---

"You're my jailor."

And Vincent was gone, using his powers to disappear to, what Julian presumed, was the other end of the fight. His powers let him just do that, and it bugged him. Julian, flabbergasted had a thought up retort in regards to the verbal gutpunch Vincent threw his way. He was gonna tell him how his interest in Vincent was vested in enhancing Vincent's abilities, while he approached Dandelion more like a science project - Hayden's a child Julian had to look after, Julian and Red were both almost born yesterday, yet Vincent was the least mature person in the entire team. He wanted to say things to that extent, yet he didn't have the time.

Instead, he, to a completely empty room, sans the knocked out thug who's muscle mass was shrinking rather rapidly, he yelled.

"Yeah? Well! You're stupid!" The teen genius yelled, only to feel something grab his arm from out of his view.
"Not as stupid as you." The formerly electrocuted thug blurted out, punching Luthor in the face, sending him tumbling to the side. Getting out the steel case from his pocket, he opened it and found six patches inside. He got out four and put them on his wrist, his eyes lit up with a dim green haze as his body regained it's hulking size. He was clearly hurt, but even more importantly, he was really angry.

He charged at Julian, whom clicked his belt buckle, producing a small forcefield around him that kept the hulking man from tearing him limb from limb. The bubble was cracking after a couple of hits from the brute, but it was enough time for Julian to get his suitcase to activate the magnetic mechanism in it, pulling it towards Julian's own wrist. The briefcase came towards him, as the man's fist cracked the bubble and met with Julian's cheek, sending him careening on the floor, his nose broken.

With his still gloved hand, Julian tried to catch the man's fist, in doing so, his shoulder was dislocated and his arm broken in - at least four places. But the electric blast from his glove stunned his assailant, making him stumble backwards and taking even more damage from the electric shock. The suitcase was at Julian's side, but he was laying on the ground, unable to open it properly.

"Protocol Lazarus." Julian spoke, the suitcase popped open as he rolled to his side, inside, a single blue vial with a tiny syringe being lit up by four very powerful strobe lights. The suitcase simulated sunlight. And the serum? It was concocted out of 98% pure, Kryptonian-Hybrid blood. Julian removing his ring would just let him absorb sunlight, he'd start with no batteries and he'd die anyway as soon as the hulking man ahead of him recovered. This was a jumper cable hooked up to the sun, and it was his only chance.

Jamming the serum into his chest, his felt the raw power surge into his bloodstream, his shattered bones in his arm melded together almost instantly, his nose healed and so did the cuts and bruises. But he also felt it fading, fast. The ring on his finger made sure of that. And Julian's glove was covering his hand so he couldn't take it off. The brute ran at him like a steamroller as Julian sat on the ground, on his knee. The thug charged at him, the teen threw his had curled into a fist straight up, the worst performed uppercut in the history of the world. But it hit the man in the jaw, knocking him four inches off the ground, unconscious. Julian felt the power leave him as quickly as it had arrived and he was back on the ground, catching his breath.

About a minute later, he crawled to his feet, examined the thug once more, this time making sure he was out cold. He found the steel case, inside of it, two more patches. He grabbed it, and was about to head down into the hole, as he felt his collarbone hurt. He had broken it when he threw his punch. Great.

Ripping the sleeve off his shirt he created a makeshift sling and headed down the hole, landing right in the mayhem. He didn't have any powers, and the patches? Yeah, they'd do him no good, there was no way he was seeing what venom would do to a depowered kryptonian. That's not to say they were without their uses for his means.

"Hey, Red!" He shouted at Morrow. "Take one!" He continued, throwing the case at Red. Red's metabolism was off the charts. He'd get a power boost and no long term effects from taking one of them as his body would simply burn out the poisonous materials same way they'd let him build muscle mass while eating nothing but hot pockets for an entire week.

The three men turned around, two of whom nodded to one another and began to approach Red. Whilst the third continued wailing on Hana's protective shield.

Red eyed his surroundings. The two men began to pick up speed. He knew he didn't need to beat the duo, and probably couldn't anyway, he merely needed to waste their time burning off whatever it was that was powering them. Make them work. And any extra shots he could get in would just be a bonus, and would further help make them bring the fight to him.

They had got up to a charge now, Red crouched. Swiftly he side-stepped and rolled off to the right, the two men crashed into each other, having charged him in too close quarters. Veins throbbed out of their musculature, and their breathing accelerated in frustration. Red smiled as he knew what it would mean for the substance rapidly burning through their bodies.

