoved into his pocket, he paused his music and pulled his headphones down to he could engage in some actual conversation.

“So, what sort of stuff can you do? Everyone knows the king opened this place up as a way for Metas to be safe.” He didn’t really beat around the bush. With an open mind policy, Virgil felt like he didn’t need to hide his powers from the people here. His secret identity as Static Shock? Maybe, at least for now. He didn’t want people to start remembering where he was from and what he let happen.

Bjorn again had that open-eye expression for a second, but quickly began nodding.

”Well, it’s hard to show off in here but…” He began stretching his shoulder theatrically. Then he softly tapped the side of the troop carrier, leaving a small dent in the wall for what appeared to be basically no effort. ”I have super strength, I think that’s what it is called. I can lift really heavy things… I do not know the exact amount,” he said. Bjorn rested his hands behind his head and slouched into his seat.

”I cannot wait! Are you all as… er… excited? Yes, excited as I am?” he asked, smiling widely. He seemed happy to be able to talk to them. It was true that finding friends in a new place was difficult, but Bjorn seemed a little… overly excited.

Seeing the look on Bjorn’s face, again, Mal felt a strange tightness in some recess of his psyche he couldn’t quite narrow down and again, he forced it down before it could show on his face.

’...What the hell is that?’

”Well… yeah.” The boy answered without missing a beat or dropping the charm ”The Atlanteans are basically the be-all end-all for advanced sciences on this planet, so for a guy like me, this is basically Mecca-”

The teen paused mid-sentence, eyes darting off to the side suddenly… before that grin of his came back in full force.

”...Speakin’ of; you guys might wanna look out the window.”

For there, rising up on what passed for a horizon on the shadowy floor of the sea, was the shining light of a civilization that stood defiant and resilient for countless millennia.

Poseidonis.

---

University of Poseidonis

When was moving around like this going to feel natural to her again?

It felt like her every movement was hopelessly encumbered by some invisible force—oh right, gravity. That was a thing, and for the first time in more than half a year she was feeling it’s strength again. When, exactly, was the last time she had transformed back into her human form?

Oh, right...the end of highschool, just before summer. With highschool over, there had been no need to ever turn back again, at least, not until now.

Awkwardly walking past a group of other kids on their way to orientation, she was unsurprised their odd glances—she was moving like she was underwater. Well, she technically was, but…

”Ugh, I hate being human,” she muttered to herself. ”One wrong step and I could trip and break a knee, or a few dozen other important bones.”

She glanced up at the beautiful orientation hall that towered over her. It was honestly like something out of a science fiction movie, a comparison that could be applied to all of Atlantis. She could only wonder what the interior would be like, or her dorm room for that matter.

It had been a while since she had actually slept.

Virgil would never cease to be amazed at his new environment. Everything about Atlantis was spectacular. He couldn’t wait to roam around and find all of the cools nooks and crannies of both the school and Atlantis itself.

For now, however, he had orientation to get to. This was the very first class of the college, and Virgil was honored to be apart of it all. Had it not been full-ride, he wouldn’t have taken the offer to come, but it was everything he needed and so much more.

It was here that he noticed a young woman seeming to struggle with simply walking on the ground below them. Virgil wasn’t going to lie to himself, getting used to being so far underwater was a slight challenge, but she seemed to have actual difficulty with just walking.

“Um, are you okay? You need some help?” He sped up to walk next to her, his arms out in front of him, offering them if she so desired to take them.

Karen turned to see a young black man. She offered him a smile that did little to hide her embarrassment at her current state. ”Ah...thanks, but I’m alright. It was just a rough trip here. Still shaking it off.”

She was dressed rather simply and unfashionably—a jersey with the number seven on it, a pair of black sweatpants, and white tennis shoes. They were the only clothes she had that still really fit her in the chest and hips. She’d apparently been doing some growing in those eight or so months.

Virgil shot her a smile and waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, long way down, right?” He could certainly understand that. His legs were a little shaky when he first got up after the long trip down here, it was no surprise that others were feeling it as well. “I’m Virgil, by the way. Are you here for superhero school, too?”

He felt like it was only right to introduce himself to as many people as he could. Wherever Mal was, maybe he could meet this lady as well, the both of them certainly needed friends, most likely being the youngest two in the college.

”Karen. Actually, I’m here for the non-superheroic parts of the school,” said Karen, chuckling. After all, the whole point of this was to get some down time from her life as Lady Arcana. Malcolm probably wouldn’t be happy with her learning to be as superhero as Karen.

Then again, she’d taken basically every course on magic that was available here, so perhaps she was also violating the spirit of her attendance.

Walking this far with Mal in his mind, Virgil turned to look for him. Mal was only a year younger, but it felt to Virgil like a world of difference. It seemed strange to Mal, maybe he’d have to talk to him a bit later…

If he could find him.

The last of the students aboard the RAS Nautilus were finally done disembarking, waved towards the gleaming Orientation Hall in the distance with warnings that King Orin would be addressing them soon enough. A few wobbled in their hurried steps to get there, glad to just have their feet back on solid ground. For one of them, the thought kept bounding around that solid though the ground might be, it was in very unfamiliar territory.

All around them was strange architecture, gleaming and golden, right out of any fantasy novel about the place. The people, so similar yet so different. The very horizon - no longer bright sun cresting on distant land but just glimmering water forming a wall, their very roof.

Like a cage.

To say that Hannah Christophe was having some trouble with the adjustments was a bit of an understatement.

It’s not that she wasn’t excited, she was! It’s just, well, the Hub City resident only left state lines a number of times, and now she was in the middle of the ocean, who knows how deep, and surrounded by strangers not only in acquaintance but very culture.

It didn’t exactly help that Hannah was a very, very nervous person in the first place. So it was that on feeling her racing heart start to go from excitement to genuine terror, the feeling of the very air in her throat becoming heavy, the young woman had stumbled off away from the others going towards the Orientation Hall just to catch a breather. Yet when she had passed a pale hand over her eyes, seeing a flicker of orchid light dancing beneath her clammy palm it made her chest tighten, a feeling of dread settling in her bones and buzzing akin to a sleeping limb.

“Oh lord,” The brunette whimpered, sliding down against the wall she had ducked behind to hide. “What was I thinking?” Her fingers quickly tangled in her hair as she leaned forward, trying to control her breathing in a familiar exercise and failing miserably as each breath rattled and hiccuped through her thin frame.

”Uhh… hi.” Came a somewhat hushed, slightly alarmed voice from beside her.

One belonging to a Mr. Malcolm Talhaiarn-Kasimir, who had already been hiding behind this particular wall when the hyperventilating girl had arrived, in the middle of trying to covertly adjust one of the contact lenses that hid the distinctive glow of his peepers that had been knocked slightly off-center by a falling bag as the Nautilus shook under the force of the docking clamps.

...Which went some way to explaining the ludicrous sight of Gotham’s favourite son frozen stock still and staring down at her in his suit and tie while seemingly of poking himself in the eye for some reason.

’Shit, that was close...’ The boy mused internally with a breath of relief, realizing this girl was too in her own head at the moment to have seen anything he’d have to explain. Even as he knelt down to check on her wiping his hands off on his jacket.

”Hey, uhh... are you alright?”

For a moment the girl remained frozen, head tilted just enough to stare up at Malcolm with wide, doe-like eyes. When she finally reacted it was with a rather pathetic, very delayed yelp.

”I’m - I’m so sorry I-” Another hiccup as the breath in Hannah’s voice caught, making the anxious weight dead in her stomach twist uncomfortably. ”I was just - oh, and you’re - you’re Malcolm Talha-” Yet again her words got cut off as her throat didn’t seem to want to cooperate, refusing to let the brunette get more than a few words out at a time. She nearly whimpered, burying her face back into her sweatered arms across her knees. Four seconds breathe in. Four seconds out. In. Out.

She must look pathetic.

The thought didn’t help.

And there went a good chunk of what Mal had absorbed through mitosis from his Ma, thundering in the back of his head and forcing his back to the same wall as the distraught girl and his ass plop down right next to hers.

”Hey, hey, hey… easy now…” The boy’s words left his throat, a fair bit more gentle than most would think him capable of after hearing of his famed wit as his hand lightly moved itself on instinct towards the girl’s shoulder ”...What’s wrong?”

”I’m sorry,” Once more came the low, piteous voice, muffled against her arms. Luckily she was calming just a touch, enough that she was able to form complete sentences with … less interruptions, at least. Having someone also from the surface was comforting. She hoped that wasn’t racist. ”I’m just - a little overwhelmed. Right now. I mean.” A deep breath once more as Hannah fought the urge to ramble, a trait her and her brother shared.

Well, before he disappeared.

Finally the girl lifted her head, fingers plucking at the material of her cream sweater. She still had a chill and was trembling lightly, breath lightly hitched. ”I’ve - I’ve never even left America. And, it’s my first time away from family. And I’m learning about magic.” She trailed off, finally lifting her gaze to Malcolm’s and offering him a watery smile. Her eyes remained fixed on his chin, never quite meeting his own in a nervous tick.

”... Well, somewhat. I’m … majoring in magical theory.”

So much for not rambling.

Mal let out a little chuckle at that, letting his hand fall off her shoulder and comfortably back onto his knee.

”Yeah, I hear ya on that.” The lad replied with an honest grin and a little shake of his head, unconsciously slipping back into his native accent as he went ”Sounds kinda like a comic book when ya say it out loud, dunnit?”

Still grinning, the boy’s face turned away from the girl, making a dramatic show of looking about the place with a comically philosophical expression he’d hoped she’d find amusing.

”Yet, here we are. In a big golden city at the bottom of the ocean.” He finished with a theatrical wave of his arm, looking back to the girl and raising that famous Kasimir brow, still smirking just a little. ”I don’t blame ya. Ye’d have to be crazy not to be a little overwhelmed about that.”

It seemed to work, since Hannah let out a laugh, coughing near the end. After rubbing her sleeve against her mouth she finally gave Malcolm a smile, accompanied by one last rattling breath.

”I… suppose you’re right about that. It seems, well, it seems a little silly to be freaking out this bad when no one else is…” She trailed off, embarrassment coloring her words. It was obvious she wasn’t that quickly recovered, no one would be, but was doing a good job of at least hiding the remaining symptoms in conversation. ”Uhm, I didn’t introduce myself. Not that I, you know, had the chance -- my name is Hannah Christophe.” Taking a moment to wipe her clammy hand subtly on her skirt she then offered it to her surprise company.

”I, ah, know who you are, of course… I really admire your work.”

”Oof! Take the fun outta introducing myself, why don’cha?”

Mal replied with a slight snort and another shake of his head, still clearly grinning to let Hannah know he was still joking around. She smiled right back, replying with a quiet ‘Sorry!’ that was more casual than her previous apologies.

”Well, good ta meet’cha, Hannah.” The scarred teenager said after a moment as he offered her his hand ”...And you can just call me ‘Mal’.”

For a slight second, the boy’s eyes shifted suddenly slightly. As if looking at something past Hannah directly through her head and another wall before coming back into focus on her again.

Just in time for the loud chorus of chatter and footsteps to start reverberating through their hallway once more. It was a bit unnerving for her.

”Well. I think we might’ve missed Ol’ Uncle Ori’s big welcome speech…” Mal concluded with a shrug ”Gueeeess we better get a move on, eh?”

”Oh no!” The girl exclaimed, and was soon scrambling up. Hannah had to pause as blood rushed to her head, already dizzy from the small panic attack earlier, and lifted a hand to press slim fingers to her temple. ”I’m really sorry for delaying us,” She lamented, apologizing yet again. It seemed to almost be a reflex.

”But it’s a momentous occasion… maybe it was recorded?” Hannah shook herself, looking to Malcolm and giving him a small smile. ”I … really appreciate you not just walking away though. It helped having someone familiar nearby. Not that - not that I’d say we’re familiar with each other! Just that I knew who you were and it was helpful, though not because - I’m going to be quiet now.”

Malcolm could only stare at the flustered girl beside for a few short seconds in silence as she started rambling again… then started smirking… and finally snickering as he waved off her apologies with a dismissive hand as he got to his feet.

”Dun’ worry about it, Hannah.” He assured her, making a point of being as casual and familiar as possible still not losing his infamous grin as stood and offered her a hand up. ”I was glad to be here.”

Metropolis National Park
January 27, 12:14

The sun shone high above the peaks of Metropolis' National Parks mountains, leaving a clear sky that was accompanied by a cold chill. Ricky wore a thin coat even though he felt perfectly fine, it was just that with the temperature being what it was he didn't want anyone asking any questions. His glasses were thick rimmed and did a good job of masking his identity, especially prudent after his somewhat misjudged declaration of war on crime recently. Almost immediately after he had stopped the bank heist and told all of Metropolis' criminal element to watch their backs, his mother phoned him in a panic. "What are you doing?! You're going to get yourself hurt!" Before he could even explain himself he found the phone hung up, his mother clear not interested in his excuses. It wasn't until a few days later he managed to get her to listen and she reluctantly admitted that she knew the day would come where he would take up the mantle of protector to the people of the world. That didn't mean she was any less concerned about her boy.

"Rick have you checked on the Northern tower yet?" The voice came from a radio speaker pinned to the young mans jacket. He reached down and raised it to his mouth to respond. "I'm just on my way over now Carl, i'll be about ten minutes." An audible ground came from the other end before a rather stressed Carl began to scold Ricky. "Look...I know you got a degree and everything but these maintenance checks are just as important as looking after the wildlife. Get your ass there now and do your damn checks." The other end went dead leaving Ricky to roll his eyes in frustration. Carl had been tough on him since day one but only because he took his job seriously, having been around for years he had seen everything and knew what was important and what wasn't. Begrudgingly Ricky started his jeep and made his way to the north tower.

The metal structure towered above the nearby trees allowing for a wide view over the majority of the park. The next couple of hours would be taken up by visual checks on the structure along with ensuring it's generator and various bits of equipment were all in working order. It was a paintstaking task and something that he could realistically do in a few minutes but he liked to keep himself grounded and appreciative of what normal humans had to do. As such he would do things exactly like anyone else would and that meant he would be there for the following two and a half hours.

René picked up his third pint from the bar. He'd been waiting on Chas for some time now and it was already dark outside. Even with all of the capes running about Gotham was still a dangerous city at times. The longer he waited could be the difference between a late night stroll and a nighttime mugging.

René took a swig of his drink.

It wasn't as though he couldn't handle himself- but he was old and the thought of fighting a younger man didn't sound like a fair fight. He was past his prime and thanks to age it was unlikely that his body would heal properly from any kind of hard beating..

He took another swig..

He wasn't Chas, he never was. That man was a monster in his youth... as well as an idiot. Age could make him weaker, but it couldn't touch his violent and daring nature to square up against anybody. Even to muggers and crooks.

And then another...

Chas couldn't be lying in an alleyway someplace, battered and bruised... could he?

René brought the glass to his lips, failing to notice before that its contents were empty.

He ordered another pint.



“Sorry I’m late Arnie, but you know how life is.”

The speaker took up the seat beside René, leaning on the counter as he moved. Chas was a man in his early 50s, he was a few good years younger than René and without the grey hair- or any hair for that matter.

“Late doesn’t cut it Chas, I’ve been here for a good quarter of a day wondering why I hadn’t already left.”

“No, no you’re right. I’ll make it up to you. A drink on me.” He gestures to the barman.

“Make it three.” René states once his next drink arrives.

“I’m good for one.”

René sighs then downs half of the beverage in a few gulps. Chas waits impatiently, tapping his knee as he waits.

“So what do y-”

“I have a proposition to make.”

“You could have waited for me to finish.”

“I could have, but we both know I wouldn’t.”

“Chas I haven’t seen you in half a decade, what makes you think that my impression of you is still up to date? Hell what am I saying, you haven’t changed since the eighties.”

Chas doesn’t respond to the remark. Instead, he continues to tap on his kneecap.

“Fine. What are you thinking of?” René asks dubiously before reuniting the pint with his lips.

“It’s pretty simple. I want you back in the game.”

René pauses before placing the pint on the counter again.

“I thought you said that you’d moved away from that kind of work.”

Chas’ eyebrows in confusion to the remark. “Really? When?”

“Eight years ago. At your house.”

“How am I supposed to remember what happened eight years ago?”

“God Chas, Vanessa was there. You lied to your own wife. Does she know you still do this?”

“She’d kick me out if she knew Arnie..” He sighs, “Look I have bills to pay and now a kid to feed.”

“Since when did you have kids?” Now it was René’s turn to be confused.

“Three years ago.” Chas sighs, “We definitely need to catch up on lost time and all, but I’d rather have your response to my idea..”

“No Chas. I moved on from the gang and what we stood for, what we did.” René stands up, “Thanks for the drink but I should be going.”

René begins to head out of the bar he gets as far as donning his overcoat before Chas, still seated, perks up with a response of his own. “Well that’s too bad. I was hoping that we could settle this like friends, but I guess you’ve locked the crook away and forgotten all about him.”

“What are you talking about?”

Chas doesn’t bother to answer and instead he continues his monologue, “We did a number on quite a few people Arnie. You can forget about it and play Doctor but those people, their families, they won’t forget what you did to them.”

“What we did to them Chas.” René corrects him.

“Same thing really.” Chas stands up from his seat. “Now if you don’t want me to reveal all of this to the poor, poor widows and children of who we hurt, then I recommend that you reconsider.”

“Blackmail? Jesus Chas you’ve fallen to a new low.”

“It’s not like I’ll suffer if this comes out anyway. I know a few people who can erase me from the web.” Chas wiggles his fingers to emphasise this point, “In less than a day Chas can die and a new man can live, do I look like a Bernie to you? I feel like a Bernie.” he rambles.

René stares at Chas, no longer seeing a lifelong friend but instead an associate, one he’d be glad to be rid of.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” teases Chas.

“I’m in.”

Chas nods. “Perfect. Then I’d better introduce you to the gang, soon as well. We only have two weeks till the fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” asks René.

“It’s a figure of speech.”

She was so close now. She'd gotten the cop to talk, just a few needles under the nails did that well enough. He'd given her the phone no problem after that.