This time the two lumbered in their approach, Red went back left, took a few steps up a wall and attempted to use his momentum to snap off a fly kick at one of their heads.

The only thing that felt like it might have snapped were the ligaments in his ankle. It was like kicking a wrecking ball, and if there had been any give at all, Red hadn't noticed it. All he'd noticed was terrible pain. For the first time in his life, real searing physical pain. His foot felt damaged underneath him, and with it so did much of his speed advantage - his best weapon in buying the time necessary to win this fight.

He was back under the hole, and had assumed a martial arts pose he'd seen in one of the movies he'd watch with Hayden, when a voice came from above.

"Hey Red!" It called down to him. "Take one!"

Red remembered some of the stories CeCe had told him in the past, and thinking of who could possibly help him at a time like this, just uttered a "Je--Jesus..?"

Julian sighed and called down. "Julian, but close enough. Just use one."

Red inspected what he was being given, and found it to be a small steel case of some kind, similar to what the man upstairs had when he-- ah!

The two men recognised what he held, and glancing between themselves, they began to lumber into a charge.

Red pulled a patch out and slapped it on the outside of his wrist, very little of his person wasn't covered by his kevlar outfit, and as his hand throbbed and quickened, he watched as the world seemed to shrink away. His foot seemed to return to strength once more.

The two men charged, Red quickly put his left hand behind the neck of the first and used the man's own momentum drove him into a wall, without stopping to watch his own handiwork. He then grabbed the other by the neck and threw him into the ceiling, causing a large cloud of plaster, before stepping back as the thuggish robber landed flat on his face on the floor.

He stepped back, and tried to focus on his breathing and keeping a steady pulse. He had used only one patch and had no idea how long he had before it would run out.

He turned to face the two when he heard Hana call out his name from behind him. He turned, just in time to see the third turn back and slam her into a crumpled mess herself.

Red fell on the man like a force of nature, hands to the man's face and throat, as the panicked brute tried to stop him from getting purchase. He managed to lock in a hand around his neck, before scratching and clawing the man would break free again. The racing pulse, the rapid breathing, he was burning through the juice at an accelerated rate, and then Red managed to find a new hold - grabbing a fist full of hair, and stepping back to drive his face into the ground, cracking the tiles in the process. He released him, and watched as the man seemingly shrank before his eyes.

Underneath the hole in the ceiling, the other two began to get back to their feet.

Red offered a hand out to Hana, along with an awkward smile from a blood spattered face.

Dandelion had begun to reconstitute himself, and took his place besides them. The numbers now seemed far less daunting.

To Gabi’s surprise, the final blow didn’t come from one of her teammates, but by someone else entirely. As she let the unconscious body of the brute slink out of her arms and onto the floor, she looked up at their saviour, not knowing what to think.

She – and she could only tell it was a she from her voice – seemed to be dressed entirely in a suit of black armour. The only detail that popped out from the darkness of her suit was her mask, which seemed to be adorned in the shape of a skull, with a brilliant pink cross leaving a perfect target on her forehead. She was an imposing sight. Her costume did not exactly scream super-hero, however, given she had just helped them, she had to be on their side. Right?

“Thank you…” Wonder-Girl managed, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“Who are you meant to be?” She continued, taking another glance at the cross. “The Pink X?”

She gazed around the front of the precinct, taking everything in. Catching one of Hayden’s dinosaurs taking down one of the final gunmen, she smiled. It would seem that between them all, the front of this area had been cleared. She wondered if the team at the bank were having this much success.

They certainly weren’t out of the woods yet though, as the sound of gun fire continued to ring out from the rear of the complex. Gazing towards the noise, she rallied the group around her before moving forward.

Dandelion staggered away from the smear of blood they left in the corner of the room, dragging the skin that had once been a dog forward to rejoin the others. The skin's single remaining eye was glassy and motionless, its yellow iris turned ruddy orange by burst blood vessels. Dandy peered at the scene unfolding as they trudged along, paying close attention to the way the chemical adhesive affected Redmond. The effect was almost instantaneous, surprising Dandy greatly. They had known that Red, much like themselves, had been a sheltered lab specimen for nearly his entire life, and that he possessed some unusual biological qualities for a human. They were not anticipating a metabolic response that surpassed their own in speed and efficiency. The dog's dead orange eye stared, and Dandelion made a mental note to acquire a sample as soon as possible.