The contacts list was barren, it was clearly a work phone. There was one message from an unlabelled number. It read "Target address 34 Jury Street, be Discreet. Delete this message."

Clearly he hadn't.

That suggested a failure to comply.

Sure enough, the tenant of said building was in heavy debt to a certain Fisher Brown, a well known loan shark and magitech dealer. It was all coming together. Brown was also the owner of the Angel Nightclub, a less than reputable joint that the cops stayed away from unless they were coming in for their monthly "child support payments".

Or at least that's what they called it when they showed up late the next day. "Had to pay child support" they all said, and it worked because every man in that place was as nice to a woman as a dog is to a man whose flesh had been replaced with bacon.

That was a strange simile. Maybe she needed to get more sleep.

Nah, she had to finish what she started first.

She pushed open the doors, having already given the bouncers a firm talking to.

The music was rather... dark. Parties weren't supposed to sound so... dangerous.

The place was filled to the brim and about to burst. People were knocking each-other around in their alcohol fueled stupor and that was funny.

Alias would have laughed, promise, but she was more focused on the task at hand.

Where was the manager's office now? That would be grand to find.

Real fucking grand right about now.

"Hey."

A voice from the crowd.

"Here."

An object shoved into her hand.

"I know what you're here for, I'll keep in touch."

Very interesting.

She walked around a bit longer, failing to find the office in the huge crowd, dropping her crowbar and almost losing it as feet kicked and stomped around.

Then the object in her hand made a noise. Walkie talkie it seemed. That was a funny name... walkie... talkie... heh, hehe.

"Hello Miss Needles."

"Mister Brown."

"Please, Mister Brown was my uncle, call me Mister Fisher, has a better ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Funny, I don't recall coming here for rhymes."

"Oho, how droll, you think you know why you came here."

He laughed, a rodenty snicker.

"Tell me then, why did you torture my informant, steal my ex-employee's phone, and talk to one of my mistakes?"

"You're a murderer, a scumbag, and you deserve to die for what you've done."

"Oh god I felt that, you're one badass lady, aren't you? Well, I suppose I can't just leave you in the dark. You, through a murder investigation, have stumbled upon one hell of a conspiracy."

"What?"

"A conspiracy, get your ears checked. My best friend is trying to take over the world."

"Excuse me?"

"Goddamn lady, drop your cochlear?"

"You can-... you can't drop a-"

"Anyway, I'm telling you this because I'd rather not not take it over myself. I mean, not that I wanted to, but if someone's gonna do it, it'll be me. If you get a key to the whole planet put on your lap, you're not gonna... not do it are you?"

Alias didn't know how to respond to that.

"So turns out I'm a wizard of some kind, crazy shit. My friend is also a wizard, he taught me this thing called alchemy, fucking nutso my bro... sis. Anyway I made this pill, magic and chemicals equally, based on that thing that happened in New York I think it was. Nutso, nutso. So I roofied pretty much everyone in that room you're in right now. Should start happening any second now, nobody's immune, nobody, my man even says it'll work on Lady fuckin' Arcana. Something about chaos magic, whatever, not important, what is important, my lady, is that in a few seconds you're gonna start smelling blood. Have fun!"

She did indeed start smelling blood. A man was beating on another, then his friend started beating on him. Not even a blink later and there was an orgy of violence beginning.

"...Motherfuck."

A man screamed behind her, and she swiftly turned to spot him lunging forward, mouth wide open and eyes filmed over. She struck him with her crowbar twice in a matter of seconds, then tripped him with an easy leg sweep, finishing by driving his head into the floor below.

Alias watched in horror as at least a hundred eyes turned to look at her. Swiftly a number of the men and women began to lunge. Alias drew her pistol and planted a shot into a woman's leg, dropping her to the ground. Smacking a man across the nose with the crowbar, she held it around his throat and pulled back, holding him as she shot a further two down. She yanked the crowbar rightwards, driving the prying hook right into the man's neck.

She took her first hit from the side, colliding with her temple and being powerful enough that she had to check to see if her eye was still there. She answered with one of her own right to the man's throat, sending him to the ground choking. A chair shattered against her spine, then a heavy object hit her in the back of the head. A bullet ripped through her side, and she went down.

The blows rained down for what felt like forever. The pain was everywhere, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, all she could do was smell, smell her own blood and vomit.

Finally forever ended. The blows ended. Alias laid on the ground in a puddle of blood, unmoving, barely breathing.

She gasped and whimpered as she pushed herself to her feet. She tasted blood, so much blood, and also a bit of salt. Maybe it was tears, maybe it was sweat, who gave a damn.

She didn't know why she was alive, but she had to thank Allah for the good fortune. Well, thank him when she wasn't coughing out enough blood to fill a swimming pool.

She limped her way to the door, only falling once or twice. The anticipation in her body built as she closed with the sunlight, and when she met the door, it was too much for her. Her legs gave out, and she tumbled right through, down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.

She gasped for air as blood ran down her ruined jacket.

Well, that went well.

Now what the fuck was she supposed to do.

...

...

Goddammit she could only think of one thing.

She hated that one thing.

The pain in her everything convinced her though, and she tugged her now mostly smashed phone out of her pocket with a moan.

She opened contacts as she bled on the ground, and stared at that name.

She felt her thumb begging to touch it, but her mind refused. All because of that name.

Oscar.

??? // ???
??? // ???

She awoke. A dissonance sat around her like a fog, thick and unyielding as her eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom of her room. The slow turn of her head was meant to bring things into focus, but instead everything seemed more of a blur, more out of focus. Walls she had been familiar with for the last couple years looked the opposite. It was all a blur and she couldn't quite grasp as to why. More pressing, there was this strange coldness about her, something that sat deep and pierced to the marrow. Each movement felt numb and far away like swimming through ice water.

Eventually she managed to swing her legs out of bed, pushing aside the heavy covers and starting to stand. Yet she did not. With a painful slowness, the moment her feet hit the floor and she began to put herself upright, she fell forward. That impact at least managed to jar her from the worst of the fog, knocking the breath from her lungs and jolting her into a higher state of wakefulness. Fingers splayed against the carpet, Verra worked to put them underneath herself and steadily push up, taking a long moment to once more gain some sense of verticality and find a sitting position. Everything felt so odd to her, as if she was just an observer in her own body. Yet… There was a distinct ache from where she had fallen.

Once she had found her footing she thought nothing of the strangeness of her surroundings, dismissing it as some strange post-sleep weariness. Step after step she brought herself towards the door, vaguely adjusting her sleepwear into something moderately presentable and ensuring nothing was showing that shouldn't be. Her hand settled on the doorknob and started to turn. It was warm… More than that actually, she winced as the more she turned the warmer it became until it was searing hot. Letting go she took a step back, staring down at her hand as steam rose from her burnt skin. Now she began to get the feeling that things were not right, as she should have already started to heal from such a minor wound as that. In fact, normally she wouldn't have even been feeling the pain of it this long afterwards, yet as she stood there and worked through just how strange this all was… It still throbbed angry and red, the ache pulsing up her arm.

Things were very much not right, and the moment she felt that first small oddity, other small pieces began to stand out. The walls were just a shade off from what she knew they should be, patterns winding through in the differences of hue and seeming to ripple the longer she stared. A soft glow from her desk brought her attention to the clock, which every time she seemed to glance over displayed a different time, and not in the expected sequential order. One moment it said six in the morning, the next eight in the evening, and again at a completely different time. Her breathing became shallow as she started to realize she had to still be asleep, mild panic starting to seize hold.

This was not the first time she had such a dream, though it was since the last memory of her previous life faded. As if summoned by her thoughts on such things, those memories flooded back with sudden clarity. An entire lifetime lived in a reality that no longer existed, she felt the room heaving and twisting about itself, soft blues of the wallpaper of her dorm room melding with a darker red. She willed it to stop, to undo this and go back, but all she managed to achieve was to halt it in the midst of everything. The room remained in a mixture of past and future, an abomination of the merged lifetimes struggling to assert domination over each other. Alone in the center of what was becoming an undulating mass of temporal instability, Verra could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest and control slipping from her.

Then it all stopped for one singular moment that dragged on forever. Complete stillness surrounded her, and she felt her blood run cold. Drums sounded from all around her, distant yet close, and in a steady pattern that inspired her to move in an attempt to get away from them. Once more she pressed her hand against the doorknob, uncaring of the searing pain from the metal, wanting only to get out of this room. Each turn as before brought it closer to molten, but more of her concern was the growing darkness that spread from the window opposite. Tendrils of black seeped into the walls, poisoning the crumbling reality of the dream and seeking her out as the sole point of stability.

Finally with a panicked gasp, she yanked the door open.

---

Metropolis National Park
January 29th, 03:26

"Wh-what."

As she stepped through the open door, she felt cold air. It was… Strangely fresh, clean and pure. Her eyes struggled to adapt from the light coming down on her from above, a hand coming up to cover that spot high in the sky that shone down. With a sluggishness that was incredibly unfamiliar to the speedster, and quite uncomfortable to say the least, she worked to get her bearings. First and foremost, her other hand went to her neck, fingers grasping around the necklace that she had dearly hoped was still there. Step one done, she still had her suit with her, and if things went bad she had a way out. That was assuming she could determine where it was that she was, and what she was getting out of. Her eyes began to adjust to the rather jarring shift in perspective, picking out green in front of her. A lot of green actually. As she gained more and more awareness, she discovered that there really was a lot of green around her.

Bare feet dug lightly into soil and grass, and she looked down to find that the reason for that was really quite simple. She was in a forest somewhere, her right hand falling a little and her focus shifting to take in the clear skies. The moon was high and at its first quarter, stars shining among familiar constellations.

Then two very distinct things came to her attention. First was that she was out in the middle of a forest somewhere in only her pajamas. Second… She had obviously run there, and done so a little too fast. Behind her was the smell of a fire consuming cloth, and her lips creased in a frown as there was her blanket laying in the grass. It was the source of the fire, friction burns across the fabric of it as she must have had it wrapped around her during her sleep-run.

"That one was my favorite too."

All that was left to her was to figure out a bit of a more concrete idea on just where she had run off to, and preferably at some point soon.

1:00 AM, January 2nd, 2026
Gotham City Police Department

Jason was bored.

He paced in Jasper's office for a few long moments, listening to the bustling noises out in the main office. The police commissioner had stepped out to deal with the massive crime wave hitting the city, which Jason had been relieved to find out was not the norm for this new universe. Apparently it wasn't a turf war between rival gangs, as he'd originally assumed, but some kind of fucked up recruitment ceremony for an anarchist group. Known for their violent and chaotic tendencies, and their pale-faced crazy leader who Jason had a very bad nagging feeling about, the Angels currently had the upper east side of the city in a stranglehold.

Jason made up his mind.

Digging into his backpack, Jason pulled out his bandanna and tied it around his jaw before digging back into his pack and pulling out a small acrylic tank. He set it gently on the desk and peered inside, waving at the wide reptilian eyes and the concerned-but-perpetually-smiling face of his pretty little leopard gecko, Ellie. "I'll be back soon, kiddo." He said softly, scribbling a note for Jaina. "But don't worry; we're safe now." With the note asking she take care of the lizard until he got back, Turn Back slipped to the window and climbed out onto the fire escape.

Clambering over the railing, Jason leapt into the darkness, grinning as he felt the wind rushing past his face as he fell. A moment later the pavement met his feet, and Turn Back inhaled sharply as the impact rushed into his body, the energy being absorbed and distributed throughout him with no actual injury. Taking off down the alley, Turn Back laughed sharply as he began to let loose. He'd spent so long in Umbra's shadow hiding and being quiet, it was phenominal to actually use his abilities. Reabsorbing his spent energy with each stride, Turn Back could keep up a sprinting pace nearly indefinitely, which would place him in the upper east side in less than a quarter hour...



The place was practically a series of fires by the time Turn Back arrived. Sprinting onto the scene, he stopped by one of the tipped over garbage fires and knelt beside it, pulling off his right glove and placing his hand inside the smouldering ashes. He grinned as he felt the heat rising from the flames before it was suddenly snuffed out, every bit of heat being drawn into Turn Back. Now, with a decent charge of energy built up, he felt ready to dive in. It took only a moment of searching before the barely-costumed vigilante found a group of Angels. He could head shouting and gunshots nearby, he'd have to check that out in a moment. But for now, he could deal with these bozos, who seemed to be standing guard to make sure nobody tried to run away from the carnage.

Pulling a rubber band from his pocket, Turn Back slipped it around his finger and pulled it back, aiming the improvised projectile at the nearest thug. A burst of orange energy and the band was charged with energy, and he sent the band flying. It struck with a harsh popping noise, a burst of flame erupting on the Angel's shoulder. His screaming alerted the others, who turned and saw Turn Back pull his cane out of his other pocket, flicking his wrist and extending the tool to its full length. A blast of purple energy now, and the cane was charged with kinetic energy. Rushing in, TB didn't even bother dodging the flying fists and lead pipes coming his way, his attackers finding themselves ineffectual and oddly weakened against their new foe.

CRACK

One of the thugs fell to the pavement, the fight knocked out of him as the enhanced blow nearly snapped his neck. Turn Back grinned. This was going to be easy

Coast City, California
11:00 am
[VR]cade lobby

Beka sighs and fiddles with her desktop monitor. The doors are unlocked, the signs are lit; the arcade is officially open and that means Beka is bored. "Nobody shows up early mornings for a vr session why dont we open at like two o clock?" Beka sifts through the emails on the screen in front of her. As she knew would be the case, there are no booked rooms until later in the afternoon so she is on her own until someone decides to stop in and check the place out. She shoots a text to Jessie.

To: Bedbug<3
HEY YOU UP??? WHY AM I OPENING ALONE

Beka steps out from behind the counter and stretches, her wings extending slightly as her shoulders pop with the motion. Guess if i am going to be stuck here, i might as well make the best of it. She grabs the remote for the stores stereo system and finds the Alternative Pandora station. Dropping to the ground Beka begins a set of pushups, folding her wings tight against her back to reduce their resistance. She counts as she pushes off the floor, moving from two-handed to one handed sets. "Hopefully someone will come in soon, or Jessie has an errand for me or something. I really need a good bit of excercise. Can't get soft now." She huffs and continues with her work.

Orin stepped up onto the stage overlooking the orientation hall. He smiled as he saw the student body milling about and finding their seats. He recognized many of the faces in attendance today, but there were many more that were unfamiliar to him. New students, ones from the surface. People eager to learn and expand their horizons. It was a beautiful sight to him. Slipping on the in-ear microphone, Orin stepped to the front of the stage and held up a hand. Immediately, the Atlantean student body quieted down, sinking into their seats and paying attention to the king. The foreign students took a moment longer, obviously unsure of the customs and traditions, but Orin forgave them that. This was meant to be a learning experience after all. Once everyone had found a seat, Orin smiled and began to speak.

”Well… I must say, I’m very pleased with the turnout this year!” He said, dropping his hand and taking a moment to let the few stragglers begin to pay attention.

”Many of you know me, but I am aware that there is a significant portion of you who have likely never seen me before, so allow me to introduce myself. My name is Orin. I am the ruler of Atlantis, the guardian of the seas, and the king of my people. Some of you may know me as Aquaman.” She said, flashing a patented grin as he began to pace the stage.

”It is my genuine honor to welcome you all here, both my native students and our transfers. I will keep this brief, as I know many of you had long trips to get here. I simply want to extend a warm welcome, not just from myself, but from the united people of Atlantis.” That was important. He had to make sure they all knew, Atlantis was not at war with itself. Not anymore. And with any luck, it never would be again.

”For our new students, who come here from far away, I want to extend a special welcome. I’m sure you’ve read about our programs, our culture, our history. But it is another thing entirely to experience it. And believe me, I want you to experience it. This is not simply a school for the gifted. It is a haven for the oppressed of the world. A repository of knowledge. I want this place to be a light to mankind, a new Library of Alexandria.” That had stung, reading about the burning of the great Library. Of course, many of those texts had copies here in the city, but that had gone a long way to explain why the world at large was so set back.

”Let me be clear with all of you. Some of your classmates, roommates, teachers, and staff may be… Different than you might expect. Metahumans, Mages, geniuses, and all other types of gifted individuals have a home here. I want you to know we do not tolerate any kind of discrimination. If you take issue with someone, please ensure it is not simply due to their genetics. But I digress, this is a mission statement, not a syllabus reading.” Orin said with a soft smile before taking a deep breath to categorize his thoughts.

”I believe in the goodness of all mankind. That everyone has a spark inside of them. Everyone wants to save the world. Some may be more capable of that than others, but everybody can save the world. However, and I need you all to listen closely to me; the world looks different to each person. It may be bigger or smaller. Sometimes saving your world can mean saving only one person. And sometimes, that one person may be yourself. This course will be difficult for many of you. Especially those from the surface. The culture shock, the language barriers, the new knowledge and information, it may be altogether too much. If it is… save yourself. Take a break. There is no shame in needing some space. Your teachers and staff will be looking out for you. We are all on your side.”

Orin paused again, smiling kindly at the gathered student body. Time to wrap it up, and give the nice incentive. ”And trust me, I will be keeping an eye on your progress as well, all of you. In fact, I have decided that once per week, I will choose a selection of exemplary students to come to my home and spend a day out of the classrooms, doing whatever they may wish with the Royal amenities. Think of it as a bit of a reward. Well, that’s all I have to say on the matter, except… Good luck, all of you. I look forward to seeing you save the world.”

Karen quickly joined the crowd in applauding for her friend, Orin. They had fought together for more than five years at this point, and she was happy to see that he now felt that Atlantis was stable enough to allow foreign students to freely enter his city.

Still, even though he said that the Atlantean people were united, she had to wonder just how true that statement really was. After such a bitter civil war, there was bound to be resentment lurking beneath the surface—no pun intended.

Virgil went along with the applause only a short distance from Karen. He still had yet to find Mal, but he was sure that he’d be okay for at least a little bit on his own. It wasn’t like Mal was helpless or anything, but it seemed to Virgil that he didn’t like all of the popularity that his family brought him.