As the dog slowly stumbled along on its rigor-stiffened legs, the trail of blood Dandelion had left on the floor quivered and reacted to them as they walked back through it. The leftover ruin of the dog's head had stopped bleeding by now, and the bloodstain around Dandy began to contract inwards, toward them, like a stain spreading in reverse. It creeped along slowly at first, but the blood became thicker as it shrank inwards and accumulated more of itself, and as it thickened it moved more quickly. Eventually the blood completely vanished under Dandelion's canine paws, leaving the floor as clean as it had been before they had begun to knock holes in the walls and ceiling.

This was not the only ambulatory viscera in the bank at that time, however. The blood, bits of brain and bone, and crushed eyeball that had been smeared across the boot of the robber that knocked Dandy's head in were no longer on his boot. The residue of the inside of Dandy's skull had coalesced into a thick, wet mass, resembling a gelatinous crimson slug. Unlike all of Dandy's blood on the floor, this offshoot had brain matter in its composition, and remembered what it was originally doing before being separated from Dandelion's greater whole: trying to kill this bank robber. It crawled up the leg of the goon that was haranguing Vincent, writhing around to slither up the massive man's back, clinging to his shirt out of sheer viscosity.

The venom-juiced robber seemed to only notice the damp mass at it crawled from his shirt onto his thick bull neck, and he reacted with disgust, instinctively trying to swipe off whatever foreign wetness clung to him. As he attempted to wipe it off, it clung to his hand, causing him to pull his hand back reflexively. However, as he withdrew his hand and the mass passed near his face, it sprung off his hand with surprising vigor, and stuck fast to the side of his face. Now the robber was panicking, yelling and desperately scrabbling at his face to get it off. He reacted too slowly and clumsily, as within moments the mass had writhed into his ear canal, invading his skull. The man continued to scream and grab at where it had been on his face, but more seconds passed with seemingly nothing happening. Then without warning, the man collapsed onto his side, immediately losing all strength one of his legs. He tried to push himself back onto his feet, only to find that his arm on the same side was limp and useless. He tried calling to his crewmates for help, but the muscles on that side of his face were going slack as well, making his speech garbled and incoherent.

Dandelion had rejoined the others in the meantime, facing down the three other assailants that Redmond had put on the back foot. They stood next to Julian, appraising him with the dog's eye. He had been injured since Dandy had descended the stairs, they noticed. The dog's bloodlust was long gone, and so there was no instinctive reaction to this observation, just simple recognition. As the robbers regrouped to face them down, the dog's skin began to swell and sag at slow, even intervals, as though it was breathing through its fur instead of its nose. The noise from earlier resumed, a hissing that seemed to emanate from the dog's destroyed body. Close up to their teammates, they could tell than it was not actually a hissing, but actually friction, the sound of many things moving together very quickly. The dog stared impassively at the approaching robbers, its expression lifeless. Dandelion had given up on pretending to be a dog at this point. Whatever was lurking inside of the dog's skin, it convulsed with anticipation for the struggle to come.

As Varo was going to charge up another attack and help Gabi knock out this muscle-bound brute. But, someone new came to the scene and did their job for them. Watching as Gabi left, the now unconscious body of the brute slipped and fell to the ground.

Who is this newcomer? Varo thought as he powered down, and blue energy dissipated from his hands. They certainly knew what they were doing and had the skills to take down that human. Though he was softened up before this stranger showed up and delivered the final blow. Still, maybe he should not, as the humans say, do not look a gift horse in the mouth. Even still, Varo was curious about who even they were and why they were here.

He could not really see the newcomer since they were wearing all black. The only thing he could see was the pink X on their helmet. A pink x? Does that supposed to mean something? Maybe he will find out later, or maybe this stranger will disappear. Regardless, it was an imposing sight, and while Gabi spoke to the newcomer and thanked them for helping them. Varo chooses to remain silent and look around for any more threats. There were none after seeing Hayden take out the last of the gunmen.

Though gunfire still rang out near the back of the precinct. Varo went to follow Gabi as she railed the group and head to the rear of the precinct. Still saying nothing to the newcomer and wondered if she will follow them and if they did. What surprises will they have and Varo wondered how the others at the bank are doing. Hopefully, as good as they are here.

Kali felt the man's consciousness fade after her electrifying punch and gave herself a mental pat on the back. She watched as his body slunk to the ground and his body dysmorphed into its original state. They were dealing with juicers, but Seattle was a long ways from Gotham, Bludhaven, or even Santa Prisca so what was Bane's goons doing all the way out here? Unless they weren't his goons. He was the type who often liked to participate in the fun himself. But that didn't seem to be the case here.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the words Pink X. She took a second to recall what exactly she had said. Her thanks had unfortunately been drowned out by the question. Kali could understand why they'd think her name was Pink X, but she hated the idea of naming yourself after a color. She couldn't understand Black Lightning's name for the life of her. The guy rarely ever used his black lightning. At least Red's tornadoes were always red. Green Lanterns being named Green Lanterns was so on the nose it was nauseating. She knew they were a group of space cops, but there was already like 50 on Earth, where was the name variety? You don't see Martian Manhunter and Superman calling themselves the Green Martian and Big Red S Man.

Kali fixed the frown hidden underneath her mask and shook her head. Before she could answer more gunfire could be heard towards the back of the precinct. She crouched down next to the apparent leader of the group and finally answered her. "You're welcome, but it's Lady X, student of Lady Shiva. I just really like the color pink. But who are you lot? The Spectacular Axe Princess, Space Elf the Grey, Red Fire, and is that a dinosaur?" She asked still not having seen the creator of the automaton.

While she waited for them to answer she reached into her utility belt and picked out a few shuriken colored and shaped like the X on her mask. "Also, how's your aim? She figured that the axe wielder's aim would be pretty good and she had seen how well Red Fire had thrown the pen at the juicer junkie's mask. For the moment she would put trust in their skills so that together they could safely disarm the remaining gunmen and take them down without getting those stuck in the precinct caught in the crossfire.

Gabi listened intently as the menacing-looking woman before her introduced herself, although truth be told she had no idea who this Lady Shiva she mentioned even was. She assumed she must have been a big deal though given the bragging, and that this Lady X had taken on part of her name. She knew all about that of course, given her namesake. Although at least this person actually knew the person she had named herself after though. That was something Gabi merely wished she had the pleasure of having done.

She frowned slightly as Lady X began guessing their own aliases. She forgot that here her identity wasn’t exactly well known. Not that she was in this business to make a name for herself, but back in Guatemala she couldn’t go far without people greeting their very own superhero. She glanced down at the t-shirt and shorts she was wearing. Maybe she did need to invest in a costume after all?

"I'm Wonder Girl." She affirmed, moving past the newcomer and closer to the precinct before them. "I'm not a princess."

She had to admit though, she liked the girl. She seemed to have the same kind of “say-what-she-likes” confidence as Hana, albeit minus the excessive cursing.

Peering over the rubble cautiously, she continued onwards, entering through a hole in the ground floor’s wall. She made an effort to keep checking back behind her as she moved, still cautious of the new arrival. Given how she was acting, it seemed that she could be trusted for now, although Gabi didn’t want to place all of her trust in her just yet.

She let out a smile at Lady X’s final question, however, gently tossing her axe back and forth between her hands. “I like to think it’s alright.” She knew she sounded cocky, yet it was the truth. She had been practicing ever since she had accidentally hurled the thing right over the heads of a bunch of crooks she had been fighting in Guatemala when she first got her powers. She wasn’t one to make the same mistake twice.

“What did you have in mind?” She asked, as the group grew closer to the back of the precinct.

While the majority of the players were involved in the attack on the goons were at the front of the property the rainbow raider had other ideas. He walked to the back of the precinct and stood in one of the windows, standing up and holding onto the ceiling to keep himself steady. A couple of bullets peppered his skin, he shrugged it off. It was more of an annoyance than anything else. "Stand down villains! For you face the RAINBOW RAIDER!" Roy jumped down to the ground, throwing out some blasts towards men with guns. They got knocked off their feet, but stood up again himself still getting peppered by bullets.

Roy fired a blast at the strongman, they seemed to push him back slightly but he didn't get knocked down. A piece of debris was thrown at him, knocking him back. Roy spat out blood as he raced towards the thug, ducking under a fist and firing another blast upwards.

That's when Roy noticed something. The thug had blue eyes. He could see the colour blue. Oh hell. Raising his arms out in order to fire a blast nothing happened. That's when he heard a voice. You want my powers, you work for me.

Wonder Girl, Kali thought to herself. She wondered if she had any actual connection to Wonder Woman and the island of badass women. If she did wouldn't that actually make her a princess? She decided to keep the thought to herself for now and continued to follow her deeper into the precinct. The further they got the more she could hear the sound of gunfire. There must've been other members of this team dealing with the goons in the back. Perhaps the rich kid was here after all. She just hoped he wouldn't end up dying already. Otherwise she would've wasted a trip.