He had never seen King Orin in the flesh before, and seeing a real life Justice League member right there in front of him was something to behold. He remembered seeing another League member many years ago, passing by on some important mission, but the memory was distant and vague to Virgil.

Still, despite all of this Virgil couldn’t help but glance around every so often. Maybe it was just his experience with most of his old classmates being Bang Babies and having it out for people, but this sort of crowd wasn’t exactly something that Virgil enjoyed. It was too thick, too many people in the event he needed to spring into action.

He sighed. That was behind him now. Well, not completely. He didn’t have to worry about being the only superhero on the block, or even within a hundred feet anymore. Surely if something were to break out, they’d all be able to handle it safely and efficiently.

Bjorn had managed to get a seat near the front of the hall, and had watched Orin’s whole speech in enraptured silence. His elbows often found themselves jabbed into the sides of the students seated next to him as he pointed up at the stage. They would get angry at first, but Bjorn’s pure excitement was infectious.

Well, that and a number of the ladies in the room found themselves paying equal attention to him as to the King.

Of course, he was a foreigner, so he did seem a little taken aback by the overrepresentation of Americans in the building, but that was to be expected, it was America after all. No matter the case, Bjorn’s aura immediately brought a subtle rowdiness to the crowd around him, not a riotous kind, but a more heavily spirited kind, as if they were in the middle of a pep rally.

Virgil, feeling like this was going really well, decided to cheer just a little more for the King of Atlantis. Why not? He clearly put in all of this effort to make everything work, why not appreciate it as much one could? Everyone around him was either dressed to the nines for their first ever day in Atlantis, or bumming around in comfortable clothes to get by on the long trip down. VIrgil was in that second group, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a light button-up t-shirt in his signature purple. A little flare from his costume to bleed into normal life made him feel just a little more super.

As the orientation drew to a close and the King departed, the students began to rise from their seats in droves. Many were still rather shaken by the trip here, it would seem, and so they were eager to find their dorms.

Karen, though she hadn’t taken the submarine, was one of them—she needed to lay down. Her human body still didn’t quite feel right to her. She wanted to fly. She hated how long it took her to get everywhere. All the little random itches and aches she had grown used to doing without.

Pushing her way through the crowds, she glanced at her phone to check the app she’d downloaded—a map of the campus.

Virgil really didn’t want to follow people around the entire time he was there. So far he only knew of Bjorn, Malcolm, and Karen, and with two of them gone and Virgil not wanting to be weird, he set off on his own.

Which didn’t last very long.

He was quick to realize that he had no idea where he was going. He wanted to move into his dorms as quick as possible to meet whoever he’d be sharing the room with, but he had no idea how to get there. Atlantis was completely new and strange to him, and he had little to go on.

He saw Karen again, walking with some amount of purpose. She seemed to know where she was going, and that was good enough for him. Walking up to her, he cleared his throat and tapped her on the shoulder somewhat nervously.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m bothering you again, but do you know where the dorms are? They didn’t exactly hand out maps at orientation. All I have is the building name and the room number.” He hated asking for help, especially when he had already talked to her before and didn’t really have much of a purpose to again other than she was one of the three people he interacted with down here.

Karen glanced up from her phone, offering him a tired smile. ”Oh, yes. There’s an app—”

”I know that!” Bjorn said. He quickly crossed the crowd without an issue, not even being bumped once. ”What’s your building? They are all in a row along the main road, I am in Lycus Hall, that’s the… east one.”

Bjorn approached quickly, but he stopped in his tracks as soon as he spotted Karen. Immediately his face went from an excited smile to a… something, it was hard to identify, but it was certainly a demonstration of attraction.

”Oh… hello,” he said, clearly nervous. His posture went from a shoulders-back confidence to an almost afraid slouch. ”Who… what’s your name? What course are you taking, what… er never… nevermind.”

Virgil almost yelped in surprise as Bjorn’s sudden appearance, but wasn’t ungrateful for the information. ”Yeah, I’m in… Lycus. Hey, looks like we’re dormmates, crazy, huh?” He fished out the papers with his information on them and took a look at them. He was about to introduce his female friend to Bjorn, but the realization came that she might not want people giving out her name left and right, especially to people as excitable as Bjorn was. Virgil knew a few people somewhat similar to Bjorn back in Dakota, and most of them never ended up all that good.

He patted Bjorn on the shoulder and set his hand back down. “I know she’s pretty, man, don’t need to get worked up.” Virgil flashed him a smile, walking on to where everyone else seemed to be going.

Karen stared at Bjorn, clearly surprised by his sudden outburst. Slowly raising her hand, she waved awkwardly at the excitable foreigner. It seemed like he didn’t know how to talk to girls, but that was understandable—she didn’t much know how to talk to boys, either. ”Erm, my name’s Karen. It’s nice to meet you…”

Yup, sure enough, he had forgotten to give her his name. Oh well, that could happen to anybody, right?

Ophelia Angelo-Blythe left the orientation hall in a daze. She was here, in Atlantis, and her outfit matched fucking perfectly. Her Louis Vuitton red leather ankle boots complimented the gold in the architecture, and in the accents of her Dolce and Gabbana Fall/Winter 2013 Mini dress decorated with a byzantine mosaic pattern. Everything felt regal here. And speaking of regality that King Orin had her too distracted to really pay attention to what he was saying. Did he mention the dorm rooms at all? She must of missed it while she’d been paying too much attention to the pants he’d been wearing. She saw a group of what she assumed to be fellow students up ahead of her in the hall, and quickened her pace to catch up to them, her heels making audibly clicking sounds on the coral floors.

”Hello? Pardon me!” She called as she caught up to them. Two boys and a pretty girl, who’d just introduced herself as Karen, walked together. Looking at them now, they were all rather attractive. ”Sorry to bother you all, but I was just going to ask if you knew which way the dorms were?” She fiddled with a curl as she spoke, twisting it around her finger.

”Hm?” Bjorn looked over at the new arrival. His expression remained unchanged and he quickly looked back towards Karen for a moment. Then he almost annoyedly turned to look at her. ”The dorms are in a line by the street, it is like co-ed, girls only, and the boys’.”

He didn’t even introduce himself before he returned to looking at Karen, well, looking sometimes, every other second he’d look at his feet so as not to stare.

”I’m Virgil Hawkins,” Virgil introduced himself and almost introduced both Bjorn and Karen as well. This new beauty was just so much in his eyes he almost lost focus. Like with Bjorn himself, Virgil didn’t want to give out new names to people if they themselves didn’t want to be exposed. “We’re all headed down to the dorms, are you in Lycus Hall too?” He sincerely hoped that she was, or at least nearby.

Karen blinked at Virgil. Did he not understand how dorms worked? Well, that was fine—it was their first time here. There was bound to be stuff he knew that she didn’t as well. ”She wouldn’t be, the dorms are gender segregated.”

She then turned to the girl, offering her a hand. ”I’m Karen, it’s nice to meet you.”

The first boy to speak to Ophelia put her off the group immediately. She wasn’t used to being treated like a bother at all. Initially, she had found him attractive, but now…

Then the pretty black boy spoke introduced himself, and was much more polite. Ophelia decided she liked him instantly. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Virgil.” she said with a charming smile.

And as it turns out, the rude one was wrong anyway. The pretty girl she’d heard introduce herself before as Karen introduced herself again. Ophelia’s smile widened.“Oh, I had heard you introduce yourself as I walked over. That’s a beautiful name, and I have to say, very fitting for such a beautiful girl.” She took Karen’s hand, offering a firm but gentle grip.

“My name is Ophelia Simone Helvetica Angelo-Blythe. And I do believe I’m headed that direction as well. I hope you all won’t mind if I tag along?” She tossed her curls over her shoulder and gave them a winning grin.

Ophelia would begin to hear something. Something nobody else could hear, a staticy screaming noise. It would slowly grow louder and louder, until it became an utter assault on the senses. At the same time, she’d begin to see hallucinations, subtle ones. These all disappeared as soon as she stopped looking at Karen.

”My name is Bjorn, I’m sorry for being rude earlier, I am new to this country and still getting used to everything.” Bjorn smiled widely once again, his former nervousness having gone away apparently.

Ophelia blinked, putting a hand to her temple as she began to hear a screeching static noise. She turned to Bjorn, “Oh, please, don’t apologise, it’s nice to meet you.” She said politely. Something felt off about him, and his dashing smile didn’t take away the sinking feeling he gave her. ”Does anyone else… hear something?”she asked, rubbing her temple.

“Huh?” Virgil tilted his head and looked around, unsure about what Ophelia had been talking about. He didn’t hear anything, but that wasn’t to say that she wasn’t just hearing things in the sense of them being auditory hallucinations. “No, I don’t hear anything. What’s it like?” It didn’t seem out of the realm of possibilities for someone to be playing a trick on one of the prettiest women around to garner attention. Virgil wouldn’t show off his power like that to everyone, especially if he found anyone else with similar powers.

Karen tilted her head to the side, listening carefully to the ambiance around them. She heard plenty—people talking, the sound of marching students, laughter...but nothing that she would consider out of the ordinary. ”I don’t hear anything that shouldn’t be there; are you feeling alright? What dorm are you in, Ophelia?”

”It’s probably nothing.” She said, waving it away with her hand. ”I was just a little dizzy for a spell. Once we get to the dorms I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m in the Asterion dorms, room fourteen, I believe.”

Karen glanced down at her phone again, quirking a brow. ”Asterion? Really? That’s where I’m at. I’m also in room fourteen! Looks like we’re roomies! I think we’ve got one more with us, but I haven’t gotten the chance to meet her yet.”

Virgil happened upon a thought with the revelation that both Karen and Ophelia would be rooming together. ”Hey, Bjorn, what room are you in?” He asked, not quite out of the blue. Maybe they had the same luck as the girls.

”Oh uh… I’m in room 312… I guess just 12,” Bjorn said. He hadn’t paid too close attention it seemed, with excitement levels as high as his it made sense that he’d miss things.

”Crazy!” Virgil almost laughed, pulling out his own papers once more and pointing at the matching room number. How weird was it that one of the only people he had talked to today was also his roommate. Not even that, but the two girls they were with were also roommates. Weird coincidences. ”Looks like you two aren’t the only ones splitting a room.” He smiled at the girls, putting in a little more charm to try and keep up with Ophelia. ”I wonder who our third man is… Oh man, I’m gonna lose it if Mal is joining us in the room, right, man?” He elbowed Bjorn with a smile, laughing internally at how nuts it would be if that was the case.

Karen glanced between them, cupping her chin. She had a strange feeling when she observed this place from the Rock of Eternity, and even after teleporting here in her human form, she could feel something pulling at her through the leylines. ”No...it’s not crazy; it’s magic. I believe someone has cast a spell over the campus—and perhaps the submarine that brought you here—that draws together those who will be sharing a room, and helps them find where they need to go. Rather thoughtful.”

Ophelia laughed, sweet and clear like a bell.”How serendipitous! Well, now I’m excited. I can’t wait to spend the school year with such lovely people. It seems King Orin has thought of everything, doesn’t it?” She mused. The static she’d heard but moments ago a thing of the past as the charm of her new school took its place in her mind.

Which was just as well, because a proverbial record scratch was on its way.

”So, there I was at four in the goddamn morning, ambling through the place like a frickin’ zombie, looking to get myself some goddamn chocolate milk- because what the hell else do you do at four in the morning? So, damn-near sleepwalking and not paying attention, I round the corner finally look up aaaannnd...”

Came a… particularly animated voice from somewhere nearby, growing clearer and seemingly closer as it rambled on. Accompanied by the echoing drum of footsteps against the solid coral floor that grew louder and louder as the seconds passed.

”There’s fucking Karen.” The voice continued, a note of something approaching… legitimate admiration and/or affection on it’s tone, even as it’s owner was clearly building up to a punchline at his subject’s expense. ”Standing there, in her fluffy purple pyjamas and trying and failing to sing into an ice-cream scoop. Loudly.”

It was at that exact moment that a sharp-dressed teenager with scarred knuckles and a girl in a cream-coloured sweater wheeled around the corner, completely oblivious to the quartet of other students they were now sharing a corridor with.

”So there I am, just standing there like a deer in the headlights while she dances about screaming ’OOOOH, OOOOH, OOOOH, BUBBLE POP!’ until she finally noticed I was there, tripped over her own two feet and somehow managed to launch the tub of Oreo Ice-cream she’d been scavenging out of about five feet into the air directly above her, where it promptly came down, squishy-side first, onto her pretty little noggin.”

As the voice grew louder, a smile was brought to Virgil’s face. Mal must have found someone fun to talk to if he was being that loud. It was fortunate that they were all making friends so quickly, magic or otherwise.

“Ay, Mal!” Virgil shouted and waved him over. “Bring your friend!” Virgil for one was excited, ecstatic, almost. This day was going so well after the heartfelt goodbyes with his family, as he was quickly surrounded by friends both old and new.
Karen’s neck nearly snapped as she whirled around at the sound of Malcolm’s voice, his rather loud and obnoxious recounting of one of her more embarrassing moments from the past.

Karen nearly snapped her neck as she twisted around at the sound of Malcolm’s voice, his imitation of her voice pulling her lips into a frown. Who the hell was he telling that story to? And why?

Well, it was Malcolm. He loved to embarrass her. How could she have ever forgotten? It had been about eight months now since he last trolled her, so she had made the mistake of letting her guard down. Folding her arms, she stared down her childhood friend as he approached. ”Mal, good to see you made it; maybe I should share some stories about you with your new friend there?”

Mal’s head snapped forward at the duo of familiar voices to his front, almost looking like someone who’d been taken completely by surprise, if the momentary bit of shock on his face was anything to go by. Though the slight quirk of his brow spoke otherwise.

If nothing else, years spent in front of the cameras had made the Kasimir ward into one hell of an actor.

”Oh, uhh... hey Karen!” The suit-clad teenager started, an uncomfortably embarrassed grin snaking its way onto his scarred face ”I, err… didn’t see you there.

Now that was a blatant lie and she’d damn well know it.

...But after their last conversation, The Wizard had earned herself at least this little ribbing.

”I’m sure,” she said, not believing that it would’ve given him more than a moment’s pause if he had known she was present. ”Well, I’m here now—I kept my promise. You shouldn’t have any complaints, right?”

She still felt really weird, being in this body again. She wanted to go to the gym and work out at some point, just to try and get a feel for moving around as a human again. Sparring with Mal would also probably help with that.

No sooner had the words left her mouth, did Malcolm very abruptly walk right up and pull her into a quick hug.

”None whatsoever.” He answered, the false-embarrassment on his face melting away into a genuine smile that stayed in place even as he released her, giving her shoulders a light squeeze as he went.

Mal was happy to see Karen again- There wasn’t any denying that, even through his constant ribbing. But that was the mushy-feely kind of stuff the boy kept a lid on in public.

So, quirking that Kasimir brow again in his own distinct fashion, the lad cast a glance over the blonde’s shoulder at the trio behind her, deploying his trademarked wry little grin as he did so.

”Sooo…. See you’ve met Bjorn and Virg, care to introduce me to your new friend?” Mal started again, gaze shifting back to Karen with a trickle of humour in his eyes as he cocked his thumb towards the girl in question ”...Or are we just gonna keep staring at each other awkwardly in public?”

Karen didn’t mind the embrace, even though she returned it rather awkwardly. She was happy to hug what was essentially her little brother again, it was just a sensation she had very nearly forgotten. Perhaps that had been his point when he contacted her—human contact itself had become something strange for her.

Glancing over her shoulder at Ophelia, Karen smiled. ”This is Ophelia—she’s my roommate, apparently.”

With a friendly little slap on Karen’s shoulder and a chuckle, Mal walked past his surrogate sister, casually tucking his left hand into his pocket and offering out his right for a shake.

”Name’s Malcolm. Good ta meet’cha.”

The first thing he knew when he took back control of his body, David was just ducking out of the way of a punch aimed at his throat. Reacting quickly, he fired the pistol he didn't even know he had in his hand, nailing the man in the chest and stumbling backwards onto the ground in the process. He was in full costume, had a gun in his hand, and was in a warehouse surrounded by large crates and machinery. Instinctively, he rolled into cover, that being a forklift. Bullets struck the side of the machine, and he caught his breath while trying to figure out his next move...

But really, there was only one thing he could think at that time.

"What the fuck did I get into now?"

He wasn't too sure. All he knew was that he had gone from having lunch to fighting for his life against a dozen guys or so. Considering his plan for tonight was to head to a bar to let off some steam, it was safe to say that getting into a gunfight against some goons wasn't on the agenda. David knew exactly who he could blame for it. 'Hood! What did you do?!'

'Relax Dave, I was just having some fun.'

'What, and this is your idea of- You know what, I already know the answer to that.'

'Come on, Dave, these guys are just two-bit thugs with nothing between the ears.'

'Sounds like someone I'm sharing a head with.'

'Oh, that was a low blow, even for you. Now do me a favor and go kill some guys, it's not like you're getting out of this without using that kickass gun I found.'

'Hood, we can't just go around killing everyone who gets in our way.'

'Dave, these guys are trying to kill us. Now stop being a pussy and show them who's boss.'

Hood... Had a point, as much as Dave hated to admit it. Maybe he'd have to kill some of them to make it out of this. He just had to think his way through this. A full frontal assault would be suicide, but there was no other... It hit him: the lights. He could take out the lights and plunge the room into darkness. That would allow him to sneak around and take them out one by one. Nodding to himself, David took a deep breath. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he peeked out of his cover, firing off a few rounds at the lights.


David let out his breath as he ducked back into cover, and the room went from relatively well-lit to damn near pitch black. He could hardly see what was around him, but before he pulled that stunt he had noticed a pipe behind him which went up to the ceiling and across to the other side. He could climb it and jump down onto a thug to take him out. That didn't say anything for the other nine, though.