As Kali continued to follow Wonder Girl inside she started to think of the rest of their company. Yeah, they were kind of sneaking around, but they were really quite the quiet bunch. She was sure that Red Fire would've spoken up and quite loudly by now, but not a peep. She tried not to take offense, but it was getting difficult. Thankfully the non-princess was keeping her mind off of it. Before she answered her she once again activated the infrared vision in her helmet to get a better look of the situation now that they were deep inside. She saw a few downed thugs, but it seemed that someone had gotten in over their head a bit and needed some help.

"Well, it looks like a friend of yours might need some help and before we get him killed by scaring these goons we should disarm them first. Then we can pummel them to our hearts' content. How does that sound?"

Gabi grew quiet as her eyes met the situation at the back of the precinct, frozen momentarily in shock as she watched one of her teammates, the infamous Rainbow Raider, plummet into the floor as a result of another one of those brutes. Truth be told, since joining the team, Gabi hadn't really gotten to know the guy yet. Now it seemed like she never would if they weren't quick.

Lady X's voice snapped Gabi out of her worries, with the young hero turning to listen to their new ally, forcing a look of determination across her face. It was clear from her recommendation that she knew what she was doing. That was reassuring at least.

She nodded in response, moving her eyes quickly over the street.

"Got it." She affirmed, before glancing back towards her fiery training partner. Remembering his initial introduction to the fray a few minutes earlier, an idea formed in her head. She quickly moved to the remains of a desk, where after a few seconds of rummaging, she returned with a handful of pens and stationary.

"Not to make you a one-trick pony, but mind doing the honours Spitfire?"

A smile formed across his face as he realized what she had in mind.

"Let's light this place up!"

The duo stepped out into the rain in unison, Wonder Girl leading with a wave of her axe. The boxer followed suit, with the stationary beginning to glow between his fingers as he charged them with phosphoric chemicals. Before the gunmen knew what was happening, the assortment of items were flying through the air towards them, erupting into fire as they met their targets.

Gabi followed up with an attack of her own, flinging her weapon at the weapon of the nearest gunman with a flick of her arm. The force of the blade knocked it right of his hands, and before he could even react, he found Wonder Girl's fist colliding with him. As he collapsed into unconsciousness, she moved on to the next in line. A firm kick sent him hurtling into the collection of now weaponless goons behind him.

Intent her team could handle the rest, Wonder Girl reclaimed her weapon, before stepping in between the brute and her now powerless teammate.

It had been two years since the events at the Police Precinct.

The team ended up greatly divided because of it, most went their own ways, some stayed on - eventually trickling off.

Two years of silence. The last real activity Eilidh had noticed must have been a year ago or so, Edge Towers rumbled again with noise and activity until it petered back out - new recruits came and went. The lights stayed on, the woman had been allowed to stay if she helped out with a few things for the real Justice League every now and then. Hell, she barely even felt like "Young Justice" anymore. Eilidh had seen two birthdays since.

She'd gotten so good at finding her way around - expertly so, in fact, without the noise and uproar that used to guide her through the halls. She knew every creaking floorboard now. It was still the same kettle in the kitchen that she knew so well. It had been at Edge Towers as long as she had. Had a louder whistle now. In the same way that she often started her day, she filled the thing - no longer all the way full, just enough for her.

Vincent, even back then, was never around a lot. His powers had always troubled him, Eilidh recalled, and yet still on some evenings, she would walk past his room - listening for the sound of him. Those times were becoming far less frequent.

It had been months since she'd heard anything at all about Wonder Girl. Conor, well, she missed him a lot - they were so similar, she recalled as she poured out her tea. She wondered if he ever did find himself. Cece, of course - kept in touch often with messages and such, but it wasn't the same as having her around.

Roy... Johnny... Hayden - oh Hayden. Eilidh had made sure to keep a box of cookies around for them. They must be what, 15 now? Even Hana, with her sharp tongue, was missed. Dandy, came to her thoughts. "Have they gotten better at communication by now?"

Yaro, Selene, Kevin. Julian...

As she shuffled over to her seat at the table, she yawned into her hand, her fingers bunched up in the sleeve of an oversized cardigan. She took a long sip of the tea.

"Maybe tomorrow they'll come back..." she said quietly.

An open stasis tube with wet footprints...





Precision. There was still joy in precision. A perfectly cooked egg, the bacon and blood pudding that Eilidh quite liked. There weren't many of them left together anymore. She liked her self-sufficiency, and was proud of her ability to make her own tea as she liked it, but he did like to be able to make her breakfast at least.

She had been thoughtful enough to refill the kettle, with her same precise amount for his cup of coffee to go with the perfectly assembled meal he was making the pair.

He placed her plate in front of her, making just enough noise with the plate on the benchtop to let his presence be known. She returned a smile.

He knew she was lonely. Truth be told, he was too. It had nothing to do with the quality of company that she provided, and he assumed and hoped the same was the case with her. But he missed the bustle and diversity of friends, so busy and loud. So full of life. Neither of them were the loudest of people, and the fact that they remained held the Penthouse in stark contrast to how it had once been.

He'd often found himself thinking of them and wondering what many of them were up to. He still had the smart phone that Julian had given him, but he'd begun to notice that the conversations he'd had with them tended to be very one sided and there was a lot of him speaking to the void. Not in all cases. But enough. And it began to make him realise that walking a person through so much of the common sense of life probably grew frustrating.

He didn't bring them up with Eilidh, because he suspected that in that way led pain, even if they both would have revelled in the nostalgia at least for a little while. Instead he enjoyed the quiet company, and the other events and musings of the day. It would be the social time that would carry him through the day. While he worked.

His workouts became all consuming. Kevin had been one of the first to go, but even without someone to spot him, his drive to prepare himself and better himself physically became stronger. Ever since the first conflict, the flykick that saw ligament damage done to his ankle, it became apparent that there would always be those stronger. There was always more work that could be done. That combined with his smart-phone there was no excuse for not doing everything he could to prepare himself physically, mentally, culturally and socially to be able to handle the task at hand. He suspected something about him would always be offputting to some. He hadn't had a "usual" upbringing. But he thought he was making some headway on being... well, maybe not 'normal', but less strange. Less of a foreign entity. He was bridging the gap. But it was an infinite gap, and there was always more he could do.

He jumped on a treadmill to start his warm-up run. Just a two and a half mile run. A ten minute 'jog'. His actual aerobic workout would come later in the day.

He cast his smartphone's screen to a large screen on the wall, and began his day's 'mental calisthenics'. He had begun to organise his learning. Today he was reading up on a few topics of interest; the birth of jazz music, the cultural shift that intertwined with the invention of the television and for recent social growth, the ouevre of Jon Favreau films.

Then he heard talking. A male voice. An unrecognised male voice. From the kitchen.

Eilidh was there.

Alone.

He fired off a one word query in hopes of giving himself some idea of what they were dealing with, which went unanswered. Either she was too busy, or not yet sure of how to respond to it:

'Trouble?'

He jumped off the treadmill and his pace increased, this was no longer a 4-minute mile paced jog, Red sprinted through the halls of the penthouse and burst into the kitchen. His facial expression covered by a practised 'intimidating' sneer.

"Who are you?!"

He projected a quick mental question. 'Did he hurt you?'

His ease not being set until he received an answer.

"And what do you want here?"

YEAR AND A HALF AGO

There was a crack as Conors head hit the cold hard tile floor. He pulled himself up onto his feet, the shackles on his wrists clattered and bit into his flesh. He rushed to the door as it slammed closed. Running straight into it with his shoulder he groaned as the pain shocked through his entire body. "Why don't you come and have a go then?!" He yelled as he pounded against the door. He ignored the pain rocking his body. Kicking the door one final time in frustration, tears welling in his eyes as the rage boiled inside of him. "Never should have come fucking home." He turned to examine his new home. Some form of hard mat for sleeping lay in one corner, a solid steel toilet in another. No windows.

He couldn't help but notice that there was nothing to write with. He continued his scan around the room, looking straight up he saw the camera on the ceiling. Brilliant. He raised his heavy hands towards the ceiling throwing them the finger from both hands. While he did so he took a loser look at the shackles, though that might have been a misnomer. They had no chain between them and were more like bracelets. He could see several glowing runes. He reached down with his left hand and touched a sequence of runes on his upper calf, and as expected instead of the usual rush of vigor and strength pain wracked through his body. Grinding his teeth together Conor tried to stay on his feet until the pain became too much and he fell to his knees.

Julian would be proud of him for testing a theory. That was if he wasn't currently lying in a vegetative state, though to be fair if he wasn't Conor wouldn't have run the team into the ground, go home, and subsequently get captured.

A slot in the door opened revealing an eye that sent a cover down his spine. It was old and inhuman. Conor forced himself to his feet, bracing himself for whatever was about to happen. A slot in the door opened, and through it he could see a figure in shadow holding his staff. The sound that escaped Conors lips was almost as primal and guttural as it was full of pure rage as he saw his staff snap in two, before being folded over and snapped again. He ran forward to the door, stretching his hand through the hole to try and grab something. Anything.