Deciding to say fuck it, David holstered his pistol and jumped onto the pipe, climbing up to the ceiling and pulling himself along it, high above the criminals. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, allowing him to see the outlines of the criminals below him. Taking in a deep breath, he dropped down onto one of the men, grabbing onto the man's head and slamming it into the concrete ground. "Ouch. You're gonna be feeling that in the morning, pal," David whispered under his breath.

Three right in front of him, two on both sides, and three behind him. He was in near complete darkness surrounded by them. My, wasn't this familiar. He had to fight back a smile at the memory, before shaking it off to continue. God, he really should've gotten that grappling hook; would be useful to zip right back up to that pipe. Oh well, he could make due on the ground.

David jumped up onto a table to his right, delivering a kick to one of the thugs' heads. The thug went out like a light, and David ducked as he landed on the ground before delivering an uppercut to the groin of the other thug on that side. With the two of them dispatched so quickly, David struggled to keep his excitement contained. "Ohhh, fuck yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yeah. I bet that looked awesome," he whispered to himself.

"You guys hear that?" one of the thugs asked.

"No, what was it?" another replied.

"A voice, over there. Let's check it out."

'Shit.' Dave scrambled away from the unconscious thugs and ran to the other side of the room, climbing on top of a large crate. A few of the thugs approached the spot he was last in, but two of them hung back, a decent gap between them. One was right beneath him.

He jumped down and landed behind the thug, quickly disarming him before taking him in a chokehold. David pulled the gun out from his holster and aimed over the thug's shoulder. "Think your friends will shoot you?" Dave whispered in the thug's ear. "Let's find out." The thug gave a strained whimper.

David took a deep breath.

'Steady, Dave.'

He took aim at the other thug's gun hand and fired, then quickly shifted his aim towards the thug's knee and fired again. David swerved to face the group of thugs clustered together near his last position. He released his breath, and time sped back up. "It's him!" one of the thugs shouted. They began to fire at him, the bullets striking his human shield. Dave took the opportunity to let go of the gangster and roll into cover again.

Using the shadows for concealment, he circled around behind the thugs as they approached what they thought was his corpse. He pressed his back up against one of the crates and listened. "Oh shit! It's Paul, the fuckin' bastard made us kill Paul!"

"That limp dick is around here somewhere, spread out!"

There was only five left, and they were obviously scared. Keeping crouched to be less visible, David watched as the five split up to search the room over for him. As one of them got closer, he whispered, "Psst, hey. Over here." As soon as he said that, he climbed on top of the crate.

"Guys, think I got something. Checking it out." The gangster approached the spot, looking around. David jumped on top of him, sending a kick into his head which probably had enough force to crack his skull. David rolled away from the body and jumped back onto the pipe, climbing up to the roof.

Four left.

"Darkness... The boogeyman's coming for you, boys..." David hissed softly. The gangsters all looked around for the source of his voice.

"Everybody, back to back!" one of the crooks shouted. They all gathered up in a circle, back to back, guns at the ready. "Come on out, you bastard!"

"Heheheh..." David pulled out his pistol, took a breath, then jumped down.

He was right on top of them. They didn't stand a chance.

He fired off three quick rounds, taking down three of the men with shots to the head. He released his breath and landed on the last man, pistol whipping him in the face and knocking him out cold. David stood up, sighing. "So... Hood... Now that this is all done, you gonna tell me what this was about?"

'They're arms dealers, Dave. Check the crates.'

Quirking an eyebrow, Dave headed over to one of the crates and ripped the lid off of it. Taking a peek inside, David had to take a few breaths to stop himself from having a heart attack. Guns, and loads of them. He had already built up a decent arsenal but one could never have too many guns. Grabbing a duffel bag off of a nearby table, he began to fill it up with guns and munitions, giggling like a school girl all throughout.

'Yeah Dave, I knew you'd like it.'

"Like it? I fucking love it! Look at all these guns! I'm starting to think I died and went to Heaven!" David continued to fill the duffel bag, closing it up once he had enough. He cast one last glance into the crate, and did a double check at what he saw.

There was some helmets and body armor underneath the guns, top of the line stuff. He grabbed one of the helmets and looked it over. "... Hey Hood?"

'Hm?'

"We still got that red spray paint?"

'Yep.'

David tossed the helmet into the duffel bag, along with a pair of gauntlets and one of the form-fitting suits of body armor. "Time for an upgrade."

January 29th, 12:35 AM
Los Angeles, California

Thomas Walker, fifty seven years old. Self-made man, starting off with a small cargo boat as a young man and quickly expanding into owning his own import/export business. Donates to women’s shelters, has a wife and children, just recently expanded into Gotham City after a previous businessman’s decision to cross Grim had prices dropping tantalizingly low for his equipment and space.

To be fair, Walker ran a very legal business in Gotham. Adding an import of silks and furs for the rich elite of Gotham, exporting the usual goods from their shores, it was all above board. Really, his only mistake was keeping the same man overseeing his operations from other parts of the country.

Ryan Dirk, forty five years old. Chain smoker, has a rap sheet of moderate size but seems to have stepped away from crime ever since gaining legal employ under Walker. Now he was one of the top employees, taking over the day-to-day in Gotham until things became more stabilized. A true turn around story.

Except Dirk had a big mouth.

“Can’t wait to get away from this boring shit. Too bad the boss is scared shitless over dogman, this would be a great place to pick up some more merchandise.”

Now wasn’t that interesting. Why would the esteemed Mr. Walker be afraid of Grim?

Well, that’s exactly what the Gotham Hero had been chasing for the past three weeks. Getting rid of Dirk would’ve been easy of course, but that would’ve been cutting off one trail before it even began. The bugs placed around the docks would catch anything extra, while Grim sought out what secrets Mr. Walker was hiding.

As it turned out, it was a lot. Suspicious money trails, employees with certain pasts, predatory recruitment in those same shelters Walker donated to. The most telling, however, was just three days before.

Zoey had said goodbye to Malcolm in the morning, told him to enjoy Atlantis and packed him a lunch (she didn’t make it, she’s sure he was thankful for that). It was strange for the silence of the Castle to be deafening, considering how long she was alone there, with no one but the servants. Yet now with her youngest son gone and her eldest son... also gone... it was a different kind of quiet. The logical part of her knew it was just empty nest syndrome, as much as she hated to admit it. It wasn’t even as though Malcolm was particularly loud when he was around.

Yet it had led up to her telling Nicole she was going on vacation and loading up the Grim Jet to head to Los Angelas. That night she had pried open a cargo box at the main harbour Walker operated out of, finding a good dozen pair of eyes staring back at Grim’s stony visage in despair.

Walker though, Walker was good. Nothing led back to him except in the loosest of connections. In a court he could wave it all away as not knowing what his employees were doing, and would get off light. He knew this, and Grim knew this. The bugs in his home, his office, his work would only get so far considering how the information was obtained. So had started the sleepless nights of stalking this man, this ... cockroach in a suit. From what the hero knew and suspected, Walker preferred doing his business in person.

Less of a trail, that way.

On the third night the waiting finally paid off. Walker had told his wife he got called in for an emergency, kissed her goodbye, and left his home to head to the harbour of Los Angeles.

“A dozen people don’t just disappear into thin air, Jack!” Walker’s face was red, spit flying from his mouth. The argument had been going for ten minutes so far as the man tore into his subordinate. A pair of large hands ran against a bald head as Walker began to pace, muttering under his breath. Jack sullenly shifted, letting his boss’ anger bleed into the room of the warehouse office.

Opposite the elevated office, hidden in the shadows by a light that had mysteriously burnt out three nights ago – the least of their problems – a pair of steel-blue eyes watched in silence behind a dark mask.

“So which one of your dickless friends did this, Jack?” Walker finally stopped, leveraging a furious glare.

“My men would never-”

“Really? Because right now it looks like an entire shipment has vanished, and since the police aren’t around asking me some uncomfortable questions I can only assume that someone other than the police took my merchandise!”

Heh.

“I’ll... I’ll find a way to replace them-”

“Replacing doesn’t fix the problem, Jack! Find those girls. Those girls and what happened! And if they aren’t back in the next two days with an explanation, you’ll be losing a lot more than a job!” The door of the office slammed open as Walker manoeuvred his bulk down the stairs, thundering passed the fifteen guards – counted and double counted. Grim’s gaze followed every step, the lens of her mask zooming in to catch his face one last time as he approached the exit.

Oh, well that wouldn’t do, now would it?

With the voice and video recordings uploaded to the Grim Grotto, it was time to wrap this up. The launcher on the inside of Grim’s left arm primed, and with careful aim the canister within launched. Striking the floor of the warehouse it split open, flooding the area quickly.

Eight men dropped under the powerful gas, Walker falling to the almost simultaneous motion of a small dart being thrown and hitting his neck. In an instant he was on the floor screaming bloody murder as the Tarantula Hawk venom flooded his system, drawing the remaining conscious, panicked eyes to him in a useful distraction.

Plus, Grim may have been a little petty when it came to human trafficking.

Three sets of electrified prongs took out three men in quick succession as Grim dropped to the ground, a fourth falling to defibrillator built into the suit’s palm. The first shot rang out from one of the guard’s guns, grazing the shoulder of the suit. His weapon was dropped as a glinting knife pierced precisely into his hand, another man receiving a harsh elbow to the gut and a palm full of anaesthesia to his gasping mouth. When the bloodied guard went down to another palm of electricity, the last of the group dropped his weapon and raised his hands, panic clear on his young face.