As soon as his hand passed through the door his flesh started to burn and peel. He pulled his hand back, pulling it back to his chest and protecting it with his other one. "You bastard. You'll pay for that!"

A dark and heavy laugh echoed through his cell as the slots in the door closed once again. You're never getting out of here O'Brien. You belong to me now.

---

NOW

His tattered cloak billowed in the wind against the back of his knees. His clothes had seen better days, and as he had worked his way back to Chicago. It had been almost two years since he had left. Some of his smaller, less important storage units had been looted. Some had been sold on and emptied. He was a little disappointed but it wasn't a complete loss. Conor had to admit he was slightly trepidatious about this. This warehouse had his most powerful protective spells, scrolls and books, artifacts, and of course the techno-magi prison that held Elisidur Du Hex. The first mission he ever went on with Julian.

He walked up to the door, shadow crawling around him unnaturally as he did so. Placing his hand on the brick wall he stroked his hand over it in a certain pattern. The door subsequently opened off its own accord. He noticed a cigarette butt on the ground as he waited for the door to open, but thought nothing of it. As the door shimmered as it continued to open his heart sank. Books and tomes were littered all over the floor, shelves were knocked over. Glass broken.

Walking between where the aisles were he could feel the glass crunch beneath his feet. The one part of the room that seemed untouched was the vault door. Walking over to his desk he noticed a hastily written note at the centre.



"Fucking English Bastard."

There was only one place he could go now.

_{Interaction(s): @Lord Wraith @Hound55}

Eilidh had washed her breakfast plate, and sat back down at the small table in the centre of the kitchen; a laptop open, some headphones to the side - an audiobook pending. The tower was still silent, only now if she really focused she could make out the sound of the treadmill upstairs.

Outside, however, a motocycle thrummed into a halt. Not long after, Eilidh could sense a heavy, unfamiliar presence in the hallway.

Unsure. Keen senses. Looking for us.

Not dangerous.

Then his voice appeared before her - in the doorway of the kitchen. It came out in shades of gray, sharp at the edges.

Before she had time to answer, she felt the familiar presence of one of her few colleagues remaining, Red. A strange name, she had always thought - since in actual fact he always felt like more of a blue to her. He was there, his size likely imposing to the stranger in the doorway, especially with the way he bounded in.

She projected back to him, "Not trouble, not hurt... I think he needs our help, Red."

She focused her attention back onto the stranger, not wanting to tuck herself into his mind and go digging without permission, instead - she just gave him a slight smile.

"Aye, we're still the Young Justice. I'm Eilidh - this is Red... Don't get many folk 'round here these days." She waited a moment, turning her head to where she felt Red to nod at him, she waited for the stranger to answer the questions - hoping that the situation wasn't going to escalate.

Slash and splurt. The two sounds heard frequently as Lady X ran through the Port of Seattle Terminal 115. She had been investigating a group of smugglers who were smuggling more than just rare and exotic items. They were trafficking people, and not for the sake of giving them a better future. Ever since the team disbanded she started getting back to her mercenary and solo anti-hero roots. She joined the stupid club, because of him and he couldn't even stay awake long enough for her joining to even matter. She was so caught up in the moment and her thoughts that she didn't realize she started venting out loud while hacking away at scum.

"YOU STUPID"-SLASH-, "WORTHLESS" BANG BANG, CHING, "BIG-BRAINED ASSHOLE!"

"MY LEG!"

Lady X cut the rudely interrupting screamer across the torso in an X formation before yelling back at him. "SOME PEOPLE HERE HAVE BIGGER PROBLEMS! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO THINK AND SAVE PEOPLE? Just rude."

Lady X continued her venting onslaught somehow screaming even louder than before. "WHAT KIND OF SUPER GENIUS GOES INTO A COMA AND WON'T WAKE UP FOR ALMOST TWO YEARS!?"

She found herself surrounded by the remainder of the goons. Rain poured all around them adding to the intensity of the mood. She stabbed her two blades into the ground and took off her mask revealing that she too was crying, but the line where the tears ended and the rain began started to blur, just as her vision. But she didn't need to see to finish this. She reached for her blades, a gun firing off as she did. They may be a bunch of lowlife human trafficking scum, but she did like that at least one of them was bold enough to do something instead of just waiting for their death. She was going to enjoy this even more. She blocked the shot with the brace around her forearm.

Lady X fully re-equipped her blades moving fast enough to avoid anymore oncoming gunfire. She charged at the one that shot her and jumped into the air ready to end this little rain dance. "PLEASE JUST WAKE UP!"

---

Lady X opened the shipping container that was originally slated to be on the next ship out of the Port revealing an assortment of women and children. She forced herself to hide her feelings of disgust at the things people did for money. Instead she gave them a look of concern and empathy. She didn't care if they recognized her after this. Her life hadn't been normal for years now and they needed to see a friendly face, not a skull. "Welcome home. Your cruise has been canceled. Let's get you all out of here."

---

Kali was mentally exhausted once she pulled up to the Tower. She normally wouldn't have gone straight here, but after being an emotional support human as she helped them all get home, she just needed to lay in a really good bed after eating Eilidh's cooking. When she arrived she noticed something new and different in the parking lot. It was another motorcycle. One she definitely didn't recognize. Who were they and why were they there? Did they know a group of "heroes" lived here? She was pretty sure Red didn't have any friends. Eilidh may have some from school, but she didn't mention any with a motorcycle. Kali was starting to get worried. Without a second thought she rushed into the tower. Once inside she paused to sniff, allowing the different smells of the tower to flow into her nose. She didn't like using her senses, but when her tea--friends were in trouble, nothing else mattered. She locked onto a collective group of smells in the kitchen. One kind of smelled like a big dog.

Kali made her way there. She couldn't sense any fighting so maybe everything was okay. She pulled out her Nth metal knife and crept alongside the wall until she reached the kitchen. She peeked inside to get a better scope of the situation. She saw Red and Eilidh just standing there, talking to a rather tall stranger. Once she realized nothing was actually wrong she fully stepped inside, still with knife in hand.

"Who's this?"

---

_{Interaction(s):@spicykvnt@Hound55@Lord Wraith}

It was in Metropolis it had happened. Like everything else that ever made an impact on his creation, it came from the ‘City Of Tomorrow’. He, meant to prove the best of the two greatest visionaries on the planet, met his match. His team had disbanded around him, scattered to the wind. He hadn’t held them together like he should’ve. Or perhaps held them too tight.

It had been 639 days. 639 days since the four people marched into the city and lit it on fire. The third Atomic Skull, the shadow mage Essence wielding the full power of her birthright, Brutalia the rogue amazon powered up by the Blockbuster Mutation formula, and finally their leader, fueled by nothing but six pints of Guinness and a hatered for the man in Blue.

The League was dispatched. The first responders, a Green Lantern, a Flash and several of the recently appointed Titans were all decemated in moments. Essence dominated the speedster, trapping him in another dimension. Atomic Skull’s flames burnt so hot that the ring melted and the she-hulk Brutalia showed exactly why a 4000 year old culture of warriors weren’t for a bunch of rookie teenage heroes to mess with. A trio of Terror that would tear down the city bit by bit.

The biggest guns of the League were off-world during the attack. Handling a situation on Rimbor. The attack was against the interests of the most powerful man in the world, which is how the satellite array designed to atomize the foe of man in his ivory tower came into play. Scarlet fire from the sky rained down, searing Essence in a heartbeat. The purple and green robots protected the city as best it could but proved little match.

Continuing their rampage in the city once more, only one young man stood to face the threat. Leaving his blue space-mineral behind some time ago he wasn’t afraid of what was to come. Ready to face his destiny, prove he was just as much of a hero as the man fighting for another world half-way across the known universe. Yet as brilliant of a mind as the man protecting the city from the shadows.

He was Julian “Ax-El” Luthor. He was born from darkness yet had always chosen to walk in the light, twilight incarnate. He dove into battle, utilizing every strategic advantage he could muster, countering the powers of his foes. His kryptonian powers and 12th level intellect made him capable of engaging the remaining two adversaries, beating the breaks off of the amazon while ensuring the atomic bonehead ran out of juice trying to melt him.

Yet it all came to a halt when his win streak came to an end. The two cold hands of Manchester Black coiled around his head, his purple eyes staring into his very being. Echoing and ripping through his mind, destroying every neatly orchestrated metaphorical microchip the lab-grown hero had. If the Martian Manhunter had known what was happening, he would’ve known that what Black breaks, he can put back together again.

Alexander “Lex” Luthor did not know this, instead placing a .44 to the back of Manchester’s skull and applying enough pressure to spray the only brain that could have saved his son onto the sidewalk of Kal-El Avenue.

Since that day, when Julian bought the city another day all on his own, he lost everything. The mad psychic had done damage to him that no alien powers could heal. No magic could put it back. Tubes and alien machines kept him alive inside of the most advanced Cadmus facilities, his body serving as nothing more than an empty husk. It had been 639 days since Julian was taken from this world.

Today, his eyes opened.