Grim cocked her head to the side, but obliged in accepting his surrender – he almost welcomed the anaesthesia dropping him out of this mess.

The sudden punch of a hail of bullets against her back had Grim stumbling, only the reinforced suit keeping her standing. In a swift motion she turned, three of her knives thrown from her hand. Above her, on the stairs leading down from the office, Jack yelped as one of the thrown projectiles sunk into his torso.

“Oh – oh fuck no I’m not dealing with this!” Abruptly Jack turned, and with no hesitation jumped at the wall – phasing right through it and to the outside.

For fuck’s sake.

Turning on her heel Grim stalked to the exit, stepping over the still screaming Walker as one of the lenses of her mask swapped to infrared. There went the red shape of a human, dashing along down the line of cargo boxes. Through them, actually, as he apparently phased through them. No matter. A few commands to the Grim Computer soon had a shadow passing overhead, and Grim returned inside.

Walker’s screaming was quieting as the Tarantula Hawk venom reached the end of its very painful run. Three minutes of excruciating agony. Very useful to keep someone incapacitated for a short period.

Grim crouched down, allowing Walker to regain his breath in deep, panting inhales. Outside there was a sudden flurry of noise, of bullets firing from above. Almost leisurely the Gotham hero shifted her masks’ lens to show the view from the Grim Jet – hovering above the harbour, beneath it the metahuman Jack laying in a mirror of his boss, groaning from the rubber bullets that had suddenly peppered him from above.

“You son of a bitch...” Walker had sucked in enough air to speak finally. Grim tilted her mask to look down at him, silent. “They’ll never get a conviction, and I swear to god once I’m free, I’ll come after everything you love-”

Steel-blue eyes flashed beneath the mask, and Walker was once more choking for air as a black glove slammed into his throat, pinning him down. The hero leaned in close, deeply modulated voice rumbling quietly into the warehouse air.

”Even if you escape justice, Thomas Walker, you will never escape me.”

A dark hand covered his face, and in a moment the man was out like a light.

A great sigh heaved through Grim’s mask as she stood, rolling her shoulders slowly. Clean up time. First these, then Jack, then she’d have to return to Gotham to no doubt track down Dirk – he’d be in the wind as soon as the news hits. To be quite frank, Zoey was getting annoyed that people kept thinking they could operate right under her nose. Even with Walker gone, the cycle would repeat as his assets were sold off...

... Actually, that gave her an idea on breaking this.

---

The Next Morning...

”Good morning, Nicole. Excuse me for diving right into business, but have you seen the news?”

“Of course, Miss Kasimir! It’s all over, big scandal – good thing we never got into business with Walker, huh?”

”Indeed. Speaking of which, I need you to contact Wilson over in legal about purchasing a new company...”

He broke the thug's nose with a vicious right hook, continuing to wail on him for no reason other than his own satisfaction. The bastard deserved it. Question was disgusted by a lot of crimes, but rape - rape was the thing that disgusted him the most. By the time he was done he was sure he had at the very least given the man a concussion. At the most? He might've fractured his skull.

Question stood up, giving the would be rapist one last kick as he did so. He tried to take in a deep breath, but ended up coughing violently. He pounded a bit on his chest to clear it up. Probably had a cold or something, he had been going out really late at night these days, and it was just getting colder and colder. Hrm. Further proof global warming is a myth, fabricated by the government in order to keep the population fearful of something they can't control...

He shook his head. Those thoughts were useless to him, just the inane babbling of a mad man. This only meant one thing: it was wearing off. He could feel the chi within him fading. He was slipping back into Oscar. That couldn't happen, not now, Oscar was weak, he didn't have what it took to do this, Oscar wasn't good enough, he never was, he never will be, he can't be Oscar he can't be Oscar he can't be he can't he can't can't can't can'tcan'tcan'tcantcantcantcantcantca-

The phone in his pocket rang.

Oscar (he can't be Oscar) pulled it out, taking a look at the caller ID.

He nearly dropped the phone in surprise. It was Shams. He had to blink to make sure he wasn't imagining it, but no, it was her, she was calling him, right now... She was calling him. He had a feeling this was some... Some sick joke, maybe it was an accident, she wouldn't call him, not after... Not after what happened.

He blinked again. Her name was still there. Hesitantly, he pressed the answer call button. "Shams?" he said, trying to fight back the bit of hope creeping into his voice.

Shams smiled as she heard a voice on the other end. Well, less a smile and more a twitch. She tried to put the phone to her ear, but it fell from her hand as her fingers gave up trying to hold it. It landed on her chin and bounced to the ground near her face, thankfully. She was too sore everywhere else to notice what was probably going to be a bruise on her chin, so silver linings. Even having holes in your abdomen can have a silver lining.

She turned her head to look at the phone, from here she didn't think the microphone would pick her up. Dammit. Well, this was going to be fun.

She tensed her muscles in preparation. Immediately she felt pain like nothing else she'd ever felt. Her side burned, god it burned, her head throbbed, her arm though, that was the worst of all. Something inside pulsed, like something was out of place. She put a hand over it, feeling the muscle push against her palm then retreat. Then it attacked once more. Just a twitch, she wasn't broken just yet. She squeezed the flesh tightly, just preparing for what she had to do next.

She swallowed one last breath, then pushed up. Her teeth felt like they were about to smash with how hard she barred them. She worried that someone might come to finish the job with how loud she was growling. She stuck to the ground, she hadn't bled that much had she? She felt the inside of her skin touch pavement, you know something's gone horribly wrong when you feel that; definitely a unique experience that few get to go through, that one.

One last push, she thought as she felt concrete slide across her wound, tearing a bit of skin with it probably. She took a deep breath, planted her hand, and pushed with a roar. Finally she rested on her side, after what had been the most difficult adjustment she'd ever made. Well, second worst after her favorite toilet paper rose in price.

Why was she thinking about toilet paper? Well, she was in a pool of her own blood deep enough to drown a poodle, so it was forgivable to want one or two napkins.

"Oscar... Angel..." was all she could get out through the pain. He would figure it out, it wasn't like the name of the nightclub was too cryptic for him to figure out.

Shit, she hoped.

It was on days like today, where Mal was extremely grateful for the invention of the punching bag.

BANG! CACHINK! BANG-BANG! CACHINK!

Doubly so was Mal, over the rhythmic din of flesh slamming into the leather and the rattling of chains echoing across the all-but-deserted gymnasium, grateful that the Atlanteans saw the merits of having a big bag of animal flesh filled with sand and hanging from the ceiling for the purpose of beating the hell out of. Though honestly, how couldn't they? It made for decent cardio, helped you work on your form, got you used to the notion that the act of punching something wasn't necessarily the most comfortable way to pass the time, and of course, as Mal knew better than most-

-Was freaking great when you really needed to hit something.

BANG... BANG-BANG! CACHINK!

It had been a long day, even before he'd gotten onto the boat- A quick ride out to Blud before dawn to have his annual visit to an empty alleyway a little earlier than usual. Eating breakfast. Saying goodbye to Henry and the rest of the castle staff. Kissing his Ma on the cheek and meeting Anatoli and Irene down at an arcade by the waterfront, for one last hurrah before he boarded a big damned submarine for the city below the waves.

Meeting Virgil in there. Meeting Bjorn. Meeting the others after the long ride.

...Seeing Karen again.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG... BANG! CACHINK!

He had actually been hoping to see what may as well have been his big sister down here. That somewhere during their little tiff over the scrying stone, he just might've gotten through her magical little (at times) thick head. But... well...

"Well, I’m here now—I kept my promise. You shouldn’t have any complaints, right?”

Those words stuck in the boy's mind. His eidetic memory playing it over and over again with perfect clarity as if the blonde were standing next to him while his powerful brain systematically dissected and analyzed the small details of her pitch, body language and brain activity.

Discomfort.

Irritation.

A bit of frustration. More so than seemed entirely deserved for his routine foray into 'Mal's Storytime'...

BANG! BANG! BANG! CACHINK!

It painted a clear picture.

BANG!

Karen didn't want to be here.

BANG!

She didn't want to be away from her magic space rock.

BANG!

She didn't want to see him, or perhaps anyone else again.

It was all just... so inconvenient to her.

"URAAAAH!"

BANG! Pshhhh...

Malcolm would be lying if he said that didn't sting a little.

Had it the ability to do so, the bag, now split open and spilling it's contents onto the gymnasium floor- would have agreed wholeheartedly.

"Oh, fer..."

The scarred boy managed out under a frustrated sigh, as the piling sand at his feet abruptly pulled him from whatever place he'd been inside his own head and he began peeling off his hand-wraps with his teeth- This line of thinking wasn't helping; just assuming what was going on in the blonde's head and then getting mad about it. Despite how easy it was to fall into that train of thought, especially with his somewhat unique way of reading people.

He needed to actually talk to her.

The boy's eyes shot down toward the growing pile of sand at his feet and the busted bag hanging lop-sided from the ceiling.

...After he cleaned up this mess, that was.